Cupidity

by Lucinda Lamont

  The house was a piece of perfection and a work of art. Everyone was taken by surprise when he unveiled it. They had all thought he had been hiding up in his room all this time when what he had been doing was making a hand-crafted masterpiece that would undoubtedly become a family heirloom for a child he didn’t know. He and his brother had hearts of gold.

  David thought he was going to win everyone over with his handmade plough and tractor he had made for the boys. He looked extremely pleased with himself, and so he should, as they were also very good and very thoughtful, but Michael’s pièce de résistance was the gift that stole the show.

  Martha had decided that after today she would make no effort to return to this house again. She decided that she would invite Mae over, it would make sense for the boys to play together. She would avoid all opportunities to be near Peter again. If she were invited, she would make an excuse that she either had something to do or that she was needed back at the farm. She knew she couldn’t avoid the house completely, but she wanted to make sure that she would not be left alone with Peter anytime soon. What surprised her was that she managed to handle the day better than she expected. She had gotten off to a wobbly and nervous start, but once she realised that no one could detect her awkward behaviour or maybe more to the point, no one had noticed, she began to relax.

  How relaxed she became disappointed her. She was knee deep in a path of self-discovery that she had been thrown on involuntarily, and was racing along it at the speed of lightning.

  She was scared but thrilled.

  She was spooked but exhilarated.

  The day passed with high jinks and merriment. They ate more than they needed. They laughed more than expected. They drank more than required. The day was nothing short of a huge success. By the end, Michael surprised everyone yet again by coming out of his shell after a few drinks and whisking Mae off her feet for a jive dance. Everyone cheered him on, but they wouldn’t realise what a wonderful sight it was until the morning due to the excess alcohol and camaraderie.

  That’s if they remembered it.

  The boys went out like a light having revelled in the splendour of the day. They were blessed with the love and gifts that had been given to them and surprisingly, they seemed to know it.

  The adults stayed up and continued to nibble on leftovers but the music was turned down and the thronging atmosphere drew to a close as a post-Christmas Day lull crept in.

  Eventually, they all began to clear up and made their way up to bed. It wasn’t as late night as normal, but every single one of them had overeaten, over drank and over enjoyed themselves and were more than ready for rest.

  Martha and David got into bed and he languidly tried to pull her in with his arm that was like a dead weight. He was a few shorts breaths away from the land of sweet, sweet slumber. A place that seemed dreamier than an actual dream to her right now. She gave him a peck and turned rigidly. He wanted to spoon her and she felt like she was rolling around in a bed of stinging nettles, but she reluctantly allowed him to latch his body onto hers.

  Now that all the commotion was over and the house was silent, Martha became inhibited. Being alone with her thoughts was not where she wanted to be and Martha was many things, most of all, self-aware.

  She lay there telling herself that each night that passed would become more comfortable and especially once they were home, she could get things back to normal.

  She loved David, but she had realised over the last couple of days that she was not in love with David. She loved him very much and she knew how good he was for her. She knew how safe she was with him and she knew that it didn’t matter whether she was in love with him or not, she loved him enough just to be with him. He didn’t give her the burning, passionate desire that resided within her, but what he did give her was worth so much more.

  What she had come to realise was that if something is burning, it will eventually go out. That wasn’t what she wanted or needed. She wanted longevity. She wanted understanding and right now she wanted an all-forgiving love. Or at least she wanted forgiveness, but she knew that would be asking a lot of anyone let alone God or David.

  She began to ponder whether she should tell David what she had done and beg for his forgiveness. The thought only lasted a second. David was many things, but he would not forgive betrayal. His moral fibre was strong. After a day of overindulgence, she was parched and hadn’t taken any water up to bed.

  She listened out for the noise of life coming from the other rooms. She had been in such deep thought she hadn’t heard the snoring sound resonating through the walls from Peter and Mae’s room and hadn’t noticed David’s breathing, which by now resembled a deep-sea diver. With the house in a food and drink coma, she thought she would be safe to tiptoe downstairs and get a glass of water, before quickly returning to bed.

  As she drank her water by the sink, she heard movement upstairs. She should have known he couldn’t resist. Did she know, and is that why she went? She didn’t know the answers to her questions. There was no way she was going to dart and have an awkward passing on the stairs. She would wait for him to come in and then she would tell him clearly that she wasn’t interested. At last, she felt like she had a good idea. This would be perfect, she thought. Tell him once and for all that enough is enough and leave the room before he can speak. Tomorrow life will go back to normal; we will return to the farm, and get away from this madness. She assured herself that she was now in control.

  The footsteps came in the room and she finished her water.

  Without turning she said, ‘I should’ve known you would come. Why can’t you just leave me alone and keep your grubby little mitts to yourself.’ She turned hastily and could just about see a figure in white in the darkness of the room. She went upstairs as quickly but as quietly as she could. As she got to the top of the stairs, Peter was standing in his doorway.

  Martha froze with fear for a moment and looked at Peter. She pushed past him and went into her room to immediately see David lying in bed, still sound asleep.

  It wasn’t Peter in the kitchen.

  It had been Mae.

  Chapter 25

  ‘Sir. Sir, I am glad I have caught you, are you heading out?’

  Officer Pembrooke was normally a busy man, but crime had, thankfully, been quiet for him recently, and he was on his way to interview someone who had reported vandalism in their garden.

  ‘Well I was just on my way out, PC Jones, but I can spare you a few minutes. Always happy to help you youngsters.’ Just because he wasn’t that busy, he didn’t think the kid needed to know that.

  ‘I’ve had a gentleman come in who lives on Everest Road. He didn’t say the number.’

  ‘Right…’

  ‘Well, he claims to have seen a tall, dark figure inside number 28.’

  ‘And…’

  ‘I thought you might want to know that. I thought she lived there on her own?’

  ‘Who? What are you talking about Jones, you’ve lost me.’

  He hung his thumbs into his jacket belt hoops and leaned back as if extending out his slightly rotund belly. PC Jones looked at his senior, baffled somewhat and then looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. The coast was clear, so he leaned in and whispered;

  ‘That nutter that’s on the loose. His Mum’s house. His Mum lives at number 28, doesn’t she?’

  The penny had dropped with a thud and a clink in Pembrooke’s head, as the realisation dawned on him.

  ‘Very good. Of course, I knew what you were referring to; I was teaching you the benefits of not… beating around the bush as it were. I was heading over there now actually.’

  PC Jones didn’t entirely believe Officer Pembrooke, but wasn’t too bothered. He could understand his sense of pride.

  ‘Can I come with you?’

  Jones was looking at Pembrooke like a dog that had rolled, begged, offered his paw and was now sitting waiting for his reward.

  Officer Pembrooke let out a deep sigh as if to indi
cate that he was unsure that this was a good idea and then he agreed, reluctantly.

  What PC Jones didn’t know was that Officer Pembrooke was glad he was coming, as he wasn’t sure now what he was going to walk into today. The vandalised garden was to be put on the back burner, while he investigated real crime.

  The two policemen arrived at Everest Road and decided to walk up and down the street first before making any contact with Evelyn. PC Jones, who told Officer Pembrooke on the way that he could call him James, filled Pembrooke in on what he knew so far, and what he suspected could be happening. It turned out that although James hadn’t been working on the case, he had taken a particular interest in it, as most people in their village had been affected by it either directly or not far off. It was a small village and most of the residents all knew each other. All the men wanted the killer to be gone whether it was the result of an arrest or a vigilante.

  Most would prefer the latter, probably.

  When the neighbour of Evelyn had arrived at the police station to say that he thought something suspicious was going on, he wanted to remain anonymous, but James was more than happy to collect the details with the hope of being allowed to help on the case.

  Pembrooke listened intently, mainly because he was surprised by how much this James lad seemed to know. He told James that he had done his homework and that none of what he was saying him was news to him, and of course, he was up to date with it all. He had learned a few minor details from James, and he had gained some insight into potential theories, but he did not reciprocate on the offer of first name terms.

  As they slowly walked the pavements of Everest Road, James noticed the neighbour that had come forward anonymously peering out from behind a net curtain, directly opposite Evelyn’s house. It occurred to James that this man was much more than a concerned neighbour, he was an extremely reliable witness, and probably knew more than he had said. He had come across as a bit of an oddball when he came in, but James had already learned early on in his short career that the slightly odd, nervous, stay at home and peer out of the window types were one of the police force’s most valuable assets.

  As soon as they made eye contact, the man quickly disappeared behind the heavily smoked stained, yellow, net curtain. James kept quiet about having seen him. He knew he could use that card later, plus he already suspected that Pembrooke knew less than he said he did. He didn’t want to dent the man’s pride any further than he already had, after all, he didn’t say that he could call him by his first name. Slowly, slowly, catchy monkey he thought to himself. He wanted to work his way up the ladder, and upsetting his senior was not the way to go about that.

  After walking the length of the street, Pembrooke announced that they would now go and call on Evelyn, and see what they could find out. James had said it had been a useful walk, as he had spotted three alleyways between the terraced houses and had noticed that most of the gardens were open and that he suspected a lot of the back gardens were shared. Pembrooke looked at him, baffled by his interest in such miniscule things.

  James could see that his comments had gone over his head.

  ‘I was looking to see how easy it is to get in and out of this street. You know, if this Simon character is being put up by his old dear, how easy is it for him to come and go incognito, like? From what I can see he can easily hop across gardens and take back alleys, so he wouldn’t need to be seen out on the main street. If he is coming and going in the night, it is likely no one even knows he is living on this street.’

  Officer Pembrooke felt all the blood rush to his cheeks and his head went light as if he had stood up too quickly. He hadn’t even given any of that any thought. The more time he spent with his new protégé it dawned on him how rusty and out of practice he was.

  Nothing serious had ever happened in their village, he had never had to put much of his training into practice. Now here he was up against a fresh, young whippersnapper who was revelling in the severity of the situation, getting to put good use to all the training he had received.

  Pembrooke felt a pang of envy but also one of pride. He needed to encourage this lad, he thought. All it can take is one negative influence or experience to have your dream crushed. Pembrooke wanted this lad to go on and be the best version of himself he could be, and so he decided from this day on he would take him under his wing, and give him the support and encouragement he needed.

  As they approached Evelyn’s door, James went to go around the back of the house, through the communal alleyway.

  ‘What are you doing now, kid?’ Pembrooke looked bemused at his new student.

  ‘I’m going around the back. You knock the front door, I’ll scale the back in case he tries to escape,’ James was whispering.

  Officer Pembrooke was embarrassed, and proud yet again. He expected that James might be taking it all a bit too seriously, but laughed on the inside at his gusto.

  Officer Pembrooke peered through the living room window. It was hard to see anything through the net curtains, but he thought he could make out Evelyn sitting in her chair with her back to the window. He walked to the door and knocked three times.

  What he hadn’t seen was Simon kneeling in front of Evelyn, with one hand around her throat and the other covering her mouth. She had a black eye and a cut on her cheek.

  Officer Pembrooke knocked three more times.

  Simon stayed still and silent. He could feel the hot breath of Evelyn on his hand, but he didn’t look at her. He was looking at the door the whole time.

  Pembrooke was sure he had seen her in her chair. Perhaps she was asleep, he thought. He went back to the window, which he tapped lightly. There was no movement from the chair.

  She must be asleep, he thought, hopefully not dead. He decided to come back and check on her later, or tomorrow. He reassured himself that she must be asleep, but it wasn’t sitting right with him. He felt odd and he didn’t know why. In the end, he told himself it was just worrying. He didn’t like to think of the elderly being alone and especially in the winter, that’s when a lot of them seemed to pass. He hoped she wasn’t dead.

  James hadn’t come back around so Pembrooke made his way to the back of the house to tell him they would come back later. As he reached the back of the house James was nowhere to be seen. Then he saw that the back door was ajar. Officer Pembrooke cautiously entered the house, he felt very unsettled but decided that if his junior was in there, he had to go in as well. He prayed that they wouldn’t discover Evelyn’s body rooted to her chair, with deep-set rigor mortis.

  Once Pembrooke was in the kitchen; he realised he could hear a deep voice. He tried to listen, but the pounding of his heart in his ears was making it hard for him to hear.

  ‘You are supposed to protect me, you old witch. You’re my mother.’

  The sound of heavy footsteps pacing followed.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump.

  Officer Pembrooke wondered if he was going to have a heart attack. He was frozen with fear mixed with panic, and a tiny dose of adrenalin. He needed to find James and he needed to find him quickly.

  ‘They’ll be back you know. They’ll be back, and then they’ll find out you’ve been keeping me here, and you will go to prison. Oh, they won’t be kind to you.’

  He laughed which sent a shiver down Pembrooke’s spine. Pembrooke shifted slowly through the kitchen and picked up a long knife on the way. He just hoped that he didn’t have to use it.

  He felt trapped in a horrendous nightmare that he wasn’t prepared for. He had only ever dealt with petty crime. He was entirely out of sorts.

  As he got out of the kitchen and into the hallway, he saw James with his back against the wall, who then gestured to him to be quiet. James saw that Pembrooke had the knife and gave him the thumbs up. He motioned towards his truncheon and mouthed ‘after three’ with a nod.

  Pembrooke waved his hands in a surrendered way. He was not ready for this.

  He knew that they needed to take swift action, but he had nev
er been so terrified in all his life. He looked at James and he knew it was happening. He had to follow James’ lead and pray that this would go smoothly.

  James tiptoed to the living room door, and slowly poked his head around. He saw Evelyn in her chair. She looked horrendous. Her hands were bound with bailing twine, her face was black and blue and she was so thin. She looked very frail like she was going to die. Her hair was a mess and she had what looked like soup all over her top. Soup that was days old.

  James felt sick but empowered. He raised his truncheon above his head and Evelyn looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

  Simon knew instantly someone was there. James hit him with every bit of strength he could muster. As the truncheon cracked across Simon’s head, his eyebrow split and a bead of blood appeared which then began to trickle.

  Simon launched into James. He picked him up by the scruff of his neck with what seemed like supernatural strength and slammed him against the wall, and then head-butted him, knocking him out. He then threw him to the floor with an almighty force.

  Officer Pembrooke was right behind him, and was crushed mentally when he saw what had happened to Evelyn. If it wasn’t for the same house, he wouldn’t have known it was her. He drew the knife and hesitantly thrust it forward at Simon.

  Simon completely dodged the move and immediately took the knife right out of his hand in one easy swipe.

  Officer Pembrooke stood there, ashen looking and completely petrified. He begged Simon, who cowered over him.

  ‘Please. Please don’t do this. I have a wife and children, please.’

  He cried as he pleaded with and for his life.