marksilgram
Cadet
Okay,
This book is very disturbing as it delves deep into humanitys morals and follows Christian; a twisted sadomasochist serial killer, a character created by Martin Black; writing a novel 'Dark Path'
When he starts to write the final page however; own character begins stalking him; drawing into a world of twisted toture and morals where lies a darker fate awaiting both of them.........
Please posts any thoughts or feelings you have as any comments I welcome.
It's a novel that gives you a cold hard slap in the face.
When a few people in my office read, it was as if a newtron bomb had exploded.
So decide for yourselves what Dark Path really is about:
Dark Path - by Mark Silgram copyright2005
Prologue
Rain battered the windows of the small two bed room flat, as the cold November bitter wind swirled and whistled outside. Martin Black increasingly became aware of the wall clock ticking away above him. He had been checking the time every ten minutes for the last three hours and now the time on the clock read 1am. Cigarette smoke blew over the top of the type writer his fingers stubbed out a cigarette in an already overflowing ashtray. He then drank the last drop of Southern Comfort in the glass and poured himself another large measure of the golden liquid. He started to hammer the keys again as he typed away, but then he stopped, taking out the last cigarette he screwed the packet up in frustration and threw it at the type writer. He let the cigarette dangle between his lips as he turned his silver Zippo lighter over and over in his hand, his mind deep in thought. In his mind he could see his character Christian Dobbs holding a knife in his hand. What are you thinking Christian; Martin thought. What emotions are you experiencing when you bring that knife down slashing her throat? He clicked his Zippo and lit his cigarette, taking a long deep drag. Blood sprayed up Christian’s face as Martin tapped away again at the keys, his heart thumping as he blew smoke slowly out of his mouth. What are you thinking Christian? Why don’t you stop?
Although Martin had been writing now for a full solid three hours, his writing still felt wooden. Standing up he started to pace the floor, he suddenly felt tired and his head was still thumping from a sickly headache. He crossed over to the window and leaned on the window sill, exhaling smoke, watching the rain lash down through the darkness outside. Rain always helped him think; at night after when he had one of his night terrors and he started to worry that he would have another listening to the rain beating on the windows always seemed to settle him. Maybe it was the way that it reminded him of reality. Night terrors scarred the s*** out him; the really big episodes made him shake in fear and he would worry and panic for ages afterwards. During a night terror his perception of reality to him distorted like a waking dream or nightmare. He would start seeing objects, animals or insects that weren’t really there, hear people or ghosts whispering in ear his strange haunting weird s***. He would then start thrashing around wildly in bed shouting and screaming before sitting bolt upright absolutely terrified with sweat dripping down his forehead. The rain calmed him and reminded him that the real world still carried on as normal outside.
Looking through his flat window he watched a group of lads staggering around Manchester city centre oblivious to the cold rain slashing down as they staggered towards the Chinese takeaway opposite the block of flats Martin lived in. Taking another long deep drag of his cigarette, he thought back to when he first started his novel. At first he was a shy I’ll write when I’m in mood kind of writer but now as he became ever deeply drawn into Christian’s dark pysique, he hadn’t had a decent nights sleep since.
Writing at odd hours and waking up at odd times had wrecked his sleeping patterns. His night terrors had got a lot worse over the last few months and even drinking whiskey to knock him out for the night wasn’t helping. Taking a break from his novel however was out of the question. He had got so involved with his main character, he was starting to become intertwined and engrossed in him; he wanted to know more and more of what made Christian tick.
He walked back over to the table and ground his cigarette out with his thumb. Downing his second glass of Southern Comfort he decided that he needed a small break of indulgence. Rifling through the cupboard in the kitchen he found a small bottle of Couruoisier Cognac that he’d been saving for special occasions.
The crisp smooth golden liquid sloshed into the whiskey glass as Martin sank into his soft brown leather sofa. He had just put his feet up on the coffee table and flicked on the Television, when he heard banging and shouting coming from next door. Curious he opened his front door, glass of brandy still in his hand. A man that Martin didn’t recognise was being dragged out of his neighbours flat kicking shouting and swearing.
“I didn’t do it f***ing pigs, I didn’t kill her!” Martin watched from his front door as two police officers dragged the man from the flat and into the lift, as another police officer kept guard beside the door. Noticing Martin watching; the police officer walked over to him.
“Please Sir if you’d like to step back into your flat….”
“Yeah sure, but huh…I know the woman, we were kind of involved until just recently”
“In that case Sir I’d like you to step this way to identify the body.” The police officer said as Martin, Cognac sloshing in his mouth with butterflies and a sense of dread churning in his stomach followed police officer into the flat and the first thing he noticed were the forensic team combing every millimetre of the floor looking for clues. Blood streaked across the floor, as Martin walked further into the flat. That’s when he noticed the body of his ex lover lying on the floor; her neck looked like it had been repeatedly been slashed several times.
“Sir, is this the body of Miss Angela Robertson?” the police officer asked gesturing with his hand towards the body, with tears in his eyes and his mouth as dry as sand paper Martin said
“Yes, yes it is” His hand was shaking as he took a long swig of his brandy, feeling his legs turning to jelly. He wanted to run out of the flat but as he looked further at the body he noticed something that made his blood cold as a bolt of ice ran up his spine, as if in slow motion the glass slipped from his grip and shattered, the brown liquid cascaded out over the floor.
On the body of his ex lover scorched into her skin on her stomach were the initials C D.
Chapter 1
Drops of tears dropped onto the wooden floor as Christian’s collar started to itch. His tie seemed to be strangling him as a wave of blistering summer heat washed over him. At Sixteen years old there were many things he could have been doing on a hot summer day such as playing football with his mates. Instead he was watching the vicar read out a moving parable from the bible at his mother’s funeral. He couldn’t even remember how she died at the hands of her killer even though he was there when was she was brutally stabbed. Subconsciously he started to rub the stitches of the knife wound he received that night. His black trousers started to stick to him as his bum kept on sliding on the wooden church bench. He looked at his father; his eyes were bloodshot with tears rolling down his face, he looked tired very tired like he hadn’t slept for ages. His father put his arm around him clutched him tightly, .
“Christian it’s going to be okay, I’ll find and arrest the bastard that did this I promise! It’s just me and you now and we’re a team aren’t we” all Christian could do was bury his head in father’s chest and start to cry.
So ironically on a hot day, rain drummed on the roof of Peter’s car as it sped down the road. He looked at Christian worried, he hadn’t spoken all day.
“Hey Christian, you haven’t said a word all day, I know we were both supposed to be at the wake but I was thinking if you would feel more comfortable at Stephens house instead?” Christian nodded as he looked out of the window deep in thought. Although fragments of what happened the night his mother was murdered appeared to be missing from his memory, bits of that night stuck in his mind like glass. In his mind he could hear his mother screaming in shear terror, a blood gurgling scream as she crawled along the floor badly wounded, dripping with blood her hands reached for her mobile, as Christian lay against the wall, blood seeped through his fingers as he held his hand over the deep knife wound to his abdomen. Her bloody fingers fumbled with the mobile but the battery was dead.
Christian jolted back to the present as the car stopped. Still shaking he stepped out.
“Hey Christian I’ll pick you up later and then do you want to us both to watch Manchester United V Liverpool on sky? Peter said getting out of his car and walking up to Christian.
“Yeah, thanks dad”
“Hey, we’ll get through this together okay” Peter said reassuringly, putting his hand on Christians shoulder. As Christian walked up to his friend’s front door his father shouted.
“I’ll pick you up at seven, kick off is at eight!” Peter then waited until the front door opened before getting back into his car. He then started the car and drove up the road.
As a teenager maybe Christian couldn’t quite appreciate the detached house his friend Steven lived in with his mother Angela Gray and his Step father Richard Gray, but he would certainly love to live there. With a gravelled driveway that winded it’s way up to the large garage. A beautiful front garden with flowers of different kinds was on either side of a pathway leading up to the front door. At the back was a conservatory leading onto a patio which lead onto a path circling a fish pond. A perfectly cut lawn lay on either side of the pond. At the back of the garden lay a huge field that the school nearby used for cross country. A satellite dish and silver Audi 2.8 Quattro on the driveway completed the picture. They also owned a blue Ford Focus. Inside the house however was a complete mess just like the state of Angela and Richard Grays marriage. One an accountant and the other a teacher, they had met the Dobbs when Richard Gray became their accountant several years ago. Since then Stephen and Christian had become best of friends.
As Christian watched his father get back into the car, Angela opened the door in her dressing gown, her long dark brown hair dripping wet.
“Hey Christian, come on in, Stephen’s just nipped to the shop with his dad they won’t be long.” Christian followed her into the living room from the hall. He had always felt awkward and shy around his other friend’s parents but with Angela he felt comfortable like he could chat to her like an adult rather then a teenager, even though she was his English teacher at school. Their living room was large with a twenty one inch wide screen television in one corner of the room. The television stood next to a white and black marble fire place. Opposite the fire place sat a long three seat black leather sofa, with another black leather chair sitting next to the television. Christian slumped on the sofa as Angela sat on the chair.
“I’m really sorry to hear about your mother” she said as lit a cigarette taking a long deep drag. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she then crossed her legs slowly and Christian was more then a little embarrassed that he could see her pubic hair.
“No, its okay me and my dad have each other and he’s been great” Christian said trying to focus on her face while trying to hide a grin. Noticing the expression on Christian face, Angela was more amused then embarrassed that he could see under her robe, she continued pretending not to notice.
“I’m sorry to pry, but Stephen told me that you had a black out the night your mother was murdered and that you can’t remember anything; is that true?”
“Yeah it’s true, the doctor huh the doctor” Christian put his head in between his hands and started to cry, as Angela got up and sat next to him.
“Go on, it’s okay I’m here for you” she said putting her arm around him.
“The doctor said that I had such big a shock that I may never fully remember what happened” Christian said his eyes red, as Angela hugged him. As she hugged him his mind again flashed back to that night. In his mind he could hear shouting and swearing but they sounded distant and muffled.
“…..he’s just a boy you sick f***er, I’m phoning the police…..” He could see his mother as she was punched to the floor but he couldn’t see clearly her attacker. The knife slashed down.
The sound of a door slamming snapped Christian back to the present. Richard Gray walked into the living room. Christian’s posture immediately changed when his eyes came into contact with Richard’s. Richard’s eyes seemed to burrow deep into his a look of seething hatred.
“Richard, before you start he’s just come back from his own mothers funeral” Angela said getting up from the sofa and putting her arm around her husband. Richard didn’t say a word; he just walked straight out and into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Christian relaxed again as Stephen walked in carrying the latest Nintendo game.
“Hey Chris, how’d it go today at your mums funeral?” Stephen asked kicking off his blue Nike Air max.
“Hey Ste, I’d rather not talk about it if that’s cool with you” Christian said
“Well do you wanna have a blast on this” Stephen said tapping the computer game, trying to hide his excitement bubbling up inside him. Christian got up and shrugged.
“Yeah sure, you know that I’ll whup your arse anyway!” Christian as they both started too bound up the stairs towards Stephen’s room.
Stephen’s controller slammed down for a fifth time. Whatever he did, no matter how much button bashing he did, he just couldn’t beat Christian.
“Dickhead!” he shouted at Christian before playfully punching him hard in the arm. Christian’s smug grin was all too apparent.
“Well I did tell you, dickhead!” Christian said “do you wanna play something else that you’re better at, maybe something more girlie perhaps” he said rolling on Stephens bed laughing. His was winded by a football on his stomach.
“No, let’s play football” Stephen said a grin cracking his face.
As Stephen and Christian ran downstairs they could hear violent shouting and swearing coming from downstairs in the kitchen. Curious they both tip toed towards the kitchen door and it opened the door slightly. Richard and Stephen’s mother both locked in a blazing row.
“I told you I don’t want that little dickhead in my house again!” Richard shouted
“Yeah and I told you to drop it; the accident was recorded as misadventure and he’s just lost mother, it’s been twelve months, let it f***ing go!” Angela screamed back. Christian’s heart pounded, blood rushed to his head as he started to feel sick as he realised that they were rowing about him. He was about to storm in, maybe shout at them to stop when things started to turn nasty. Richard threw the cup he was drinking against the wall and with frustration and anger burning deep in his eyes he strode up to her and grabbed her arms tightly. He started to shake her violently as he spat
“Oh and you’d love that wouldn’t you, you’d love for him to keep coming here sniffing around you, you getting wet and pouting at him when I’m at work!”
“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again” Angela said shaking with fear tears rolling down her eyes “Well go then; do it slap, kick and punch me like you always do, but you know what I f***ing loved it!” she said her tear sodden eyes looking deep into his. Richard looked like he was about to walk away, when all of sudden he punched Angela and knocked her to the kitchen floor. He then started to kick and punch her as he shouted
“I don’t give a s*** about you anymore Angela, you’re just a cheap sick sl**; I don’t care what you say that little bastard killed my son and you know what I’m glad his f***ing mother’s dead!”
Chapter Two
Twelve months earlier
Christine Dobbs filled a stainless steel flask with boiling hot water. A light breeze filled the kitchen, the door wide open so she could hear the bird’s tweeting; the new summer’s day embracing her like a new born baby. She glanced at the cookers clock; the green LED display read 5am. Christine loved the mornings, being a romance writer for woman’s weekly she’d often got up at 5am, make a cup of Earl Gray tea and sit out in the garden typing away on her laptop with the grass swaying gently around her. This morning however she was doubly excited. Christine and her husband Peter decided to go on a camping holiday with their son Christian. Their friends Richard and Angela Gray with their two sons Stephen aged fourteen and Jake aged Fifteen; also joining them at the camp site.
Peter loaded up their silver Ford Mondeo with bags, suitcases and a tent with camping equipment. He had just closed the boot when he noticed his petite wife walking down the garden path carrying a flowery bag loaded with tea, sandwiches and biscuits for the journey with crossword puzzles and Beano comics for Christian. He watched her walking towards the car her long ginger hair gently swaying in the cool summer air. Her beauty still mesmerised him even after almost sixteen years of marriage. They had met seventeen years ago on Valentines Day in a country hotel bar. He had decided to surprise his then girlfriend and take her away on a romantic country break, not knowing that she intended to break up with him. She blurted out that she had been having an affair for months during a candle lit dinner. A blazing row followed and she stormed out the hotel and out of his life. So that’s how he found himself at nine o’clock at night sat slumped at the bar on Valentines drinking drink after drink; with a crushed heart. With a couple of sits separating them a beautiful petite woman with long ginger hair also sat slumped sipping a class of Jacobs Creek red wine scribbling away in a note book. An hour passed until they both noticed each other. A metallic clunk snapped him out of self pity, eyes scanning the floor, they eventual locked onto a silver parker pen and then on the beautiful petite woman sitting next to him, notepad open on the bar top. Cool as a, ice he bent over and shot out his hand fishing on the floor for the pen. At least that was the idea; what actually happened was he toppled over and went face first onto the floor. The stunning woman instantly offered to help him up, but at the last moment her heal had got caught in the stool leg; losing her balance she ended up on top of him still amazingly holding her glass of wine. They could almost he hear the clichéd romantic music in the background as Peter moved in for a kiss; but as their lips moved closer, freckles sprinkled across her cute face the woman hiccupped so violently her wine cascaded out onto his face and shirt. As the cold wine dripped down his chest he found himself looking deep into her bewitching emerald coloured eyes, completely captivated.
Introducing herself as she sat on his barrelled chest she suggested, that they get a taxi to her house a few miles from the hotel so he could get cleaned up. As the taxi rumbled down country lanes, they chatted for ages totally engrossed in each other. He told her how he had just finished his Police training after getting out of a dead end job as a cheque authoriser in a bank. Christine told him that she had just finished attending a writing convention at the hotel. She explained that for years she trained to become vet before finally get a job working full time at a small veterinary surgery where she lived in Taunton; but writing romance was her real passion in life and she hoped to start writing full time in the near future. The taxi stopped outside her small cottage and the driver had to do a polite cough before they stopped passionately kissing. She fumbled with her front door keys as her lips locked with his. As soon they walked into her hall they forgot all about Peters stained shirt as they began frantically tearing each other clothes. With her tongue entwined with his he carried her up the stairs.
He gently lay her down on her double bed. Her chest slowly heaving and falling as perspiration glistened on her pert breasts and hard nipples. He softly lay her down on the bed slowly kissing her, running his hands through her long ginger hair, his eyes drinking in her radiating beauty. She started to caress his long stiff pulsating c***, as his tongue explored her month. He ran his hands up and down her smooth body, her hand running up and down his shaft and swollen tip, her other hand caressing and teasing his hairy chest. He started to mould and kneed her breasts, sucking and licking her nipples as she started to moan and cry out in pleasure. He worked his way down her pouting body kissing and nippling her stomach and abdomen. His fingers running down her damp ginger pubes he parted her swollen slippery lips gently with his fingers. She whimpered with pleasure as his fingers started circling her tingling clit; her groan arching up more and more as a warm orgasm built up more and more inside, her smooth legs quivering as they closed in on his hands.
“I need you in me right now!” She gasped. He repositioned himself in between her legs, all the time his eyes deeply locked with hers. She wrapped her legs around his solid barrelled body, her hand grappling with his throbbing c*** pulling him in deep inside her. She squealed with mouth watering delight as he started to thrust deep and hard, his hands around her tiny waist; building up a rhythm. She started to drive herself upwards eagerly meeting his thrusts. His whole body wrapped around her as they seem to melt into each other, she started to bite his shoulder as an orgasm bubbled up inside her, spreading from her groan throughout her body. He drove his c*** deep inside her; feeling like it was melting inside her as he climaxed. They both slumped onto the bed breathless and speechless; their bodies limp as they each lit a cigarette. He ended up spending the entire weekend at her cottage; six months later she moved up to Manchester to be with him, getting a job in a much bigger veterinary surgery. A month later she found out she was pregnant and they got married a few months later.
“Are we ready to have breakfast?” Christine asked snapping Peter back into the present.
“Yeah, we’re ready; will you go and wake him up” Peter said as she placed the bag in the back seat of the car.
Pictures and posters of Manchester United football team lined the walls of Christian’s bedroom. An American Ice Hockey helmet of the Detroit Redwings Ice Hockey team sat pride and place on a shelf above Christian’s bed. Christian had been up for hours, he couldn’t sleep. He loved going camping and been on many a camping trip with the Scouts. He had just been playing an Ice Hockey game on his computer games console when his mother walked into the room.
“Hey, thought you were asleep, come on get dressed I’ve made you some breakfast downstairs.
Christine poured fresh orange juice to into her glass as Peter gave Christian a flick knife engraved with his initials Peter bought for him for the holiday. He wanted to show Christian how to make a real bow. He knew that he’d be responsible enough to use one properly and safely and plus he had one when he was in the Scouts his age. Christine disagreed strongly about giving him a knife and they had many arguments about it. She hated guns, violence and knifes and felt continually disgusted with what see read in newspapers and seen on the television. This was just one of the things Peter loved about her; she was so warm and caring with an exceptionally good heart. But he had argued the fact that he was a Police officer and had therefore had seen and intervened in many brutal fights and deep down he wanted Christian to use the knife if it came down to it in self defence. Eventually she had relented; knowing that if he ever came to god forbid any violent situations her mind was put a little at ease that he had some sort of protection.
The camp site in Snowdonia North Wales was full of tents and caravans when they had eventually arrived hours later. Trees and woodland surrounded the large field the campsite was situated on. The owner of the fields lived in a large farmhouse with barns and sheds; he earned extra money other then farming from renting out his fields and selling gas canisters to the campers.
Peter cursed under is breath a second time as the tent fell down again. Christine and Christian watched from the car laughing. As Christian ran up to his dad offering to help, Christine couldn’t help noticing just how much he was beginning to look like his father. Although he had her green eyes and pointy noise; his sandy coloured hair and beefy athletic build could definitely be attributed to his father. Even at fifteen and half years of age he already towered over her; although she was just five feet tall. Just as they were about to get up and help a blue Ford Focus with suitcases and a tent tied to the roof rack rolled to a stop next to theirs. Richard Gray stepped out, black shades shielding his eyes for the scorching hot morning sun. He walked up to Peter a huge grin spreading on his face, as Jake and Stephen ran up behind him.
“Hey thought you two had been in the boy scouts!” Richard said laughing picking up a tent pole.
“Oh and I suppose you’ve put up hundreds of these things” Peter said as Jake and Stephen picked up two tent pegs and started having a sword fight. Angela and Christine stood next to the car smoking watching with amusement as all four of them struggled to put up the family sized tent.
“Your son’s beginning to look like his father every time I see him” Angela said smoke curling out her mouth, watching Christian hammer away at the tent pegs. She continued “I can see that he will be a very good looking young man when he gets older, whoever he marries will be one lucky woman”
“He better be; I did make him myself” Christine said with a laugh, as a wave a summer heat blew over them.
On a cloudless clear night stars shone down on the four of them as they sat drinking bottles of Stella, feet up smoking as curry bubbled away on a camping stove. Peter had been more then a little generous with the curry powder, even though he knew that Christine wasn’t really fond of spicy food but he was egged on by Angela and Richard who loved Indian food and liked their curry hot, white hot. Christine couldn’t enjoy food that felt like someone had poured petrol in her mouth and lit it with a match, but she could eat creamy mild curry. Pity it wasn’t a good chowmein she thought, she loved Chinese food and was self confessed noodle addict; her and Peter regularly had a Chinese takeaway on a Friday night after Peter knocked off work. Thinking of food however couldn’t take her mind off the worry that built up inside her; the children had been playing football in a nearby field for ages.
“Think I’ll check on the kids” she said standing up.
“Christine, there fine, I checked on them an hour ago and Jake told me to get off the pitch you old fart” Peter said with a laugh, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Angela got up and started swaying, her boozy breath almost intoxicating Christine as she breathed over her.
“I’ll go and check on them, if you like” she slurred. Christine looked at her; Angela’s eyes were glazed over.
“No, like Peter said I’m sure it will be okay”
The rain was lashing heavily and by the time they had found the barn they were completely drenched. They had managed to sneak under a hole in the rotten wooden door. The Rain dripped through holes in the roof as rats scurried around dirty rusting gas canisters. A pool of sticky black oil seeped around rusty drums of oil forming pool oil around stacks of hay. Jake climbed up a ladder that lead onto a second level filled full with straw, Stephen and Christian following him.
“You better have got the cigarette and lighter from you mum, Christian” Jake said taking out a bloke of weed from his coat pocket and a packet of cigarette papers.
“Yeah I got them J” Christian said taking out his mums silver Zippo lighter and king size Embassy cigarette.
“Cool, let’s smoke this s***” Jake said lighting the weed and crumbled bits of into a cigarette paper, the sweet smell of cannabis filling their nostrils as lighting flashed through a single dirty window.
“Look guys I think we better get back, mum and dad are going to be furious with us” Stephen said getting up as Jake rolled the joint.
“Hey where you going little s***, don’t you want any this” Jake said clicking the Zippo, a yellow flame started to lick the flint.
“Let him go” Christian said as Stephen starting climb down the ladder.
“He’s not f***ing going anywhere, I’ve already been grounded once this month thanks to that little s***, he’s always running off and telling mummy and daddy” Jake said dropping the Zippo before jumping down from the platform diving onto his brother wrestling him to the ground.
“Hey dickhead let him go” Christian shouted jumping from the platform onto Jake. He didn’t notice the Zippo still aflame as it starting burn the dry straw as the three of them rolled around on the damp oily floor fighting.
The rain and wind battered the large family sized tent as Peter, Christine and Richard played cards. Angela had been knocking them back since lunch and now she was pissed up and asleep in her sleeping bag. Peter gritted his teeth as Richard won again at Poker; he now had a huge stack of matchsticks. He could also see him eyeing up Christine’s pert little bottom as she got up to open a bottle of red wine for herself while they drank bottles of Stella. The wine sloshed into a huge a wineglass, as Peter and Richard slammed down another bottle.
“Hey look what’s got into you two, it’s not race you know” Christine said a beaming smile spreading across her face. Behind his plastic smile, she could sense that Peter was getting more and more frustrated with Richard’s behaviour. He wasn’t that he was a sore loser but he didn’t like braggers and show-offs; and Richard constantly made a huge song and dance every time he won, saying that he used this strategy and that strategy saying that with a grin cracking his face he knew exactly how to play the game. She could she that the more Peter tried to beat him the more he got frustrated and annoyed when Richard won. Christine could sense an unspoken rivalry building up between them, every since Richard became their accountant and they became best friends with him and Angela, especially since Peter found out not so long ago that her and Richard had a holiday romance when they were both in Mexico a year before her and Peter first met.
“I’m going to go and look for the kids” Christine said taking a large swig of wine.
“I’ll go with you, I could with do some fresh air” Richard said getting up. Peter put a hand on his shoulder as he said
“No, its okay Richard I’ll go with her, besides it’s blowing a storm at there, you’d better stay here and look after Angela.” Christine breathed a big sigh before saying
“Look why don’t we all go, I’m sure Angela’s will be fine for half an hour” Christine said zipping up her leather coat.
Peter held Christine’s hand and kept on kissing every now just to show Richard that she was his as the three of them walked down a muddy dirt track, with huge oak trees either side of them. They had checked the field next to the camp site where the kids had been playing football, the worry bubbled up inside Christine and her stomach churned when they found that Jake, Christian and Stephen weren’t there. She was also getting increasingly irritated at Peter rubbing the fact that she was with him in his face. They were about to turn down another path when they noticed smoke billowing into the air not far away. Maybe it was a mother’s instinct, but she had a sickening feeling that Christian and the other two kids maybe there.
Plumes of flames and smoke licked at the barn. Thick black smoke spiralled in the air as Christian dragged Stephen’s unconscious body out of the barn coughing like a forty a day chain smoker. Christian, Peter and Richard came running up him.
“Where’s Jake Christian, where the f*** is he?” Richard shouted as he ran up to him and shook him.
“He’s still inside” Christian sobbed as he coughed, tears saturating his face.
“Jake!” Richard shouted running up to the barn, as it shockingly and suddenly exploded throwing all four of them to the ground, as pieces of burning wood flew over the top of them. Struggling to his feet Richard scrambled over to the burning barn as fire engines with their horns blaring came skidding to a halt beside them.
“Oh god please no, please god no, Jake!” Richard shouted as fire fighters held him back. Firemen with hoses rushed into the barn as Christian buried his face into his mother’s chest, he opened his hand and a metal object dropped to the ground.
“What did you do, what the f*** did you do” Richard shouted at Christian. Half an hour later, Stephen and Christian was lifted into an ambulance on a stretcher. Richard and Christine climbed into the ambulance after them. Peter was about to follow, when he stooped and picked up the object that Christian had dropped. The object was a flick knife; his blood ran cold when he noticed that the knife was dripping with blood.
Chapter Three
Martin Black stepped out of the shower dabbing himself down with a towel, naked he sprayed Gillette shaving foam onto his hands and started to apply it to his face. Realising his shaving mirror steamed up he rinsed his hands with warm water and dried the mirror with a towel. Flashes of the night before; his dead ex lover lying with her throat slashed in a pool of her own blood. Seeing his characters initials burnt into her body disturbed him and he was violently sick several times afterwards. After having a petrifying night terror he had to convince himself so he could get back too sleep, that the initials were just a coincidence, just meaningless random letters nothing to do with him. He could hear gambled voices coming from the living room as he started to shave with a Gillette Mach 3 Turbo. The mirror steamed up again, he reached up for the towel again but before he could wipe the glass he noticed two initials in the steam; C D. He put his hands too his face and started too scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. With panic spreading through his body he franticly turned the cold tap on, and started splashing his face with cold water. Water dripping from his face as in slow motion he lifted his head up and looked up into the mirror again, with gut wrenching terror Christian’s face covered in blood screaming at him. He raced over to the door to the bathroom, but it was locked. When he did finally open the door it swung inwards with such force that he fell backwards into the bath, his best friend Craig Carter stood in the doorway his hands dripping with blood clutching a knife buried in his chest, sheer pain etched in his face. He lunched at Martin, his fingers clawing at his face as the bathroom exploded into a white light. Martin bolted up in his bed screaming clawing at the walls, sweat dripping from his face. He jumped out of bed and reached for his cigarettes, his hand a blur as he desperately tried too light his cigarette making a vow to himself never to fall asleep again.
A cloud of steam followed Martin as he stepped out of the bathroom in a long dark blue robe, his unruly hair dripping wet. His stomach churned, his head feeling woozy from drinking too much whiskey the night before; he really need coffee! He crossed through the living room, and into the kitchen. Taking out two pieces of wholemeal brown bread he popped them into the chrome toaster, while flicking on the matching coffee maker. The smell of filtering fresh roasting coffee filled his nostrils. He then crossed over to the coffee table in the living room and picked up yesterdays newspaper. He bent over the cream coloured kitchen worktop scanning the headlines, a few moments later the toast popped up. He spread anchor cream butter over the hot toast still reading the front page as the butter melted into the burnt bread. He poured the black coffee into a cup, and took both the toast on a plate and the steaming black coffee over to the round mahogany dining table. He mussed over an article he’d just read in the paper while he eat his toast, titled: Thirty’s the new Twenty’s; how people in their early thirty’s still not married or settled down, still living with their parents and having double the amount of money for leisure than when they were in their twenty’s.
He started to think about his own life; aged thirty five working as a freelance Journalist; writing his novel at night, drinking with his friends Craig Thompson and his wife Michelle, meals out with his girlfriend Sarah. Finishing his toast he took out a Park Road cigarette and lit it with his silver Zippo; inhaling deeply he further mused before walking over to his writing desk in the living room sitting down he started too read his novel.
He had just read up too the barn exploding when Craig; his temporary flat mate since he had a massive row with Michelle a week ago walked into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his short jet black hair dripping wet.
“s***, how long have you been up” Craig said coughing “and how many of those things have you smoked” he swotted the smoky haze.
“I’ve been up since five; couldn’t sleep doesn’t help when your next door neighbour is slaughtered, her throat in shreds” Martin said without looking up, cigarette dangling in his mouth as he carried on typing. The colour drained from Craig’s face.
“Oh my god s*** when did it happen? Have they catched the sick bastard that did it? He said his hand shaking that much that when he tried to pour coffee into his cup, the coffee cascaded out over the table.
“Yeah they hauled a young lad kicking and screaming out of her flat last night” Martin said still not looking up, smoke curling out of his mouth.
“That reminds me when are you, going to make up with Michelle since you hate the smoky atmosphere”
“Look just leave okay, I’m not the one who started it”
“She’s eight month’s pregnant isn’t she, bound to be a bit snappy give her a break”
“I said drop it, can’t even believe that your given me relationship advice from a man who’s longest relationship with a woman is up to now three month’s, how is Sarah by the way; has she finished her homework yet?” Martin should have ignored the dig, but he whirled round
“She may be a Uni student but she’s more mature then your being at the moment you big girl” Martin said flatly “I taped the Detroit Red Wings against Colorado Avalanche; thought we could down some cans get pissed and watch Colorado get slaughtered; sound good? Martin said changing the subject.
“Sounds good to me; you just know that I’ll be an electrifying game, Colorado will win!” Craig said with a sly smile taking a swig from his coffee. He walked then walked into his bedroom.
“Haven’t got that date tonight with Sarah?” he heard Craig shout through the door.
“s***, your right; sorry mate but you haven’t got t***, I’m going to have to leave the game until tomorrow night” Martin shouted back.
Fifteen minutes later, Craig dashed out of his room wearing a shirt, tie black trousers and suit.
“s***, s***; s*** I’m so late for work” he muttered to himself looking at his gold Timex watch with a dark blue numberless dial. He slammed a piece of white bread into the toaster.
“Thought you were late for work” Martin stated slightly irritated, his fingers flying over the keys reaching a crescendo.
“I never go out in the morning with having something to eat and drink, and besides you’re a cup of your disgusting super strong coffee doesn’t count” Craig said reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a bag of Lady Grey tea. A few minutes later the toast popped up, and Craig spread a thin layer of Floria light and took a bite as left the tea bag to stew. Piece of toast still in his hand he dashed back into the bathroom to gel his hair. The bathroom still damp from his shower he noticed the shaving mirror still steamed up. He wanted to use the towel to wipe the mirror but he noticed the only towel lay in a puddle on the laminate flooring, so he decided just to brush his teeth instead. Martin tried to dislodge a piece of paper that had got caught up in his typewriter, a dangling cigarette in his mouth burning away almost reaching the filter as he heard Craig shout out from the bathroom
“By the way, I heard screaming and shouting coming from your room last; now either your were torturing a woman or you were having one of your night terrors” he heard Craig laughing as he whirled out of his chair and ran into the bathroom white hot seething anger bubbling up inside him. Craig whipped round shock and confusion on his face as Martin roughly grabbed him and slammed him against the bathroom wall.
“Don’t bring that s*** up again, not ever again!” Martin shouted at him, his face turning red, breathing heavily.
“Okay….okay Martin chill out will you, I was only messing around; sorry okay” Craig said looking Martin straight into his eyes, a toothbrush comically protruding out of his mouth.
“Sorry mate, it’s just what happened last night seeing my dead neabour laying there on the floor in a pool of her own blood; really shook me up and I had two really chilling night terrors last night, so can you please do me a favour don’t mention them again, friends again?” Martin said his anger evaporating as he held out his hand; deciding not to mention the initials that were burnt into his dead ex lover body.
“Yeah sure Martin, again I’m very sorry; mates for life yeah” Craig said shaking Martins hand before dashing out of the bathroom. Martin slumped over the sink exasperated hearing the front door close a moment later.
It could have been half an hour that had passed since Craig had left or maybe it was an hour, hearing the front close woke Martin up; still slumped at the sink. Wearily he gingerly pulled himself up and strode into the living room head pounding with a sickly headache. He found Sarah, riffling between the seats of his sofa, completely flustered. He stood watching, she wasn’t aware that her. He had met her three month’s ago while he was still with Angela. In a warped way he did actually think she was almost the spitting image of Angela; just a younger version. Or more accurately he was shagging her daughter.
Even though they had been going out now for three month she already had a key to his flat. Watching her, she still didn’t notice that he was standing right behind her.
He remembered how they met; he was writing an article on college students and the dumping down exams for a national tabloid paper. He had interviewed many students that morning; but one stood out Sarah, eighteen years old, dark brown hair, tall with long smooth tanned legs barely covered; by a very short demin skirt, her breasts not quite covered by her low cut silk white top she was wearing. She constantly flirted with him during the interview; he found her deliciously attractive and her bubbly chatty personality infectious. They had bumped into each in a bar in Manchester that night, the same one he and Angela were drinking at. It had took him at least half an hour to get to the bar from where they sat the place was that crowded. Just when the barman had handed him the drinks he ordered; he span around that fast that he almost knocked Sarah to the floor, knocking the drink out of her hand. Vodka and Redbull splashed up Sarah’s legs as she snapped her head round looking like she was about to jump down the bastards fault, but when she noticed it was him; her body posture and attitude changed. He apologised and went to give her a kiss on the cheek, but he missed and his lips hit hers. They passionately kissed before Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd.
“Come on lets get out of here” she said weaving them through the throng. Like being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste they finally managed to scramble out of the bar’s entrance. They both ran, Martin struggling to catch his breath.
“My….apartment….is…just…” he gulped a snatch of air as his lungs burned “round….the….corner” he said noticing a pert arse under a tight skirt as they ran past a group of women. Sarah pulled him along as they weaved through the streets of Manchester, until finally they came to a parked dark blue BMW convertible.
“I’ve got a better idea” Sarah said rummaging through her handbag before finally bringing out her car keys. “My daddy bought me this car for my eighteenth; get in” she said unlocking the door and jumping in.
“Nice, very nice” Martin said truly impressed climbing into the passenger seat. “But you shouldn’t really drink and drive” he said putting his seat belt on.
“That Vodka and Redbull was going to be my first drink” She said smiling looking deep into his green eyes as she started the engine. As they roared through the streets of Manchester, Martin was thankful of the late warm summer night air. They hit countryside two hours later after they furiously chatted non-stop; winding country roads twisted into the darkness that enveloped trees on either side. The BMW came screeching to a halt down a small dirt track just off the country lane surrounded by tree and tall grass. The smell of burnt petrol filling their nostrils as they both looked deep into each others eyes, Martin running his fingers through her long dark brown hair. Stars shown down on the opened top BMW; every now and then cars sped by. Any one of the drivers that drove passed them might have noticed Sarah’s fingers clawing at Martin’s naked back and hammering buttocks as they romped.
Sarah jumped as she span around clutching a mobile phone noticing Martin behind her; snapping him back to the present.
“Oh my god, you scarred the s*** out of me” she said running hands around his waist “I forgot my mobile; when I was in Ibiza I was lost without it”
“Oh so you missed your mobile more than me” Martin said with a sly smile, kissing her soft warm lips.
“Yeah I missed you; that’s why I came straight over from daddy’s, so we can have a quickie before I go to college” she said running hands down her body and into his jeans.
He started to have a conversation with his mind, the voice in his head was saying: She doesn’t know about her mother yet, if you tell her you probably won’t be having sex for months. There’s always Laura, Martin argued back. However his mind counter argued; Laura’s going travelling in Australia for three months remember. Your right Martin agreed although Laura’s infinitely more hotter; Sarah lets us do stuff that we can only dream about doing to Laura and besides she won’t be around for much longer; I won’t tell Sarah for now. As she started to unbutton his shirt they kissed passionately his tongue entwining with hers. She pulled away and said, a twinkle in her brown baby seal eyes
“So you have missed me then”
“I’ve been aching and pining for you every day” Martin said unbuttoning her bra before starting to lead her into his bedroom.
“No, lets do it here” Sarah said pulling him on top of her as she lay back on the on his soft brown leaver sofa “By the way, did anything happen while I’ve been away” she said kissing his smooth chest.
“No, not really” Martin said flatly with wry smile still fighting with his mind before deciding to definitely not to tell her yet as they passionately kissed again.
Chapter 4
The banners on the wall read Happy Sixteenth Birthday Christian amongst silver and gold Christmas decorations. A large Christmas tree oozing warm traditional seasonal values; sat pride and place in the corner of the living room with pine needles scattered around it. Amongst the usual plastic bells, bows and pine cones dangled candy canes and chocolates in the shape of Santa’s, snowmen and Christmas trees. Presents in peculiar shapes and creative wrapping surrounded the tree.
Smoke from the candles wafted towards the ceiling as Christian made a wish.
“What did you wish for Christian?” Peter asked with a curious smile, but Christine put her hand on his lips and said
“No, don’t tell him, if you tell then your wish won’t come true” the twinkle in Christian’s eyes soon faded however.
“I wished that the kids in my class would stop picking on me; they keep calling me names blaming me for happened to Jake” Christian said. Peter put his hand on his son’s arm and asked softly
“What kind of names do they call you Christian?”
“They keep calling me a psycho; chanting that I killed Jake and that you’re a bent cop for covering it all up by setting fire to the barn” Peter looked hard into Christian tearful eyes and said
“Listen to me Christian, what you did was very brave, you rescued Stephen and saved his life, and both me and your mother are very proud of you; never forget that!” Christine gave him a long hug and kissed him on his cheek
“It’s been six months since the accident and Stephen still won’t talk to me” Christian said.
“Stephen will come around in time, you’ll see; I’m sure you will both be best friends again in time” Christine said tenderly.
“Now, go and get dressed in your smart cloths” she put emphasise on the word smart “Your friends and Angela will be arriving in an hour for your birthday party”
The door bell rang as Christian just finished throwing on his silk cream shirt. He could hear muffled voices as he started to gel his wavy sandy coloured hair, he gelled for two reasons, first strands of his hair constantly kept getting into his eyes, and the other was more for vanity.
Angela Gray stood in the hallway with her fury hooded Parka covered in snow.
“You look frozen Angela” Christine said as they walked into the living room, trying not to notice the bruises on her face “how come you didn’t take the car?”
“Richard’s stop me from using it, he blew up when I had a tiny crash the other week” Angela said as Peter walked in with some eggnog for her.
“His he still heavily drinking” Peter gently asked passing her the glass of the creamy coloured liquid, Christine igniting their real coal fire. Angela looked away ashamed. For the first three months after the fire; neither family spoke until Angela ever the peace maker made contact in tears one drunken night and after that the three of them started to speak again.
Since then relations between the three started to thaw, Angela keeping her visits a secret from her husband. Richard blamed Christine for Jakes death even though he saved Stephens life. A week before the court hearing, he bumped into Peter in the local pub, a blazing row had sparked up between them; Richard punched Peter in the face sending him flying over a table. Peter arrested him and threw him in a Police cell over night to cool off. He let him go the next day without charge hoping it would be the end of the matter, but by the look on Angela’s face and the bruises things had got a lot worse. Richard’s bitter anger had also spread to Stephen when one night he had pelted their windows with eggs.
Christian jumped down the last few steps of the stairs as Peter and Christian started to zip up their matching heavy duty winter coats.
“Thanks once again for supervising the party tonight Angela, I should be back by eleven at the latest. Christine said as Christian walked into the room. She still felt guilty about leaving Christian on his Sixteenth birthday but the editor of Woman’s weekly called an emergency meeting.
“It’s fine, I love being here well when you told me that Peter’s also working a late shift tonight at the Police I couldn’t exactly leave Christian here on his own on his Sixteenth birthday now could I”
“Well we owe you a drink” Christine said giving Angela a hug before her and Peter walked into the porch putting on their shoes. Angela walked up to Christian bent down and kissed him on the lips.
“Happy Sixteenth Birthday Christian, I’ve a got a present for you, but I’ll give it to you later” She said with a smile, her warm lips lingering on his perhaps a little too long.
“Hey like your hair, suits you” She said running her hands through spiky gelled hair
The front door closed as she slowly unzipped her Parka, revealing her ample bosom almost bursting out of her low cut long black silk dress.
Music thumped out of the state of the art stereo system as both Angela and Christian sat on the soft brown leather sofa waiting for his friends to show. An hour had passed but none of his so called friends had shown. She spotted the drinks cabinet.
“Hey lets crack open the booze” She said with sly smile.
Snow fell outside as the coal fire blazed away. Christian circled his glass of Martini and lemonade deep as he sat on the sofa watching the Christmas lights twinkling away. The toilet flushed and a moment later Angela walked into the room, a bit tipsy as she staggered over to the Stereo to put on another CD.
“Look its okay you can go. It’s pretty obvious that all my friends hate me and I don’t need a nanny you know” He said looking up at her, his eyes glazed over as his heart felt like lead. Soft music spread across the room like invisible silk.
“Stephen just needs to realise; how much of a good guy you really are, and he will, he really will in time” She said putting her arm around him. Biting his lip he fought the urge to cry as he felt a lump in his throat; his breath almost becoming a whisper.
“But It’s such a mess; look something else happened that night something that I’m not proud of, something that if….” he hiccupped cutting himself off as Martini splashed over his parents laminate flooring.
“Oh s***” he said running off to the kitchen to get a cloth. He finished wiping the floor and found himself looking up at Angela sitting on the sofa. She found her eyes immersing deeper and deeper into his; looking deep into to his soul.
“Look, you saved my sons life and for that I thank you with all my heart” She said leaning forward, the space between their lips closing fast until she could almost feel his breath on her face.
“Not all people hate you, I certainly don’t. I know what you did. In fact when your mum asked me to come over tonight I jumped at the chance, and do you want to know why”
“I already know” he said as their lips touched. He pulled her off the sofa and they seemed to melt into one another on soft grey and white rug. Christian struggled with the urge to get some air as they passionately kissed their lips revolving around each others. They broke away as they felt the fire almost melting their face.
“It doesn’t bother you then that I’m with Richard” she said running her hands through his hair.
“The guy’s a dickhead, he should be proud that he’s got you as a wife”
“Thanks, Happy Christmas Christian” Angela said pulling him up and leading him to the hall. They laughed and giggled all the way up the stairs, they got to Christian’s bedroom when he stopped and looked at her.
“Hey you mentioned my birthday present earlier” She didn’t say a word as she kissed him , a wry smile cracking her face as they walked into his room and closed the door. If anyone had been stood outside his room they might have heard him say.
“Oh, so that’s my birthday present!”
The front door closed and Christine walked into the hall, her eyes tired. When she had dreamt all those years ago of becoming a writer, she hadn’t realised all the hard work and the complexity of being a writer. She rubbed her eyes as she walked into the kitchen kicking of her high heal shoes. Flicking on the kettle she pulled out a bag of herbal tea. She then put two rounds of thick whole meal slices of bread into the toaster. She poured boiling water into a china cup with swirling Chinese patterns and started to dunk the bag as she heard giggling coming from upstairs. Curious she walked towards the hall to investigate. She started to walk up the stairs as the giggling stopped. She opened the door to Christian’s bedroom and found Angela and her son on his bed, flustered and breathing heavily.
Windscreen wipers screeched as snow built up on the Audi 2.8 Quattro windscreen as it sped down the high street. Richard’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes glazed over and bloodshot. He struggled to keep the four door saloon under control as the wheels kept on skidding on the snow covered road. The smell of booze in the car from Richard’s breath could have, stun an Ox. His eyes seemed to be fixated on the road, but his mind was else where. Angela had slipped out too many times before; this time he thought he will put his foot down, literally if he had too.
He had become so convinced that she was playing away; that images of her having sex with his ex best friend Peter flashed through his mind. The more he thought about her in different positions with him, her moaning and groaning as he worked himself up into a sweat the more eat up he got and the more pissed off he got. Right now his teeth that clenched that only a crow bar could open them. It wasn’t the first time that she cheated on him and he broke her jaw the last time. Even when they had met, she had cheated on her then boyfriend with him. At first one of the many things he had loved about her was the fact that she was so dirty and had a libido to power America. They had met twenty years ago in college; they had both been studying Maths. Friends at first, they found that they each had a strong passion for mathematics, music and the arts. Many nights after college had finished they’d go to the pub round the corner; chatting non-stop until closing time, then carrying on drinking tequila slammers at her boyfriends flat. It wasn’t until her boyfriend started to work nights that they started to grow closer and closer, until one night Angela and her boyfriend had a huge row and he stormed out leaving her in tears. She had asked him over, and poured her heart out to him over a bottle of vodka. They a shared a passionate kiss, throwing themselves into it for hours into their jaws ached. They ended up having sex through out that night on the sofa and in her boyfriend’s bed. For good few months afterwards they carried as if nothing had happened, he believing that that one night had been a; revenge shag. But when he started dating her best friend, Angela got jealous and upset over his relationship with her. The night she dumped her boyfriend, they ending up having a massive argument in their local pub and they both screamed out, their love for one another. Soon after he split up with her best friend and that was the start of his and Angela’s rollercoaster of a relationship, almost nine months later however Angela’s best friend walked back into his life with his child, Jake; and they split up soon after. They met again twelve months later a students new years eve party deciding to give their relationship another go if even though Angela now had a two month old baby; Stephen.
Christine walked further into Christian’s room; Angela and Christian both whipped their heads round. A computer fighting game paused on the telly.
“Hey, what happened to your party” she said with a warm smile. Angela placed a hand on Christian’s shoulder.
“No one showed so we cracked open a bottle Martini and Christian decided to tan my arse on this stupid thing” Angela said gesturing towards the games console, with her other hand, a computer controller resting on her lap “I hope you don’t mind; letting him have a drink”
“No, no it’s fine; he’s had a drink with me and his father before now, I believe that I’d rather he drink in the safety of this house rather then on the streets”
“Well, my fingers are absolutely arching now” Angela said shaking her hand “we’ve been button bashing for hours; but I’ve got to admit your son certainly knows, how to press all the right buttons!” she said winking at Christian with a twinkle in her eyes.
Peter was just putting his key into his front door lock, as the silver Audi sliced through the snow and came skidding to halt outside his house. Peter groaned when he noticed who it was. Richard stepped out his face like thunder, and staggered up the driveway.
“Where is she hey, not content shagging your own wife, you have to start having mine; don’t you” Richard spat, pointing a finger right in Peter’s face
“Well it’s not on, it’s not f***ing on!” Richard said swaying. Peter sighed, he didn’t need this; he had a long night with gangs of lads in fights, drunks throwing up and being aggressive, all he wanted right now was to be with his loving wife and son.
“Go home Richard, your pissed and making a fool of yourself, go home before I do something I’ll regret” Peter said wearily rubbing his tired eyes.
“Do what hey Peter, nick me like you did last time so you can go on shagging my wife; well I like to see you try” Richard said taking a swing at Peter. His reflexes razor sharp Peter ducked grabbed Richard’s arm and twisted behind his back; he then roughly bumbled him down the driveway opened the door to Richard’s car and shoved him roughly inside before shouting
“Stay away from me and my family or I’ll do more then arrest you next time!” Richard started his car but driving off he shouted back
“You know what Peter; your wife certainly didn’t spit when she was in Mexico with me!” Richard laughed before he smashed his foot down on the accerator, and his car roared back up the road.
The sound of crying awoke Christian from a dreamless sleep. Curious he threw on a pair of boxers and went to investigate. The sobbing came from the spare room. He opened the door and switched on the light, Angela was sat on the bed in just her bra and black silky knickers, she looked up at him, her mascara had run that much that her eyes resembled those of a panda. She didn’t say anything as she buried her head into his chest.
Chapter Five
Martin ran his fingers through his ruffled hair as he read the last paragraph he had just written. Thoughts bolted though his mind; did Angela seduce Christian? Knowing that he fancied her, letting him toy with her or did Christian really seduce Angela; playing with her emotions knowing that she burned for him and what she believed him to be a good guy who saved her son. But even this Martin knew was a bit misleading as he believed Angela chose to ignore her own instincts that something else happened in the barn on that fateful night and that Christian was involved. He closed his eyes an unlit cigarette in his mouth; a distant ringing sound interrupted his mind plunging further into the relationship between Angela and Christian. As he scrambled for his phone; he already knew who was ringing, Sarah phoning to remind him of having dinner to tonight.
Piano music played in the background of the Italian bar/restaurant Martin and Sarah sat in. Sarah hummed quietly to herself as she read the menu considering what to have. Martin lit a cigarette as he mused, the restaurant was that exclusiv
This book is very disturbing as it delves deep into humanitys morals and follows Christian; a twisted sadomasochist serial killer, a character created by Martin Black; writing a novel 'Dark Path'
When he starts to write the final page however; own character begins stalking him; drawing into a world of twisted toture and morals where lies a darker fate awaiting both of them.........
Please posts any thoughts or feelings you have as any comments I welcome.
It's a novel that gives you a cold hard slap in the face.
When a few people in my office read, it was as if a newtron bomb had exploded.
So decide for yourselves what Dark Path really is about:
Dark Path - by Mark Silgram copyright2005
Prologue
Rain battered the windows of the small two bed room flat, as the cold November bitter wind swirled and whistled outside. Martin Black increasingly became aware of the wall clock ticking away above him. He had been checking the time every ten minutes for the last three hours and now the time on the clock read 1am. Cigarette smoke blew over the top of the type writer his fingers stubbed out a cigarette in an already overflowing ashtray. He then drank the last drop of Southern Comfort in the glass and poured himself another large measure of the golden liquid. He started to hammer the keys again as he typed away, but then he stopped, taking out the last cigarette he screwed the packet up in frustration and threw it at the type writer. He let the cigarette dangle between his lips as he turned his silver Zippo lighter over and over in his hand, his mind deep in thought. In his mind he could see his character Christian Dobbs holding a knife in his hand. What are you thinking Christian; Martin thought. What emotions are you experiencing when you bring that knife down slashing her throat? He clicked his Zippo and lit his cigarette, taking a long deep drag. Blood sprayed up Christian’s face as Martin tapped away again at the keys, his heart thumping as he blew smoke slowly out of his mouth. What are you thinking Christian? Why don’t you stop?
Although Martin had been writing now for a full solid three hours, his writing still felt wooden. Standing up he started to pace the floor, he suddenly felt tired and his head was still thumping from a sickly headache. He crossed over to the window and leaned on the window sill, exhaling smoke, watching the rain lash down through the darkness outside. Rain always helped him think; at night after when he had one of his night terrors and he started to worry that he would have another listening to the rain beating on the windows always seemed to settle him. Maybe it was the way that it reminded him of reality. Night terrors scarred the s*** out him; the really big episodes made him shake in fear and he would worry and panic for ages afterwards. During a night terror his perception of reality to him distorted like a waking dream or nightmare. He would start seeing objects, animals or insects that weren’t really there, hear people or ghosts whispering in ear his strange haunting weird s***. He would then start thrashing around wildly in bed shouting and screaming before sitting bolt upright absolutely terrified with sweat dripping down his forehead. The rain calmed him and reminded him that the real world still carried on as normal outside.
Looking through his flat window he watched a group of lads staggering around Manchester city centre oblivious to the cold rain slashing down as they staggered towards the Chinese takeaway opposite the block of flats Martin lived in. Taking another long deep drag of his cigarette, he thought back to when he first started his novel. At first he was a shy I’ll write when I’m in mood kind of writer but now as he became ever deeply drawn into Christian’s dark pysique, he hadn’t had a decent nights sleep since.
Writing at odd hours and waking up at odd times had wrecked his sleeping patterns. His night terrors had got a lot worse over the last few months and even drinking whiskey to knock him out for the night wasn’t helping. Taking a break from his novel however was out of the question. He had got so involved with his main character, he was starting to become intertwined and engrossed in him; he wanted to know more and more of what made Christian tick.
He walked back over to the table and ground his cigarette out with his thumb. Downing his second glass of Southern Comfort he decided that he needed a small break of indulgence. Rifling through the cupboard in the kitchen he found a small bottle of Couruoisier Cognac that he’d been saving for special occasions.
The crisp smooth golden liquid sloshed into the whiskey glass as Martin sank into his soft brown leather sofa. He had just put his feet up on the coffee table and flicked on the Television, when he heard banging and shouting coming from next door. Curious he opened his front door, glass of brandy still in his hand. A man that Martin didn’t recognise was being dragged out of his neighbours flat kicking shouting and swearing.
“I didn’t do it f***ing pigs, I didn’t kill her!” Martin watched from his front door as two police officers dragged the man from the flat and into the lift, as another police officer kept guard beside the door. Noticing Martin watching; the police officer walked over to him.
“Please Sir if you’d like to step back into your flat….”
“Yeah sure, but huh…I know the woman, we were kind of involved until just recently”
“In that case Sir I’d like you to step this way to identify the body.” The police officer said as Martin, Cognac sloshing in his mouth with butterflies and a sense of dread churning in his stomach followed police officer into the flat and the first thing he noticed were the forensic team combing every millimetre of the floor looking for clues. Blood streaked across the floor, as Martin walked further into the flat. That’s when he noticed the body of his ex lover lying on the floor; her neck looked like it had been repeatedly been slashed several times.
“Sir, is this the body of Miss Angela Robertson?” the police officer asked gesturing with his hand towards the body, with tears in his eyes and his mouth as dry as sand paper Martin said
“Yes, yes it is” His hand was shaking as he took a long swig of his brandy, feeling his legs turning to jelly. He wanted to run out of the flat but as he looked further at the body he noticed something that made his blood cold as a bolt of ice ran up his spine, as if in slow motion the glass slipped from his grip and shattered, the brown liquid cascaded out over the floor.
On the body of his ex lover scorched into her skin on her stomach were the initials C D.
Chapter 1
Drops of tears dropped onto the wooden floor as Christian’s collar started to itch. His tie seemed to be strangling him as a wave of blistering summer heat washed over him. At Sixteen years old there were many things he could have been doing on a hot summer day such as playing football with his mates. Instead he was watching the vicar read out a moving parable from the bible at his mother’s funeral. He couldn’t even remember how she died at the hands of her killer even though he was there when was she was brutally stabbed. Subconsciously he started to rub the stitches of the knife wound he received that night. His black trousers started to stick to him as his bum kept on sliding on the wooden church bench. He looked at his father; his eyes were bloodshot with tears rolling down his face, he looked tired very tired like he hadn’t slept for ages. His father put his arm around him clutched him tightly, .
“Christian it’s going to be okay, I’ll find and arrest the bastard that did this I promise! It’s just me and you now and we’re a team aren’t we” all Christian could do was bury his head in father’s chest and start to cry.
So ironically on a hot day, rain drummed on the roof of Peter’s car as it sped down the road. He looked at Christian worried, he hadn’t spoken all day.
“Hey Christian, you haven’t said a word all day, I know we were both supposed to be at the wake but I was thinking if you would feel more comfortable at Stephens house instead?” Christian nodded as he looked out of the window deep in thought. Although fragments of what happened the night his mother was murdered appeared to be missing from his memory, bits of that night stuck in his mind like glass. In his mind he could hear his mother screaming in shear terror, a blood gurgling scream as she crawled along the floor badly wounded, dripping with blood her hands reached for her mobile, as Christian lay against the wall, blood seeped through his fingers as he held his hand over the deep knife wound to his abdomen. Her bloody fingers fumbled with the mobile but the battery was dead.
Christian jolted back to the present as the car stopped. Still shaking he stepped out.
“Hey Christian I’ll pick you up later and then do you want to us both to watch Manchester United V Liverpool on sky? Peter said getting out of his car and walking up to Christian.
“Yeah, thanks dad”
“Hey, we’ll get through this together okay” Peter said reassuringly, putting his hand on Christians shoulder. As Christian walked up to his friend’s front door his father shouted.
“I’ll pick you up at seven, kick off is at eight!” Peter then waited until the front door opened before getting back into his car. He then started the car and drove up the road.
As a teenager maybe Christian couldn’t quite appreciate the detached house his friend Steven lived in with his mother Angela Gray and his Step father Richard Gray, but he would certainly love to live there. With a gravelled driveway that winded it’s way up to the large garage. A beautiful front garden with flowers of different kinds was on either side of a pathway leading up to the front door. At the back was a conservatory leading onto a patio which lead onto a path circling a fish pond. A perfectly cut lawn lay on either side of the pond. At the back of the garden lay a huge field that the school nearby used for cross country. A satellite dish and silver Audi 2.8 Quattro on the driveway completed the picture. They also owned a blue Ford Focus. Inside the house however was a complete mess just like the state of Angela and Richard Grays marriage. One an accountant and the other a teacher, they had met the Dobbs when Richard Gray became their accountant several years ago. Since then Stephen and Christian had become best of friends.
As Christian watched his father get back into the car, Angela opened the door in her dressing gown, her long dark brown hair dripping wet.
“Hey Christian, come on in, Stephen’s just nipped to the shop with his dad they won’t be long.” Christian followed her into the living room from the hall. He had always felt awkward and shy around his other friend’s parents but with Angela he felt comfortable like he could chat to her like an adult rather then a teenager, even though she was his English teacher at school. Their living room was large with a twenty one inch wide screen television in one corner of the room. The television stood next to a white and black marble fire place. Opposite the fire place sat a long three seat black leather sofa, with another black leather chair sitting next to the television. Christian slumped on the sofa as Angela sat on the chair.
“I’m really sorry to hear about your mother” she said as lit a cigarette taking a long deep drag. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she then crossed her legs slowly and Christian was more then a little embarrassed that he could see her pubic hair.
“No, its okay me and my dad have each other and he’s been great” Christian said trying to focus on her face while trying to hide a grin. Noticing the expression on Christian face, Angela was more amused then embarrassed that he could see under her robe, she continued pretending not to notice.
“I’m sorry to pry, but Stephen told me that you had a black out the night your mother was murdered and that you can’t remember anything; is that true?”
“Yeah it’s true, the doctor huh the doctor” Christian put his head in between his hands and started to cry, as Angela got up and sat next to him.
“Go on, it’s okay I’m here for you” she said putting her arm around him.
“The doctor said that I had such big a shock that I may never fully remember what happened” Christian said his eyes red, as Angela hugged him. As she hugged him his mind again flashed back to that night. In his mind he could hear shouting and swearing but they sounded distant and muffled.
“…..he’s just a boy you sick f***er, I’m phoning the police…..” He could see his mother as she was punched to the floor but he couldn’t see clearly her attacker. The knife slashed down.
The sound of a door slamming snapped Christian back to the present. Richard Gray walked into the living room. Christian’s posture immediately changed when his eyes came into contact with Richard’s. Richard’s eyes seemed to burrow deep into his a look of seething hatred.
“Richard, before you start he’s just come back from his own mothers funeral” Angela said getting up from the sofa and putting her arm around her husband. Richard didn’t say a word; he just walked straight out and into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Christian relaxed again as Stephen walked in carrying the latest Nintendo game.
“Hey Chris, how’d it go today at your mums funeral?” Stephen asked kicking off his blue Nike Air max.
“Hey Ste, I’d rather not talk about it if that’s cool with you” Christian said
“Well do you wanna have a blast on this” Stephen said tapping the computer game, trying to hide his excitement bubbling up inside him. Christian got up and shrugged.
“Yeah sure, you know that I’ll whup your arse anyway!” Christian as they both started too bound up the stairs towards Stephen’s room.
Stephen’s controller slammed down for a fifth time. Whatever he did, no matter how much button bashing he did, he just couldn’t beat Christian.
“Dickhead!” he shouted at Christian before playfully punching him hard in the arm. Christian’s smug grin was all too apparent.
“Well I did tell you, dickhead!” Christian said “do you wanna play something else that you’re better at, maybe something more girlie perhaps” he said rolling on Stephens bed laughing. His was winded by a football on his stomach.
“No, let’s play football” Stephen said a grin cracking his face.
As Stephen and Christian ran downstairs they could hear violent shouting and swearing coming from downstairs in the kitchen. Curious they both tip toed towards the kitchen door and it opened the door slightly. Richard and Stephen’s mother both locked in a blazing row.
“I told you I don’t want that little dickhead in my house again!” Richard shouted
“Yeah and I told you to drop it; the accident was recorded as misadventure and he’s just lost mother, it’s been twelve months, let it f***ing go!” Angela screamed back. Christian’s heart pounded, blood rushed to his head as he started to feel sick as he realised that they were rowing about him. He was about to storm in, maybe shout at them to stop when things started to turn nasty. Richard threw the cup he was drinking against the wall and with frustration and anger burning deep in his eyes he strode up to her and grabbed her arms tightly. He started to shake her violently as he spat
“Oh and you’d love that wouldn’t you, you’d love for him to keep coming here sniffing around you, you getting wet and pouting at him when I’m at work!”
“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again” Angela said shaking with fear tears rolling down her eyes “Well go then; do it slap, kick and punch me like you always do, but you know what I f***ing loved it!” she said her tear sodden eyes looking deep into his. Richard looked like he was about to walk away, when all of sudden he punched Angela and knocked her to the kitchen floor. He then started to kick and punch her as he shouted
“I don’t give a s*** about you anymore Angela, you’re just a cheap sick sl**; I don’t care what you say that little bastard killed my son and you know what I’m glad his f***ing mother’s dead!”
Chapter Two
Twelve months earlier
Christine Dobbs filled a stainless steel flask with boiling hot water. A light breeze filled the kitchen, the door wide open so she could hear the bird’s tweeting; the new summer’s day embracing her like a new born baby. She glanced at the cookers clock; the green LED display read 5am. Christine loved the mornings, being a romance writer for woman’s weekly she’d often got up at 5am, make a cup of Earl Gray tea and sit out in the garden typing away on her laptop with the grass swaying gently around her. This morning however she was doubly excited. Christine and her husband Peter decided to go on a camping holiday with their son Christian. Their friends Richard and Angela Gray with their two sons Stephen aged fourteen and Jake aged Fifteen; also joining them at the camp site.
Peter loaded up their silver Ford Mondeo with bags, suitcases and a tent with camping equipment. He had just closed the boot when he noticed his petite wife walking down the garden path carrying a flowery bag loaded with tea, sandwiches and biscuits for the journey with crossword puzzles and Beano comics for Christian. He watched her walking towards the car her long ginger hair gently swaying in the cool summer air. Her beauty still mesmerised him even after almost sixteen years of marriage. They had met seventeen years ago on Valentines Day in a country hotel bar. He had decided to surprise his then girlfriend and take her away on a romantic country break, not knowing that she intended to break up with him. She blurted out that she had been having an affair for months during a candle lit dinner. A blazing row followed and she stormed out the hotel and out of his life. So that’s how he found himself at nine o’clock at night sat slumped at the bar on Valentines drinking drink after drink; with a crushed heart. With a couple of sits separating them a beautiful petite woman with long ginger hair also sat slumped sipping a class of Jacobs Creek red wine scribbling away in a note book. An hour passed until they both noticed each other. A metallic clunk snapped him out of self pity, eyes scanning the floor, they eventual locked onto a silver parker pen and then on the beautiful petite woman sitting next to him, notepad open on the bar top. Cool as a, ice he bent over and shot out his hand fishing on the floor for the pen. At least that was the idea; what actually happened was he toppled over and went face first onto the floor. The stunning woman instantly offered to help him up, but at the last moment her heal had got caught in the stool leg; losing her balance she ended up on top of him still amazingly holding her glass of wine. They could almost he hear the clichéd romantic music in the background as Peter moved in for a kiss; but as their lips moved closer, freckles sprinkled across her cute face the woman hiccupped so violently her wine cascaded out onto his face and shirt. As the cold wine dripped down his chest he found himself looking deep into her bewitching emerald coloured eyes, completely captivated.
Introducing herself as she sat on his barrelled chest she suggested, that they get a taxi to her house a few miles from the hotel so he could get cleaned up. As the taxi rumbled down country lanes, they chatted for ages totally engrossed in each other. He told her how he had just finished his Police training after getting out of a dead end job as a cheque authoriser in a bank. Christine told him that she had just finished attending a writing convention at the hotel. She explained that for years she trained to become vet before finally get a job working full time at a small veterinary surgery where she lived in Taunton; but writing romance was her real passion in life and she hoped to start writing full time in the near future. The taxi stopped outside her small cottage and the driver had to do a polite cough before they stopped passionately kissing. She fumbled with her front door keys as her lips locked with his. As soon they walked into her hall they forgot all about Peters stained shirt as they began frantically tearing each other clothes. With her tongue entwined with his he carried her up the stairs.
He gently lay her down on her double bed. Her chest slowly heaving and falling as perspiration glistened on her pert breasts and hard nipples. He softly lay her down on the bed slowly kissing her, running his hands through her long ginger hair, his eyes drinking in her radiating beauty. She started to caress his long stiff pulsating c***, as his tongue explored her month. He ran his hands up and down her smooth body, her hand running up and down his shaft and swollen tip, her other hand caressing and teasing his hairy chest. He started to mould and kneed her breasts, sucking and licking her nipples as she started to moan and cry out in pleasure. He worked his way down her pouting body kissing and nippling her stomach and abdomen. His fingers running down her damp ginger pubes he parted her swollen slippery lips gently with his fingers. She whimpered with pleasure as his fingers started circling her tingling clit; her groan arching up more and more as a warm orgasm built up more and more inside, her smooth legs quivering as they closed in on his hands.
“I need you in me right now!” She gasped. He repositioned himself in between her legs, all the time his eyes deeply locked with hers. She wrapped her legs around his solid barrelled body, her hand grappling with his throbbing c*** pulling him in deep inside her. She squealed with mouth watering delight as he started to thrust deep and hard, his hands around her tiny waist; building up a rhythm. She started to drive herself upwards eagerly meeting his thrusts. His whole body wrapped around her as they seem to melt into each other, she started to bite his shoulder as an orgasm bubbled up inside her, spreading from her groan throughout her body. He drove his c*** deep inside her; feeling like it was melting inside her as he climaxed. They both slumped onto the bed breathless and speechless; their bodies limp as they each lit a cigarette. He ended up spending the entire weekend at her cottage; six months later she moved up to Manchester to be with him, getting a job in a much bigger veterinary surgery. A month later she found out she was pregnant and they got married a few months later.
“Are we ready to have breakfast?” Christine asked snapping Peter back into the present.
“Yeah, we’re ready; will you go and wake him up” Peter said as she placed the bag in the back seat of the car.
Pictures and posters of Manchester United football team lined the walls of Christian’s bedroom. An American Ice Hockey helmet of the Detroit Redwings Ice Hockey team sat pride and place on a shelf above Christian’s bed. Christian had been up for hours, he couldn’t sleep. He loved going camping and been on many a camping trip with the Scouts. He had just been playing an Ice Hockey game on his computer games console when his mother walked into the room.
“Hey, thought you were asleep, come on get dressed I’ve made you some breakfast downstairs.
Christine poured fresh orange juice to into her glass as Peter gave Christian a flick knife engraved with his initials Peter bought for him for the holiday. He wanted to show Christian how to make a real bow. He knew that he’d be responsible enough to use one properly and safely and plus he had one when he was in the Scouts his age. Christine disagreed strongly about giving him a knife and they had many arguments about it. She hated guns, violence and knifes and felt continually disgusted with what see read in newspapers and seen on the television. This was just one of the things Peter loved about her; she was so warm and caring with an exceptionally good heart. But he had argued the fact that he was a Police officer and had therefore had seen and intervened in many brutal fights and deep down he wanted Christian to use the knife if it came down to it in self defence. Eventually she had relented; knowing that if he ever came to god forbid any violent situations her mind was put a little at ease that he had some sort of protection.
The camp site in Snowdonia North Wales was full of tents and caravans when they had eventually arrived hours later. Trees and woodland surrounded the large field the campsite was situated on. The owner of the fields lived in a large farmhouse with barns and sheds; he earned extra money other then farming from renting out his fields and selling gas canisters to the campers.
Peter cursed under is breath a second time as the tent fell down again. Christine and Christian watched from the car laughing. As Christian ran up to his dad offering to help, Christine couldn’t help noticing just how much he was beginning to look like his father. Although he had her green eyes and pointy noise; his sandy coloured hair and beefy athletic build could definitely be attributed to his father. Even at fifteen and half years of age he already towered over her; although she was just five feet tall. Just as they were about to get up and help a blue Ford Focus with suitcases and a tent tied to the roof rack rolled to a stop next to theirs. Richard Gray stepped out, black shades shielding his eyes for the scorching hot morning sun. He walked up to Peter a huge grin spreading on his face, as Jake and Stephen ran up behind him.
“Hey thought you two had been in the boy scouts!” Richard said laughing picking up a tent pole.
“Oh and I suppose you’ve put up hundreds of these things” Peter said as Jake and Stephen picked up two tent pegs and started having a sword fight. Angela and Christine stood next to the car smoking watching with amusement as all four of them struggled to put up the family sized tent.
“Your son’s beginning to look like his father every time I see him” Angela said smoke curling out her mouth, watching Christian hammer away at the tent pegs. She continued “I can see that he will be a very good looking young man when he gets older, whoever he marries will be one lucky woman”
“He better be; I did make him myself” Christine said with a laugh, as a wave a summer heat blew over them.
On a cloudless clear night stars shone down on the four of them as they sat drinking bottles of Stella, feet up smoking as curry bubbled away on a camping stove. Peter had been more then a little generous with the curry powder, even though he knew that Christine wasn’t really fond of spicy food but he was egged on by Angela and Richard who loved Indian food and liked their curry hot, white hot. Christine couldn’t enjoy food that felt like someone had poured petrol in her mouth and lit it with a match, but she could eat creamy mild curry. Pity it wasn’t a good chowmein she thought, she loved Chinese food and was self confessed noodle addict; her and Peter regularly had a Chinese takeaway on a Friday night after Peter knocked off work. Thinking of food however couldn’t take her mind off the worry that built up inside her; the children had been playing football in a nearby field for ages.
“Think I’ll check on the kids” she said standing up.
“Christine, there fine, I checked on them an hour ago and Jake told me to get off the pitch you old fart” Peter said with a laugh, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Angela got up and started swaying, her boozy breath almost intoxicating Christine as she breathed over her.
“I’ll go and check on them, if you like” she slurred. Christine looked at her; Angela’s eyes were glazed over.
“No, like Peter said I’m sure it will be okay”
The rain was lashing heavily and by the time they had found the barn they were completely drenched. They had managed to sneak under a hole in the rotten wooden door. The Rain dripped through holes in the roof as rats scurried around dirty rusting gas canisters. A pool of sticky black oil seeped around rusty drums of oil forming pool oil around stacks of hay. Jake climbed up a ladder that lead onto a second level filled full with straw, Stephen and Christian following him.
“You better have got the cigarette and lighter from you mum, Christian” Jake said taking out a bloke of weed from his coat pocket and a packet of cigarette papers.
“Yeah I got them J” Christian said taking out his mums silver Zippo lighter and king size Embassy cigarette.
“Cool, let’s smoke this s***” Jake said lighting the weed and crumbled bits of into a cigarette paper, the sweet smell of cannabis filling their nostrils as lighting flashed through a single dirty window.
“Look guys I think we better get back, mum and dad are going to be furious with us” Stephen said getting up as Jake rolled the joint.
“Hey where you going little s***, don’t you want any this” Jake said clicking the Zippo, a yellow flame started to lick the flint.
“Let him go” Christian said as Stephen starting climb down the ladder.
“He’s not f***ing going anywhere, I’ve already been grounded once this month thanks to that little s***, he’s always running off and telling mummy and daddy” Jake said dropping the Zippo before jumping down from the platform diving onto his brother wrestling him to the ground.
“Hey dickhead let him go” Christian shouted jumping from the platform onto Jake. He didn’t notice the Zippo still aflame as it starting burn the dry straw as the three of them rolled around on the damp oily floor fighting.
The rain and wind battered the large family sized tent as Peter, Christine and Richard played cards. Angela had been knocking them back since lunch and now she was pissed up and asleep in her sleeping bag. Peter gritted his teeth as Richard won again at Poker; he now had a huge stack of matchsticks. He could also see him eyeing up Christine’s pert little bottom as she got up to open a bottle of red wine for herself while they drank bottles of Stella. The wine sloshed into a huge a wineglass, as Peter and Richard slammed down another bottle.
“Hey look what’s got into you two, it’s not race you know” Christine said a beaming smile spreading across her face. Behind his plastic smile, she could sense that Peter was getting more and more frustrated with Richard’s behaviour. He wasn’t that he was a sore loser but he didn’t like braggers and show-offs; and Richard constantly made a huge song and dance every time he won, saying that he used this strategy and that strategy saying that with a grin cracking his face he knew exactly how to play the game. She could she that the more Peter tried to beat him the more he got frustrated and annoyed when Richard won. Christine could sense an unspoken rivalry building up between them, every since Richard became their accountant and they became best friends with him and Angela, especially since Peter found out not so long ago that her and Richard had a holiday romance when they were both in Mexico a year before her and Peter first met.
“I’m going to go and look for the kids” Christine said taking a large swig of wine.
“I’ll go with you, I could with do some fresh air” Richard said getting up. Peter put a hand on his shoulder as he said
“No, its okay Richard I’ll go with her, besides it’s blowing a storm at there, you’d better stay here and look after Angela.” Christine breathed a big sigh before saying
“Look why don’t we all go, I’m sure Angela’s will be fine for half an hour” Christine said zipping up her leather coat.
Peter held Christine’s hand and kept on kissing every now just to show Richard that she was his as the three of them walked down a muddy dirt track, with huge oak trees either side of them. They had checked the field next to the camp site where the kids had been playing football, the worry bubbled up inside Christine and her stomach churned when they found that Jake, Christian and Stephen weren’t there. She was also getting increasingly irritated at Peter rubbing the fact that she was with him in his face. They were about to turn down another path when they noticed smoke billowing into the air not far away. Maybe it was a mother’s instinct, but she had a sickening feeling that Christian and the other two kids maybe there.
Plumes of flames and smoke licked at the barn. Thick black smoke spiralled in the air as Christian dragged Stephen’s unconscious body out of the barn coughing like a forty a day chain smoker. Christian, Peter and Richard came running up him.
“Where’s Jake Christian, where the f*** is he?” Richard shouted as he ran up to him and shook him.
“He’s still inside” Christian sobbed as he coughed, tears saturating his face.
“Jake!” Richard shouted running up to the barn, as it shockingly and suddenly exploded throwing all four of them to the ground, as pieces of burning wood flew over the top of them. Struggling to his feet Richard scrambled over to the burning barn as fire engines with their horns blaring came skidding to a halt beside them.
“Oh god please no, please god no, Jake!” Richard shouted as fire fighters held him back. Firemen with hoses rushed into the barn as Christian buried his face into his mother’s chest, he opened his hand and a metal object dropped to the ground.
“What did you do, what the f*** did you do” Richard shouted at Christian. Half an hour later, Stephen and Christian was lifted into an ambulance on a stretcher. Richard and Christine climbed into the ambulance after them. Peter was about to follow, when he stooped and picked up the object that Christian had dropped. The object was a flick knife; his blood ran cold when he noticed that the knife was dripping with blood.
Chapter Three
Martin Black stepped out of the shower dabbing himself down with a towel, naked he sprayed Gillette shaving foam onto his hands and started to apply it to his face. Realising his shaving mirror steamed up he rinsed his hands with warm water and dried the mirror with a towel. Flashes of the night before; his dead ex lover lying with her throat slashed in a pool of her own blood. Seeing his characters initials burnt into her body disturbed him and he was violently sick several times afterwards. After having a petrifying night terror he had to convince himself so he could get back too sleep, that the initials were just a coincidence, just meaningless random letters nothing to do with him. He could hear gambled voices coming from the living room as he started to shave with a Gillette Mach 3 Turbo. The mirror steamed up again, he reached up for the towel again but before he could wipe the glass he noticed two initials in the steam; C D. He put his hands too his face and started too scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. With panic spreading through his body he franticly turned the cold tap on, and started splashing his face with cold water. Water dripping from his face as in slow motion he lifted his head up and looked up into the mirror again, with gut wrenching terror Christian’s face covered in blood screaming at him. He raced over to the door to the bathroom, but it was locked. When he did finally open the door it swung inwards with such force that he fell backwards into the bath, his best friend Craig Carter stood in the doorway his hands dripping with blood clutching a knife buried in his chest, sheer pain etched in his face. He lunched at Martin, his fingers clawing at his face as the bathroom exploded into a white light. Martin bolted up in his bed screaming clawing at the walls, sweat dripping from his face. He jumped out of bed and reached for his cigarettes, his hand a blur as he desperately tried too light his cigarette making a vow to himself never to fall asleep again.
A cloud of steam followed Martin as he stepped out of the bathroom in a long dark blue robe, his unruly hair dripping wet. His stomach churned, his head feeling woozy from drinking too much whiskey the night before; he really need coffee! He crossed through the living room, and into the kitchen. Taking out two pieces of wholemeal brown bread he popped them into the chrome toaster, while flicking on the matching coffee maker. The smell of filtering fresh roasting coffee filled his nostrils. He then crossed over to the coffee table in the living room and picked up yesterdays newspaper. He bent over the cream coloured kitchen worktop scanning the headlines, a few moments later the toast popped up. He spread anchor cream butter over the hot toast still reading the front page as the butter melted into the burnt bread. He poured the black coffee into a cup, and took both the toast on a plate and the steaming black coffee over to the round mahogany dining table. He mussed over an article he’d just read in the paper while he eat his toast, titled: Thirty’s the new Twenty’s; how people in their early thirty’s still not married or settled down, still living with their parents and having double the amount of money for leisure than when they were in their twenty’s.
He started to think about his own life; aged thirty five working as a freelance Journalist; writing his novel at night, drinking with his friends Craig Thompson and his wife Michelle, meals out with his girlfriend Sarah. Finishing his toast he took out a Park Road cigarette and lit it with his silver Zippo; inhaling deeply he further mused before walking over to his writing desk in the living room sitting down he started too read his novel.
He had just read up too the barn exploding when Craig; his temporary flat mate since he had a massive row with Michelle a week ago walked into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his short jet black hair dripping wet.
“s***, how long have you been up” Craig said coughing “and how many of those things have you smoked” he swotted the smoky haze.
“I’ve been up since five; couldn’t sleep doesn’t help when your next door neighbour is slaughtered, her throat in shreds” Martin said without looking up, cigarette dangling in his mouth as he carried on typing. The colour drained from Craig’s face.
“Oh my god s*** when did it happen? Have they catched the sick bastard that did it? He said his hand shaking that much that when he tried to pour coffee into his cup, the coffee cascaded out over the table.
“Yeah they hauled a young lad kicking and screaming out of her flat last night” Martin said still not looking up, smoke curling out of his mouth.
“That reminds me when are you, going to make up with Michelle since you hate the smoky atmosphere”
“Look just leave okay, I’m not the one who started it”
“She’s eight month’s pregnant isn’t she, bound to be a bit snappy give her a break”
“I said drop it, can’t even believe that your given me relationship advice from a man who’s longest relationship with a woman is up to now three month’s, how is Sarah by the way; has she finished her homework yet?” Martin should have ignored the dig, but he whirled round
“She may be a Uni student but she’s more mature then your being at the moment you big girl” Martin said flatly “I taped the Detroit Red Wings against Colorado Avalanche; thought we could down some cans get pissed and watch Colorado get slaughtered; sound good? Martin said changing the subject.
“Sounds good to me; you just know that I’ll be an electrifying game, Colorado will win!” Craig said with a sly smile taking a swig from his coffee. He walked then walked into his bedroom.
“Haven’t got that date tonight with Sarah?” he heard Craig shout through the door.
“s***, your right; sorry mate but you haven’t got t***, I’m going to have to leave the game until tomorrow night” Martin shouted back.
Fifteen minutes later, Craig dashed out of his room wearing a shirt, tie black trousers and suit.
“s***, s***; s*** I’m so late for work” he muttered to himself looking at his gold Timex watch with a dark blue numberless dial. He slammed a piece of white bread into the toaster.
“Thought you were late for work” Martin stated slightly irritated, his fingers flying over the keys reaching a crescendo.
“I never go out in the morning with having something to eat and drink, and besides you’re a cup of your disgusting super strong coffee doesn’t count” Craig said reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a bag of Lady Grey tea. A few minutes later the toast popped up, and Craig spread a thin layer of Floria light and took a bite as left the tea bag to stew. Piece of toast still in his hand he dashed back into the bathroom to gel his hair. The bathroom still damp from his shower he noticed the shaving mirror still steamed up. He wanted to use the towel to wipe the mirror but he noticed the only towel lay in a puddle on the laminate flooring, so he decided just to brush his teeth instead. Martin tried to dislodge a piece of paper that had got caught up in his typewriter, a dangling cigarette in his mouth burning away almost reaching the filter as he heard Craig shout out from the bathroom
“By the way, I heard screaming and shouting coming from your room last; now either your were torturing a woman or you were having one of your night terrors” he heard Craig laughing as he whirled out of his chair and ran into the bathroom white hot seething anger bubbling up inside him. Craig whipped round shock and confusion on his face as Martin roughly grabbed him and slammed him against the bathroom wall.
“Don’t bring that s*** up again, not ever again!” Martin shouted at him, his face turning red, breathing heavily.
“Okay….okay Martin chill out will you, I was only messing around; sorry okay” Craig said looking Martin straight into his eyes, a toothbrush comically protruding out of his mouth.
“Sorry mate, it’s just what happened last night seeing my dead neabour laying there on the floor in a pool of her own blood; really shook me up and I had two really chilling night terrors last night, so can you please do me a favour don’t mention them again, friends again?” Martin said his anger evaporating as he held out his hand; deciding not to mention the initials that were burnt into his dead ex lover body.
“Yeah sure Martin, again I’m very sorry; mates for life yeah” Craig said shaking Martins hand before dashing out of the bathroom. Martin slumped over the sink exasperated hearing the front door close a moment later.
It could have been half an hour that had passed since Craig had left or maybe it was an hour, hearing the front close woke Martin up; still slumped at the sink. Wearily he gingerly pulled himself up and strode into the living room head pounding with a sickly headache. He found Sarah, riffling between the seats of his sofa, completely flustered. He stood watching, she wasn’t aware that her. He had met her three month’s ago while he was still with Angela. In a warped way he did actually think she was almost the spitting image of Angela; just a younger version. Or more accurately he was shagging her daughter.
Even though they had been going out now for three month she already had a key to his flat. Watching her, she still didn’t notice that he was standing right behind her.
He remembered how they met; he was writing an article on college students and the dumping down exams for a national tabloid paper. He had interviewed many students that morning; but one stood out Sarah, eighteen years old, dark brown hair, tall with long smooth tanned legs barely covered; by a very short demin skirt, her breasts not quite covered by her low cut silk white top she was wearing. She constantly flirted with him during the interview; he found her deliciously attractive and her bubbly chatty personality infectious. They had bumped into each in a bar in Manchester that night, the same one he and Angela were drinking at. It had took him at least half an hour to get to the bar from where they sat the place was that crowded. Just when the barman had handed him the drinks he ordered; he span around that fast that he almost knocked Sarah to the floor, knocking the drink out of her hand. Vodka and Redbull splashed up Sarah’s legs as she snapped her head round looking like she was about to jump down the bastards fault, but when she noticed it was him; her body posture and attitude changed. He apologised and went to give her a kiss on the cheek, but he missed and his lips hit hers. They passionately kissed before Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd.
“Come on lets get out of here” she said weaving them through the throng. Like being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste they finally managed to scramble out of the bar’s entrance. They both ran, Martin struggling to catch his breath.
“My….apartment….is…just…” he gulped a snatch of air as his lungs burned “round….the….corner” he said noticing a pert arse under a tight skirt as they ran past a group of women. Sarah pulled him along as they weaved through the streets of Manchester, until finally they came to a parked dark blue BMW convertible.
“I’ve got a better idea” Sarah said rummaging through her handbag before finally bringing out her car keys. “My daddy bought me this car for my eighteenth; get in” she said unlocking the door and jumping in.
“Nice, very nice” Martin said truly impressed climbing into the passenger seat. “But you shouldn’t really drink and drive” he said putting his seat belt on.
“That Vodka and Redbull was going to be my first drink” She said smiling looking deep into his green eyes as she started the engine. As they roared through the streets of Manchester, Martin was thankful of the late warm summer night air. They hit countryside two hours later after they furiously chatted non-stop; winding country roads twisted into the darkness that enveloped trees on either side. The BMW came screeching to a halt down a small dirt track just off the country lane surrounded by tree and tall grass. The smell of burnt petrol filling their nostrils as they both looked deep into each others eyes, Martin running his fingers through her long dark brown hair. Stars shown down on the opened top BMW; every now and then cars sped by. Any one of the drivers that drove passed them might have noticed Sarah’s fingers clawing at Martin’s naked back and hammering buttocks as they romped.
Sarah jumped as she span around clutching a mobile phone noticing Martin behind her; snapping him back to the present.
“Oh my god, you scarred the s*** out of me” she said running hands around his waist “I forgot my mobile; when I was in Ibiza I was lost without it”
“Oh so you missed your mobile more than me” Martin said with a sly smile, kissing her soft warm lips.
“Yeah I missed you; that’s why I came straight over from daddy’s, so we can have a quickie before I go to college” she said running hands down her body and into his jeans.
He started to have a conversation with his mind, the voice in his head was saying: She doesn’t know about her mother yet, if you tell her you probably won’t be having sex for months. There’s always Laura, Martin argued back. However his mind counter argued; Laura’s going travelling in Australia for three months remember. Your right Martin agreed although Laura’s infinitely more hotter; Sarah lets us do stuff that we can only dream about doing to Laura and besides she won’t be around for much longer; I won’t tell Sarah for now. As she started to unbutton his shirt they kissed passionately his tongue entwining with hers. She pulled away and said, a twinkle in her brown baby seal eyes
“So you have missed me then”
“I’ve been aching and pining for you every day” Martin said unbuttoning her bra before starting to lead her into his bedroom.
“No, lets do it here” Sarah said pulling him on top of her as she lay back on the on his soft brown leaver sofa “By the way, did anything happen while I’ve been away” she said kissing his smooth chest.
“No, not really” Martin said flatly with wry smile still fighting with his mind before deciding to definitely not to tell her yet as they passionately kissed again.
Chapter 4
The banners on the wall read Happy Sixteenth Birthday Christian amongst silver and gold Christmas decorations. A large Christmas tree oozing warm traditional seasonal values; sat pride and place in the corner of the living room with pine needles scattered around it. Amongst the usual plastic bells, bows and pine cones dangled candy canes and chocolates in the shape of Santa’s, snowmen and Christmas trees. Presents in peculiar shapes and creative wrapping surrounded the tree.
Smoke from the candles wafted towards the ceiling as Christian made a wish.
“What did you wish for Christian?” Peter asked with a curious smile, but Christine put her hand on his lips and said
“No, don’t tell him, if you tell then your wish won’t come true” the twinkle in Christian’s eyes soon faded however.
“I wished that the kids in my class would stop picking on me; they keep calling me names blaming me for happened to Jake” Christian said. Peter put his hand on his son’s arm and asked softly
“What kind of names do they call you Christian?”
“They keep calling me a psycho; chanting that I killed Jake and that you’re a bent cop for covering it all up by setting fire to the barn” Peter looked hard into Christian tearful eyes and said
“Listen to me Christian, what you did was very brave, you rescued Stephen and saved his life, and both me and your mother are very proud of you; never forget that!” Christine gave him a long hug and kissed him on his cheek
“It’s been six months since the accident and Stephen still won’t talk to me” Christian said.
“Stephen will come around in time, you’ll see; I’m sure you will both be best friends again in time” Christine said tenderly.
“Now, go and get dressed in your smart cloths” she put emphasise on the word smart “Your friends and Angela will be arriving in an hour for your birthday party”
The door bell rang as Christian just finished throwing on his silk cream shirt. He could hear muffled voices as he started to gel his wavy sandy coloured hair, he gelled for two reasons, first strands of his hair constantly kept getting into his eyes, and the other was more for vanity.
Angela Gray stood in the hallway with her fury hooded Parka covered in snow.
“You look frozen Angela” Christine said as they walked into the living room, trying not to notice the bruises on her face “how come you didn’t take the car?”
“Richard’s stop me from using it, he blew up when I had a tiny crash the other week” Angela said as Peter walked in with some eggnog for her.
“His he still heavily drinking” Peter gently asked passing her the glass of the creamy coloured liquid, Christine igniting their real coal fire. Angela looked away ashamed. For the first three months after the fire; neither family spoke until Angela ever the peace maker made contact in tears one drunken night and after that the three of them started to speak again.
Since then relations between the three started to thaw, Angela keeping her visits a secret from her husband. Richard blamed Christine for Jakes death even though he saved Stephens life. A week before the court hearing, he bumped into Peter in the local pub, a blazing row had sparked up between them; Richard punched Peter in the face sending him flying over a table. Peter arrested him and threw him in a Police cell over night to cool off. He let him go the next day without charge hoping it would be the end of the matter, but by the look on Angela’s face and the bruises things had got a lot worse. Richard’s bitter anger had also spread to Stephen when one night he had pelted their windows with eggs.
Christian jumped down the last few steps of the stairs as Peter and Christian started to zip up their matching heavy duty winter coats.
“Thanks once again for supervising the party tonight Angela, I should be back by eleven at the latest. Christine said as Christian walked into the room. She still felt guilty about leaving Christian on his Sixteenth birthday but the editor of Woman’s weekly called an emergency meeting.
“It’s fine, I love being here well when you told me that Peter’s also working a late shift tonight at the Police I couldn’t exactly leave Christian here on his own on his Sixteenth birthday now could I”
“Well we owe you a drink” Christine said giving Angela a hug before her and Peter walked into the porch putting on their shoes. Angela walked up to Christian bent down and kissed him on the lips.
“Happy Sixteenth Birthday Christian, I’ve a got a present for you, but I’ll give it to you later” She said with a smile, her warm lips lingering on his perhaps a little too long.
“Hey like your hair, suits you” She said running her hands through spiky gelled hair
The front door closed as she slowly unzipped her Parka, revealing her ample bosom almost bursting out of her low cut long black silk dress.
Music thumped out of the state of the art stereo system as both Angela and Christian sat on the soft brown leather sofa waiting for his friends to show. An hour had passed but none of his so called friends had shown. She spotted the drinks cabinet.
“Hey lets crack open the booze” She said with sly smile.
Snow fell outside as the coal fire blazed away. Christian circled his glass of Martini and lemonade deep as he sat on the sofa watching the Christmas lights twinkling away. The toilet flushed and a moment later Angela walked into the room, a bit tipsy as she staggered over to the Stereo to put on another CD.
“Look its okay you can go. It’s pretty obvious that all my friends hate me and I don’t need a nanny you know” He said looking up at her, his eyes glazed over as his heart felt like lead. Soft music spread across the room like invisible silk.
“Stephen just needs to realise; how much of a good guy you really are, and he will, he really will in time” She said putting her arm around him. Biting his lip he fought the urge to cry as he felt a lump in his throat; his breath almost becoming a whisper.
“But It’s such a mess; look something else happened that night something that I’m not proud of, something that if….” he hiccupped cutting himself off as Martini splashed over his parents laminate flooring.
“Oh s***” he said running off to the kitchen to get a cloth. He finished wiping the floor and found himself looking up at Angela sitting on the sofa. She found her eyes immersing deeper and deeper into his; looking deep into to his soul.
“Look, you saved my sons life and for that I thank you with all my heart” She said leaning forward, the space between their lips closing fast until she could almost feel his breath on her face.
“Not all people hate you, I certainly don’t. I know what you did. In fact when your mum asked me to come over tonight I jumped at the chance, and do you want to know why”
“I already know” he said as their lips touched. He pulled her off the sofa and they seemed to melt into one another on soft grey and white rug. Christian struggled with the urge to get some air as they passionately kissed their lips revolving around each others. They broke away as they felt the fire almost melting their face.
“It doesn’t bother you then that I’m with Richard” she said running her hands through his hair.
“The guy’s a dickhead, he should be proud that he’s got you as a wife”
“Thanks, Happy Christmas Christian” Angela said pulling him up and leading him to the hall. They laughed and giggled all the way up the stairs, they got to Christian’s bedroom when he stopped and looked at her.
“Hey you mentioned my birthday present earlier” She didn’t say a word as she kissed him , a wry smile cracking her face as they walked into his room and closed the door. If anyone had been stood outside his room they might have heard him say.
“Oh, so that’s my birthday present!”
The front door closed and Christine walked into the hall, her eyes tired. When she had dreamt all those years ago of becoming a writer, she hadn’t realised all the hard work and the complexity of being a writer. She rubbed her eyes as she walked into the kitchen kicking of her high heal shoes. Flicking on the kettle she pulled out a bag of herbal tea. She then put two rounds of thick whole meal slices of bread into the toaster. She poured boiling water into a china cup with swirling Chinese patterns and started to dunk the bag as she heard giggling coming from upstairs. Curious she walked towards the hall to investigate. She started to walk up the stairs as the giggling stopped. She opened the door to Christian’s bedroom and found Angela and her son on his bed, flustered and breathing heavily.
Windscreen wipers screeched as snow built up on the Audi 2.8 Quattro windscreen as it sped down the high street. Richard’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes glazed over and bloodshot. He struggled to keep the four door saloon under control as the wheels kept on skidding on the snow covered road. The smell of booze in the car from Richard’s breath could have, stun an Ox. His eyes seemed to be fixated on the road, but his mind was else where. Angela had slipped out too many times before; this time he thought he will put his foot down, literally if he had too.
He had become so convinced that she was playing away; that images of her having sex with his ex best friend Peter flashed through his mind. The more he thought about her in different positions with him, her moaning and groaning as he worked himself up into a sweat the more eat up he got and the more pissed off he got. Right now his teeth that clenched that only a crow bar could open them. It wasn’t the first time that she cheated on him and he broke her jaw the last time. Even when they had met, she had cheated on her then boyfriend with him. At first one of the many things he had loved about her was the fact that she was so dirty and had a libido to power America. They had met twenty years ago in college; they had both been studying Maths. Friends at first, they found that they each had a strong passion for mathematics, music and the arts. Many nights after college had finished they’d go to the pub round the corner; chatting non-stop until closing time, then carrying on drinking tequila slammers at her boyfriends flat. It wasn’t until her boyfriend started to work nights that they started to grow closer and closer, until one night Angela and her boyfriend had a huge row and he stormed out leaving her in tears. She had asked him over, and poured her heart out to him over a bottle of vodka. They a shared a passionate kiss, throwing themselves into it for hours into their jaws ached. They ended up having sex through out that night on the sofa and in her boyfriend’s bed. For good few months afterwards they carried as if nothing had happened, he believing that that one night had been a; revenge shag. But when he started dating her best friend, Angela got jealous and upset over his relationship with her. The night she dumped her boyfriend, they ending up having a massive argument in their local pub and they both screamed out, their love for one another. Soon after he split up with her best friend and that was the start of his and Angela’s rollercoaster of a relationship, almost nine months later however Angela’s best friend walked back into his life with his child, Jake; and they split up soon after. They met again twelve months later a students new years eve party deciding to give their relationship another go if even though Angela now had a two month old baby; Stephen.
Christine walked further into Christian’s room; Angela and Christian both whipped their heads round. A computer fighting game paused on the telly.
“Hey, what happened to your party” she said with a warm smile. Angela placed a hand on Christian’s shoulder.
“No one showed so we cracked open a bottle Martini and Christian decided to tan my arse on this stupid thing” Angela said gesturing towards the games console, with her other hand, a computer controller resting on her lap “I hope you don’t mind; letting him have a drink”
“No, no it’s fine; he’s had a drink with me and his father before now, I believe that I’d rather he drink in the safety of this house rather then on the streets”
“Well, my fingers are absolutely arching now” Angela said shaking her hand “we’ve been button bashing for hours; but I’ve got to admit your son certainly knows, how to press all the right buttons!” she said winking at Christian with a twinkle in her eyes.
Peter was just putting his key into his front door lock, as the silver Audi sliced through the snow and came skidding to halt outside his house. Peter groaned when he noticed who it was. Richard stepped out his face like thunder, and staggered up the driveway.
“Where is she hey, not content shagging your own wife, you have to start having mine; don’t you” Richard spat, pointing a finger right in Peter’s face
“Well it’s not on, it’s not f***ing on!” Richard said swaying. Peter sighed, he didn’t need this; he had a long night with gangs of lads in fights, drunks throwing up and being aggressive, all he wanted right now was to be with his loving wife and son.
“Go home Richard, your pissed and making a fool of yourself, go home before I do something I’ll regret” Peter said wearily rubbing his tired eyes.
“Do what hey Peter, nick me like you did last time so you can go on shagging my wife; well I like to see you try” Richard said taking a swing at Peter. His reflexes razor sharp Peter ducked grabbed Richard’s arm and twisted behind his back; he then roughly bumbled him down the driveway opened the door to Richard’s car and shoved him roughly inside before shouting
“Stay away from me and my family or I’ll do more then arrest you next time!” Richard started his car but driving off he shouted back
“You know what Peter; your wife certainly didn’t spit when she was in Mexico with me!” Richard laughed before he smashed his foot down on the accerator, and his car roared back up the road.
The sound of crying awoke Christian from a dreamless sleep. Curious he threw on a pair of boxers and went to investigate. The sobbing came from the spare room. He opened the door and switched on the light, Angela was sat on the bed in just her bra and black silky knickers, she looked up at him, her mascara had run that much that her eyes resembled those of a panda. She didn’t say anything as she buried her head into his chest.
Chapter Five
Martin ran his fingers through his ruffled hair as he read the last paragraph he had just written. Thoughts bolted though his mind; did Angela seduce Christian? Knowing that he fancied her, letting him toy with her or did Christian really seduce Angela; playing with her emotions knowing that she burned for him and what she believed him to be a good guy who saved her son. But even this Martin knew was a bit misleading as he believed Angela chose to ignore her own instincts that something else happened in the barn on that fateful night and that Christian was involved. He closed his eyes an unlit cigarette in his mouth; a distant ringing sound interrupted his mind plunging further into the relationship between Angela and Christian. As he scrambled for his phone; he already knew who was ringing, Sarah phoning to remind him of having dinner to tonight.
Piano music played in the background of the Italian bar/restaurant Martin and Sarah sat in. Sarah hummed quietly to herself as she read the menu considering what to have. Martin lit a cigarette as he mused, the restaurant was that exclusiv