Duplicity (7 page)

The inside of the shop needed repainting, her drinks fridge was on its last legs and Health and Hygiene had already given her one ticking off regarding the state of her counter tops, so they needed  replacing.

A bit of extra money would help her smooth things over.

Being rushed off her feet also stopped Debra from dwelling upon her little mistake this morning. Debra replaced the lids on the fillings’ tubs, popped them back in the fridge then gave the counter a quick wipe. Satisfied that it would pass a cursory examination, she headed into the back room and collapsed into her chair.

“Oh, that is so good.”

Why the bloody hell did she have to go open up her big gob?  It was a good job that she’d only told him half the story. Henry was a decent bloke, a bit of a wet blanket who wouldn’t say boo to a goose but that was no reason for anyone to take advantage.

As for William, well it was an open secret that he had a thing for the ladies. Debra used to believe that it was all just idle gossip until this time last year when William had successfully pulled her in the Dog and Gun. She was drunk but not that gone to recognise one of her most loyal customers.

They both had learned some new tricks that night. Debra smiled at the recollection of their noisy bedroom antics that no doubt had kept her neighbour up all that night. The smile quickly turned into a grimace. After all, as far as William had been concerned it had just been a one-stop fuck, unlikely to be repeated. Debra was just another notch in his belt.

That just made Debra feel even worse, his current floosie was getting far more than the allocated single notch. She’d always considered William to be a decent bloke, even despite his rather bizarre views on fidelity. That had all change when she’d discovered that the bastard was knocking off Henry’s wife.

She decided to forgo the coffee ritual and just get home. That chip shop wasn’t due to open for another few days; that meant that her shop would be full to bursting point tomorrow lunch time again. If she didn’t take a relaxing bath and take something to clear her head, she’d be dead on her feet in the morning.

Her tired bones gave Debra complaint as she lifted her frame out of the chair. Hopefully, a rested and tranquil Debra would be able to bluff her way through their usual routine when the two men came into the shop tomorrow for their sandwiches. She decided there and then that Debra would tell poor Henry that she’d been mistaken about William, that she’d got him mixed up with another man. With a bit of luck, William would find somebody else by the end of the week and this whole nasty matter would be forgotten and brushed under the carpet.

If any of this got out, it would destroy that poor mild manner man. As for William, she shook her head. Debra doubted that he’d change his habits. She recalled the waves of pleasure that tore through her when William used his expert fingers and tongue on her that Saturday night, Sunday morning. Debra hadn’t shed an ounce of guilt for William’s good little wife, sitting at home, no doubt wondering what her husband was doing.

You hypocritical bitch,

She then smiled wistfully. William was such a good lover. He was the first man, ever, who’d satisfied her.

As Debra reached for her coat, she experienced pangs of jealousy; she’d only tasted a small slice of William while Henry’s wife was having the full cake, the bitch.

Debra then stopped in mid-thought when she heard the sound of somebody trying the door handle. Her usual response of shouting out that the shop was closed dried in her mouth when she realised that the noise was coming from inside the shop.

There was somebody in her shop! She heard them try the door handle one more time. they pulled the one of the bolts back. Were they trying to get out? Jesus, she fucking hoped so. She dropped to the floor and crawled over to the door separating her from the intruder. She didn’t want them to know that somebody was still in the shop; perhaps they’d just open the front door and leave. Debra eased the door shut wincing as the Yale lock clicked shut. She collapsed against the door. There was no doubt that she’d have been unable to lock the door, she was shaking like a tree in a hurricane. What the fuck was wrong with her? Christ on a bike, as far as she knew, it could be just some kid back there!

A massive weight slammed into the door on the other side. Debra squealed, the realisation that there was no way that this flimsy door would stop the intruder from reaching her.

The intruder smashed into the door again; this time Debra felt the blow. She imagined the wooden frame splintering, the door flying open and a huge black claw reaching for her neck.

There’s a monster in my shop!
The idea was just ridiculous but Debra just couldn’t shake the notion that the thing trying to get her was not human.

“Oh god,” she moaned. Debra leaped up and raced through the back room, towards the side door, praying that she’d forgotten to lock it last night. The shop keys were still on the counter, next to her mobile phone. Oh god, that was so unfair.

How long would it have taken the police to arrive? Two minutes at the most, the station was only down the road. The door banged again, Debra whimpered. It would probably only take another hit.

She reached the side door and pushed down the handle, already knowing what the outcome would be. The image of her turning the key last night played through her mind in glorious technicolour.

“Oh fuck, I’m trapped!” There was no way out. She forced down the fear, looked around the sparse room for anything she could use as a weapon, there was nothing here; even her knives were in the other room.

The cellar door stood ajar.

“Two minutes at the most?” The adjoining door wouldn’t last that long but the cellar door would. The alarm box was at the back of the cellar.  If she set that going, the cops would be here in no time.

Debra bolted into the cellar and closed the heavy door before locking it. This door was made from old oak; there was no way they’d be able to get through that one.

“Wait on,” Debra was sure that the cellar door was closed this morning. She shook her head, no it couldn’t have been. She flicked the light switch just as she heard the door in the back room crashing open then the image of Debra checking the cellar door this morning played through her mind, this time in black and white.

She stood at the top of the stairs looking down. She didn’t want to go down there but what other choice did she have? The monster was already at the other side of this door she could hear it tapping on the wood.

From where she stood, Debra saw nothing out of place but the cellar stretched all the way to the back of the shop anybody could be lurking down there.

“Come on, lass. Get a grip. You need to get those coppers here.”

She took a deep breath and walked down the steps, knowing that the danger was outside the cellar not in here.

The strip lighting above her head, bathed the room in harsh white light. Her anxiety lessened as Debra saw nothing amiss down here. Not that there were many places to hide, she’d cleared out the junk in the cellar a few weeks ago just before the health and hygiene paid her a visit, the only piece of furniture left in here was a rotting writing desk.

It had been too big to take up the stairs; she was hoping to find someone to remove it.

You are jumping at shadows. There is nothing here.

She sighed and hurried towards the main control panel, just one press of that big red button and within a couple of minutes, a bunch of hunky policemen would be here to rescue her.

Debra suddenly stopped dead, her eyes widened in shock as a slim pale female uncoiled and slipped out from under the desk. She staggered back, not believing this was really happening. The figure stood before Debra and stretched her arms

The cellar filled with the overpowering sweet scent of perfume. Debra stared in shock as the figure turned around and grinned at her.

“Bernadette? On my god, what are you doing down here? Why don’t you have any clothes on?”

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this situation, instead, she whimpered. Debra’s voice died in her throat when the naked female’s head started to reform. Her features melted like hot wax.

The thing lunged towards Debra, the shrieking woman staggered back before turning and fleeing back up the stairs. Right now, Debra couldn’t give a fuck who or what was inside her shop, anything was better than the abomination behind her.

“Hello? Is anyone down there?”

Oh god! Debra could have wept with relief. She knew that voice it belonged to Henry. Her intruder was probably long gone now.

Debra threw back the bolt and flung open the door. Henry stood at the top of the stairs. She took one look at his worried features and flung her arms around him, sobbing hysterically.

“We’ve got to get away,” she said. “You don’t even want to know what’s down there. Call the police, no, fuck that, call the army.”

The man prised Debra off his body, put his hands around her arms and started to squeeze.

“Henry? Henry what are you doing? You’re hurting me.”

Her panic bubbled up as his face began to melt. He growled then let go of Debra’s arms and violently pushed her.

Debra experienced a moment of weightlessness before crashing onto the hard concrete floor.              She felt no pain, just a cold numbing sensation creeping across her body. Her eyes flickered open, she stared into the woman’s dark blue eyes; they were kind eyes. Debra wondered who the woman was; she looked past the woman’s close cropped blonde hair and gazed at the strip light. Debra couldn’t feel anything now; she felt at peace, it was time to close her eyes.

Just before the Debra drew her final breath, a peculiar sound penetrated her dying mind. It sounded a bit like a litter of hungry puppies, followed by the noise of pattering feet.

Chapter Nine

That Emma may have short fat legs but she sure knew how to use them. Joanie watched in amusement as Emma and Tessa both pelted out of the off licence. The shopkeeper flew out of the door a couple of seconds later; he knew how to use his legs as well.

Joanie just had to giggle at the sight of the three of them racing through the crowded town centre.

“You really are a naughty girl,” said Joanie.

She clapped and laughed when the shopkeeper pushed past a slow pensioner and almost collided with a bus stop. He must have heard her as he turned around and gave Joanie a glare that was just dripping with malice.

“Oh goody, the pissed off man is up for a bit of aggro.” She watched him head towards her. “Oh yeah, bring it on.”

The shopkeeper suddenly stopped and jerked back as the old woman reached across and grabbed the top of his arm. She then proceeded to give him a right mouthful whilst pointing at her grocery shopping spilling out of her dropped shopping bag and in particular, the box of smashed eggs beside the woman’s feet.

Joanie so enjoyed his discomfort, it made her feel tons better, this distraction helped her to stop dwelling on her gran’s odd behaviour. She still hadn’t spent any of the money, God it felt weird having so much cash about her person. Ironically, it had been Joanie’s reluctance to spend any of her unexpected bonus that had given her the idea for this set up.

The scarlet faced shopkeeper had somehow managed to calm the pensioner down. He now continued his trek towards Joanie. He really did look upset.

“You were with those two.” He said, stopping in front of her. “I know you were so don’t lie to me, girl.”

Joanie grinned, “Oh yes, yes I was.”

Judging from his astonished expression, her bold answer had put Mr. Angry on the back foot. He obviously thought that she’d deny the accusation.

“In that case, you’re going to pay for what they’ve stolen out of my shop.”

“That is not going to happen,” she replied, shaking her head. Joanie flashed him a bright, sunny smile. “I’m not their keeper. You should have run faster. It isn’t my fault that you’re out of shape is it?”

“You cheeky little bastard!” He grabbed Joanie’s arm. “You’re going to wait in my shop while I call the police.”

“Look at all these people looking at us. If you don’t let go, I’m going to scream rape and shout that you grabbed my tits.”

The man paused and licked his lips. Was he foolish enough to call her bluff? God, she hoped so.

“I’ve got your face on camera,” he said, releasing her arm.

Joanie felt so betrayed as Mr. Angry spun around and hurried back to his shop. “I’ve seen you around here before, you obnoxious bitch and if I see you around here again, you’ll regret it.”

She stuck her tongue out and sighed when he disappeared in his shop, shut the door and locked it. Maybe she should have gone with him. After all, he did bite. He’d have felt more secure in his shop, it would have given her more opportunity for entertainment, knowing that he was no longer frightened of potential customers overhearing.

Joanie thrust her hands deep into her jacket pockets and made her way towards their pre-arranged rendezvous point. Her black cloud had returned with a vengeance. She’d fluffed it. Joanie had found a biter and she’d let him go. All she had to look forward to now was her two pissed off friends.

A slight smile played upon her lips, thinking of all the horrid names that those two would be calling her. Joanie had told those two idiots that the shop owner only had one working eye, almost eighty and totally deaf. Nicking a couple of cider bottles would be a doddle and like dumb sheep, they believed every word that had spewed from Joanie’s lying mouth.

She raced across the road and headed for the park. As far as Joanie was concerned, her friends’ current situation was entirely their own making. Both Emma and Tessa knew what Joanie was like for getting them into trouble. It wasn’t her fault that her friends were as thick as pig shit and gullible to boot.

Joanie felt something crunch under her boot, she looked down thinking that she’d trod on a snail. She discovered that a thin film of crimson goo now coated the soul of her boot.

“That is just disgusting.”