An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel, page 6
I continued, “So Daddy’s body is in the casket. That’s what a funeral is for, to say goodbye to his body.”
“Daddy’s inside the box?” Her face turned white and her little eyes bulged from her head.
“His body is in the box, baby. Daddy’s in heaven.”
“I want to see Daddy.” She began to cry.
“You can’t, my baby.” I thought my heart would break as I listened to her sobs.
I hadn’t gone to see Jonathan, myself. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the damage he’d suffered to his lovely body. The inquest would no doubt fill in all the gruesome details for us. In the meantime, I chose to remember the way he’d been that last beautiful night.
Frank held his hands out towards Emily, and she scrambled onto his lap.
“I want to see my Daddy, Grandad,” she cried.
“I know you do, lass, but Daddy is in heaven. He’s not in the box, I promise. Like Mummy said, that’s just an empty body, like an overcoat left behind.”
Emily sobbed the rest of the way.
***
The service had been touching and beautiful. Several people got up to share stories about my wonderful husband, tales from before we'd even met. I didn't get up, but I'd written a poem and Jon's best friend, Pete, read it out for me.
There wasn't a dry eye in the place.
Afterwards, we went to the local pub for a bite to eat and a few drinks.
Stephanie seemed distracted, but insisted she was okay. When we arrived home later on, I realised why. A handsome young Spaniard sat on the doorstep.
"I think you have a visitor, Steph."
"Oh, my God. I thought he was joking when he said he was on his way."
"Looks serious to me—how about you, Frank?"
"Er—yeah he does." Frank nodded.
"I'm sorry, Vic. Today of all days."
"Don't be silly, life goes on. Plus Jon would have loved to see the look on your face right now." We all laughed, including Frank.
Steph climbed out of the taxi.
"Are you feeling okay, Frank?" I asked.
"Aye, lass, as good as can be expected."
"Come on then. I don't know about you but I'm dying for a nice cup of tea."
"Me too?" Emily chirped.
"You can indeed and I'll even put a spoonful of sugar in it for you."
"Like Mary Poppins?"
"Exactly like Mary Poppins," I said.
Emily had recovered from her earlier upset. She’d had a short nap on the sofa in the foyer of the pub, but considering her condition, she'd done well.
We passed Stephanie and Hector still standing on the front lawn. I smiled at Steph, and her eyes flashed with amusement.
Hector was extremely good looking, with dark brooding eyes and a shock of black hair, a complete contrast to Steph's pale freckly skin and bleached blond hair.
The house seemed empty.
Now the funeral was over, we needed to get on with everyday life and develop new routines. At least my past meant I knew what to expect.
Emily was pale and exhausted and after our cup of tea I said, "Bath and then bed for you, Miss Em." That was Jonathan's special name for her, and it was out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying. "I'm sorry, my baby."
"It's okay. Do you think Daddy had a nice time today?"
"I do indeed. Did you see how many people came to say goodbye?"
She nodded. "When I die I’ll only have two friends, Edward and Kaylie."
Her words tore a hole in my already tattered heart. My eyes filled; I couldn't believe I had any more tears left to cry.
"You will have many, many friends when your time comes, my baby. But that's a long way off yet.”
Talk of Emily dying gave me physical pains in my head and my chest, all my nerve ending seemed on high alert. I’d faced enough tragedy in my life; Jon’s death had been the last straw for me and I absolutely refused to allow another member of my family to die without a damn good fight. I made a vow to myself right then to do everything in my power to help Emily beat this, no matter what I had to do.
“Come on, let's both have a bubbly bath.”
“Together?” Her eyes lit up.
I nodded. “Why not?”
We squished into the smaller-than-average bathtub. I’d overfilled it, and the water gushed over the sides every time either of us moved. But I didn’t care. For the first time in ages, Emily was giggling as we blew bubbles at each other.
Steph knocked on the bathroom door.
"Vic, can I have a word?"
"The door’s open, Steph. Come on in."
She opened the door, taking in the mass of bubbles surrounding the bathroom and laughed. “Must be a tight squeeze in that bath, Em. There’s no room left for the bubbles—they’re all over the floor.”
Emily laughed and blew a handful of bubbles at Steph.
“Hey, cheeky!” Steph said, trying to catch the bubbles in mid-air. Then she sat on the toilet lid and turned to me. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Where's Hector?" I raised and wiggled my eyebrows and smiled.
"Downstairs. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. He's asked me to go out for a drink but I wanted to check with you first."
"Of course you should go with him. You don't need my permission, silly," I said, shaking my head.
Emily giggled, and I plonked a handful of bubbles on the top of her head.
"I know I don't, but tonight of all nights, I thought you might need me here."
"No, you're fine. Emmie and I are going to bed soon. We're shattered, aren't we, baby?"
Emily nodded and continued piling bubbles around her face like Santa’s beard.
"I bet you are. It’s been a long day. Frank’s gone to bed too. I'm worried about him, Vic."
"Now the funeral’s over he’ll probably begin to feel a bit better."
"You're amazing, Vic. I’ve wanted to say that to you all day."
“I'm no more amazing than you. You've kept us all going this week. Now go, before he changes his mind. He looks nice, by the way. Young, but nice." I smiled.
"He can be nice when he wants to be, but looks aren't everything."
I cocked my head to one side. "You still need to tell me what went on with you two."
"I will, over a glug of wine one night. I promise," she said.
"Sounds like a plan. Oh, by the way, you'll need a key to get back in. Take mine off the key-hook. I won't be going anywhere tonight,” I said.
"Okay, my darlings. See you in the morning."
***
Once I’d tucked Emily up in bed, I went back downstairs to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of milk. The house seemed eerily quiet, and I wandered around for several minutes before ending up in the snug. After flicking through all the channels, I switched the TV off again, unable to concentrate on anything.
I prayed for the next few weeks and months to pass quickly. This rawness wouldn’t last forever, no matter how hard that was to believe right now.
I turned the lights off, leaving only the hall light on for Stephanie, and climbed the stairs to bed.
Emily was asleep as I peered in her room. I considered getting into bed with her, but didn’t want to create bad habits. I forced myself into my own bedroom, instead.
Last week’s dirty sheets were back on the bed. I didn’t know when I’d be able to wash them, but I wasn’t ready yet. I switched my bedside lamp on and crawled under the duvet, burying my head into Jonathan’s pillow and inhaling his rapidly fading scent.
An extreme rush of emptiness gripped my core, followed by an overwhelming urge to pack a bag, bundle Emily into the car and escape this hellhole. But I couldn’t escape it, no matter how far or how fast I ran.
An intense loneliness like nothing I’d ever experienced before engulfed me. I missed Jon with every fibre of my being. I wanted, more than anything, to lock myself in my room, shutting everything and everybody out until I could make some sense of life without him. However, that wasn’t an option. I needed to maintain a front for Emily’s sake. She was all I had right now.
After a few minutes, I reached for the corny paperback I’d been using to switch my brain off all week. The turned down page corner indicated I was more than halfway through, yet I couldn’t remember one word of it.
***
“Shove up fatty, you’re on my side,” Jonathan said, as he climbed in beside me.
“You’re cold.” I rolled across the bed.
“Will you let me warm my feet on you?”
I laughed. “Don’t start that again.” Cold feet at bedtime had started more play fights than I could possibly begin to count.
He pulled me back across the bed to him and we snuggled, my head on his shoulder.
“I’ve missed this,” I buried my face into his chest and inhaled deeply.
“Me too. I told you I’d come back.”
“Come back?” My stomach clenched. “Come back from where?”
“From the other side.”
Realisation dawned, and I sat up with a start. My eyes fixed on the empty mattress beside me.
Where had he gone? He’d been here. Jonathan had just been here; I would stake my life on it.
I touched the mattress; it was still warm.
“Jonathan?” I called in a hushed voice, tinged with hysteria. “Jonathan. Please, come back.”
My pulse thundered in my ears, and as I moved, the paperback slid to the floor making my heart leap once again. I glanced at the clock—almost eleven.
A bang rang out from downstairs, and I shot out of bed.
“Jonathan,” I called again. My rational mind told me Steph must have arrived home, although it was unlike her to go banging and crashing through the house knowing everyone would be sleeping.
I passed Emily’s room and checked on her again. Her soft snores told me she was sound asleep. I closed her door so she wouldn’t be disturbed.
The bang came again, and prickles formed at the nape of my neck, spreading down my spine. The sound of my pulse mixed with the sawing sound of my locket as I pulled it side to side on the chain.
Maybe I had inherited my mother’s gift after all? Jon promised he’d come back for me if he could. I’m sure I hadn’t imagined him in my bed—no dream could be so vivid. But what made him vanish like that? Unless he wanted me downstairs for some reason.
I crept down the stairs, preparing to crap myself if I came face to face with Steph or Frank. They'd probably scream the house down too.
At the bottom of the stairs, I realised that, apart from the hall light I’d left on for Steph, the house stood in darkness. Steph would have turned at least the kitchen light on.
I crept into the kitchen, holding my breath and unsure of what I would find, but certain it wouldn’t be Frank or Steph. I heard the sound again as the back door swung open and banged against the rubbish bin.
How odd. I didn't remember checking the door earlier, but sure I would have noticed it swinging open like this.
I shut the door and locked it with the key, relieved I’d found the cause of the noise.
Suddenly I sensed someone behind me, at the same moment I felt warm breath on the back of my neck.
I shuddered. “I knew you were here,” I said.
Cold hands caressed my shoulders and down my back, sliding under my arms to fondle my small breasts.
The breath hitched in my throat. I was terrified to turn and face him in case he vanished once again.
“Oh Jon,” I whispered.
I slowly turned. My smile froze as I came face to face with Shane Logan.
Chapter 9
I stifled a scream as I staggered backwards, knocking the rubbish bin sideways. A half-eaten tray of fish, chips and mushy peas landed face down on the tiled floor beside me. Along with an array of empty tin cans, newspaper and spaghetti hoops.
“Well, if it isn’t the merry widow herself.” Shane smiled, showing his crooked yellow teeth. “You took your time. I was just coming to find you.”
“Wh—what the hell are you doing in my house?” I managed to utter, my heart and head hammering in unison.
“That’s not a very nice welcome is it? I merely came to pay my respects.” The smile turned into a scowl and his eyes flashed menacingly. A large, yellow headed pimple quivered on his top lip.
“Get out. Get out of here now or so help me …” I shook my head, terrified. My stomach twirled and I could barely breathe. I scratched at the back of my neck, trying to erase the memory of his warm breath.
“I’ve been dreaming about your fiery temper since you tried to stick the boot in outside the surgery that day. I love my ladies with a bit of push back.” He made a grotesque hip thrusting motion towards me.
“What are you doing here, Shane?” My thoughts were in a riot. I needed to keep my cool.
“I came to ask if you need anything—” he paused and leered, “—now your hubby’s gone and bit the dust.”
“You’re disgusting, do you know that?” I sneered at him, edging my way into the hallway.
“I like your sexy nightdress.” His eyes ran down my body, making me shudder with dread.
I glanced down and was horrified as I realised I was wearing nothing but a skinny cotton slip that barely covered a thing.
“Don’t be shy—your mother wasn’t,” Shane laughed at his own stupid joke.
“Just get out before I call the police, Shane. How do you think you’ll get away with breaking and entering?” I prayed he wouldn’t hear the quiver in my voice.
“No breaking in needed. You invited me over, today at the pub. Told me you’d leave the back door open,” he raised his eyebrows, a smile still playing on his pockmarked face.
“You talk utter crap. Nobody will believe a word of out of your mouth,” I said, shaking my head once again.
“You’re not the first respectable woman to fancy a bit of rough and you won’t be the last.”
Reaching the hallway, I backed up to the telephone table. Shane still had a smile on his face and I could tell he was playing games with me.
I twirled round and fumbled for the phone. My hands could have been stumps for all the use they were and I dropped the handset. Shane jumped forwards and swiped the unit off the table. It made a loud crash as it hit the floor.
He shoved me towards the snug doorway.
“Just go, Shane. If you leave now, I promise I won’t call the police. In fact, I won’t tell a soul you were even here.” My heart pounded in my chest.
“I’m going nowhere until I’ve paid my respects. I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks.” He shoved me backwards once again.
Although he wasn’t that big, he was strong, much stronger than me.
“Shane! This isn’t funny. Do you have no compassion at all? I buried my husband today.” My back hit the snug door.
He leaned past me, twisted the knob and pushed me into the room.
I was terrified. If he continued like this, God only knows what he would be capable of once he passed the point of no return.
My heart hammered against my ribcage. “I’m tired, Shane. Please, just go. I appreciate you paying your respects but can we leave it at that? You don’t want to get into trouble, I’m sure.”
“One kiss.” He licked his lips, his tongue stroking the top of the yellow pus filled mound.
My stomach lurched. “I beg your pardon?” I shook my head.
“One kiss and I’ll go.” He shrugged.
“I’m tired. I can’t cope with this right now.” I reached the sofa and could go no further. Although my voice sounded calm, silent screams exploded in my head.
He continued toward me until we were nose to nose. A broad, sickly smile spread across his spotty face as his putrid breath hit my nostrils, making my stomach lurch.
I considered slamming my knee into his crotch, but thoughts of Emily stopped me. I wanted the situation to stay calm. I’d have more of a chance of talking him round that way.
He licked my face. The stench of tooth decay, alcohol and rotten food almost knocked me over.
I yelped, recoiled and wiped my face with my arm. The smell wouldn’t go away. I was bending backwards in an arc over the front of the sofa, the backs of my legs and my shoulders touching, but my bottom still raised.
As he pressed his crotch towards me, I gave up and collapsed backwards.
He straddled me.
I was shaking uncontrollably, petrified now, and strange whimpering sounds escaped me.
He lifted my hair and began kissing and licking my neck.
“Stop!” My voice a high-pitched squeal.
“I’ve not even started yet. Now be quiet. Think yourself lucky you’ve not had to wait too long to get your pussy stroked.” He laughed. “What’s the acceptable time-frame for a widow to abstain?”
“This isn’t funny anymore, Shane. My friend will be back any minute now and her boyfriend will kick your arse.”
“If you’re talking about the bleached blonde pygmy who lives here, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend. I’ve been watching. I know exactly who comes and goes, right down to the namby-pamby prick living over the garage.”
The seriousness of the situation suddenly struck me. I wasn’t going to be able to talk my way out of this.
He pinched my nipple through my slip.
I squealed, taken by surprise.
He repeated it with my other nipple.
“Hmmm, a matching pair, look at that,” he said, staring at my chest. “I’ve dreamed of your little titties and I can’t wait to slurp on those juicy big tit-ends. All I had to do was get rid of that dickhead husband of yours.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Shane? I’m begging you, stop this before things go too far.” The blood gushed in my ears. I was distraught, couldn’t believe this was happening to me. His mention of Jon horrified me. Could he be responsible for the accident? My whole body sagged and succumbed to the tremors I’d managed to hold at bay up to now.
“No can do, I’m sorry, look at this,” he leaned backwards, giving me an eyeful of the bulge filling the crotch of his jeans. “He has a mind of his own and there’s no arguing with him.” Once again he chuckled at his own words.
