The 13th Destiny_Heaven's Deadliest Sign

by Roger David Francis

  “Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that,” Abby had felt tears spring to her eyes. “She loves Joe.”

  “But she hates you.” The spiteful voice continued. “The dead are experts at creating misery for the living. And there is more you should know.” Her voice dropped to a tiny whisper that frightened Abby more than if she was shouting. “Find out what Joe is hiding in his suitcase.” The woman gave a dry chuckle and said, “Now, tell me what you want most in the world my dear, and it will be yours.” Abby knew she should have slammed the phone down right away but she hadn’t, instead she’d whispered back, “My own home without my mother-in-law living with us.”

  At first she’d thought the woman had put the phone down on her then she’d heard what sounded like paper crinkling and Shandra’s heavy breathing. A couple of minutes later the crackly voice had come back on the phone. “It’s done,” the whisper had hissed down the line and then the phone had gone dead before Abby could reply.

  She’d had sat for a few moments in Beth’s cosy living room wondering why her heart was racing. The old woman hadn’t been aggressive, a bit abrupt maybe but Abby couldn’t shake off the feeling that she’d made a big mistake phoning her. It was all right Beth telling her it was a bit of fun, but fun didn’t make your throat close up and your stomach muscles twist into a knot.

  After leaving Beth’s house she’d gone to the supermarket, stocked up a basket of items and was mortified when she got to the checkout to realise she’d given Beth her last twenty pounds and had no money to pay for her groceries. How could she have been so stupid? She liked Beth, they’d become good friends but she couldn’t stop the tug of resentment towards her. She felt as if she’d been conned, caught up in one of those pathetic chain mail scams where everyone sent a small amount of money to so many people on a list and apparently got loads back. She’d actually tried it once, sent her money out to ten people and never received anything back.

  She’d never considered herself a lucky person, knew she was pessimistic in her outlook, one of the reasons she found herself saying ‘No problem’ several times a day. She supposed if she chanted it often enough she’d believe it. The truth was everything in her life was a problem, apart from her lovely husband, Joe. Even in her darkest moment Abby knew Joe was the luckiest thing to happen to her. But he came with baggage, a nasty nuisance called Vera who made her life a misery.

  So Beth had had a lucky win on a scratch card, good for her. Her friend believed it had all been down to an old physic woman, Shandra, who’d apparently made it happen and like a fool she’d gone along with it, parting with her last twenty pounds and embarrassing herself in the supermarket. She’d even been tempted to buy a lottery ticket in case that was the way she would achieve her dream. Fortunately she couldn’t afford it and instead made her way home feeling foolish.

  Vera was in the best armchair as usual, four cushions propping her upright, her feet crossed over on a footstool.

  “You’ve been a long time,” she complained to Abby. “Did you remember to get my cotton buds?”

  “I didn’t, I’m sorry. No problem though, I’ll pop out later and get them.” She smiled.

  “Joe phoned to say he’d be late back, more overtime. He works too hard at that haulage company, you know that don’t you? Struggling to pay for that holiday you want.” Vera sniffed. “He was surprised when I told him you’d left me alone, wondering where you were, he was.” She watched Abby with bright inquisitive eyes.

  You mean you were, Abby thought. You’re always wondering where I am, what I’m doing. The holiday had been Joe’s idea, a week away in a small hotel in Blackpool. She’d been delighted until she realised Vera had overheard the conversation. Her mother-in-law had spent the last few weeks having little digs at her, accusing her of taking advantage of Joe. The real reason Abby suspected was that it didn’t suit Vera; it meant she’d have to look after herself.

  I think I hate her, Abby thought, surprised it had taken her so long to admit it to herself. The smile remained on her face. “So what would you like for tea?”

  “Whatever you can scrape together; A pork chop, mashed potatoes and garden peas.” Vera patted her stomach. “You know I’m not fussy. “I’ll have strawberry cheesecake for afters, you’ll need to defrost it. And don’t take too long, I’m hungry.”

  Of course you are, hungry, hard done by, miserable, you’re all those things and more, why can’t you be happy just for once? “No problem,” she said.

  Vera made a small grunting sound. “You always say that. One day, my girl you’ll find out that you do have a problem and what will you do then?”

  “I’ll sort it out.” Abby smiled brightly and thought, like I’d sort you out if I could.

  The kitchen was small, big enough for one person to cook and wash up in so it was probably a good thing Vera didn’t ever enter it. This was Abby’s own little space where she could escape from her mean minded mother-in-law, hide away with a big mug of coffee and her secret e-cig happy in the knowledge that Joe’s mother wouldn’t come barging in. The kitchen frightened the old bag, it meant work and even putting the kettle on was beyond her.

  Arthritis, so what? Millions of people suffered from arthritis, they didn’t all sit around expecting to be waited on hand and foot. Abby sighed as she began peeling the potatoes. She loved this house but it wasn’t hers and according to her mother-in-law never would be. Had the spiteful old bat really made a will leaving everything to the cat’s home even though she disliked the furry blighters? Probably, she was hateful enough.

  After eating her dinner Vera usually dropped off to sleep for about thirty minutes, long enough, Abby thought, for her to check behind Vera’s bookcase. She didn’t believe for a moment she’d find her mother-in-law’s Will there but how did Shandra know Vera even had a bookcase in her bedroom? Was it just a lucky guess or had Beth had told her? Abby shook her head as she continued to peel the potatoes. No, that was just plain silly; Beth had never been in Vera’s bedroom, she was getting paranoid.

  Joe was due home soon and she felt some of the tension drain away from her. He had that effect; he could make anything seem all right. He was the reason she put up with Vera, she couldn’t imagine her life without him and if that meant sucking up to his mother then so be it. He knew she wanted her own home but he pointed out reasonably that his mother needed them to take care of her now she’d become infirm. Abby suspected Vera would outlive her, the thought was depressing.

  Something niggled at the edge of her mind, Shandra had said that Joe was keeping something hidden from her in his suitcase; she could check that out too. She wasn’t worried about it, knowing Joe the way she did it was probably a present he’d brought her for a surprise. He liked to do that, give her jewellery and chocolates for no reason; it was one of the things she loved about him.

  Sometimes it was hard to believe he was Vera’s son, they were so different. She admired him for taking on the responsibility of caring for his mother; it showed what a good man he was, though she just wished sometimes he’d open his eyes and see her for the spiteful whinging old bag she really was. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Vera was careful to be polite to her in front of Joe, thanking her profusely for doing her washing and ironing and then as soon as Joe left the room complaining bitterly her tea was overcooked and Abby needed to take better care of her.

  She put her head round the door and was surprised to see Vera’s head was hanging down and she appeared to have fallen asleep. No doubt tired of waiting for her dinner to be served.

  Abby crept past her and headed upstairs. She went into Vera’s room and over to the bookcase. The whole range of classical book were there, Shakespeare, poems by Wordsworth, large volumes of Charles Dickens works, none of them read, Vera was far too lazy to open a book. What was that old saying, ‘fur coat and no knickers?’ That was her mother-in-law. Her palms sweating slightly, Abby moved the books around peering behind them.

  What had Shandra said? Behind the bookcase, not b
ehind the books. She squatted down on the floor and reached her arm through the gap at the base of the bookcase her fingers folding over a rolled up piece of paper. She pulled it out and gaped.

  It was Vera’s Will, nicely printed out and signed by her mother-in-law at the bottom. The witnesses were two of their neighbours. It contained just a couple of lines of print stating quite clearly that everything she possessed was to go to the local cat’s home.

  So Shandra had been right. Vera was planning on shitting on her son and daughter-in-law from a great height.

  You stinking rotten old bitch, Abby thought, fury racing around her system making her feel sick. How could you do that to your own son? She felt like ripping the paper up and stuffing it into Vera’s vile mouth but common sense took over. Carefully she rolled it back up and pushed it back where she’d found it, smearing the dust around so it looked like it hadn’t been touched. When you’re dead, you old cow, Abby ranted to herself, the first thing I’m going to do is tear the damn Will up and pretend it never existed and you can trust me when I tell you it will be NO PROBLEM.

  Joe would be back any minute so she had to hurry. Abby almost ran into her bedroom and into the closet. Joe only had one suitcase and she lifted it down and put it on the floor.

  What are you hiding from me, Joe, Abby wondered, because she knew she was going to find something, Shandra had been right about Vera’s Will. It didn’t mean it was anything bad though, her mind insisted. Her fingers trembling slightly Abby clicked the two latches down but the case wouldn’t open.

  Of course it was locked, she should have known. If her husband was hiding something from her, even if it was a present he wasn’t going to leave the case unlocked for her to find it.

  She heard a car door slam and her heart leapt into her throat. Joe was back. Quickly she heaved the suitcase back into place, closed the closet door and ran down the stairs.

  She had to behave as normal. She still had to feed and clean out all the animals. The fish were easy, so was the ferret, a bowl of food and water and she left him to it. The four cats were demanding, each one of them requiring their favourite flavour of fish or meat, disdainfully ignoring her while she set about filling their bowls up. The three Jack Russell Terriers scampered around under her feet nearly tripping her up while she filled their dishes up. Why Vera had to have so many animals was beyond Abby, she sometimes thought she did it on purpose to keep her daughter-in-law on her toes. She knew Vera liked to watch her out of the window when she was bending down scooping dog and cat shit onto a shovel, no doubt grinning to herself thinking how pathetic her daughter-in-law was. There’d been times when Abby had been tempted to keep a bit of poop back and mash it in with Vera’s meat pie.

  Joe thought it was funny, but he wasn’t the one who had to clean the poop from the garden every evening.

  Joe hadn’t come in yet and Abby went to the front door. His car wasn’t there, she’d panicked for nothing. Vera was still sleeping so she went back into the kitchen to dish up the dinner.

  A loud crash came from the living room and Abby’s eyes widened. It sounded like something had toppled over. Quickly wiping her hands on a tea towel she rushed through the door and gasped.

  Vera was lying on the carpet, her legs splayed out, her feet turned in, looking like a broken mannequin. The coffee table had been knocked sideways and it looked like she might have been reaching for the remote control. She was very still, not making a sound and Abby crept up to her.

  “Vera?” she whispered.

  There was no answer so Abby crouched down and peered into her mother-in-law’s face. Her pale cheeks were sunken, the two spots of rouge she’d dabbed on them giving the impression Vera was embarrassed to be caught dying in this ungainly manner. Her eyes were wide and staring, and a small line of blood was trickling down her forehead. Her mouth was parted and was drooping sideways like a discontented clown. Her top dentures had slipped down and were lying across her crooked bottom lip. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  Abby stood up and put her hand to her mouth. Her mother-in-law looked dead. She could feel her heartbeat racing, her face flushing with anxiety. She grabbed her handbag and pulled out a small mirror, bent over and held it to Vera’s mouth. At first there was nothing and then a tiny stream of mist became visible.

  Oh, God! Abby jerked backwards, almost toppling over. She was still alive. Phone, she thought; the hospital and then Joe. He would be on his way home from work; he’d have to pull over to take the call.

  With shaking hands she dialled the first two nines and then the hand holding the phone dropped slowly to her side. A coldness crept over her.

  She stared down at the body of her mother-in-law. “What were you thinking, Vera?” She whispered. “That it was okay for you to die and leave us homeless? I don’t think so. What I do think is that you’ve had a stroke and you’re going to need a lot of care and attention and do you know what, old lady? I don’t think I want to give it you. I’m done wasting my life running round after you. You were right, some things are a problem and you’re one of them. If you did the decent thing and died now I could rip up your stinking spiteful Will and no-one would ever know. What do you think of that idea?” She nudged Vera with her foot and her mother-in-law’s body twitched very slightly.

  How long would it take her to die? Abby wondered. It looked like she’d hit her head on the coffee table, there was more blood now running down her face. The three Jack Russell terriers were in the hall scrabbling at the living room door, yapping to be let in. They’d be all over her, licking at the blood, she couldn’t allow that. She began walking backwards. If she remained in the kitchen, carried on preparing Vera’s pork chop and mash potatoes, took the cheesecake out of the freezer and put the portable battery radio on, then she wouldn’t know that her mother-in-law was lying on the floor bleeding to death, would she? It seemed like a good solution.

  Now she remembered Vera telling her Joe had phoned earlier saying he might be late home; that he’d picked up some extra work at the haulage company. She’d been worrying for nothing. Abby shut the kitchen door and switched on the radio. Tom Jones told her it wasn’t unusual and though Abby begged to differ she began singing along with him.

  She found her eyes continually drifting to the kitchen clock above the cupboard. Eight minutes had gone by. She’d sang along to three other songs, half boiled the potatoes, opened a can of garden peas and every second expected Vera to walk into the kitchen, dried blood staining her cheeks, and ask where her dinner was. It didn’t happen and her head began to ache.

  Abby turned the radio down to background noise and carried on rattling saucepans and watching the minutes tick by. Where are you Joe? Your mother’s lying on the floor dying and you should be here. It’s not my responsibility, I’m just here to cook and clean and take care of the both of you.

  The front door bell rang.

  Abby stood frozen. Joe had forgotten his key again and the only way she could let him was if she walked through the living room into the hall and opened the door. Just the thought of it made her legs go weak. She could hardly pretend not to notice his mother sprawled on the carpet. The door bell rang again and to Abby it sounded impatient. Sorry Joe, she thought and turned the radio up another notch. You’ll have to walk round the side of the house and come in through the kitchen. You’ll see me cooking your tea, flushed from the heat, the radio on a bit too loud.

  She waited, the loud music making her headache worse. The pork chops sizzled in the large frying pan already crisping around the edges. Where was he? Surely he should be here by now. Her mind suddenly jittered to another terrifying possibility; maybe Vera had let him in. The thought frightened her so much she felt herself swaying. Could it be that whilst she’d been hiding in the kitchen Vera had stood up, staggered to the front door and let her son in, bitterly complaining to him that Abby had left her collapsed on the living room floor? Had that happened?

  Joe burst through the kitchen door.

  “Bloody hell, A
bby, I’ve been ringing and knocking for ages, didn’t you hear me?” Joe’s usual benign expression was missing, he looked sour and disgruntled. He was a big man running to fat, his belly hanging over his belt. “Turn that racket off.” He pointed to the radio.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t hear you.” She thought she must look flustered but Joe would just think her flushed cheeks were because she was standing over a hot stove.

  “Smells good,” he grunted and pecked at the nape of her neck.

  “Yes, won’t be long. You mother’s watching television I’ll bring you both a cup of tea in.” Abby didn’t like being crafty, it didn’t sit well with her but all hell was about to break loose and self preservation was kicking in. “You look worn out,” she told Joe.

  He gave her a strange look and then shrugged his shoulders. “Peterson sent me out on a last minute job, I told him I wanted paying overtime.” Joe shook his head, “Bastard just laughed, said I was lucky to be employed.”

  Abby felt a warm rush of love for him. He worked so hard but he was self employed. He was lucky to get a contract for three months steady work, he couldn’t afford to turn an opportunity down however poorly paid because there was always someone waiting in line to step in and take the job from him. He was a good worker, reliable and took little time off. It occurred to Abby that without her his life would be a lot more difficult. Who’d look after his mother? In some ways it was an odd thought, she’d always believed she was the one dependent on Joe.

  A little voice niggled in the back of her mind telling her that maybe things would be different now that Vera had gone. The house was paid for and they wouldn’t have to pay rent any longer to the scrounging old bat.

  But of course Joe didn’t know that. He would though, in the next few seconds. Fear fluttered in her chest as she tried to remain calm as if everything was normal.