The Downfall Series Box Set

by Edie Baylis

  Seeing one of her colleagues give her the nod signifying she was at the end of her shift, Maggie was hardly able to contain her enthusiasm. Smiling nervously at the growing queue, she hopped from her till and hurried towards the cigarette counter.

  KEEPING HALF AN EYE on the door for Ben, Maggie settled into the corner at the Traveller’s Arms and sipped at her drink. She flicked through a magazine for something to do and hoped someone would be along shortly whom she could score some dope from. She needed something to stop her hands shaking.

  When the old chipped pub door was pushed open, Maggie glanced up, her stomach lurching as a man with blond dreadlocks walked in. Christ, she’d thought it was Zed for a second. She shook her head sadly. Any reminder of the past, however small, brought back memories of Jane.

  Feeling the usual pang of sorrow and regret when thinking about her best friend, she sparked up a cigarette and turned her pint around on the soggy beer mat.

  Even though she’d tried very hard not to dwell on the past, Jane was never far from her thoughts. Maggie still missed her desperately, even though it had been four years since everything had gone horribly wrong.

  Maggie had always struggled with her friend’s wild ways, but although she couldn’t brush her lifestyle and violence under the carpet, she’d still felt the need to be around her. Then she’d continued being terrified and worried as to what was going to happen. Jane’s fella had been half the problem. Seth and Jane had driven each other, keeping one another fuelled with madness.

  At the end when she hadn’t seen Jane for several weeks, she’d gone to their flat, only to find it completely deserted. She’d instinctively known something bad must have happened and she’d been correct.

  Jane had been arrested and was on remand for attempted murder. It seemed her and Seth had had yet another blazing row and she’d left him. As she’d driven off in a rage, she’d taken the opportunity to run down her ex.

  Maggie shuddered. Though Paul had given her the creeps and even taking into account all the things he’d done, she hadn’t believed he’d deserved to be purposefully mown down. He’d been lucky – he hadn’t died, but it was unlikely he’d ever walk again.

  Jane had driven straight from Paul to the police station where she’d parked up and waited. Maggie had never understood this. It had only made sense a week later when Digger had explained Seth was dead. Jane had only gone and fucking killed him.

  Maggie hadn’t believed it at first, but Digger assured her it was true. After all, he’d been the one to find Seth’s body.

  She presumed Jane would be done for murder as well as the attempted murder of Paul, but Digger had thought of that and taken the trouble of disposing of the body. Seth wouldn’t have wanted Jane to go down for him, he’d said. He loved her too much.

  Digger had put the story around town that Seth had been murdered by an unknown from the city and no one had questioned it. Everyone knew Seth dealt with the wrong type of people and that eventually it would catch up with him. Now it seemed that it had.

  No one suspected Jane. After all, she’d already got seven years for the attempted murder of Paul.

  Maggie sighed, feeling tears begin to prick. She knew Jane well enough to know she’d never get over Seth’s death.

  In town Maggie had felt like a spare part. She’d never been close to Eliza - who’d made no secret of wanting Seth for herself and she didn’t have any other close friends, so after several visits to the police station, she’d discovered which prison Jane had been sent to.

  Missing Jane desperately, Maggie had been determined to visit to keep her friend’s spirit up, but she’d never once had an answer to any of the letters she’d written. And she’d written plenty. Neither had she received any of the countless visiting orders she’d requested.

  Feeling extremely despondent from Jane’s dismissal of her, Maggie had thrown herself into an unreciprocated relationship with Zed.

  Feeling a lump form in her throat Maggie swallowed another gulp of her pint.

  After two months deciding she’d nothing to remain in town for, she’d thrown the towel in and moved away with Zed and the travellers. The trouble was Zed had clearly got bored because one day he’d disappeared and never returned - like everyone else. When the travellers moved on she hadn’t accompanied them. It wasn’t like she really knew any of them anyway.

  Falling into a deep depression, Maggie had ended up having even more of a meltdown, but thankfully had been given a cocktail of pills from the doctors, which had eventually worked. Well - worked enough to stop herself from drowning and with the addition of dope she could just about function.

  She hadn’t done badly considering she was stuck in a city miles from where she was used to and knew no one. After a couple of months of living in a hostel, she’d secured a little flat from the council. It was a dump, but better than nothing. She’d also got herself a job at the supermarket and had been there a year now. She’d even made a couple of friends.

  Yes, it had been a long few years since everything she knew had been left behind, but the less she thought about that the better. It had taken a long time, but she could now just about hold it together.

  Glancing at the nicotine-stained clock on the wall, Maggie wondered again as to whether Ben would put in an appearance. She eyed other potential candidates for her affections around the smoky tap room.

  Catching the eye of a dribbling geriatric with eyes pointing different ways, Maggie quickly looked away. Would she ever find a decent man?

  It seemed she was doomed to end up with ones who didn’t give a toss. She had so much love to give, but no one seemed to want it.

  ONE

  SALLY CURTIS WAS NERVOUS. Jim still wasn’t home and if he wasn’t back by this time it usually meant he’d got himself involved in something again or was drunk. Either way, it didn’t bode well. She wished she’d got something to drink, but there was no wine at all in the house. She could have gone down the shop and bought some, but if he’d turned up when she’d been out, he’d have gone mad.

  Wine was for sluts and whores, tramps and cheap fuckers. Why couldn’t she drink something ‘normal’ that didn’t make her look like a hooker?

  Sally rubbed her arm absentmindedly. At least the bruises were fading. She’d tried not to make Jim angry last week, but he always seemed to be angry whatever she did. Saying that, she’d rather have his anger than not have him at all, but just wished he felt a tenth of what she felt for him.

  Deep down Sally knew Jim didn’t love her at all, but even though he scared the living daylights out of her, he was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. She’d make him love her eventually. She had to.

  Chewing at her fingernail she wondered when the best time would be to broach the subject of her getting a job. Jim didn’t want her working, but she was bored being stuck in the house all day. It gave her too much time to think.

  Two years ago he’d walked confidently into the city bar where she’d been drinking with her workmates and casually scanned the room. Sally had admired his tall, well-built frame and felt herself go hot under the collar. Her workmates caught her ogling and nagged her to go and introduce herself.

  Sally hadn’t been sure whether it was the wine which had given her the newly-found confidence, or because if she hadn’t done something to alleviate the thunderous crashing of her heart, she’d have dropped dead. Either way, after necking the remains of her fifth glass of wine, she’d strolled up to the bar as sexily and confidently as she could manage and stood next to him, feeling his presence buzzing like an electrical charge.

  Waiting to be served she’d tried not to look at the man, but after a couple of minutes felt compelled to. She’d studied his thick dark-brown hair, closely cropped to the back of his neck and his strong jaw.

  Noticing him stare through her, she’d begun to lose her gusto and decided to order another bottle of wine and get straight back to the table. It was bad enough all her workmates were watching and waiting for something to
happen.

  Finally catching the eye of the barman, Sally had ordered another bottle of house wine.

  “Wine’s no good for you.” A deep voice had said from beside her. “Try vodka.”

  Swinging her head around, Sally had been floored by piercing emerald eyes and a shiver of anticipation had run through her. Trying to find some charm she’d smiled, “I don’t much like vodka.”

  The man had grinned, exposing straight white teeth which had accentuated the dimples visible under his sexy stubble. “Doubt it would suit you anyhow. Stick to your wine.”

  Sally had frowned at this strange response and when the man turned away and picked up his pint, it quickly dawned she was standing there with her fresh bottle like an idiot. Much to the dismay of her audience, she’d scuttled back to the table with a flush creeping up her face.

  Getting steadily drunker, Sally had forced herself to smile at the good-humoured digs from her colleagues who had observed she’d been unable to take her eyes off the handsome stranger. She’d never felt such an attraction to someone before and it had unnerved her.

  Even though the man hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction, she’d been distraught at the prospect of not seeing him again, so by the end of the night and a further bottle of wine, she’d made her decision. After all, the worst he could have done was to tell her to get lost.

  As her workmates had drunkenly stumbled giggling towards the door, Sally had hung back and before she’d lost her nerve she’d approached the man. Looking as seductive as possible she’d put her hand on his arm.

  “Well,” she’d purred in what she’d hoped was an alluring voice and flicked her blonde hair suggestively. “Do you fancy a drink at mine?” Oh God. Had she really said that?

  Amusement had flashed across the man’s face, but his eyes had remained cold. Picking up his pint, he’d taken a gulp without moving his steely gaze. “I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” he’d growled.

  Refusing to be fobbed off, Sally had smiled. “Oh, but you are...”

  The man had shrugged, “As you wish.”

  THE TAXI RIDE TO SALLY’S one-bedroomed house had been conducted in complete silence and as she’d scrutinised the man staring uninterestedly out of the window, she’d begun to think it was a really bad idea. She hadn’t even known his name for God’s sake. What the hell had she been doing?

  Letting herself into the house with the man following, her heart had been in her mouth. What was she going to do now?

  Sally had flicked the hallway light on and turned to face him. “So, what would you like to drink?”

  The man had smiled coldly. “Thought you wanted to fuck?”

  Sally had stepped back in shock at his words. “I-I...”

  Moving forwards, he’d quickly slipped her top over her shoulders and before she’d had time to properly register anything, he’d expertly unclipped her bra with one hand. As her large breasts were exposed, the man had circled one nipple with his calloused thumb, turning it rapidly into a hard, aching point.

  “OH!” Sally had gasped, falling unsteadily against the wall whilst his hand slipped underneath her skirt, his fingers skimming over the lace of her knickers. Her head had spun with confusion whilst waves of desire flooded her. She’d wanted to reach for him, but had been unable to contemplate anything but total surrender.

  Ripping away her knickers, the man’s fingers had plunged into her, making her cry out in both shock and pleasure. She’d found herself involuntarily moving her hips. “Oh God,” she’d groaned.

  Determined to have some form of contact, she’d reached for his hair, her fingers touching the thick, silky waves on the top of his head, but he’d pushed her hand away. Quickly turning her around he’d shoved her towards the stairs, his fingers working deep inside her.

  Leaning with her arms on the third step, Sally had felt horribly self-conscious, the overpowering sensations making her legs tremble.

  Suddenly the man had stopped. Scared to move, she’d heard him unzipping his jeans and a condom packet tearing. “I-I...” she’d stuttered.

  “Be quiet!” he’d growled, putting a hand on the small of her back and lifting her hips.

  As he plunged into her, Sally had nearly fallen head-first with the force of his entrance and she’d cried out loudly as his cock had filled her. Desperate for release, she’d pushed backwards.

  “Stay still!” the man had roared, holding her restless hips rigid as he’d thrust in long hard strokes.

  Rotating his hips, his cock had repeatedly pushed against a place deep within her she hadn’t realised existed and she’d cried out with desperation.

  The man’s thrusts had grown faster and the first climax Sally had ever experienced from sex alone thundered through her. “Stop, stop!” she’d gasped, her knees buckling as he’d continued thrusting relentlessly.

  “You want me to stop?” the man had whispered, driving hard.

  “Oh God, no!” she’d panted, unable to comprehend what was going on. “No, don’t stop!” Sweat had dripped from her face as she’d climaxed for the second and third time.

  After orgasming for the fourth time, Sally had felt slightly delirious. When he’d pulled out she’d collapsed onto the stairs. Turning over, she’d looked at the man who’d just given her the most intense ride of her life and watched him whip the empty condom from his still hard and very large cock.

  “You haven’t come yet,” Sally had panted breathlessly. “Here, let me.” Reaching forward, her hand was stopped. Any idea she’d had of post-coital kissing and cuddling went out of the window when the man smiled and headed towards the front door.

  On shaky legs, she’d pushed herself to her feet, pulling her skirt down over her exposed flesh. “Where are you going?”

  “Somewhere else...”

  “But when will I see you again?” She’d been more than aware she’d sounded desperate, but couldn’t get her head around any of it.

  “Listen,” the man had muttered, “I’m not good for you.”

  “But I want you to stay,” she’d whined.

  He’d shrugged. “As you wish.” Sitting on the sofa, he’d kicked off his boots, but made no further attempt to touch or speak to her.

  Although that night they’d shared a bed, there had been no further intimacy and in the morning, having woken already aching for the nameless man beside her, she’d run her hand over the ridges on his stomach. She’d been promptly pushed off and flipped over, where a repeat of the previous night ensued. Again, he’d pleasured her several times, but remained unspent himself.

  “That was fantastic!” Sally had gasped, reaching for him.

  Ignoring her, the man had got out of bed and pulled his jeans on. “I’ve got places I need to go.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  “If you need me to,” he’d muttered, shrugging on his shirt.

  “Don’t you want to?” she’d whimpered, confused.

  “It makes no difference to me,” he’d replied impassively.

  Trying not to look as hurt as she’d felt, Sally had smiled. “Well, I’d like you to.”

  Nodding curtly, the man had let himself out of the house.

  THE FRONT DOOR SUDDENLY slamming snapped Sally from the memories of the night she’d met Jim and she rushed quickly to the kitchen to fetch him a beer. Padding softly down the hall, she watched him dump a bag of tools on the carpet and sling his jacket messily over the bannister.

  “Hello darling,” Sally said brightly, holding out the can. She tried to judge what sort of mood he was in and how drunk he was, but he hadn’t even glanced in her direction. Following him into the lounge, she watched him flop on to the sofa.

  Pushing Sally away as she placed her hand on his shoulder, Jim grabbed the can of beer and glared at her. She sighed. In the two years since they’d met he was still completely indifferent to her presence. He’d fuck her every morning and evening, but had never, ever kissed her. When asked why he always gave the same response. The p
ast is done.

  Well, Sally had no clue about Jim’s past. Nothing. She didn’t even know how old he was for Christ’s sake, but guessed he was in his thirties. She knew it was strange, but she’d put up with it, convinced he’d open up, but as the weeks had rolled into months and then into a year and now two, nothing at all had changed.

  Sally watched Jim picked up the television’s remote control before gently taking it from him. “I want to talk to you about something.”

  Eyes flashing, he grabbed the control and threw it angrily on the floor. “What the fuck do you want to talk about?” he roared. “That’s all you ever want to do. Talk, talk, fucking talk!”

  Sally paled, not wishing to incite him further, but she needed to broach the subject of a job. “I’ve been thinking,” she murmured. “I think I should get a job.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he took a swig of the can. “And why’s that?”

  “Well,” Sally began, regaining a bit of confidence. At least he hadn’t dismissed it. “I’m fed up being at home. I was working when you met me Jim, so I thought I should do something again. I’ve been living off the money you earn long enough.”

  “And where were you thinking of working?”

  “Oh I don’t know. Perhaps one of the clothes shops in town?” she smiled. This was going better than expected.

  “Which town?”

  “Here of course!” Sally laughed.

  Tipping the rest of the can quickly into his mouth, Jim sparked up a cigarette. “That’s fine, but I’m moving at the weekend.”

  Sally tried to read his face. “Moving? We can’t just move Jim!”

  “I can do what the fuck I want. Besides, I’m happy for you to remain here.”

  Panic set in. “What you do you mean? Where are we moving to?”

  Jim sneered, throwing the empty can across the room and pushed himself off the sofa. “What the fuck has that got to do with you?”

  “I’m your girlfriend,” Sally whimpered, tears forming in her eyes.