Abbie's Gift (24 page)

She didn’t know this guy, or anything about him, and she didn’t know where exactly she was going to be taken either. Did he just want friendship, or did he hope for something else?

And did she welcome the idea of something else?  She was unsure and confused about that also.

There was no way of contacting Michael to call it off.  God, she thought, why did I agree to this? She realised that being polite and thinking of others had got her into this predicament.

As the evening got darker, the rain began to come down heavily, rattling the roof of the caravan; this gave her a secure and safe feeling, being protected inside somewhere nice and cosy.

After several hours of deliberating on and off, both her mind and heart were telling her not to go with Michael this evening, and it forced her into making a decision, the only one she could make: she could not go. Sure, he would be unhappy, let down, stood up or whatever, but she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want; she would not go with him, and that was that.

Just after 7 pm Abbie put on her coat and hat and went out to the front of the shop to wait for him to arrive. She ran down the path holding her hood up to stop herself getting wet; the evening wasn’t as cold as she’d expected, but the rain was lashing down in torrents and bouncing off the pavements. She sheltered in the shop doorway, again feeling pangs of unfairness at letting him down, but she had to be true to herself.

At precisely 7.15 pm, a dark car approached the kerb where she stood, its headlamps piercing the darkness and gloom like two cat’s eyes. The car was long and sleek, and Abbie was unsure of the make; it was almost silent with not a hint of engine noise. Despite the rain, its paint glistened in the light reflected by the street lamp overhead. The rain was so heavy she couldn’t make out the person behind the window. She thought of going to the car, but that meant a soaking while standing out in the rain and explaining her decision. After a moment, the nearside window went down, and she saw that Michael was looking directly at her. He didn’t beckon her to join him, as she would have expected. She knew by the look in his eye that he was not happy; he knew that that she had no intention of going with him. He continued to look at her through the rain. For some reason again Abbie felt unable to break from his gaze.

“I’m sorry” she shouted through the rain, shaking her head, “I’m sorry”.

The window of the car went back up and the car glided away silently into the wet night.

Chapter 15

As he drove away, tears began to roll down Michael’s face as he knew he had fallen for her. She just did not want to spend any time with me, he said to himself.

He licked his lips, recalling the moment when he’d experienced the cool soft texture of her skin as he’d kissed her hand earlier in the day.

Abbie turned to go back to the caravan feeling very out of sorts.  Passing the shop side entrance a door opened, and Simon beckoned her to come in out of the rain. Once inside she removed her hood and hat. He looked at her, ‘‘Are you OK?” he said, “You look stressed”

“Yes, I’m alright thanks; it’s no big deal, just me being stupid. I saw Michael again this morning and he asked me out this evening and I agreed, but over the day I became so uneasy about it that I couldn’t go. I didn’t want to not turn up, so I went to meet him, and nothing was said but he just knew. I guess I’ve really upset him”.

“Look, come in and take off your wet coat and get dry a bit, I’ll make you a drink.”

Simon turned and Abbie followed him into a kitchen/diner that was warm and dry.  She felt wetter than she probably was; her trouser bottoms damp against her legs, making her skin feel cool.

Abbie took off her coat and Simon took it from her; as he did so, she noticed him looking at her, and for a moment she felt naked before him.  She put her arms around herself and sat down at the table.

“Dad’s upstairs” he said, “he often goes up about this time, watches his own telly and reads, he enjoys his own space”.

“How old is he?” Asked Abbie.

“78 now, and struggling with his memory for the past few years, but he still insists on working every day; he says it keeps him going, but I say get a hobby!”

Abbie smiled.

“A drink?”

“Yes please”.

“Something hot or something a bit stronger?”

“Oh, stronger if you’re offering” she replied.

Simon produced a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses, handing one to Abbie.

“Cheers”, he said

She smiled and lifted her glass in acknowledgment.

“That’s nice” she said as the warm fruity liquid passed over her palate. “This whole afternoon was a bit freaky” she continued. “I remembered what you said about being careful and you thinking he wasn’t trustworthy, and I realised I couldn’t go with him. I see now in the end it was all about trust, and I didn’t have it for him, he was just trying to be too nice to me all the time in a false way”.

Simon smiled at her, “well you’re safe now and that’s in the past, he won’t pester you again”.

“He didn’t really pester me. I only met him a few times either on the road or in the café, but he always seemed to be in the places where you didn’t expect him to be. Like this morning when I left you and went for a walk, and he was down by the garden when I got there.  He can’t walk that fast, maybe he was in his car, I don’t know, but it was all a bit odd”.

“You know what is odd?” said Simon,

“What?” she asked.

“That guy, Michael, he told you he came here every year?  Well, I’m telling you I’ve seen him before, and this is a small community, you remember people that you see year on year, and let’s be honest in his clothes he does kind of stand out. As there is never really anybody else here this time of year I’m sure I’d have remembered him. Don’t worry about him though; you probably won’t see him again”. Simon raised his glass to Abbie, and this time she lifted her glass to his, smiling.

Abbie sat quietly looking into her glass, and Simon watched her.  He sat back in his chair, again recalling the image of her nakedness in the garden. He felt a pang of guilt, but he was not a peeping tom, after all; he had only gone outside before going to bed as Jess was missing as sometimes happened.  He hadn’t shouted as he hadn’t wanted to disturb Abbie in case she had been asleep. At the bottom of the garden, he’d heard a noise, thinking it was Jess he had looked through the hedge, only to see her come along the path from the field. Simon had been shocked; the last thing he expected to see was Abbie, especially unclothed. He had been transfixed and unable to look away; he even thought that she would hear his heartbeat, as it pounded so loud in his chest, yet she had been unaware of his presence as she looked up at the stars.

When he’d got back to the house Jess had been on the step.  Although he’d tried to sleep it had taken him a long time, as he couldn’t get the image of Abbie’s beautiful body out of his head.

Abbie broke the silence,

“It’s my last day tomorrow, I have to go home sometime, but as it is I don’t really want to, I’m enjoying it here”.

“Then stay a bit longer if your time’s your own, why not?”

“Maybe”, she replied.

“So how’s the running going?”

“Fine, it’s fabulous here on the beach”.

“Do you race then?” Simon enquired.

“No, just for pleasure, it’s a good stress reducer.  There’s a hill near home I want to run up; I’ve tried it a few time, not done it yet but I will”.

“Good, you keep at” he replied. “You mentioned this morning you’re off work at the moment, are you in between jobs then?”

“No, not exactly”, she said. “Officially off sick, difficult circumstances of late”.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry”.

“It’s OK, honestly, they say talking about things is good for your recovery. You see a short time ago my boyfriend who I’d been with for five years died suddenly and unexpectedly, so you see it’s been a very difficult time”.

“I can’t even begin to imagine,” he said. ”I wonder how I’ll cope when dad goes, I mean it’s a reality, he’s elderly and not in the best of health, but he’s been here all the time. Mum died about ten years ago but there were two of us together when it was hard, but we kind of helped each other through it. How have you managed?”

Abbie put her head back and laughed a little, the wine relaxing her.

“To be honest I don’t know; God only knows, because I don’t. The bad days are awful and then there are days when you don’t know why you’re alive still, every part of you aches and grieves”.

“Is it getting better?”

“Slowly some days, a bit yes, but then something is said or happens and it sets you back hugely, it’s almost like snakes and ladders, you progress then wallop, you’re back at square one, or so it seems. I must have worn out my mum and best friend, I wasn’t fun to be around, they were so patient and good to me, and I owe them so much. What I don’t know if I’ll ever deal with is simply missing him so much”.

Simon said nothing.

“And then” Abbie continued “there’s the nightmares; they scare the living daylights out of you, not nice at all. At least I’ve not had one of those in a few nights”.

Then a voice inside of her said, ‘you know those were not dreams’.

“Listen” said Simon, “feel free to say no, and after your day, I don’t blame you if you do, but I was just going to eat when I saw you standing in the rain, so I’m guessing that you’ve eaten either. Let me cook you something, nothing flash, I was just about to do something on toast, eggs maybe, do you want some?”

“I had that this morning,” replied Abbie

“That’s not my fault” he replied smiling, “yes or no?”

“Yes then, and thank you” she smiled. ”I can handle that, I can trust you”

“Good then, that’s settled. Help yourself to more wine”

The next hour or so passed in easy conversation between them.

In some ways, Abbie was glad he didn’t press her further about her loss, it saved her from being pitied, she thought.

“So don’t you have a wife or a girlfriend?” she asked at one point.

Simon looked uncomfortable at this question, but Abbie didn’t apologise.

“No” he said, “I did a few years back, we were together a few years, but her family moved and she wanted more than this, she wanted bigger and better things, whereas I’m happy here, life’s uncomplicated most of the time. We didn’t live together, but it was a nice time”.

“Do you get lonely?” Asked Abbie 

After an awkward pause, Simon simply replied “yes”.

He then continued, “I do get lonely; there isn’t much chance to meet people in a place like this, and with taking care of dad, well I have to consider him”.

“Don’t you ever go to the towns or cities for a night out?”

“No, I don’t think that’s the best way to meet people, not for a serious relationship anyway. Most of my friends from my younger days moved way; if they come back, I see them. You meet nice people during the holiday season but they go after a week or two and that’s it”.

“So you had holiday romances then?”

“No”, he looked embarrassed, “Well yes, once, but as I said it only lasted ten days, she said she would come back but didn’t”.

The evening passed very quickly, it was 10 pm, and Abbie felt that despite the nice time with Simon, she now wanted to be alone. She felt that for his sake this particular departure had to be handled sensitively.

“Look” she said, “let me again thank you for a lovely evening and for breakfast this morning, you have been very kind and I appreciate your company this evening, but I need to go and get some sleep”.

She stood up and put on her now-dry jacket.  Simon stood up too, and she took a step closer to him, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Simon was astonished, but delighted.

Outside the rain had stopped, but the wind was still gusting and seemed stronger, the trees blowing back and forth in the night as Abbie made her way to the caravan.

                            …………………………………………………………..

In the depth of the night Simon eventually drifted off to sleep; his thoughts had been of Abbie and they had kept him awake. His sleep though was not particularly restful, he tossed and turned, unable to really settle and get comfortable. The wind outside was pounding the windows of the house. He felt hot and then cold if he moved the bedclothes. He woke and looked at the clock; it was nearly 2.30 am, so he took a drink of water and tried to settle again, sleep coming only in fits and starts.

After a while, Simon felt as though his breathing was too shallow and he tried to breathe deeply but felt his chest restricted, unable to take in sufficient air. He gradually felt more uncomfortable and was aware of a sense of a pressure being exerted on his chest, and some sort of constriction around his throat.

Simon needed more air, but couldn’t breathe in.  He tried to move, to sit up but felt he was being held back, as though pinned down by an invisible force against the bed. He opened his eyes and looked around the room; in those few moments when he was trying to focus, he sensed something on top of him in the darkness but couldn’t see anything. He thought for a moment that his life was being squeezed out of him and that he would die; his heart pounded, and his head felt as though it would explode. He opened his mouth to speak but could not utter a sound.

Just when he was resigning himself to certain death, the whole of his body became suddenly light, the physical tension in his throat and head disappearing and he was able to breathe again.  Gasping for air, sweat ran down his brow, and he lay there in the darkness, too scared to move as his breathing gradually returned to normal.

Asmodeus had chosen not to reveal himself this time, as he had in the past when taking a life.  This time, in the final moments as the breath was leaving the body below him, he realised there was a greater pleasure to be had than this man’s death; he had ways to torment this one further.

The old man was asleep; he had been so since early evening, and he very seldom disturbed.

On the landing outside the bedroom, Jess gave a groan in her sleep and rolled over.

Asmodeus entered the room.  The temperature dropped a few degrees but the old man did not stir; nor did he move as the demon climbed on top of his chest and forced the life force out of his body. In the final moments of his existence as his breathing laboured, the old man was not aware that death was coming and he did not open his eyes.  The demon had materialised, as he always did for his victims at the point of death, in case they should open their eyes while taking their final breaths so that the he would be the last, terrible thing they saw before they departed this world for the next.

In the caravan Abbie too was struggling with a restless night.  The wind was making so much noise through the trees, and at times she thought that she felt the caravan sway. She felt she was disturbed often by this, half awake, half asleep, for most of the night.

The temperature had slowly dropped, cooling the air, but she had not noticed. He waited patiently and silently, and when she seemed fully asleep, the demon approached her.

He had no hesitation in revealing himself; he had tasted her juices and kissed the flesh on her hand, and now he wanted more, and he would take it. He leaned over her and breathed steadily and directly into her face, the pungent odour of his breath paralysing her and rendering her unconscious.