EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-ONE
Donny stared at his ex-foster
mother, a helpless look in his eyes, as if to say: “What have I done?” His gaze
fell to the toddler’s wooden cricket bat in his hand, curiosity clouding his
eyes like a gauze, wondering how it had got there.
Mike groaned. Although it had been a hefty blow to the side of his head, the
stun was temporary and he became aware of the musty, stale smell of the carpet
as he took a deep breath of recovery. Another sharp pain shot through his
brain, and hot and cold blades sliced into his spine.
Recovering slightly, Penny’s voice was tremulous as she fought back tears and
confronted Donny. ‘Oh my giddy aunt! What have you done, Donny?’
Mike, on hearing her exclamation, thought he was stuck in a time warp
television series. Incongruously, it reminded him of Life On Mars and he thought he could hear echoes of David Bowie
singing it.
‘I had to hit him,’ Donny explained. ‘He’d have found out about me.’
‘He’s my hairdresser, Donny.’
‘I know that. D’you think I’m stupid or something?’
‘He always gives me a nice cut. Very talented man he is.’
Donny stared at Penny and his eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care about that. I can’t
let them find out about me.’
Penny’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to have to finish him off.’
‘No!’ Penny screamed. ‘You can’t!’
‘Shut up! Keep your voice down!’
Mike, on hearing this, tried to move but it felt as if he was nailed to the
floor. Vulnerable and unable to protect himself, he knew he hadn’t got long to
live. Perhaps his end was only seconds away. He wanted to protest, beg for his
life, tell Donny he would keep quiet if only he would let him live.
But his fate was being decided too quickly. He needed more time. Just a bit
more time.
*
As Nigel drove carefully through Rusthall, Vanessa sniffed and said, ‘I came
here for a drink once. Hated it.’
Nigel wanted to say “Beggars can’t be choosers.” Instead he chuckled lightly
and said, ‘Nothing wrong with Rusthall. I almost bought a house here once,
instead of Crowborough.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Oh, there was a long chain. You know what it’s like when you buy a house. But
I suppose you don’t know, do you?’
Vanessa was aware that this was some sort of criticism. She sighed deeply, for
the umpteenth time on the short journey from Crowborough via Groombridge. She
was hoping it would irritate Nigel. But because he would soon be rid of her, he
was annoyingly cheerful, almost as if he was deliberately trying to goad her.
‘Shame Mummy couldn’t come with us to see this flat.’
Nigel tried to suppress a smile. ‘Well, we both thought it best that she gets
the dinner on, so we can go back and gorge ourselves.’
His thoughts dwelt on the clever way he had manipulated Jackie, telling her
Vanessa would probably be upset until she got used to the idea of moving, and
would be in need of a pleasant family dinner, seeing as Nicky and her boyfriend
would also be joining them. This way Nigel knew that the women couldn’t gang up
on him and make him change his mind about the flat once they saw it. The
exterior of the building was scruffy – well, hugely in need of a makeover – but
the flats inside were adequate.
‘So where is this flat?’ Vanessa demanded as they past the Lower Green
crossroads.
‘Nearly there.’
Nigel swung the car into a driveway and Vanessa gasped.
The garden at the front was untended; grass almost a foot in height and great
tufts sprouted from the lower walls of the building. The building itself was
imposing, Victorian, and may have been impressive many years ago. But after a
decade or two of neglect, the windows were in a shocking state and paint and
plaster on the walls was scuffed and peeling, and littered the driveway and
garden.
Vanessa gasped again, and fought back tears of rage. ‘This is dreadful!
Ghastly!’
Nigel parked the car in the car park at the back, turned towards Vanessa and
gave her his most sincere salesman’s gaze, the expression that showed the true
spirit of a deeply religious person who has never harboured a sinful thought.
‘The flat inside is magnificent. Truly magnificent. Plenty of space and those
wonderful high Victorian ceilings. You’ll love it, and once we get you some
furniture, you’ll be in seventh heaven. I promise you.’
Vanessa pulled a sour face. ‘Probably cost a fortune to heat in the winter.’
At that moment, Nigel felt a strong desire to throttle Vanessa. Restraining
himself, he coughed loudly and threw open the car door.
‘Everyone’ll be in the same boat this year,’ he said.
*
Mike felt something brush against his body. It felt like someone’s foot. There
was a scuffling sound, and he felt more pressure against him. Then a panting
sound and wheezing, before he heard Penny yelling.
‘I can’t let you do it, Donny. Who’s going to cut my hair?’
‘Bugger your hair!’
‘I won’t let you.’
Mike heard thuds, and the crash of a piece of furniture.. He turned his head,
raising it from the floor. He saw Donny struggling with Penny, and trying to
raise the hand with the child’s cricket bat, while she tried to force him back
against the wall.
Mike realised Penny was no match for the imbecile rapist, and would soon be
overpowered by him. Summoning up all his strength, Mike quickly got up off the
floor, quickly took his bearings and lurched across to the front door. He heard
Donny shouting after him.
‘Stop him! You stupid cow! He’s getting away!’
Mike ran into the street, slamming the door behind him, just in case Donny came
charging after him. He ran down the street into middle of Rusthall High Street,
and flagged down the first car he saw. It screeched to a halt and tooted. He
ran to the driver’s side and gestured frantically for the driver to wind down
the window. It was Nigel, having seen the flat with Vanessa, and now on his way
back to Crowborough. On seeing the frantic hairdresser, Vanessa shrank back
into her seat.
Cautiously, because when all was said and done, he was a Christian and he could
see Mike was distressed, Nigel let the window down.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I need a policeman. Someone tried to kill me. The Rusthall Rapist.’
‘I can phone for one on my mobile if you like.’
Relief swept across Mike like a warm water, and he was glad to be somewhere so public.
People waiting for a bus outside One-Stop were watching the scene with
interest. He suddenly began laughing.
‘Of course, silly me!’ he proclaimed. ‘You only get Community Wardens these
days. And even then, they don’t work on a Sunday!’
IN EPISODE 172
A horrendous Sunday dinner at Nigel and Jackie’s house.