The 13th Destiny_Heaven's Deadliest Sign

by Roger David Francis

  Thank goodness her son was asleep, nothing woke him up from his slumber and for that Beth was grateful, he could sleep for England and then some. She envied him, she felt as if she hadn’t slept for years. She thought of the sounds she’d heard on the phone in the background when Shandra had been speaking to her, had the woman actually been watching a television programme and decided to phone her in the middle of it just for the hell of it?

  Beth frowned, annoyed with herself for not being more forceful. She should have used plainer language; maybe if she’d told her to sod off it would have done the trick, now it looked like she was stuck with honouring the deal. She hadn’t given Shandra her phone number, the cunning old witch must have dialled 1471. She wished she’d blocked it before calling her but it was too late now, apparently the deal was done. Was Shandra going to become a phone pest? She could always change her number but surely it wouldn’t come to that? Where on earth did the woman live if her code didn’t show up on Google; Outer Hebrides? A converted Cornish tin mine?

  She glanced at the clock above the fireplace, ten minutes past seven, still too early to phone Abby. The conversation with the old woman had left a nasty taste in her mouth, it had almost sounded like Shandra was threatening her, not so much her words but the tone of her voice. What had started out as a bit of fun was now turning into something that felt plain wrong. Beth rubbed her eyes.

  She was being paranoid; it wasn’t as if anything bad had happened so why did she have the gnawing sensation of panic rumbling in her stomach? The best scenario was that everyone who contacted Shandra got what they wanted, the worst was they all lost their twenty pounds, either way in the grand scheme of things there was no harm done.

  After Beth had left Fiona had sat staring at the piece of paper for a long time. She’d dreamt of this moment, when someone would come along and wave a magic wand and her husband would be gone from her life. The scenario had occupied her thoughts for years, even before Liam was born. She actually hated her husband. He was a bully and control freak and he made her life so miserable she sometimes wondered whether she’d be better off ending it.

  He hadn’t always been such a pig. When she’d first met him in her local pub he’d been quite presentable. He’d opened with a joke about his roving eye and she’d admired him for putting it out there so quickly, acknowledging something unusual about himself. It hadn’t bothered her and when he’d asked her out on a date she’d been more than willing. He’d treated her well and they’d married a month after she’d found she was pregnant.

  Within weeks he changed, became the bullying, mean spirited man he still was, almost growing into a selfish monster overnight. Fiona thought it fitted him like a second skin. It had always been there inside him and her subservience had allowed it to flourish. She wasn’t even twenty one years old and had become a skivvy.

  Divorce was out of the question, she had nowhere to go. Rod would keep the house which was in his name and she’d be left with nothing, he’d make sure of it. Her only hope lay in him dropping dead of a heart attack caused by his drinking and smoking. She could see him now in the back garden. His shirt was off and he was sweating, the rolls of fat hanging over his trousers looked like gobs of lard. Every now and then he would look up and glance at the kitchen window as if he was trying to catch her out spying on him.

  He always thought she spied on him, accusing her constantly of snooping through his things, even suggesting she went into his computer to see what he got up to.

  She didn’t need to do that, she knew what he was up to. Crawling around dating sites, secretly meeting women, telling them he was single so he could spend the night with them. Dirty one night stands he thought she didn’t know about, his pathetic excuses about working late making her sick with hatred.

  He was ugly inside and out, so what did these woman see in him? Maybe he was different when he wasn’t with her, she knew he could be convivial, especially when he was with his drinking mates. Good old Rod, life and soul of the party. Spending money he’d stolen from the housekeeping to buy women’s favours. It was all about sex.

  Fiona had thought she would do anything to get rid of Rod but now, clutching the piece of paper with the phone number on she hesitated. It meant telling someone else her secret. What if Shandra wasn’t a stranger at all but a friend of Beth’s and they’d set the scam up between them? Her neighbour would know then that Fiona wanted her husband dead. What proof did she have the scratch card was real?

  Rod was shouting something. Fiona opened the side window.

  “What’s the matter with you, going deaf? I said bring me a bottle.”

  In the fridge was a row of bottles of beer. Fiona imagined carrying one out to him and just as he reached for it lifting it high in the air and smashing it down on his ugly face.

  She hurried out of the door and handed it to him. He wiped the sweat off his brow.

  “What are you up to then?” he asked.

  It was a standard question which he asked several times a day. At first she’d thought he really wanted to know until she realised it was just another way of keeping her under control. “Not much,” she replied placidly, “just having a cup of tea.”

  “What did that bird from up the road want?” His eyes gleamed.

  Liked her, did you? thought Fiona. Of course you did, she’s pretty and sexy, not a harridan, old before her time like me. I bet you were wondering what she’d be like in bed. Suddenly from somewhere deep inside her she giggled silently. If Rod knew she was about to wish him dead she didn’t think he’d be quite so amiable. A moment of clarity shuddered through her and she realised that the man standing in front of her didn’t know her at all. He was staring at her now, waiting for an answer.

  “Nothing really,” she mumbled vaguely.

  Rod gulped down half a bottle of the beer in one swallow. Fiona watched his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. I wish it would choke you, she thought, but I know it won’t because nothing touches you, does it? For some reason known only to God you’re one of the lucky people who bully their way through life avoiding the pitfalls, coming up smelling of roses every time. And you don’t even know, do you? You just take your good fortune for granted as if luck was something you’re entitled to by birthright. Not like me, I got the unlucky gene, Fiona thought bitterly.

  He was glaring at her with an expression of contempt. She smiled weakly.

  “Well, don’t hang around,” he growled. “you’ve got the ironing to do, haven’t you?” He actually smacked her bottom as she walked off.

  Fiona went back into the kitchen. In her mind she could see the hot iron descending on Rods head, his pink scalp sizzling, his eyes bulging with pain and terror. But even better than that, the dawning knowledge that his luck was about to finally run out.

  She dialled Shandra’s number.

  “Hello?”

  Oh, God, it was some old woman. Maybe it was Beth’s grandmother. “Beth gave me your number,” she said.

  “Just a couple of questions, my dear,” the crackly old voice said briskly. “Your full maiden name and your birth date.”

  “Fiona Jane Turpin, September 8th.”

  “How lovely, my dear, a Virgo. I expect it’s money you want, Virgo’s are very materialistic. Now, let me see. Oh dear, you’re quite the little mouse, aren’t you? Scurrying around unaware what’s going on. You think you know your husband but you haven’t got a clue. He’s gambling, taking drugs and cheating on you.” Shandra made a wet chuckling noise, “And he’s doing it right under your sad twitching little nose.”

  Fiona gasped. How on earth could the old woman know that? Had Liam been telling tales to Jason? And why was she talking to her in that horrible raspy voice?

  Shandra went on. “Rod’s arranging to meet his fancy woman tonight. If you look out of the window you’ll see he’s phoning her now as we speak.”

  Fiona stood up shakily and went over to the open window. A hot crawling sensation was working its way around her lower stomach. Rod
was standing in the middle of the garden his head bent as he whispered into the phone. Trembling, Fiona sat down.

  “How could you know that?” her voice came out raw with disbelief. “Who told you my husband’s name?” Did Shandra live in one of the flats that overlooked her back garden? Was she right now sitting with her binoculars pressed up against the window looking down into her property? It was the only explanation. Fiona shivered. She couldn’t bring herself to put the phone down but she wanted the conversation to be over.

  “I know everything. So what is your wish, my dear?”

  “I want him to disappear, to be gone forever.” The words rushed out.

  Fiona sat with the phone pressed up to her ear but there was only silence.

  “Hello? Did you hear what I said?”

  She lowered the phone down and stared at it. It was almost as if the woman had known what she was thinking and a part of her was angry. She felt insulted, the remark about her being like a little mouse hurt because that’s how she felt. Like a creature trapped waiting for a big foot to stamp down and crush the life out of her. Even so, she was a customer, she’d paid twenty pounds, she deserved some respect.

  Maybe they’d been cut off and she should call her again. What if the old woman hadn’t heard her? Fiona rang the number for the second time but it kept on ringing out and there was no answer.

  Twenty pounds, she thought bitterly, to be told what I already know. She looked at the pile of ironing waiting to be done and wondered if she could buy some itching powder and sprinkle it in Rod’s underwear. It wouldn’t be life threatening but it would give her some satisfaction.

  It was Sunday morning and Jason had lain awake listening to his mother moving about downstairs. His head throbbed with a painful headache, he didn’t think he was still hungover, that would be too cruel, he’d suffered enough yesterday, but the effects of the alcohol was probably still in his system even after forty eight hours.

  He knew it served him right but it didn’t stop him feeling sorry for himself. His nocturnal flight to get rid of the evidence of his drinking binge seemed like a long time ago. Maybe in fifty years time he would laugh about it to his grandchildren but right now he just wanted to blot it from his mind. Getting through the day, keeping his head down had seemed like only thing he could do.

  Liam had been a bit of a pest wanting to stay over last night. He’d come crawling round to his house about four o’clock in the morning, shamefaced because he couldn’t bear spending another moment in the cold tent. Jason had dreaded his friend would be hiding another bottle of alcohol but Liam was too tired and miserable than do anything other than throw himself on the bedroom floor, curl up in a ball and sleep off his nocturnal adventure.

  Glancing at the alarm clock Jason saw that it was only six thirty, what was his mum doing getting up so early? Something odd was going on. He’d never considered himself particularly sensitive, he was one of life’s blunderers, so engrossed in his own life and problems he didn’t pick up on an atmosphere in a room, never caught the underlying tension of an argument. Things seemed to happen around him and unless he was told about it he simply assumed everything was okay.

  Now though, he was picking up strange vibes. His mum wore a hunted look on her face; she kept glancing sideways as if she was expecting someone to jump out at her. She seemed to flinch every time the phone bleeped or the doorbell rang. Jason was worried she’d got mixed up in something. Maybe she was gambling and was living in fear of debt collectors coming to the house.

  He groaned and rolled over staring up at the ceiling. It didn’t help that her only son was boozing behind her back, sicking up all over himself and creeping around the back yard in the middle of the night. Still, he comforted himself, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He wondered if he should tell her about the strange message that had been pushed through the door and decided against it. She might wonder what he was doing standing by the front door at three o’clock in the morning.

  Next time Liam found a bottle of his dad’s whisky Jason thought he’d pretend to drink it. Fortunately Liam’s bladder went into overdrive when he was drinking so he paid several visits to the toilet. If Jason kept a pot plant by his bedside he could empty his glass of whisky into it. He was relieved to have found a solution to his problem.

  Closing his eyes he’d thought he might finally get back to sleep. He was warm and comfortable but then the ringing had started in his ears and wouldn’t stop. He’d pushed himself upright, startled. The ringing was coming from the phone downstairs. The clock said it was a quarter to seven and for some reason that had frightened him.

  He’d slipped out of bed, opened the door and stood shivering on the landing, listening as his mum answered the phone.

  Beth opened a notebook and reluctantly began making a list of names of people she could pass Shandra’s number onto. She usually loved this quiet time all to herself on Sunday morning, now she felt agitated and jittery.

  There was a timid knock on the front door and peering out of the front window Beth could see Fiona standing hunched up, her arm raised, ready to knock again. She’d changed her mind, wanted her money back and that was okay except Fiona’s mouth was open as if she’d been running and she appeared skittish, her eyelids blinking too rapidly. Her heart lurching Beth opened the door.

  “Can I come in?” Fiona’s pinched white face was frightening and Beth stood aside.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Beth asked as Fiona followed her into the kitchen.

  “No, I haven’t come to your house for coffee.” Fiona told her sitting at the table.

  So she had come for her money back, Beth thought, she could deal with that, no problem.

  “It’s Liam, he’s missing.”

  This was so unexpected that Beth could only stare at her. “You mean he’s run away?”

  “No, no, he’s....disappeared.” She gave a small dry sob, “I didn’t know your number or I would have phoned. I’m asking all his friends if they’ve seen him.” She looked around, “I thought he might have got fed up camping in the garden on his own and come to your house. Is he with Jason?” She looked hopefully at Beth.

  “No,” Beth hesitated, “At least I don’t think so, I’ll go and check.” She left the kitchen and went up the stairs suddenly wondering if she’d find Liam kipping on the floor of Jason’s bedroom, her son having forgotten to tell her, assuming as he usually did that she was physic and should have known.

  Jason was sprawled out in an untidy heap tangled in his bedclothes, his mouth half open, sleeping like only a teenager can. There was no sign of Liam. She turned and bumped into Fiona.

  “He’s not here,” she said unnecessarily.

  All of a sudden Fiona clutched Beth’s sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “I think it’s my fault,” she gasped.

  Beth led her downstairs back to the kitchen and put a mug of coffee in front of her. “How can it be your fault? We both know what teenage boys are like, he’s probably at another friend’ house.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Fiona wiped her eyes and took a sip of coffee. “I asked Shandra to get rid of him for me.” She whispered.

  Beth was amazed. “You asked Shandra to get rid of your son?”

  “No, not my son, him, Rod. Only...” She took a deep breath, “I can’t remember what I said, something like, I want you to get rid of him for me, I never want to see him again. I was so nervous, I could hardly get the words out. God, Beth, what have I done?” Thick heavy tears fell from her eyes.

  “So where’s Rod now?”

  “Still in bed, he doesn’t know Liam is missing. He’ll be getting up soon and he’ll be angry, he’ll blame me, he always does when anything goes wrong.” She looked at Beth with misty accusing eyes, “Jason let Liam down. When he cancelled on him Liam was upset, said he’d camp by himself but he wasn’t in the tent when I went to look this morning. It was too neat and tidy; he hadn’t been in there all night. You’re the first person I’ve told.
I don’t know what to do.”

  Beth patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t want to be silly, but have you checked that Liam isn’t in his room?”

  “Of course I have, it was the first thing I did. Do you think I should phone the police?”

  “Surely not. I mean, technically he’s not even missing yet, is he? He may have gone for an early morning walk.” Beth hesitated, “I think you’re worrying for nothing. That phone call you made to Shandra, forget it, it was just meant as a bit of fun, put it out of your mind.”

  “I wish I could. You got your five hundred pounds you asked for, it worked for you.”

  “If you’re that desperate to get rid of Rod why not divorce him?”

  “He’d kick me out of the house, it belongs to him, I have nowhere else to go.” She shook her head as if it was of no importance.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What for? It’s not your fault.” Fiona scraped back her chair. “Maybe Liam will be back by now and I’ve been worrying for nothing,” she said.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.”

  Beth watched Fiona leave, her shoulders stooped, her head held down against the wind.

  It was a few minutes to eight o’clock. Beth had the uncomfortable feeling she would be watching the time carefully over the next few days.

  Chapter 4

  With her finger poised over the number Abby couldn’t bring herself to make the phone call. Eight o’clock Sunday morning, her friend Beth would still be asleep. She needed advice, something strange was going on and she didn’t know what to do.

  She’d caused the problem, she knew making the phone call to Shandra had been a mistake, she’d realised as soon as the voice on the end of the phone had whispered, “You must find your mother-in-laws last will and testimony. It’s hidden behind the bookcase in her bedroom. Destroy it, my dear because she has left everything, including her house to the cat’s home.”