This works as a stand alone story but it can be a follow up to Monday's.
Did I hope he was dead? Yes and no. I didn't mean to kill
him but if he bled to death before the ambulance came then I guess I wouldn't mind.
I knew the ambulance would come because I called it.
“My husband's been stabbed,” I sobbed before I left the front door ajar and got into my car. I suppose you could say I saved his life; if he survives that is. I parked the car in the bus station car park and then walked to the train station and got on the train to Gatwick. I pictured the scene at my place; him lying on the floor, a pool of blood darkening the tiles. Paramedics in their hi-vis vests stemming the bleeding and loading the pig onto a stretcher. The neighbours would be watching from their windows and front doors as they wheeled him out. Then the police would start asking questions. The neighbours saying we looked like such a wonderful couple, love’s young dream. Well, looks can be deceptive; no one ever thinks to scratch the surface. Our marriage was like that Shepherd’s pie he was making; it looks lovely one the outside, all that golden brown fluffy potato but what’s lurking beneath and what long-term damage does it do.
“My husband's been stabbed,” I sobbed before I left the front door ajar and got into my car. I suppose you could say I saved his life; if he survives that is. I parked the car in the bus station car park and then walked to the train station and got on the train to Gatwick. I pictured the scene at my place; him lying on the floor, a pool of blood darkening the tiles. Paramedics in their hi-vis vests stemming the bleeding and loading the pig onto a stretcher. The neighbours would be watching from their windows and front doors as they wheeled him out. Then the police would start asking questions. The neighbours saying we looked like such a wonderful couple, love’s young dream. Well, looks can be deceptive; no one ever thinks to scratch the surface. Our marriage was like that Shepherd’s pie he was making; it looks lovely one the outside, all that golden brown fluffy potato but what’s lurking beneath and what long-term damage does it do.
The train was empty. I clutched my passport and my ticket
and tried to relax. I’d day dreamed of this moment, then planned it, and then
procrastinated but now I’d finally broken free. Why did I stab him? Well if I
hadn’t, I could always go back and I knew that I would. Now even if I had the
urge to forgive and forget, even if he begged me and promised me it would never
happen again, there was no way I could return.
It was time to plan my future; this time tomorrow I’d be
losing myself in New York City, walking the High-Line and skating in Central
Park. Pancakes for breakfast, pizza for
lunch, hot dogs for dinner and no shepherd's pie in sight.
I glided serenely through the airport. Still in my business suit, I looked like any other traveller. I was travelling on my maiden name which I hoped would give me some time. I handed my passport over to the check-in girl who looked at it and then looked at me. She should have handed my passport back but she kept hold of it. Why was she staring like that? She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Had they already alerted the airports?
“Is anything wrong?” I asked. She continued staring; it was beginning to freak me out a little. “Are you okay?” I said, she continued to watch me. She touch-typed something on her computer, still not taking her eyes off me.
“Your blouse,” she said.
I looked down and saw blood spots all over it, and then felt the hands of two police officers grab my arms.
I glided serenely through the airport. Still in my business suit, I looked like any other traveller. I was travelling on my maiden name which I hoped would give me some time. I handed my passport over to the check-in girl who looked at it and then looked at me. She should have handed my passport back but she kept hold of it. Why was she staring like that? She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Had they already alerted the airports?
“Is anything wrong?” I asked. She continued staring; it was beginning to freak me out a little. “Are you okay?” I said, she continued to watch me. She touch-typed something on her computer, still not taking her eyes off me.
“Your blouse,” she said.
I looked down and saw blood spots all over it, and then felt the hands of two police officers grab my arms.
This time it is absolutely unconvincing for me
ReplyDeleteSorry, :-)
DeleteI mean the reason she killed him for is not convincing... That is not the reason to kill, unless she is kind of mental, or unless, it is one of Tarantino's films.. Why didn't she just think of divorce... yes I know she didn't believe in herself, in her strong will... just I am not convinced... For a sane woman to commit a murder, there must be either some serious reason, man's terrible crime, or just sudden violent emotions... There is this famous quote: Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned... sorry for the stream of consciousness or possible mistakes but I am in a hurry. And maybe I am wrong after all
DeleteI don't think the reason has been given, only hinted at. the point I was trying to make is that many times people go back to abusive relationships, this woman had decided the only way out of this relationship was to make it impossible to go back. She doesn't murder her husband but she knows that she will be wanted for assault or attempted murder, so once she is in the States she knows that she can never go back to Britain and ergo can never go back to her husband. Without the attack she could fly to the US but there would be the temptation to go back, to forgive, to give him one last chance. She is burning her bridges. Making return impossible. But attempted murder is a stressful thing and often people get caught on the minutest of details. In this case the woman had thought about her escape, bought her tickets, parked her car in a place to throw the police off, but then she'd forgotten to change her clothes.
DeleteBut they say an explained joke is not a good joke so maybe an explained story is not a good story ;-)
Your explanation is eloquent and logical, but what I was talking about was someting like gut feeling, something evasive, something beyond logic. I was wasn't convinced that the situation was so serious that the only way out for this woman was to murder the man.... I have never wanted to kill anyone (oh wait, that's a lie, today I want to kill someone, who is lucky enough to be far from me, otherwise he would be dead, but that would be murder of passion or rage, so This is good enough reason:-)) but I suppose it requires some extreme, obsessive thoughts... Nobody who is mentally sane wants to kill, so I just wanted to say I just did not feel there was the reason for this premeditated murder.... But maybe we should not look for reasons all the time. Maybe just some things happen without any reason
DeleteI thought I could describe how he beat her or sexually abused her or mentally abused her. I thought about her finding another woman's or man's underwear in the bedroom . But I thought that was too obvious. I'm sorry if it wasn't convincing.
DeleteTO answer a couple of points, she didn't murder him and didn't try to. She wanted to injure him, if he died she could live with that.I don't think this happened with no reason. I think the reasons are there but it was not a impetuous crime of passion, it was a planned crime of revenge. And i hope the person you want to murder stays far from you so you won't be arrested.
' Our marriage was like that Shepherd’s pie he was making; it looks lovely one the outside, all that golden brown fluffy potato but what’s lurking beneath and what long-term damage does it do.'
ReplyDelete