Duplicity (8 page)

There were bits of bone and feathers all across the grass. Joanie wiped her boot on the edge of a bench then turned away from the mess on the floor.

“Must have been a cat or fox,” she muttered.

The bowling green in front of her looked so pristine, now that all those excitable wrinklies had buggered off home. There were probably all getting ready to go out to play bingo.

“What an exciting life those old bastards have.”

Joanie decided there and then that she’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than get old and watch her body and mind slowly rot away.

“Just like my gran.”

Now that was so unfair! How the bloody hell had Joanie managed to get back onto the subject of her again? The only good thing that had come out of that freaky encounter was her bundle of money. At least her mum hadn’t rung her up, demanding that she return it, now that would have been a tragedy.

“I wish I could get my mum’s noose off my neck.” She sighed, like that would ever happen. Joanie shoved the whole idea to the back of her mind and hurried past the bowling green, heading for the children’s playground.

That was their rendezvous point and if those two wasn’t there then trouble in the shape of Joanie’s fist would soon be rocketing towards their noses. The girls would be waiting for her, of that, she was certain.  They may get all pissy and gob off at setting them up but they wouldn’t disobey her direct orders.

“They had better save me some of that cider.” She muttered.

Joanie stopped beside a tall green shrub, smiled and peered through the foliage, her plan was simple, she’d wait until both the greedy bitches had their gobs around the cider bottles before running over there and yelling like a crazed harpy. A ceremonial garden and two paths separated the shrubs from the fenced off playground. Neither Emma nor Tessa occupied the bench beside the kiddies’ slide; her temper stayed at just under boiling point at the sight of the cider bottles next to the legs of the bench. Both bottles were full, so they couldn’t have gone too far.

The opportunity to see them both choke may be in tatters but it still gave her the chance to claim the two bottles for her own. She trudged through a bed of bright yellow flowers onto the path and sauntered towards the metal gate that led into the playground area. There was still no sign of either if them. “Fuck them both.” She muttered. “You’ve lost your cider. Finders keepers.”

She sat on the bench, leaned forward and grabbed the first bottle, unscrewing the cap; Joanie glanced around the park one more time. “Something is wrong with this picture, Joanie girl.” She nodded, held the bottle above her head and shook it. “They’ve pissed in it. The dirty slags must be waiting to see if I take a drink before jumping out, giggling like loons.”

The temptation to throw the cider against the slide died when Joanie realised that they just wouldn’t dare; signing their own death warrants just wasn’t in their natures. “You’re thinking too much again.” Joanie unscrewed the cap, took a tentative sniff before pushing the neck into her open mouth and lifting the bottle. 

The way her gran acted earlier just wouldn’t stop bothering her. The old bag had never before given her such a huge amount of money. Joanie put the cider down and took the wad out of her pocket; she’d yet to spend any of it. Going back to the home just to see if her gran was okay played on her mind; Joanie grinned, maybe she really was going funny in the head. If that was the case, there may be a chance to rip some more cash from the woman.

That sounded like a good plan to her, it was obvious that her friends had buggered off, not that it was any skin off her nose, they’d left her the cider, that’s all that mattered. Maybe their mums had rang them and ordered the pair home, yeah that made sense. They’d leave the bottles, of course they would. If either Emma or Tessa were caught stinking of booze, they’d be grounded for a month.

Joanie stuffed the cash back into her jacket pocket then paused as the germ of an idea pushed through her mind. Why don’t I get my own phone?” There’d be no frustration of having to abide by her mum’s ridiculous impositions any more. The fact that the old she-bitch wouldn’t be able to contact her just made the idea even sweeter.

It looked as though her plans for the next day were already set in place now. The first thing in the morning, she intended to have a wander around the town, to see what phone bargains she could find. Those poor sales people wouldn’t know what hit them when Joanie came knocking at their door.

That black cloud had just disappeared all together, Joanie couldn’t remember being so happy. She picked up the fullest bottle and made her way out of the playground, looking forward to paying another visit to her dear gran.

Her preoccupation with finally removing her mother’s ball and chain did not stop Joanie from keeping a look out for her two friends. Her theory about them buggering off after receiving a text or call from their mum fit all the fact except for just one. The cows would have waited for her before scurrying home.

As she approached the main gates, Joanie caught movement just outside the park, beside the road. It was those two alright; she’d recognise Tessa’s tight scarlet trousers and big fat arse stuck up as she kneeled down next to Emma anywhere. What where they doing? Emma looked up as Joanie approached them. They were crowded around a drain cover, she wondered if one of them had dropped something down there. Joanie would just piss her knickers with laughter if it turned out to be one of their phones.

“You’ve lost your cider.” She said.

Emma gestured her over. “Oh god, Joanie, you just have to see this!”

She gazed at her friend’s flushed excited face. The girl’s large dark blue eyes stared right back at her. “You look like you’ve just had your first orgasm.”

Her friend shrugged, “There’s a little man down here, Joanie.” She moved to one side. “Honest, I’m not shitting you up.”

Had she just heard those words correctly? Joanie didn’t bother retorting, it was fairly obvious that she’d seen something down that drain. The girl was too thick to make up such a weird tale. Joanie hurried over and handed the bottle to Emma. “Don’t even think of taking a sip, I’ve spat in that.” She pushed Tessa out of the way. “If either of you are having a laugh here, I’ll drown the pair of you.”

Joanie could make out something moving down there in the gloom, it was too dark to tell what it was though, maybe a small dog or some fucking huge rat. Joanie pushed her fingers through the gaps, gripped the bars and pulled the cover up.

“Be careful.” Tessa whispered.

“Hush it.” Joanie snatched the bottle from Emma’s hand, took another swig before holding the bottle over the hole. She could still see the thing down there, why had it not buggered off? As soon as she had lifted the cover, Joanie had expected it to dart off, further into the sewers. She giggled, not that it bothered her. She gazed at both her friends and grinned. “Bombs away, she said, dropping the bottle.”

The screeches and shrieks that exploded from the drain caused Joanie to stumble into Tessa. That was no animal, the noises sounded almost human. She looked at Emma, expected to see a triumphant smug grin plastered across her face. The girl looked as shocked as she must have looked. “No way,” she muttered. “The drain’s just too small.” Joanie crawled back towards the open drain and peered down.

“Can you see anything?” Emma asked.

Joanie leaned over and saw a pair of tiny brown eyes of glaring back at her. The figure moved into the light and Joanie screamed at the sight of a miniature version of Henry Collins.

Chapter Ten

No amount of self-control could stop his jaw stretching as Albert’s yawn popped his ears and almost dislocated his mouth muscles. This new level of tiredness was new, even to him. Just the task of blinking seemed to be too much of an effort.

That woman, his
lost treasure
, had drained every dreg of vigour from his exhausted body. Not that he’d complained at the time, hell no! God she’d become insatiable, if the power from her sex-drive could be harnessed, she’d be able to light up whole cities. Was she really a woman though? That unwanted thought had recently taken up residence in his thoughts like wool caught on barbed wire, no matter what he tried, the image just wouldn’t shift.

Despite the blood, gore and abattoir stench, Albert had still succumbed to her overwhelming demands and fucked her senseless. In the back of his mind, he knew that to refuse her advances would have been pointless anyway. As they rolled about in the crimson mess, coating their naked bodies in warm blood, Albert’s, self-disgust faded watching the woman force his penis deeper inside her. When she cried out in ecstasy, it only helped to inflame his desire and passion.

After what seemed like hours, Albert had been able to prise the woman from his exhausted body, made her sit in a corner while he cleaned up the mess.

Looking back, he shouldn’t have been too surprised by her actions. Death was the greatest aphrodisiac of them all. He’d seen that many times from back when he was in the army. Back during the ‘troubles’ in Northern Ireland, He’s witnessed many a gunfight and the relief of actually not dying had caused his testosterone levels to rocket.

Albert pushed the images of what she’d one to Eileen to the back of his head. The longer he dwelt on her actions, the more he became convinced that his
lost treasure
was not entirely human.

There was definitely something not quite right about her. Ha! Like that was the underestimation of the century, like killing a patient and eating most of the body was perfectly acceptable. If the girl wasn’t right in the head and she couldn’t control her actions then what did that make him?

No judge or jury would accept a plea of abnormally high hormone levels and being a slave to his cock. The worse the authorities would be able to get him with was cleaning up after a murder. Even such an act like that was well within his morally ambiguous code of honour. It wasn’t too late to back out.

Albert stretched and peered over the edge of the door, spying on his intended target. He realised that backing out just wasn’t possible. Albert wanted the old bastard to die as well. In fact, he intended to watch his
lost treasure
to rip old nasty Frankie to bits and just before the light faded from the bastards eye, Albert was going to spit in his face.

Revenge is a dish best served cold. He chuckled at the thought of him serving up Frankie’s severed head to his
lost treasure
.

The old man sat opposite Frankie swore. Albert surmised that the daft old sod had lost yet again. Frankie’s gnarled hand shot across the table and snatched the man’s last packet of cigarettes from off the coffee table.

Albert wondered where the shift nurses were hiding, they’d been told on countless occasions not to allow Frankie to swindle money and valuables from any of the other residents with his crooked card games.

Why was he even asking such a stupid question? The last thing he need right now were those two goons to show up. The thought of the nurses making an unwelcome appearance gave him the required incentive to get this unsavoury deed out of the way.

He stretched out his arms and flexed his muscles, some strength had returned but he was still weak. Even so, Albert knew he’d be able to summon enough reserve if the nasty little reptile became unruly.

Frankie’s defeated opponent had stolen one of the high seat chairs from another patient who’d made the mistake of going to the toilet. He was busy gazing up at the television bolted the wall and cheerfully ignoring the woman’s loud accusations. Within an hour, Albert just knew that the poor bastard would have completely forgotten about the card game and would be accusing fellow patients of stealing his cigarettes. If he saw Frankie with them, well, the fireworks would fly. Albert smiled and quietly pushed open the cupboard door, knowing that future scenario was now unlikely to unfold.

Nobody had noticed Albert step into the common room, not even Frankie. The sly old sod was too busy searching the faces of the other brain dead crumblies, trying to seek out another victim. There was another player in town and this one wanted to take more than a packet of cigarettes. Albert coughed, smirking as Frankie spun around, startled.

The old bastard glared at the janitor but he didn’t rise from his chair. Albert found that a little disappointing, he’d been hoping Frankie would at least have tried to wall him up or at least given him a slice of verbal abuse. Albert sauntered across and sat in the now vacant chair, smiling. “Hello. How are you doing?”

“Fuck off.” Frankie snapped back.

Albert placed both hands on the scratched Formica table and put on his best humble expression. “Listen to me, Frankie. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye in the past but, I think we should try to put our differences behind us.” Albert gazed over at three women sat in the corner reading lifestyle magazines. Two of the women were his previous special ladies. He carried on looking at the woman, wishing that this senile fuckstick would hurry up and twig.

Frankie leaned forward, “Do you think I’m as dumb as the rest of them? No amount of you pretending to be my bestest buddy is going to stop me from setting the law on you.”

Albert patiently waited for the man to catch his breath; he clearly hadn’t finished chewing him out yet. Albert resisted the urge to yawn.

“You’re just a dirty pervert. Those poor ladies will be scarred for life after what you did to them.”

He stared into the old man’s rheumy brown eyes; he allowed a smirk to play on his lips. “And yet, despite me apparently scarring those poor little girls, which might I add is shite, they don’t even know what planet they are on. Despite all that, you haven’t reported me. Why, why is that?”

Frankie shrugged, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “Maybe I have.”

“Bullshit.” Albert hissed. He placed his wallet on the table. “Is it money, you’re after? Or is it something else. Like sex perhaps?”

Albert didn’t think Frankie had heard his jibe. His greedy eyes hadn’t moved from his packed wallet. It wasn’t his money, he’d found a pile of rolled up notes whilst cleaning Eileen’s apartment. He slammed his hand on the wallet, breaking Frankie’s trance. Albert pushed back his chair and stood up.