I’ll tell you no lies
Page 26
The scandal was huge. A major celebrity, one of Britain’s most favoured daughters was a murderer; not only a murderer, a serial killer. The press had a field day. More pages were written following Lucy’s death than had been written about a death since the death of Diana. Her celebrity grew to ridiculous heights.
People wanted even more of her now that she was dead. By the end of July there was already talk of a book and a film. Actresses were clamouring to play Lucy, just for the kudos it could bring to their careers. None of them would be able to do the role any justice however; there were no plans to cast anybody in the role of Sally-Anne. However hard they tried to bring Lucy back to life on the big screen they would always be missing one of the main characters. They could only ever show half of the story…
Thirty-Two
It was twelve months before Lucy’s body was released to John. He’d grown tired of his sister following the first month of her death. The stories, the revelations, the thought that he never really knew his own sister, it all became too much.
John, Steph and Rosie moved to France before the end of January 2014. John relocated his studio to Paris, he was still one of the best in his trade and his business had a worldwide market. They went to escape the vultures. And they did escape them, mostly. A few of the vultures followed them but even they soon got tired. The British as a nation likes to be as close to any scandal as possible. It soon tires of reading about things happening in France. After all, France is still seen as a country far, far away by most Brits, and that’s how they want to keep it, thank you very much.
John, Steph and Rosie did visit Steph’s family on occasion, but mostly it was them who came to France, it was just easier. On 8 September 2014 the three of them did travel to Manchester. The furore associated with Lucy’s life was passing, but even so they would land in Manchester late in the morning and be back in the air by three o’clock. The arrangements had been made with the same undertaker he’d used for his mother and father. No service was required, just open up the family grave and lay her to rest. At rest only, not at peace, he didn’t think she would ever be at peace.
Everything was ready when they arrived. There were no reporters, no photographers; everything had been done very quietly. The last thing they wanted was for a circus to hit town. If it had been left to John the three of them wouldn’t even be there. It was a family decision though; they took a vote on it. It was Rosie who gave the casting vote to make the trip. That’s what comes of allowing a six-year-old child to vote. Children of that age are prone to wearing rose coloured spectacles whenever possible.
It was just as she was getting into the limousine that would take them back to the airport that it happened…
Hello, Rosie; can I be your new friend? Don’t be scared, my name’s Sally-Anne. I won’t hurt you, See, I even know your name. You can trust me, Rosie. You do trust me don’t you? …
Sally-Anne introduced herself to Rosie on a cold windy day in Manchester. The parallels were too good to ignore for Sally-Anne. She’d seen potential in Lucy one day in Manchester, now she saw potential in Rosie too. She was practically overflowing with it.
Epilogue
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.
So ask yourself…
Can apparently good people let an evil force invade their lives, their very being, to such an extent as Sally-Anne invaded Lucy?
Or do you think a person’s destiny in life is set as they leave the womb?
In other words, was Lucy incapable of resisting Sally-Anne because whatever was going to happen had been decided on 10 December 1991?
Could you resist such an evil force if it drew you into its trust, a force so manipulative and powerful?
Or does evil just trawl through the airwaves searching out vulnerability? And when it’s found a particular chink in a person’s armour, exploit it to the full? Picking carefully, choosing the people with greatest potential for harm?
In reality, who’s to know?
And what of Rosie Kirkpatrick…Born into an evil world. Now aged six, and with Sally-Anne having taken up residence in her head, manipulative and powerful in every sense. Will she fair any better in life than her Aunt Lucy? Is it possible she has any Irish blood running through her veins? Could she really be that lucky?
What do you think…?
Rosie posie, pudding and pie,
Kissed the boys and made them cry,
If those boys knew Rosie well,
They’d poke her eye and run like hell.
If those boys turn into men,
She won’t be kissing them again,
And if those men are stupid or brave,
She’ll cut off their heads and dance on their graves.
Rosie posie, pudding and pie,
She’ll hate all men and make them die.
Sally-Anne ensures they die,
She won’t let Rosie live a lie!
For all the men I’ve yet to meet,
Please don’t think your life’s so sweet,
I know all men so very well,
You see,
The devil is a woman and I’m her messenger from hell…
See you soon boys
Sally-Anne xxx
You didn’t really think it was going to be any other way did you?
Springtime 2042 (Somewhere in Brussels)
The secure videophone rang just as Rosie was about to make a call herself. No problem, it was Jack Sulltz on the line, President of the United States of America, the same Jack Sulltz she had been just about to call herself.
“Rosie, good to see you.” Jack said.
“Likewise, Jack. So, tell me what the President of the USA could possibly want from the President of the United Nations of Europe, and only two minutes after leaving a three hour long meeting with his joint chiefs of staff.”
“Good one, Rosie. Goddamned security stinks; this place is about as leaky as Bill Clinton’s pecker at a lap dancing joint.”
“Nothing ever changes, Jack. As hard as you try, we’re still two steps ahead of your donkeys in security.”
“So you should know what I want already?”
“You want UNE backing over a full scale war with China. The first war since twenty-three, it’s a big ask Jack, you’re going to owe me big.”
“We can’t go after the little bastards without Europe, Rosie; you know that.”
“I think I can get you what you want, they’re all like puppy dogs over here when I start to talk. You know you can depend on my backing Jack. Whatever you need, you only need to ask, nicely. Will I see you again this weekend?”
“I can’t wait, Rosie.”
“And, Mr. President; make sure the champagne is on ice this time.”
“I will do, Mademoiselle President.”
Goddamn Yankee asshole!
He’s really not that bad, Sally-Anne; and anyway, we’ve got him right where we want him.
In our bed is not where we want him, Rosie.
One last time, Sally-Anne; then his day is done, it will all be over for him. One way or another Jack Sulltz is next week’s history; he just doesn’t know it yet. That is the way you want it isn’t it, Sally-Anne?
One brain, two minds, one big red button, BOOM
…
Come all you sinners,
Come one come all,
Like lambs to the slaughter,
Come live in my thrall.
…
The world’s hospitals; criminally secure and not so secure, are home to many people who truly believe they hear voices in their heads. These are the schizophrenics thought to be too dangerous to be allowed out in public. There are many others that aren’t in hospital, and never will be, because the voices are a secret…
But what if they’re right and the voices are for real? After all, can you actually get inside someone’s head and hear what he or she is hearing, prove or disprove what he or she says to be the truth about what they hear?
Peter Sutcliffe, AKA the Yo
rkshire Ripper, was convicted of thirteen murders and seven attempted murders in 1981. All of these crimes were committed against women. He was sentenced to twenty life sentences; his destiny for six years of his life was to murder or attempt to murder women until his evil reign was brought to a close and his celebrity fixed forever. He has since been declared clinically insane, a paranoid schizophrenic, although remarkably it took some time for the authorities to reach that diagnosis.
And from the day he was captured, what reason has he consistently given for committing those terrible crimes?
The voices in his head told him to do it…
Peter Sutcliffe believed that he was told to commit those crimes in messages from god. But could the messages have come from the devil?
After all…
…Angels are thought, by some, to be immortal spiritual beings acting as intermediaries between God and humanity. In other words messengers from God. Some people believe they exist, others believe they don’t…
If you believe that God exists, isn’t it implicit that you also believe in the existence of the devil?
If God has messengers in the form of angels, surely the devil could have them too.
Isn’t the devil after all a fallen angel?
And if you weren’t so sure one way or the other, could you take it on trust?
Maybe we should talk; after all, you can trust me.
You do trust me don’t you?
I’ll tell you no lies!
---
Three score and ten an expectant life,
Too quickly how it passes,
A warning here from me to you,
Learn from these meagre classes,
The Devil walks this earth today,
An army she amasses,
Trust is all that she requires,
A power so vast my pretty young lasses,
But remember girls!
Should you decide to try that power,
Assured of it you must be,
For come judgement day you’ll be in hell,
And then the Devil owns your asses.
The End
Norman Wills
Thanks
To everyone who gave me encouragement, advice and help when I needed it
Especially Emma, Joanne and Sandra