by Norman Wills
Terry didn’t disappoint. At half past five she watched Terry quietly make his way towards the store room door. Just as he was about to put his face to the glass panel she swung the door open and dragged him in by his arm without a word. Terry looked like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights. He knew he shouldn’t be there but he was powerless to do anything about the oncoming danger.
“Hello, Terry. I’d been hoping you were going to show up, I’m Lucy and I’m all alone and need some company,” Sally-Anne said, “my friend hasn’t turned up yet and I don’t think she’s coming, will you keep me company, Terry?”
He was struck dumb, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he’d only come to watch. She was even prettier close up though, and she knew his name so she must be a friend.
“Shall we sit on the mats, Terry? We can talk if you like.”
This was a unique opportunity for him, but he didn’t understand that. No man had been given the chance Sally-Anne was about to offer him. He wasn’t really taking much of a part in it though; Sally-Anne was like a mother leading her child across a busy road holding their hand so they felt safe, Terry just wasn’t aware of the oncoming traffic, he was blind to the danger he now faced.
“Was it you who saw me and my friend in here two weeks ago playing?” asked Sally-Anne. “Do you like to play? Maybe we should take our clothes off and play. What do you think, Terry? Shall we play a game like that?”
Terry nodded, it was barely a movement of the head but he definitely wanted to play though, especially the sort of games Sally-Anne was talking about.
“Good, I thought for a moment there you didn’t like me. You’re very quiet, Terry. You don’t say much do you? I’d have been very upset if you didn’t like me.”
“I like you.” Terry mumbled, blushing.
“Now you’ve made me so happy, I’m going to take off my tie and blouse and let you see what’s underneath, then I’m going to take off my skirt and let you see what’s under there too, close up this time, you little cheeky monkey. Is that okay?” Asked Sally-Anne
Terry nodded quickly; he couldn’t believe his luck.
“Are you going to show me what you look like, Terry? Without any clothes on, I bet you look great.”
Sally-Anne could see that Terry was a big boy, judging by the bulge that had formed in his trousers when she took her blouse off to reveal a lacy bra that quickly followed suit. She walked over to the other side of the room to place her clothes on a cricket bag and then took off her skirt and knickers, kicking her shoes off at the same time.
“Come on, Terry. Now don’t be shy, you do want to do this don’t you?” Sally-Anne asked.
Terry wanted to do this, who wouldn’t? He started pulling hard at his belt in his haste to disrobe.
“Gently, Terry.” said Sally-Anne, You don’t want to hurt yourself before I’ve even had chance to get my hands on you do you?”
Terry slowed down but quickly got down to his underpants, which were doing a very poor job of concealing his now fully erect, and some would say more than ample man hood, he was too shy to carry on.
“Come on, Terry. Everything off, don’t disappoint me,” said Sally-Anne, “you wouldn’t like me to start getting dressed again would you?”
With that last bit of encouragement Terry shook his head, slid his underpants down to the floor and stood up proud. It was when he stood up that he could see Sally-Anne coming at him with an eight-inch kitchen knife. The knife was in his stomach and through to his back before he’d had time to react, not that he’d have known what to do anyway. Sally-Anne quickly pulled out the blade and stabbed him again; she jumped back as the blood started to flow.
Terry didn’t understand what had just happened, his face was full of confusion, as he looked at Sally-Anne she was grinning back at him. Surely this couldn’t be part of the game, it was too painful; he was confused, what was he supposed to do now? He wanted to go home; his mum would know what to do. Sally-Anne was picking something up from inside the cricket bag and putting them on her hands, batting gloves, she then slipped into an old discarded pair of cricket shoes before walking over to Terry’s prone body, now flat on his back with the same look of confusion on his face.
The last things he saw were two cricket wickets being aimed at his eyes before they were pushed with great force into his head. He was beyond screaming at that point and went out with barely a whimper. It was doubtful that Terry could have survived much longer than that, but even without his eyes and very probably already dead he still looked confused.
Confusion was an expression that Sally-Anne didn’t particularly like, she thought it was typical of a man to be confused when he thought he was going to have sex but all he got was a knife in his belly for his troubles.
She picked up a seven-pound shot put and with a rage that very rarely surfaces even in the hardest thug, for the next few minutes proceeded to get rid of the expression on his face. She didn’t only manage to get rid of the expression, she actually managed to get rid of his face altogether, splintering most of his skull into the pulpy mess that was now his brain. His head now looked as if it had been run over by a steamroller.
Picking up some of the mashed up brain matter that had once resided in Terry’s skull she began to rub slowly between her legs until an uncontrollable orgasm burst through her body. Laughing now, she picked up the knife once again and cut off Terry’s penis. “Not such a magnificent erection now. You stupid thick waste of space” Sally-Anne shouted. She threw it behind the stacked gym mats, where a young female detective would eventually find it. From that moment on and for the following months that same police officer would question her decision to join the force. This had to have been the worst day of her, so far, uncomplicated and unremarkable career.
When Sally-Anne was satisfied that Terry wasn’t going to be any more of a danger to Lucy’s and her own futures she made her way into the boy’s changing room. She showered, at first with the shoes and cricket gloves still on to get all the blood off them and then for five more minutes she cleaned herself off, washing herself completely, getting rid of all the blood and brain tissue that had been flying around so freely shortly beforehand. Taking care to use the wet gloves she turned off the shower, dried herself down and left, rubbing the foot marks from the floor with the wet towel as she went, making her way back to the storeroom.
Dressing quickly she gathered everything she’d used, the knife, cricket gloves, shoes, shot put and towel. She wiped the floor where she’d got dressed and cleaned off the shot put, placing it with the others on the rack. She wrapped the cricket shoes and gloves in the towel and placed these in her bag, leaving unnoticed.
Someone was in for a shock the next day, but not before the knife was back in the kitchen drawer thoroughly cleaned and the cricket gloves and shoes had been placed in a dustbin outside a house four streets away, ready for collection the following day.
Sally-Anne what happened? I couldn’t watch after you’d knifed him, you totally lost it. What happened, you were just going to kill him, you didn’t have to get such a buzz out of it. I didn’t need that amount of protection; just dead would have been fine. Stop him talking was all we needed.
Lucy, I didn’t really enjoy it that much myself, I was only setting the police off on a false trail. There’s no way they’re going to think that anyone other than a man could do something so gruesome. They’re going to be confused about that one. It made sense to do it that way.
I’m confused too, and I did feel all your excitement, you loved it, or have you forgotten? I feel what you feel and you feel what I feel, remember?
Don’t get too excited, you need me don’t forget. I might have been the one beating his brains to a pulp but you try convincing anybody it was me and not you. Try convincing them I exist at all. You need me, Lucy. You need me as much as I need you. You’ll never get through this life on your own; together we can do anything.
Terence’s Sandford’s ultimate destiny had been set when Lucy had given Sally-Anne her to
tal trust; from that point on his future had been in the hands of a guardian angel. Unfortunately for Terry, the angel in question was Sally-Anne, Lucy Kirkpatrick’s guardian angel; Terry’s guardian angel had been nowhere in sight that Wednesday evening. So Terry went to meet his maker a little sooner than expected, and with his virginity still intact.
The fact that he would never have mentioned what he’d seen to anyone else was of little consequence, Sally-Anne had decided what needed to be done, there was no point Lucy arguing about it, Sally-Anne was enjoying herself too much.
Lucy realised that it was Sally-Anne alone who’d killed Terence Sandford; she’d been only a spectator, a bystander at a game. She’d watched as much as she could then let Sally-Anne carry on alone. She had wanted what was best for their future happiness so she accepted it. She didn’t have to like how she’d done it but she now trusted Sally-Anne to do the right thing as far as her future was concerned, but maybe not in the right manner though.
The school had had to close the following day, the police wanted to have uninterrupted access to all areas. It appeared from gossip that was making its way quickly around the local grapevine that a complete lunatic had run amok the previous evening in school killing at least three people. This must have been what people were expecting; after all, didn’t it happen in America so often now? Lucy knew better, the complete lunatic had only killed one, and he’d had it coming anyway.
Jayne had been questioned, more out of duty than anything else, the police were fairly sure that someone as petite as Jayne couldn’t have caused so much damage to a person’s skull. They weren’t even sure that many men existed who could have caused that much damage. Whoever Terry had upset in there, he’d done a thorough job of it.
Jayne had had a cast iron alibi though; she’d been looking for a flat close to school. She’d been finding the journey from her hometown of Wigan a little too much every day. She now needed a place of her own, a place where she could entertain Lucy in privacy and safety. Renting a flat near school would kill two birds with one stone. Jayne, Lucy and Sally-Anne were all working towards the same goal; it was just Sally-Anne whose methods were becoming a little extreme.
Two weeks later with the murder slowly fading towards the backs of people’s minds Jayne moved her belongings into her new flat. The flat was only five minutes walk from school and it meant she and Lucy could pick up where they’d left off when they’d been interrupted by Terry, not that Jayne would ever know they’d been interrupted by Terry.
The very thought of setting foot in the storeroom gave her the creeps now, she could never enjoy Lucy’s company again in that storeroom for thinking that poor defenceless Terry, no more than a child really at twenty seven, had being brutally murdered there. And it had all happened only feet from their favourite stack of gym mats piled up high in the corner.
With Jayne settled in her new flat and enjoying the freedom of life without her parents once again, she and Lucy were able to continue their relationship. The truth was that they took it to another level. It had never been just about sex, even at the beginning, they’d both known that, but now it was much more.
They were in love. Had Jayne known the sacrifice Terry Sandford had paid to allow that love to flourish she would have walked away from it in an instant. She didn’t know though, and if she had known she might have tried to walk away but she couldn’t have done that, Sally-Anne couldn’t have allowed that to happen, she would have to protect Lucy somehow. Luckily for Jayne her love for Lucy was as strong as Sally-Anne’s protective instinct.
Thirteen
Marie finally decided to come clean about her relationship with Simon to Lucy and John during the Christmas holidays of 2006. A year after David’s death, Simon was introduced to Marie’s family. She didn’t come totally clean about Simon though, she said they’d known each other for a while but had started seeing each other only the previous month.
She certainly didn’t mention the fact that she’d been screwing Simon at the same time David had been doing such a good job of killing himself. She thought it would be best all round if that little snippet of information was kept under wraps, buried alongside David in the grave she hadn’t yet found enough time to visit in the twelve months since his death.
Christmas was a very enjoyable time for all, John and Steph had visited for a couple of days on their way to Rome for a photo shoot and a winter break. They were such a loving, happy couple. Marie saw in them what she and David had once had; it had made her wonder when it was that it had all gone wrong for them. She couldn’t pinpoint a particular time or event but looking back she now felt that Lucy’s arrival on the scene in 1981 could have been the turning point.
David had seemed happy at the time but she realised now that he may well have resented having to start again after seven years having done the early years with John, with the nappy changing and night-time feeding years supposedly a dim and distant fading memory. That resentment had probably been simmering beneath the surface for David in a place hidden from view; someplace even David was unaware of until it was too late. Maybe when he finally felt unburdened enough to move up the corporate ladder he found that he just couldn’t handle the pressure and one day all the bad stuff in his life that he’d kept hidden was just too much.
This was the only explanation Marie could find for him to have committed suicide. It was feasible, it could have been true, and it worked for her so she filed it deep in her subconscious and carried on living her new life. Nothing could have been further from the truth but there are some situations where the truth doesn’t work for everyone.
She’d been pleased with Lucy’s progress. In recent months she’d been getting out of the house much more than she’d done since moving to Manchester four years earlier. She’d said she’d made some new friends and seemed so much happier than of late. Sleepovers were becoming a regular thing these days. Marie was never going to question these too closely as they afforded her the chance to have Simon stay over. She liked the opportunity to spend nights with Simon, when they were available, in her own bed. Lucy liked the opportunity to spend nights with Jayne too; a little white lie to her mum could always give her the opportunity when she felt the need.
Lucy had been to visit John and Steph on four occasions since Christmas and enjoyed every minute of her time there. She missed Jayne, but it made their reunions extra special when they had been apart for even just a few days. She also enjoyed her time with Stein; he’d come across as a replacement father figure to Lucy, someone she could talk to. He did however shock her to her core one day when he guessed her sexual preferences whilst they’d been totally alone on a shoot, dropping it into the conversation as if they’d been discussing the price of free range chicken at the local Tesco supermarket.
“But how can you know that? Nobody knows about that, I’ve never said anything to anyone, only Jayne knows. We’ve been very careful.” Lucy said nervously.
“My dear girl, it takes one to know one and believe me I should know one.” Stein replied.
“But Patrick, not even my mum knows…or John.”
“And they won’t find out from me, my dear. Don’t worry on that account. But don’t forget,” Said Stein, “I’ve been around people with a different sexual taste than society accepts as, shall we say, the norm, for the biggest part of my life. It’s not very difficult to spot, Lucy. Let’s face it, dearest; there have been some of the most beautiful looking young men you could wish to meet walk into these studios while you’ve been here. Most girls of your age would faint at the very thought of it. With you though not even a flicker of recognition on your face. But when a beautiful woman walks through the door, well that’s a different matter completely, you come alive my dear, alive.”
“It’s that obvious?” Lucy asked.
“Oh no, it’s not obvious to everyone my precious young thing, only the ones with a well-trained eye. You’ll have one yourself one day soon, just you mark my words.” Stein replied with a knowing smile.
Lucy was so pleased that she now had someone she could talk to about her secret life; she practically threw herself at Stein and hugged him for everything she was worth. Most women didn’t get more than a peck on the cheek from Stein but he knew he’d just given her a release that she’d needed. He was so pleased for her that he hugged her back just as hard, as if she were his own daughter, not that he would ever have a daughter. That would mean having sex with a woman and there wasn’t much chance of that happening, unless she’d had a sex change. He thought he might just consider that, for the experience.
“We all have demons we’re carrying around, Lucy. Now you’ve just got one less as far as I’m concerned. I think this girl Jayne must be a very lucky young lady, very lucky indeed.” Stein said.
I bet he can’t tell you what other little secret you’re carrying around though, Lucy. He doesn’t know about me does he? Poncey little arse bandit.
Just look who is talking, little hypocrite.
Yeah well, it takes one to know one apparently, and believe me I should know one. Not only is he a man, he also gets his rocks off with other men. He’s just like the rest of them only worse; he’ll let you down one day, Lucy. In the words of the great man himself; just you mark my words, my precious young thing.
Stein finding out about Lucy’s secret sex life changed very little in reality; if anything it just strengthened her resolve, her desire, even more. Here was a man who had obviously lived a very different and very successful life compared to the common man in the street. And that man had just told her that he could see where her very life force was based, and that it was acceptable for that life force to come from the love of another woman. Lucy couldn’t believe the acceptance he’d given her. He wasn’t one to quibble about Lucy’s age. Love was love after all and Lucy was much more mature than most people her age. He just wished he had his life to live again. He probably wouldn’t do much different, maybe see his doctor about his headaches sooner than he had.