TO READ PART ONE CLICK HERE
It all started six months earlier. Susan had met the man of her dreams, and any thoughts of ‘wait and see’ just disappeared out of the window. He whipped her from her feet in a whirlwind of romance, and a storm of passion. Two weeks after that fateful day, they said ‘I do’ in a dingy little office before a disinterested registrar and a couple of hired witnesses. Suddenly life was great. A loving husband, a beautiful home and a lifestyle only dreamed about by those who knew her. It was to be a new life of comfort and ease. Looking back, it was almost too good to be true.
Bringing up a child alone had not been easy. Amee was born a few days after her partner of three years had cruelly abandoned her. Susan named her after the French word for beloved so that whatever befell her in the years to come she would know that she was loved. Amee would be seven years old in a few days’ time. Seven long years during which she had juggled her home life and a part time job so that they could eat and pay the rent on their dingy little basement apartment. So when Brian came into their lives, Susan felt certain that at last wonderful things were happening which would change her and Amee’s lives forever. And she wouldn’t be wrong. But life isn't about what happens to you, it's about how you handle what happens.
Susan felt numb. She wandered around the empty house and slowly at first, images of her once happy life began to fill her mind. Laughter, music, champagne corks popping and Amee dancing round and round to a gleeful tune. It built up inside her to deafening roar and she fell to her knees, her hands pressed against her ears. Suddenly there was a louder sound, bangs and thumps on the door which drove the noise from her head, and echoed through the empty building. She knelt there frozen, confused, terrified. The door swung open crashing against the wall, and three police officers, a woman and two men rushed into the hall. They stopped in their tracks the moment they saw Susan crouching on the floor then slowly moved towards her.
“Are you alright Susan?” asked the female officer in a soothing voice as she touched her on the shoulder. Constable Jane Green was used to dealing with sensitive situations having been trained as a family liaison officer.
“No I’m not alright you stupid cow” yelled Susan clambering to her feet and beating her fists against Jane, firmly at first then easing as she dissolved into floods of tears. “I need Amee” she sobbed.
“Where is Amee?” asked Jane.
“At her friend’s house” spluttered Susan “her friend Michelle”
Jane walked Susan to a sofa and they sat down together.
“Susan” said Jane, half whispering. “Amee went missing from school during the lunch break. The head tried to contact you with no success, so they rang Social Services who in turn alerted us. Soon after that a neighbour rang to say that someone was acting suspiciously in your rear garden which is why we came”.
“It’s Brian” shrieked Susan “Brian must have her. He loves her. He wouldn’t harm her. Would he?”
“Is Brian her father?” asked Jane.
“No said Susan “We’ve only been n married a few months but he loves her; he wouldn’t harm her. Would he?”
“No of course not” said Jane squeezing Susan’s. hand whilst glancing at her fellow officer with a worried look on her face. “Susan, do you have a picture of Brian?”
“What do you think?” shouted Susan. “Look around you. The house, my home, it’s empty – err, just a minute”
With that Susan got up and walked unsteadily to the hall. There lying on the floor was the wedding photo surrounded by broken glass, its frame half covering the picture. She bent down a picked up the photograph and in doing so caught her finger on a shard of glass. As she lifted the picture a trickle of blood ran across its surface. She let out a gasp as she looked at it. Brian’s was staring straight out of the picture at her, but the woman standing next to him wasn’t Susan. It was somebody else.
TO READ PART ONE CLICK HERE
I mentioned last week that I had no idea where this story was going, but I gave in to those who asked me to carry on. Sadly I still don't know what will happen next! It may continue - it may not!