by Marcus Alden
‘What do you mean it’s yours?’ Sarah’s face showed her confusion. She looked back to the house and then back at Dan.
‘It’s very simple; it was my grandfather’s house and now it’s mine.’
‘You mean to say this house is yours? You own all of this?’ Sarah looked again.
‘Well, that and a few million pounds,’ Dan said.
‘What the hell?’ Sarah spluttered. ‘I mean––,’ She paused. ‘This is not a joke?’ Dan shook his head with a smile on his face.
‘No, I’m being serious. This house is mine; I couldn’t have done it without you. But there are two more surprises.’
‘More, how can there be more surprises? You’ve just told me you’re a millionaire,’ Sarah said in disbelief.
‘Turn around Sarah,’ Dan said as he reached into his pocket. Sarah looked even more confused. ‘Do you like it?’ Sarah looked at the green car parked next to them. ‘It’s the same as your one that blew up, only brand new and this one doesn’t squeal,’ Dan said.
‘You mean you bought this car for me?’ Dan nodded and handed Sarah the keys.
‘Oh Dan, what can I say? Thank you so much.’ Sarah tried to take it all in.
‘And I know how much your Nana’s house means to you so I’d like to help you restore it,’ Dan said.
‘Absolutely, I just don’t know what to say Dan. I never expected to be able to live there,’ Sarah said. Her eyes were teary.
‘Wait, there’s one more thing. I do have a question I want to ask you.’ Dan took hold of Sarah’s hand and knelt down on one knee in the grass. She looked at him as confused as ever.
‘Sarah.’ Dan paused and looked up into her eyes. ‘Will you do me the honour—.’ Dan cleared his throat. ‘The honour of helping me to decorate?’
‘I should have known you were messing around.’ Sarah slapped his hand away and laughed. ‘I was really questioning what I should say then. A couple of seconds more and I might have cracked!’
‘So, will you, decorate, that is?’ Dan stood back up and shook the dirt off his jeans. ‘The whole place needs work; it hasn’t been looked after for years. I want to start a social enterprise, maybe organic farming. There’s so much to do and having someone creative would be—.’ Sarah drew nearer to Dan. She kissed him for the second time.
‘Yes to the decorating and farming, the proposals will have to wait.’
Epilogue
The metal hatch in the door slid open. The prison guard stared into the dark cell toward Atmore. Atmore was leant against the wall and fiddled with a stray thread from his prison issued top. The hatch shut. The door clanged open and the guard stepped back out of the way. A man with tape over his mouth was pushed into the cell. The man made indistinct noises as he fell to the floor. Atmore looked down at him. Though he could not see the man in detail, Atmore could tell the man wore the same prison clothing as he did. Footsteps entered the cell and the door closed behind them.
‘Light,’ a voice called out. The cell flickered with blinding light.
‘It’s about time,’ Atmore said to his assistant who held a bag.
‘Things took a bit longer than expected.’
‘No matter, I’ve had time to think. Who’s he?’ asked Atmore as he pointed to the bound man on the floor.
‘Your replacement,’ the assistant said. Atmore moved over to the man who faced the floor. Atmore pulled the man’s head back and stared him in the eyes.
‘Quite a good likeness,’ Atmore said. He dropped the man’s head back down. The prisoner made a smothered yell. The assistant placed the bag onto the bed and reached into it; he pulled out a knife. Atmore stood up. The assistant put on a pair of latex gloves and walked back to the replacement who lay on the floor. ‘No, let me do it,’ Atmore said. ‘Give me some gloves.’
‘Get up.’ The assistant kicked the man on the floor. The bound man stumbled to his feet and faced Atmore. The man saw the knife as it struck him in the stomach; he let out a muted scream. Atmore pulled the knife out and punctured him again. Blood spattered his grey prison garb. The man fell back to the floor.
Atmore’s assistant removed the tape from the man’s mouth and unbound his hands. The assistant held out a plastic bag for Atmore to drop the bloodied gloves and knife into.
‘From this moment on Robert Atmore is dead and you are a free man. Put those clothes in there.’ The assistant gestured to the bag and then tapped on the door for the guard. ‘The helicopter is waiting, I’ll be outside.’ The cell door opened.
Atmore took off his stained prison clothes and rolled them into a ball. He changed into the fresh suit and shirt his assistant had picked for him. Atmore tumbled his prison clothes into the bag and picked it up. He walked towards the doorway and looked back into the cell. The billionaire saw the wounded man on the floor. Blood bubbled from the innocent man’s mouth.
‘Light,’ Atmore called out as he left the cell. The door shut behind him.