A Dangerous Promise

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Jan sensed someone had been in the house even as she opened the door. She stood tense for a moment, "Is anyone there?" There was no reply and she squared her shoulders. She must stop being afraid of shadows. It was a month since the break in. Summoning up her courage she made her way to the kitchen where she put the milk saucepan beside the coffee jug and pulled up the stool, she needed several cups to reassure her.

An answer machine sat on the work top beside a mobile phone. Where in the world had they come from? Of course Steve! It was his after shave she had smelt as she entered the house. The red light on the answer phone blinked, she pressed the button.

"Jan it's Steve. I hope you won't think I'm interfering but I'm worried

about you. Keep the mobile by you even in bed and if you need me ring -

whatever the time."

Her spirits lightened. Dear Steve, how could she be cross with him? Tomorrow

she would ring and thank him she owed him so much. It would be easy to take

all he offered if only he understood about Diane. Jan and her half sister had

shared so many years, no matter how far away or how many years between, she had to be there for her.

Her thoughts flew to the parcel her half sister Diane had asked her to hide. If only she could find her and give it back. In the note with the parcel Diane said she would come and collect it but there had been no message since. Not even a telephone call. The note had no address.

As she poured out her second cup, she heard a noise, stealthy footsteps scrunching on the gravel of the garden path. Her nerve ends pnckled she held her breath. There it was again someone creeping round the house. She reached for the phone, pulled out the aerial tapped in Steve's number. Then a scratching of someone trying to put a key in the lock changed her fear to anger causing her temper to flare.

Only Steve, her ex husband had a key. He had changed the locks after she told

him she had a break in. So much for good intentions, he had promised not to

come unannounced. He must be drunk too since he couldn't get his key in the

door. She put the phone down and flung open the door. "If you think this

entitles..." She stopped and reeled backwards, her mind rejecting what her eyes were telling her.

The hooded figure forced his way passed her. "Didn't anybody never tell you

not to open the door to a stranger," he sniggered.

"What do you want?"

"Don't give me that, you know, why else would you change the locks?"

"The break in, was it you?"

"Break in? I didn't break in, what break in? I lifted the key from your neighbour's shed. I was going to use it again but like I said you've changed the bleeding locks."

Jan had left her key with her neighbour, Mrs Atkins, so she could let her

cleaner in. Unfortunately Mrs Atkins saw no harm in leaving keys in the garden

shed when she went to the shops. "It's quite safe", she said. "My gardener is there most of the day and anyway this is a nice area we don't get burglars."

Jan backed up to the kitchen table. "I don't keep much money in the house and

I haven't anything of value", she began.

"Don't play games with me." He waved a knife in her face.

She felt her knees turn to water, she remembered the newspaper item headed

"Unidentified woman raped at knife point."

"You", she gasped, "the body in the ditch."

"I didn't kill the silly bitch. How was I to know she'd snuff it? Anyway she hadn't got it so you must 'ave."

His words made no sense. She tried to remember all she had read about rapists. Don't show fear, easy to say but difficult to follow. She was terrified, her throat was dry. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound would come.

She must try to keep him talking. "What had she got?"

"Who?"

"The woman you killed."

"Oh that silly cow. As if you didn't know. Look I don't want to hurt you so do as you're told."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"OK you want it the hard way." He ran the knife down the front of her blouse, the point drew blood.

Her blouse fell open. She clenched her fists, inside she was silently screaming.

He cut through her bra, "Pretty tits shame if you lost them."

Terror lent her strength. The lesson's taught in self defence classes spurred her. She wouldn't be an assenting victim. She made a grab for the top of his hood. He jerked his head back the hood came away in her hand. His was a face she would never forget, one cheek was twisted by a scar running the whole length.

"That was a stupid thing to do" he snarled. "Now I'm going to have to kill you. Still I've often wondered what it would be like but first we'll have some fun. And then you can tell me where you've hidden it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Cold seeped through her as she

realised it was the parcel Diane had sent her - it could only mean...

"Take off the rest." He gestured to her skirt. She didn't move.

"You can take 'em off yourself or I'll do it."

She was still trying to cope with the horrible truth. "You're going to kill me anyway what difference does it make?"

"There's quick death and slow death."

He lunged at her with the knife, she dodged, grabbed the phone and threw it catching him a glancing blow at the side of the head.

His face contorted with rage as he came for her again.

She reached behind her not moving. He was aiming the knife at her pelvis his head bent. There was sickening crack as she brought the coffee pot down on his head. He sank to his knees, blood ran down the side of his face. He looked up at her his face registering shock. Before he recovered his balance she dropped the broken pot and picked up the saucepan. She crashed it down on him. With a whimper he fell to the floor.

She stood with the pan in her hand. He moved in an attempt to rise. That slight movement gave impetus to her terror and she hit him again, again, again.

"Jan for God's sake!"

She hadn't heard the door open. Steve took the pan from her hand. She was shaking as if she had the ague.

He held her in his arms, "It's all right, it's over." he murmured.

"Is he dead?"

"Go and get us both a drink I'll attend to him."

Obediently she went to the cupboard and stood before it unable to focus. Steve

bent over the intruder. "He's still breathing." He stood up and reached over

her to take the gin and two glasses from the cupboard. "Have a drink and after

I've gone lock up. I'll get rid of this", he poked the prostrate youth with

his toe, "and get back as quick as I can."

She swallowed the gin before running to the sink to vomit. She retched again and again. Steve held her forehead, wiped her mouth with his handkerchief.

When the attack subsided Steve turned back to the intruder. He removed his boots and his jeans and used scar face's own knife to cut the jeans into strips which he used to tie his ankles and wrists. "Now turd you will keep."

He picked Jan up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, laying her tenderly on the bed before fetching a cloth from the bathroom to bathe her cuts. "They're just scratches. I'll make you a coffee before I go."

She reached out and clung to him. "Oh Steve," she murmured "if you hadn't

come- you'd have a body on your hands. When I heard over the phone- I felt sick with fear for you. I drove like a madman but I have to hand it to you. I'd have never believed you could stand up to someone like him. Why did you let him in?"

"I thought it was you. Oh Steve I don't deserve you."

"No you don't." His smile took the sting from his words. "Shall I call your neighbour?"

"No I'll be all right. Just lock up when you go." It was a lie. She would never be all right again.

She heard Steve moving about downstairs and wished he didn't have to go. Suppose her attacker died? She would be charged with murder. And it was murder, fear had driven her to the first blow but then? What drove her to strike again and again?

It was an old cliché that non of us know what we are capable of. She recalled an argument they had had sitting in the London flat where they had lived with her sister Diane and her boy friend Nick. There had been a murder trial, the victim an erring wife. The defence of provocation had been accepted.

Steve had voiced his approval, Nick had opposed him saying, "Get real, she was only having a bit on the side she didn't deserve to die."

Diane suggested the woman's mistake was being found out. Then Jan had believed only an evil person or a madman could kill, that no matter how angry, a normal human being would not kill.

Steve had the final word with, "Given the right circumstances we are all capable of murder."

She was still shuddering when Steve brought the coffee. "It's black I hope that's okay? You are out of milk."

She took the mug from him but her hand shook coffee splashed over her. His hand covered hers holding the mug steady. "Don't go to pieces now Jan, it's over."

Tears welled in her eyes, "Supposing he dies?"

"I'll dump him in the canal, he doesn't deserve a burial."

"Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"

"Quicker if I take him to hospital. Are you sure you will be all right?"

Jan nodded although she felt far from all right. "Come back soon."

"You can depend on it. Try to sleep."

She couldn't sleep. There was blood and milk on the kitchen tiles and on the cupboard. She pulled on her jeans and made her way downstairs. When Steve returned she was still on her knees scrubbing the floor with a nail brush.

"He isn’t dead and he's not about to lay a complaint. I told the nurse I found him in the road. So suppose you tell me what it's all about."

"I can't I promised."

"Jan, Diane is dead."

"I know. The body in the ditch was hers."

"So what has she left with you?"

"It’s in the chimney in the top bedroom."

He picked her up and settled her in a chair in the living room before climbing the stairs. Jan waited hardly caring what he would do. She had loved her sister too well and trying to protect her had led to this.

Steve returned his face set in grim lines. "What the hell was she doing with this?" He held the automatic pistol in his hand.

"I don't know. I think she was blackmailing someone. What are you going to do with it?"

"Make sure there are no fingerprints and send it to the police. Let them sought it out. Diane is dead whatever they discover can't hurt her now."

There was nothing to link her to Diane. They didn't have the same name.

"I have to claim her, bury her."

"Listen, Diane battened on to you since she was three. Now you are free. If you are to survive you must forget her and what happened here today."

Was Steve right? Did her survival depend on letting Diane go to an unidentified grave? Jan shook her head. There was more to survival than blotting out the past. In the end she had to live with herself and her grief. Come what may she would stand beside Diane's grave.

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Joan Mary Fulford
Fulord Consulting Ltd
West Bridgford
Nottingham NG2 5GF

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162 Edward Road
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Nottingham, NG2 5GF


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