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A short story

by Esmond Tearle

Only Annie brings me flowers

They always say fate plays a part in life, but for me fate dealt a pretty bad hand. The things I did in the past sort of caught up with me, and I paid the price all right. Five years is a long time to lose, and when that gate slammed shut behind me, I was the happiest man on the planet.

I could never go back home, too many people in that little town wouldn't forget and I would have been less than welcome. I used my travel pass to get to a place I knew as a kid. I used to visit my aunt in the country and always loved it there. If I could have, I would have gone to live with her rather than live in that flat in a high rise block. Little wondered I got involved with the wrong people and ended up the way I did. I never meant to hurt anybody, we were only after the money, but that old fool wanted to play heroes and the job went pear shaped.

The train stopped at the little railway station. It was how I always remembered it; hanging baskets outside the waiting room, and old milk churns on the back of an old hand cart. I bet they hadn't moved in years. In fact, not much had changed from how I remembered the place all those years ago. The Railway Tavern was now a house, but the village seemed familiar. I carried my case and walked up the lane from the station towards the main street. The old cottages had gone, and there where modern brick houses in their place. Why do they have to spoil things? Money I suppose, big profits and so what if the take away the character of the village.

Luckily for me, the other pub was still there, and had obviously survived the passage of time. I opened the door to the bar, and the few haggard old faces inside the smoky old room looked at me and the place fell silent. They would have cleared the bar if they had an inkling of who I was, but they hadn't.

I ordered a pint and parked myself on a stool. The whispers started as they discussed who I was and why I was there. I was an invader in their sad little world. The face that didn't fit.

The barmaid if you could call her that, was friendly enough. In her fifties and right brassy. The body of a voluptuous mature woman crammed into the skin-tight outfit a teenager would wear. We chatted and I bought her a drink. Five years is a long time, and any port in a storm as they say. I bought a meal and she shared my chips, talk about pulling power. Anyway, the locals gradually wandered off, going back to their tractors no doubt and I stayed put at the bar.

Luckily the pub had a room to rent, next room to Annie's it was, funny that. She apparently ran the place on her own after her husband died. I booked myself in and planned to stay there for a while, to sort myself out a bit before moving on.

Annie was friendly all right. She even found me a few "jobs" to do in exchange for the room. We got on famously. She seemed as glad I was there as I felt to be there.

I spent hours in the bar, and gradually, the locals warmed to me a bit. Some were even civil. It seems that unless you were born in that village, you may as well have had two heads because they regarded you as an outsider.

After a while, Annie asked me to help behind the bar when things got a bit busy. Mainly weekends when they all poured in to spend their wages. A gaggle of sad old misfits, reeking of tobacco smoke. Weather beaten old faces huddled around a crib board. Life wasn't so bad I guess. Virtually free board and lodgings, free booze and a nice warm Annie into the bargain. I had known worse believe me.

I was working in the bar one night, when a pretty little thing came in and sat at the table in the corner. All alone she was, and nervous about the lecherous looks some of the lads were giving her. I went over to collect the glasses and asked if she was okay. She ordered a brandy, and I took it over to her. I made a point of smiling at her to reassure her that at least one person in the pub was friendly. Later, this well dressed bloke walks in and goes straight over to her table. Obviously older than she was, and I would have guessed he wasn't short of a few bob either. The cut of his suit said it all. He looked so out off place in that bar.

I often used to see them, usually at weekends when they stopped in for a drink. Sometimes they would sit outside if it was a nice day, and who can blame them. It turns out that they had moved into the old rectory and by all accounts, he was spending money on the place like it was going out of fashion. New roof, big new garage block, swimming pool and the like. One of the locals said he was something in the city, some big cheese that worked away during the week, and just came back at weekends.

Anyway, I was starting to feel settled until Annie decides she wanted a more permanent arrangement. Now that scarred me. She had her heart in the right place, and so were most other things, but at fifteen years my senior, that wasn't how I planned things to go. I told her the score and things got a bit tense after that. I had to be very careful as I didn't exactly have anywhere else to go, and strangely enough, I liked the village. It was the first place I regarded as my home.

I was on my own one Monday lunchtime as Annie had gone to the market and was getting a few bits and pieces, and as it was quiet as Mondays always are, I was left alone to take care of the pub. That's when young Sarah came in. We had always had a bit of a giggle together, except when her old man was with her, and today was no exception. She was asking if I knew anyone who did a bit of gardening to earn some extra cash, as they had neglected the garden, and she wanted to start getting it round to something more manageable, especially as the rectory was well under way.

I don't know why I did it, but I agreed to go and have a look when I closed up. Maybe it was her pretty face, but I went round to the Rectory to see what she wanted doing.

She invited me into the kitchen for a coffee. I have never before seen anything like it. All oak units, and with a massive big cooker set into the inglenook fireplace. Copper saucepans hanging from a rack above a big centre table. The walls were all tiled in old looking tiles, except they weren't old. Serious money I reckon.

Sarah gave me my coffee and brought a tray of biscuits. Nice an cosy it was.

We got talking, and I asked what the old man did. Commodities he dealt in. Meant little to me, but there was money in it for sure. She used to be his secretary, and it turns out he left his missus for Sarah. She was not shy when it came to telling me about her past. Now she leads a charmed life and is a good little housewife, taking care of the house and walking the dogs.

We went outside and I heard about her plans for the garden. Lawns, terraces, and a big stone patio around the pool. They wanted it all cleared first, and then the old man was going to get quotes from landscape gardeners. I could see an opportunity here, and told her that is what I used to do. She believed me and asked if I would be interested in doing the job if her old man approved.

I suggested she might like to discuss her plans in more detail and she seemed keen to enlighten me.

I went back to the pub before Annie was up the next day. She wasn't pleased and I got the grilling of a lifetime. I said I had been playing cards with a few of the boys and hoped she wouldn't quiz them to check my story.

I saw a fair bit more of Sarah from then on, funny how some women like a bit of rough. The money was all very nice, as was her lifestyle, but there were some things she obviously missed out on, and that was where I came in.

Sarah turned up at the pub one day, late afternoon, well after closing time. Annie and I weren't getting along and she had gone out with a girlfriend to do some shopping. I let her in and it was then that I saw the bruises. She didn't get them falling down the stairs like she said she did. It turned out that the old boy had suspected she was seeing someone and thought she should be taught a lesson. Lucky for him that he wasn't there, or he would have been having breakfast through a straw.

We sat there well into the early hours that night. Annie didn't seem to care what I was doing, and I could soon see me having to move on. I remember Sarah sobbing that she wished he were dead. It was as if we both realised that that could well be the answer. If he wasn't about, then she stood to inherit as he had changed his will to leave everything to her. All that remained was how it was to happen, but we knew it would have to be sooner rather than later.

The old man was due home as usual late on Friday evening. She always met him at the station, and drove him home. I figured that if she didn't turn up, then he would have to walk. There are no taxis in this neck of the woods, so he had no other option. The nights had been drawing in, and that meant he would walk back in the dark. I thought that if I could make it look like an accident, nobody would ever know, and Sarah could inherit and I would eventually adopt the lifestyle of a squire. Things were looking rosy.

The train was late arriving that evening; so it was probably quite feasible she would have got fed up and gone home without him, meaning he would have needed to walk back in the dark.

I sat in the car just up the lane from the station. No one would think twice about a strange motor as there were always cars parked there. I saw him leave the station, head down and walking quickly, swinging his bag. I touched the two wires together and the engine sparked into life. Easy does it and then I hit the throttle. He didn't even look back, and he just seemed to bounce off the bonnet. I got out and ran back, no movement. I had him.

I drove to where I had arranged to meet Sarah, and I pushed the car into a quarry about ten miles away. It floated and then just sank into the depths below. They wouldn't find that in a hurry. She dropped me near the pub and went home alone.

I did my best to carry on as normal and was busy pulling pints when the siren went past. Everyone rushed to the window to see what was going on. Then a second one, I remember for a second, the bar was full of blue light. Over an hour had passed since I started work behind the bar.

One of the locals came in later in the evening. Hit and run it was, the bloke from the Rectory has been killed. I wanted to go to Sarah, but I couldn't. She would be going through it right now, and would have to deal with the police. I was the last person to be seen there with her.

After a couple of days, I went to see her. It appears they were none the wiser. Didn't have a suspect, no witnesses, and basically nothing to go on. We had pulled it off.

A tragic accident they said, and the person responsible had never come forward.

After a few months, I left the pub, I was actually evicted by Annie, and I moved into the cottage next to the Rectory. Gardener and maintenance man you could say. Truth is, I was far more than that.

I couldn't help feel that the five years away were worth every minute as my new lifestyle was rather perfect. Needless to say, I never actually spend a night in the cottage.

Sarah grew to hate being alone in the house, always thought he was still there watching her, or watching us. She wanted everything gone that reminded her of him the clothes and the personal things were sent to a charity shop. His car had been sent back months ago. Just the old ones in the garage remained. She couldn't go in there. It was as if he was still around and it scarred her. I think that if he had died of natural causes, things would have been different. It was the way it had happened that she worried about. I didn't have a problem with that aspect; guilt is not a thing I know.

His passion had been his old cars. They were kept in his garage block under wraps.

I didn't care about the old cars. Nice, but not really my cup of tea. The Great Train Robbers used them for their job, but that was years ago when they were common place. Also, that copper on the television had one, but it did little for me. I wanted them gone as much as Sarah did, and the money wasn't really the issue. As long as we got something for them, then the next bloke could earn his bit.

They came with a lorry and trailer and took the red sports job and the Jensen, but the old black Daimler wouldn't start, so the plan was to come back within the week and take that, but they never did. I sat inside it and thought how nice it smelled. Leather seats and polished wood, a bit nice I thought. The aroma and the feel of that leather made my thoughts drift back to Annie, comfortable and very welcoming. I had to smile.

It was all a bit too much for Sarah, the pressure and the lies had become too great and she needed a rest. Her sister on the south coast asked her down to stay for a week. I was glad, as when she returned, it would be just the two of us and the old man would be gone for good. Nothing left to remind her, and we could get on with our lives.

I don't know why, but I went down the pub that night. A sort of celebration I guess. I had pulled it off, and got what I wanted. Sarah, and a life of luxury. Some people were well aware of what was going on, all a bit Lady Chatterley I suppose, but nobody ever had the bottle to say anything.

I left slightly the worse for wear at closing time. Annie was hardly going to invite me to stay for a lock in now was she?

I went outside and the cold hit me. My breath was steaming and the frost sparkled on the ground. It was a cold one for sure. I pulled my coat together and started to walk as a fast as I could to keep warm. I was not far from home when I heard a squeal of tyres. The pain was for a split second unbearable. Then it went and I felt so cold, so empty, and so calm. I could see myself just lying there in the ditch at the side of the road. I wanted to get out, but I couldn't. I saw myself and was detached from my body. I couldn't understand what was happening, was I dreaming?

I don't know what hurts the most now. Seeing that old black Daimler with its fresh paintwork where I hit it, or seeing Sarah with the old mans son. I can see them all of the time now, laughing. Laughing at me.

I wonder if they know I'm there, even if they don't see me. Why she did that to me I'll never know. I never even knew he had a son.

The one thing I can now understand, and it hurts me to see. Only Annie brings me flowers. I want to tell her not to worry, and not to get upset, but I can't. I can't even reach out to hold her hand, even though I'm standing next to her.

The black Daimler still sits in the garage. I see lover boy go into in there occasionally and he fires it up and gives it a polish. Never yet taken it out though. From the back seat I could easily distract him and no doubt cause something that would let me get my own back. I just need to be given that chance.

Until then, the only thing I have left to look forward to will be the day I'll meet Sarah again, in hell.