The Dress - part seven

This weeks prompt on Matinee Muse - Undying optimism.

Last week - from somewhere she found the strength to grab the mask and rip it away from his face. His face, a face she thought she would never see again.........

She grabbed a shoe, one with a long stiletto heal and aimed it her assailants temple. He writhed in agony, too weak to retaliate. Then he crawled to the open door and pulled himself outside into the mist of autumn night. She pulled herself to her feet then pushed and shoved him until he was clear of the door then she slammed it shut.

***

It was many years ago. She had been the sole witness to a dreadful murder. Her evidence was key to the murder trial. Ricky Chamdler was sentenced to life imprisonment. As he was led away from the court he turned to her. She would never forget those eyes. Those piercing devil eyes. He stabbed a finger toward her and shouted that she would be next. She knew that life wouldn’t mean life, but she comforted herself with the thought that it would be many years before he once again saw the light of day. She never in her wildest dreams thought that she would be facing him just six years later. Now it made sense. The Halloween mask, the kitten. All those things for which she blamed Martin.

One year ago he had escaped from prison and headed straight for the cottage. A homeless girl had found the cottage empty and broken in hoping to make it her temporary home. Chandler mistook her for Jane and killed her in cold blood. The police were pretty sure he was the attacker, but despite the best efforts of the Sussex constabulary he was never found. All this happened whilst Jane was hidden away in France without a forwarding address so she had no idea what had happened.

***

For the first time ever she knew she needed Martins help. She fumbled with her phone, dropped it, picked it up again then realised she had deleted his number some time ago.

The Police. Yes, she needed to call the police. But before she could do so, her phone rang. She answered it not daring to even breathe. She recognised Martins voice. ‘He won’t trouble you again’ he said. Then he rang off.

The next day the local news reported that the body of escaped murderer Ricky Chandler had been discovered dead at the foot of Beachy Head cliffs. A police spokesman said they were not treating his death as suspicious.

Martin still skulks in the shadows. Watching, waiting less one day she should need his help again. He harbours an undying optimism. A certainty that one day he will once again share his life with the girl in the leopard print dress. Until then he will wait. And wait. And wait.

The End

Back to part one

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