Simon leaned forward and penetrated the blade deep into Officer Pembrooke’s neck.
Pembrooke gasped and stared at Simon with broken eyes. He lost his posture and his body slid into a slumped position against the wall.
James was still unconscious. Evelyn was crying. Simon showed no feeling. He looked around the room and laughed, throwing the knife across the room and pounding his chest like Tarzan while laughing loudly.
Evelyn was breaking down and Simon was not interested.
He went about removing the Officers’ uniforms and making an outfit for himself with a combination of the two.
Once he was dressed, he calmly walked out of his mother’s house without so much as looking back, leaving her there, sobbing, black and blue and tied up with bailing twine.
Chapter 26
It had been two weeks since Officer Pembrooke’s death.
The whole community was shocked and saddened. The aftermath of the attacks on the girls had been awful, but the death of a long-standing, friendly and people passionate policeman took its toll on the villagers.
Everyone liked Officer Pembrooke and a lot of people saw him as a father figure, he was a loving family man.
His junior who had been with him on that fateful day, spoke of his admiration for his colleague when he got out of the hospital. He said he showed real bravery, and that he hoped he could be as good as him in his career. Then he vowed to find the killer and get justice for all his victims. T
he villagers believed him as he delivered his speech with tears rolling down his cheeks. He confirmed that the police station would be holding a commemorative celebration for Officer Pembrooke’s life, and service to the force, but not before the commemoration party planned to mark the end of the war that had been scheduled by local councillors.
They had discussed whether they could make Pembrooke’s passing a part of it, but it had been voted against as they felt that the village would benefit from a celebration.
They also felt that Pembrooke deserved a dignified event that was exclusive to him.
It was the morning of the ‘end of the war’ party and Martha was trying to get Willy ready. Willy was not making this easy for her and she felt she had little patience for him today. She had noticed she had little patience for anything recently and had found that her moods were up and down more than usual. She hadn’t been to Mae’s house since Christmas.
On the morning of Boxing Day, Mae had enjoyed telling everyone how she had caught Martha sleepwalking and how she was lucky she had been there, in case she had injured herself.
They all laughed it off, apart from Peter.
Since then, which was only a couple of months ago, she had refused all invites. She had told Mae that she hadn’t been feeling great, which wasn’t actually a lie. She had felt rubbish in recent weeks. The ramifications of her actions were still manifesting within her and her everyday life, and she couldn’t shake them off.
She felt tired, sick, restless and was off her food. She realised it would take time for her to get over her actions. David had noticed a couple of things but didn’t seem too worried. If anything, he was sweeter than usual.
Good old, reliable David. Where would she be without him. S
he secured Willy’s tie and then combed his hair to the side. She had managed to control his unruly cowlick thanks to the use of Uncle Michael’s ‘Jeris’ antiseptic hair tonic’. Normally she wouldn’t allow him to put any of these horrible products on his beautiful blonde locks but she needed perfection for today.
The party was to celebrate the end of the war. It wasn’t an official party, as such. It had been organised by local councillors as a ‘lift me up’ for the local, tight-knit community. It was to be a day of celebration and they were going to give out awards for outstanding members of the community. They knew Peter was getting one. She wished they hadn’t known so that they could not go, but Martha realised that not going for no reason would appear odd.
The whole village was going and everyone was looking forward to it. Everyone apart from Martha. Once Willy was dressed and Martha was happy with her work, she told him he could go downstairs and do some drawing while she got ready.
‘I want to stay here with you, Mummy.’
He said it angelically, looking like a little cherub. Sometimes she was afraid of how much he was growing up and how he was slowly pulling away from her in his ever-developing independence, but little throwaway comments like that would remind her he was a tiny boy, and he needed her just as much as she needed him.
She took him by the hand.
‘Very well young man, perhaps you can help me choose which dress to wear.’
They smiled at each other and went into her room.
They laughed and played as she tried on various dresses to sounds of vomiting if Willy didn’t like it, or clapping if he did. Between the two of them they had whittled down the choices to three. They had picked out a short-sleeved paisley patterned dress. She held it up to her again and they decided it was too summery.
The next one was a log sleeved sleek dress with a floral pattern. She decided it was too ‘Mumsy’ despite Willy saying he ‘really liked it.’
The last dress was by far the most glamorous. The top half was cut like a long sleeve shirt. The sleeves would roll up and button at the elbow. The bottom half puffed out like a meringue.
It was Olive in colour but the fabric changed colour depending on the light. It went shades of terracotta and brown and gold. She slipped into it with elegance. She had already applied her makeup and styled her hair earlier that morning before anyone was awake.
She couldn’t sleep and it seemed like a good use of time. Her victory rolls had set at the front of her head perfectly and her makeup, for once, looked flawless. Her red lipstick screamed ‘icon.’. She couldn’t see it, of course. She buttoned up her dress and then secured the belt around her waist. As she patted down the skirt she looked up and saw that Willy’s jaw was on the floor, as was David’s, who had been standing in the doorway watching her get dressed. She looked at them both and came over all coy.
‘Baby, you look a million dollars. What on God’s green earth did I do to deserve a girl like you?’
David was grinning from ear to ear, holding his mug in his hand. He was covered in engine grease and knew now was not the time to go in for a cuddle and a kiss.
‘I will do my best to scrub up for you, m’lady, but you will be the belle of the ball, that’s for sure.’
He gave her a mock curtsy and walked off shaking his head in disbelief.
Martha had been racking her brain about how today would go, seeing Peter.
She had seen Mae since Christmas, but she had not seen him. Mae had been to the house once, and then they had met in the village one morning. Both meetings had seemed to go ok, but Martha hadn’t instigated either of them. She was aware that she was a lousy friend to Mae, but she felt that if she were the one pushing to meet up, then that would make her even worse. She obliged with the meetings Mae had requested, but Mae hadn’t suggested another meet up since. Martha didn’t know when she would be able to advise it, if ever.
They all piled into David’s truck to head into the village. He had cleaned it especially for his girl and his stepson. The both looked so smart and he couldn’t have been prouder. He felt that they were a different calibre to him but they were there, they were by his side, and he would do his damn best by them. He hadn’t scrubbed up too badly anyhow. Martha had made some small changes to his outfit choice. She told him that his shirt didn’t go with the trousers so one of them had to change and he let her choose. She did and then she changed his shoes too and then she felt that he looked dapper and handsome.
She felt an outpour of love for him. She could see how much he wanted her, and she wished she could feel the same back.
They pulled up outside the village hall and there was already a stream of cars and a crowd of villagers gathering by the entrance. David told Martha to get out with Willy,
and that he would find somewhere to park the car. She did and was immediately greeted by an extremely glamorous Mae with her children.
‘Martha, darling. There you are. I’m so glad to see you. Peter is off discussing when he has to go up and collect his award, or whatever it is they are doing. Of course, there are loads of people here we know, but I wanted to see you. You know, someone more normal.’
Martha knew what Mae meant, and didn’t take offence. She would be glad of Mae’s continuous, babble like chatter today. Mae beckoned them inside and Martha told her she needed to wait for David.
‘Oh, very well then, I will take Willy in. He can sit with Charlie. Come and find us, we are inside on the left, third row from the back.’
The village was fortunate to have a grand hall. It wasn’t any old hall. It doubled up as a theatre, although it hadn’t been used like that since before the second world war began, but it also had changing rooms and backed onto local playing fields.
This was the first major event they were holding since the end of the war was announced the previous spring. It was to be the party of the year, that’s what had been promised. People were advised to expect a second Victory day style celebration. From what Martha had seen so far, everyone had undoubtedly dressed up for the event. She was glad she had gone for the dress she had. She hadn’t felt confident in it earlier, but some of the women that were arriving were making her look positively dull. At least, that’s how she saw herself, but she was one of the most stunning women there. Her elegance and candour would make her one of the most beautiful women there.
Everyone piled into the hall and took their seats. There were lots of faces Martha had grown to recognise. David seemed to know almost everyone that came through the door. Well, most of the regular people. Peter wasn’t friendly with those types, but the ones David didn’t know were precisely the type of friends that were exclusive to people like Peter. When David saw someone he knew, there seemed to be a mutual head nod or a wink of an eye which seemed sufficient, thought Martha. If one of Peter’s silver spoon fed friends came in, there appeared to be a waft of arrogance that would flow through the building.
The thing is, thought Martha, these ‘upper class’ were outnumbered by the normal folks. They could walk in here with their airs and graces, but they didn't impress anyone apart from their small clique. She was happy to be on the side of the larger group, the ‘normal’ people.
The doors closed and the town’s head councillor began with an opening speech. He opened by welcoming everyone to what was going to be the biggest party of 1946. Standing behind him in an orderly fashion were those who were to receive awards from him shortly. There was a mixture of folk as this was a community event. There were war heroes, which is the category Peter fell into. Martha didn’t think he deserved it. He hadn’t been out there fighting like Johnny had. He hadn’t gotten his hands dirty or even shed any blood. She didn’t know exactly what he did, but she imagined him seated in an oversized leather chair in an office filled with books that he hadn’t read.
In her daydream she imagined him being told he had a visitor and he advised his secretary to give it five minutes and then let them in. He was signing something. Something important? Who knew, it was just a daydream. She thought that was about as much as he could manage. He was probably responsible for signing things off that he had little or no understanding of the consequences.
As she came out of her daze, she had realised she had been staring at him the whole time. He had been scouring the entire room, assuming everyone was there for him. He was scouring the audience, and then their eyes met.
He looked at her, and she looked at him. It was back. The racing heartbeat. The beads of sweat appearing on her upper lip. Her hands were becoming clammy again. This was ridiculous, she told herself. She looked down and then she looked up. He was still staring right at her and then, promptly before her, he became Johnny. The face looking back at her was Johnny.
She desperately wanted to be as far away from this hall as possible. Her mouth began to fill with warm saliva, and she knew she was going to be sick. She grabbed the gift bag that she had been given on entry; it contained a balloon and a leaflet detailing the order of the day, and she promptly threw up in it just as Peter’s name was called for him to collect his award. David began to pander to her and she said she just needed a minute, got up and went looking for the facilities to freshen up.
She found her way into the men’s changing rooms. She could have ended up anywhere. Once she had got up and left her seat, she had darted around aimlessly, looking for somewhere to continue being sick. The first glimpse of a toilet and she was in there. She had been violently ill and then found she needed a minute to relax, to get over the heaving.
Once she had calmed down, she went to the sink and rinsed her mouth with water.
Luckily, she had some mints with her, and she knew this morning that she hadn’t felt too good. The nerves had gotten the better of her. No sooner had she thought about seeing Peter did he appear in the room right before her. She took a step back and placed both of her hands on the sink behind her. Peter smiled at her softly. He smiled in a way she hadn’t seen before. It seemed genuine; it seemed caring. He began to walk towards her.
‘Martha, I don’t want not to see you again. I know what we did was wrong, but I want you to know I do not think badly of you. This has all been me. I know that.’
All she could see was Johnny. She wanted to cry. She inched towards him. Closer and closer until they were nose to nose.
‘Johnny? Is that you?’
Peter said nothing, but before he knew it, Martha was kissing him and pulling at his shirt. His perfectly waxed hair fell out of place and their hands were everywhere. Martha was saying, ‘Johnny, Johnny.’ over and over again. Peter didn’t stop her.
He pushed her up against the sink, undid his trousers and entered her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and they both embraced each other passionately as she allowed him to have his way with her.
Directly behind them was a frosted window that was ajar. Simon was the other side of it. He was watching every detail of what they were both doing and was aroused by it.
He could see Peter’s naked rear going back and forth.
He loved the slapping of the skin.
He wanted in on the action.
It had been a while.
‘Mummy I need a wee.’
Charlie was pulling on his mother’s dress, while she chatted with some of the wives.
‘Okay, darling, well you know where the loos are. You can go but come straight back. I think your dad is out there somewhere to see if you can find him.’
Charlie ran off clutching his crotch as most children his age did. There was no, ‘I need to wee soon’ it was always ‘I need to wee now.'
Charlie did know where the facilities were, as his father had taken him here many times before, for various events. As he got closer to the door, he could hear some strange noises.
He prized the door open with his little fingers. Through a gap of about an inch wide all he could see was his dad with Aunty Martha. She was sitting on the sink with her dress around her waist and his father’s trousers were around his ankles. His father was connected to his Mummy’s friend. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening but he knew that it wasn’t normal.
He let the door close and he wet himself.
Martha and Peter only had a moment to enjoy the post-coital embrace. They both knew they were ‘missing’ and that they must be seen by all that knew them soon. They kissed passionately unlike last time. It was different this time. It was if they had started something. It was as if they realised this desire was out of their control.
Peter got dressed hastily.
‘We can’t go down together. It will look suspicious. I’ll go down first and you come down after five minutes.’ Peter dressed hastily.
Martha agreed and they kissed once more before he left. She hopped down off the sink and enjo
yed the sexual hot flush that she was feeling. She looked down and began doing up her buttons.
She couldn’t see that Simon was now standing only a few feet away from her wielding a knife.
Peter got back to find Mae sternly quizzing their son. He could see that she was trying to tell him off but trying to control herself as they were out in public.
‘What’s going on? Leave the poor boy alone.’
Peter tried to pull the three of them away so as not to draw any attention to themselves.
‘Peter, the boy has wet himself. He is almost five and he has wet himself. I thought he had been here before? I thought he knew where the toilets were?’
Peter and Mae began a small tit for tat argument about whose fault it was that their son, who was now crying, had wet himself.
Around them, the party had begun. Everybody was dancing to Glenn Miller’s ‘In The Mood.'
David interrupted Peter and Mae’s squabble.
‘Has anyone seen Martha? I heard she was sick, but I can’t find her.’
At that moment, the music was switched off and a screeching could be heard from the changing rooms. The crowd began moving in every direction and various screams could be heard.
David ran towards the noise; somehow, he knew he had to. When he got to the changing room, he had to wade through the partygoers that had assembled around the door. He had to push through to see what he didn’t want to.
His Martha embroiled in a scene that could only resemble something from a horror. Blood everywhere. All over her, all over the floor, on the sink, on the tiles, on the mirror. He scooped up her lifeless body. The crowd around them gasped.
Peter had made his way in, insisting that Mae stay with the children. When he saw what David was seeing, he leaned down the other side of her and helped David hold her, the two of them, believing with the amount of blood loss, that she was dead.
Martha was alive when they got her to the hospital. Just.
She was rushed to theatre immediately. David, Peter and Mae had the agonising wait for news. David barely spoke, he just paced the corridor for what seemed like hours.
Cupidity Page 23