good-looking and good company, but that wasn’t what had attracted her to him. He didn’t have funny mental ways or strange ideas and freakish mannerisms. Dave was normal, a perfectly normal well-balanced man. He was a free spirit, and enjoyed life with his live and let live attitude.
Would anything come of their friendship? she pondered, changing into a shortish skirt and applying her makeup. Annabelle realized how much she was looking forward to seeing Dave as she brushed her long black hair away from her pretty face. She’d be able to have coffee with him, enjoy a chat and laugh about old times - without having to worry about Brian. Dave had called at the marital home several years previously, but Brian had made it shamelessly obvious that he didn’t want the man there. Highly embarrassed, Annabelle had discreetly apologised as she’d seen Dave to the door. She’d said that Brian had been under pressure and ... As usual, she’d made excuses for her husband’s odd behaviour.
Answering the door to Dave, she smiled. Again thinking how normal he was as he joked about bringing his washing round once he’d plumbed the machine in, Annabelle laughed. She’d not laughed properly for years. It had been as much as she could do to retain her sanity, hold herself back from plunging into depression, let alone laugh. She was going to enjoy Dave’s visit.
Hopefully, she’d enjoy rekindling her relationship with all her old friends now that Brian wasn’t around.
“Hey, this is all right,” Dave said as Annabelle showed him into the lounge. “You’ve done well.”
10
“It’s rather small, but I like it,” she replied. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee.”
“I’ve got my tools and plumbing bits in the car. I’ll go and get them.”
“You’re not in a hurry, are you?” she breathed, rather too disappointedly.
“No, no. As I said, I have the day off.”
“In that case, have your coffee first. So, how are things with you?” she asked, filling the kettle. “Anything exciting been happening?”
“Only if you call decorating my flat exciting. I’ve booked a holiday for two weeks in Cyprus which I’m looking forward to.”
“Who are you going with?”
“I’m going alone. I’ll probably meet some people out there and have a good time.”
Pouring the coffee as Dave sat at the table, Annabelle scrutinized him. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a T-shirt, his jet-black hair swept back from his suntanned face. Unlike Brian who always wore a pained expression, Dave came across as relaxed and happy. Annabelle felt at ease in his company, able to be herself, and she again wondered whether anything would become of their relationship. Dave was a couple of years younger than Annabelle, and he’d not made the mistake of marrying. Thanking God that she’d not had children, she passed him his coffee and sat opposite him.
“I’ll probably get lonely,” she thought aloud. “I mean, having been married for eight years ...”
11
“No, you won’t,” he chortled. “A good-looking girl like you get lonely? No chance. You must get out and about. Get out and meet people. Talking of which, I ran into Pete Mayhurst the other day. He mentioned you.”
“Oh?”
“He was saying that he’d lost touch with most people from school as he’s been in America for several years. He remembered you, though.”
“Why me, in particular?”
“He always fancied you, Annabelle, you know that.”
“I didn’t, actually.”
“I’m meeting him for a beer this evening. Why don’t you come along?”
“Yes, yes I might just do that.”
“We’ll be in the Hare And Hounds at seven.”
Toying with her teaspoon, Annabelle realized how much she’d missed out on life during her marriage to Brian. People were meeting each other, enjoying themselves, having fun and laughing. There was a whole world out there, a world she’d been denied. She’d found it virtually impossible to have any friends. In the early days of her marriage, her friends had visited the house. But Brian had made sure that they only visited once. They weren’t welcome, he’d made that crystal clear. Wishing she’d got out of the marriage years ago, she knew that she wasn’t out of it now. Even after the divorce, Brian was still very much a part of her life. Why was he playing such a large role in her life? she wondered. Why the hell didn’t he go away and get on with his own miserable life? The problem was that Brian didn’t have a life. He’d never had a life.
12
As Dave went out to his car to get his toolbox, Annabelle sighed. He was a nice man, and she wished that she’d never lost contact with him. She should have been stronger, she knew.
Brian had ruled her life, and was now trying to destroy her life. He was a sad individual, she mused. Insecure, scatty, weird, bitter, jealous, crazy in the head ... Would he ever leave her in peace? Probably not, she concluded as she finished her coffee. He didn’t understand happiness because he’d never experienced it. He couldn’t understand that Annabelle used to be happy, and wanted to find happiness again.
“OK,” Dave said, dumping his toolbox on the floor. “Let’s take a look at this plumbing.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Annabelle said, moving to the door as the phone rang. Taking the call in her bedroom, she smiled as her sister asked how she was. “I’m OK, Carole,” she sighed, doing her best to sound happy. “How are you?”
“I’m all right. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“To be honest, things are still pretty rough. But I’m OK.”
“Annabelle, Brian’s been telling people that you used to stay out all night.”
“
What
? I never stayed out all night.”
“I know that, we all know that. But he’s been saying that you regularly slept with John from the pub.”
“John ... I hardly know him. Carole, the only time I ever spoke to him was if I went to the pub with Brian. Which was hardly ever. This is ridiculous. No, it’s slander.”
“I agree, but try proving it.”
“So, he can go around saying dreadful things about me and ...”
“And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“We’ll see about that. I’m not having him slagging me off to all and sundry.”
13
“I wouldn’t have told you but ...”
“I’m glad you did, Carole. If he’s spreading lies and malicious rumours about me, I want to know about it.”
“The best thing is to ignore him. People know you, Annabelle. They know the hell you went through with Brian. And they won’t believe a word he says. In fact, all he’s doing is proving people right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone thought that he was screwed in the head. All he’s doing is confirming their suspicions.”
“I suppose so,” Annabelle sighed. “He’s got a bloody nerve, though. The police were here this morning.”
“Again? Why?”
“Brian told them that I sent him a threatening letter. As if I’d do such a bloody stupid thing. He threw the letter away, of course.”
“So, why on earth did the police bother to see you?”
“I don’t know. I suppose they have to follow things up.”
“I was right, Annabelle. Brian is proving to everyone that he’s ill in the head. We all thought that he was strange when you first met him. It was obvious that he was disturbed. How the hell did you put up with him for eight years?”
“I blocked it out, I suppose. I tried to busy myself and keep my head above the waters of depression. I should never have married him.”
“You can’t turn the clock back. What are you doing this evening? Want to come and eat with us?”
“I’m ... Actually, I’m going out for a drink with a friend.”
14
“Oh, right. Well, that’s good. I’m pleased, Annabelle. You forget about that idiot and move on. Enjoy your life for a change. After all, you deserve to have some fun. Oh, there’s someone at the door. Look, I’ll call you soon.”
“Thanks for ringing, Carole.”
“Take care.”
“Yes, yes I will.”
Annabelle couldn’t take much more of this, she knew as she replaced the receiver. Brian was trying to make out that she was a slag and regularly slept with another man and ... This was ridiculous, and it had to stop. Again, she wondered what the hell he was trying to accomplish by lying. The marriage was over, so why couldn’t he let go? Returning to the kitchen, she tried to conceal her anxiety and anger from Dave, but he sensed that something was wrong. Making him another cup of coffee as he finished plumbing in the washing machine, she asked him to join her in the lounge. She needed to talk, but did Dave want to listen to her troubles?
“What’s the problem?” he asked, sitting next to her on the sofa.
“Nothing,” she replied, having no idea where to begin. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Want to talk about it?”
“It’s Brian,” she sighed. “He’s been telling people that I’m a slag and slept around during our marriage.”
“Ah, the embittered ex syndrome. I wouldn’t worry about it, Annabelle. He’ll find something else to do before long.”
“Will he? I’m not so sure about that. The police called this morning and accused me of sending him a threatening letter. As if I’d do that, for God’s sake.”
15
“Did you see the letter?”
“No. They reckon that he threw it away.”
“I suppose they have to look into allegations.”
“That’s what I thought. All I want is to be allowed to get on with my life.
He
wanted me out of the house,
he
wanted a divorce, and now he’s got what he wanted ...”
“A friend of mine had a similar problem,” Dave murmured, abstractively.
“Oh? What happened?”
“Black magic,” he whispered mysteriously.
“What?”
“He used some form of black magic and, within a couple of weeks, there were no more problems.”
“You mean, he killed his ex using Voodoo?”
“No, no,” he laughed. “He bought a book about black magic. He set out candles and did some ritual or other. His ex left him in peace and that was the end of it.”
“I don’t believe in that stuff.”
“Neither did he, Annabelle,” he said, staring into the dark pools of her eyes. “Until it worked.”
Pondering on black magic, Annabelle didn’t believe that it had worked for Dave’s friend.
It must have been a coincidence, she concluded. The man’s ex must have fallen in love with someone else and had given up pestering him. Imagining sticking pins in an effigy of Brian, she laughed as Dave leaped up from the sofa and performed his version of a rain dance in the centre of the room. He was fun, she reflected as he waved his arms in the air. Happy-go-lucky, carefree, he was enjoying life to the full. Dave was normal.
16
“Instead of praying for rain, do the dance and pray for Brian to bog off,” he laughed.
“This is serious,” Annabelle giggled.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll get the book from my mate, and you can read it. Don’t judge the power of whatever it is until you’ve read the book.”
“All right, I’ll read the silly book,” she conceded.
“Shall I go and get it now? He doesn’t live far.”
“If you want to, Dave. I’m not really bothered.”
“It worked for him, Annabelle. Don’t condemn the idea until you’ve tried it.”
“OK, get the book and I’ll read it. I have to do some shopping so stick it through the letterbox if I’m out.”
“And I’ll leave my washing on the doorstep,” he chuckled.
“Do you really want me to ...”
“No, no. I’m only joking. OK, I’ll see you soon.”
As Dave lugged his toolbox to his car, Annabelle watched him from the lounge window.
Voodoo, black magic, or whatever it was, wouldn’t work, she was sure as he drove off. But it might be interesting to read the book. Almost at the stage where she’d try anything to be rid of Brian, she again imagined sticking pins into his effigy. He’d writhe in pain as she pierced his cock and twisted the pin, she mused, picturing him doubled up on the floor.
When she returned from her shopping trip, she frowned as she discovered a cardboard box on her doorstep. Peering inside, expecting to find the box full of dirty clothes, she laughed.
Dave had not only lent her the book, but filled the box with candles, a black cloth and an 17
assortment of ivory symbols. “This is ridiculous,” she breathed, dumping her shopping in the kitchen and emptying the cardboard box on the lounge floor. Settling on the sofa and reading the book from cover to cover, she wondered whether she’d been wrong to ridicule the power of black magic. The author had cited some pretty convincing cases. If he was to be believed, this might be the way to be rid of Brian of good.
Laying the black cloth on the floor, she arranged the candles and symbols according to the diagram in the book. Feeling foolish, she decided not to tell anyone what she’d done. They’d only laugh at her, she was sure. Lighting the candles, she drew the curtains and pondered on the next stage of the ritual. “I must be mad,” she murmured, slipping out of her clothes and standing in the centre of the black cloth. Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms across the firm mounds of her young breasts and tried to concentrate on Brian.
Her thoughts turning to Dave, she was looking forward to meeting him for a drink that evening. Wondering whether they’d strike up a relationship, she thought about sex. Her sex life with Brian had been virtually nonexistent. A quick hump from him, and it was all over. She’d given up masturbating when she’d married Brian, but had soon been forced to resume her self-loving in a big way. What was Dave like in bed? she mused, recalling the time at school when he’d asked her out. Sadly, she’d declined his offer. How would things have turned out had she gone out with him? Did he fancy her now?
“This is stupid,” she whispered, looking down at the candles flickering around her naked feet. Unable to concentrate on Brian, she couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. He was fun to be with, he enjoyed life - and he’d plumbed in the washing machine. What more could a girl ask 18