by T J Harris
Williams, 38, a physiotherapist in Cinderford, started the league two years ago and is very keen to expand its membership…
Just as it would to DI Carver months later, the word physiotherapist jumped out of the screen. Tony rushed upstairs to Helen’s study and quickly found her medical folder, neatly filed in her cabinet. He opened it and the very top sheet of paper was a receipt for the last months worth of therapy on her knee. The name at the top of the page was indeed Sean Williams MCSP.
“Got you, you bastard.” shouted Tony, his voice almost manic. He carefully replaced the folder and returned downstairs.
He didn’t sleep that night. Instead he contemplated his options, his whiskey fuelled mind ricocheting between rage, retribution, anguish and despair. By the morning, however, he had determined to win Helen back. He was not going to confront her or even let her know that he had any suspicions. He didn’t want the rest of their lives together to be tainted by this blip in their happiness, this one mistake.
He needed to be able to keep an eye on what was happening but couldn’t risk her finding out that he knew. He carefully cleaned the evidence of his snooping from his own computer. The following lunchtime he popped into town and bought a cheap laptop in Currys. He paid cash but the woman at the till had insisted on taking a name and address for the warrantee. He didn’t want any paperwork coming to the house. He was about to make up an address when he suddenly thought of the physio. He smiled at the woman and quoted his rival’s name and address, not giving it another thought.
Over the subsequent few weeks, Tony made a real effort to be the perfect husband. He emptied the dishwasher when he found it full of clean dishes rather than ignoring it and putting his breakfast bowl in the sink. He made time for her, surprised her with meals out and spontaneous gifts. She seemed to respond but the messages continued and if anything became more regular and increasingly graphic.
He resolved to try and find out more about his rival. Instead of playing golf, he would spend the evening hidden in the thick bushes at the back of William’s house, sneaking in from the sports centre car park and across the playing fields. Out of sight, he managed to hack into the man’s home WiFi. It was ridiculously easy, the fool had used his birthday as the password. His date of birth had been on the title deed for the house.
There was nothing of much interest on the man’s computer. Tony hived off his banking details and some other documents for a rainy day, but then a thought occurred to him. If Helen was as nosy with this computer as she was with his, perhaps he could leave her a few clues of his own.
Over the following few weeks, he took his lunch breaks in town, using café WiFi hotspots to surf the web for more and more perverted and disturbing content. Every now and again he would visit the playing field, hide in the bushes that Williams had planted at the bottom of his small garden and copy the history files and images onto the man’s home computer. He even paid cash in a sex shop for a couple of DVDs, which he ripped on the little laptop before copying those files across too. The shop also sold rope, harnesses and all manner of leather and latex toys. Tony bought some rope. He was not sure what for, but though he might be able to plant it somewhere incriminating.
All his hard work seemed to be having no impact at all though. He did feel that he and Helen were getting on very well, as if nothing was wrong, but she was still claiming she had to go away on business a lot. When he checked the messages, they continued to tell a different story.
He decided to make a big thing of their anniversary. It was coming up in just a few weeks. He started to talk about them going away somewhere romantic, bringing back brochures for them to look through. He eventually talked her into a weekend away in the Lake District. He commissioned the silver necklace and was determined to show her that he could be just as exciting as her new toy-boy.
He honestly thought the weekend had done the trick. When they made love on the island, she looked at him with pure love in her eyes. He was sure that would be the end of the whole sorry episode.
He was devastated when he spied the message she had left for Williams the following Monday.
Back from the Lakes and dying to see you. Get some rest because I need a damn good seeing to!!!
He could not believe what he was reading. Over the week, they messaged each other, agreeing to a rendezvous on the Thursday morning. He could hear Helen tapping away at her laptop upstairs and logged in using the little red machine. A new draft popped up during a lull in the typing. He opened it and saw the arrangement to meet at the Speculation car park. He quickly changed the text to read New Fancy and re-saved the draft message.
He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do that morning, even when he quickly got dressed and jumped in his car to follow Helen to the Forest. He did not need to follow her closely as he knew where she was going. Out of habit he took the country lanes through Drybrook, unaware that his choice would prevent his car being spotted by the ANPR system at Ross.
He parked in a lay-by close to New Fancy car park and walked through the trees. He was just planning to check that she was there, before heading up to the Speculation car park to confront Williams. He had it in his mind to beat the man to a pulp. He had the rope with him; maybe he would tie him up. He had even fantasised about strangling him, then leaving a porn film playing on the laptop to make it look like he had died of autoerotic asphyxiation. The thought had not lasted long. He was a fit man and besides, Tony’s own prints and DNA would be all over the laptop.
Crouched in the bushes at the edge of the small car park, he watched Helen apply her make-up using the rear view mirror. When she was finished, she seemed to look round, checking for onlookers, then got out of the car. He ducked down to ensure she would not see him. She opened the rear door, then paused to look around once more. There was nobody else there. She hoisted her skirt up and wriggled as she removed her panties then got into the rear seat and closed the door.
That action was too much for Tony. Before he could help himself he was on his feet marching towards the car. He grabbed the handle with his gloved hands and wrenched the door open. Helen looked up, initially with a smile on her face. The look quickly turned to disappointment. The look pushed Tony over his tipping point. Time slowed and his vision blurred except for her face. He balled his fist and struck her as hard as he could, catching her on her cheekbone. She lolled to the side and he jumped in after her. The rope, which had been in his pocket, was somehow in his hands and he wrapped it round her neck and pulled. Her head and shoulders simply pulled up towards him. He brought his right knee up and forced it into her back, between her shoulder blades and tried again. He pulled with all his strength, pouring all his anger and all his hurt into the rope until his own arms shook with exhaustion. She hardly struggled at all. Eventually his rage subsided, he slackened the rope and the realisation of what he had done started to creep into his conscious mind. He let go the rope and got out of the car. Panicking now, he looked around. The car park was still deserted, but it was after seven and it would not be long before someone else arrived to walk their dog or take a morning jog before work.
Thinking fast, he got back into the car, found her panties and carefully put them back on, before sitting her back up in the seat. He looked at her sat there and the little silver knot necklace glimmered in the early morning sun. It had become a symbol to him for winning her back, but had become a talisman for his failure. He gripped it in his hand and yanked it off her neck, the clasp breaking at the back.
He stuffed it in his pocket, then carefully shut the door and checked he had not dropped anything before making his way back to the lay-by and his own car. He drove back home, again sticking to the country roads and being very careful not to break any speed limits or draw attention to himself. Nobody saw him return. He bagged up his cloths before showering and heading off to work. He dropped the bag with his cloths in a large bin outside a farm on the way to Hereford.
In his office he used the laptop to edit the last few day’
s draft messages making it look like Helen had wanted to end the affair, before hiding it away with the necklace behind a cistern panel in the office toilets.
Sat in the canoe on the lake, Tony realised his knees were numb and he was shivering slightly despite the warmth of the day. He reached into the rucksack for the last time and took out the silver knot necklace. He held it up in the sunlight and admired the craftsmanship. It was a shame but it had to go. He held it over the water and opened his hand allowing it to slip away with a small splash.
He sighed, reached for the paddle and headed back towards the shore.
Author’s Notes
Thank you for reading The Silver Knot, I hope you enjoyed it and found it interesting. I wanted to say a few words about the plot, especially the energy crisis aspects.
All the data used in the book is true to the best of my research and comes from publically available, reputable sources. It is well known that the current nuclear power stations in the UK are reaching the end of their lives and that the Government has committed to closing all the coal fired power stations by 2025. Industry experts have confirmed that 60% of the current UK generating capacity will therefore close by 2030. I used the National Grid’s Future Energy Scenarios document published in July 2015 to get the predicted demand levels for 2030 and the proposed energy mix at that time. The rest is simple arithmetic.
So the message is straightforward. Be efficient with your use of energy. If you can, put some solar panels on your roof. Don’t complain about wind farms or solar fields being built and don’t worry about new nuclear reactors in your area. We need them all.
Thanks again for reading.