Destructive Melody
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About this ebook
Kirsty Black finally wins the National Election for the Purple Party, as she claims victory, a sniper is waiting in the wings. She tries to reflect on her life, before she got involved in politics.
A love affair develops, sexual abuse at the hands of her campaign manager, fraud, and the way that she was being used by the Blue Party.
Until Phyllis Knight urges her to join the Purple Party. Victory was now at her hands.
Kristina Howells
I am a published author and poet. I currently live in Calais in France, I am a British expat. I have written non-fiction and fiction works. I design all my book covers, and I have become an online judge of ebooks. My works include: A Hatter goes Mad Te Deum Una voce Lettre Fatale Making sense of the Genesis Flood Making sense of the Life of Christ Law and Gospel Les Delices de Calais Short stories Poetry Since my publishers have gone out of business due to the credit crisis I am now self publishing using Lulu.com to help me. It is easy to publish without paying for it when you know how. All my works are found on amazon. If you wish to contact me please do not hesitate all queries will be answered.
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Destructive Melody - Kristina Howells
Destructive Melody
Copyright © Kristina Howells 2011
Smashwords Edition
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
*****
1
‘Hello’ said Kirsty away from the jubilant crowd.
‘I know all about you.’ He sniped.
‘Sorry’
‘You had better beware.’
‘Beware of what. I don’t understand.’
‘Oh you will within time.’
‘I.I.I.’ stuttered Kirsty.
‘And so will the country.’
‘The Country’, she exclaimed.
Then there was a deathly silence. A silence that had made Kirsty felt afraid for the first time in her life.
Not being able to continue talking on the walkie-talkie, Kirsty called out to her P.A Joanne.
‘Yes Kirsty’ she enthused.
‘Please get me a chair and some water.’
Rushing to do as Kirsty asked, Kirsty, just remained steadfast showing nothing in what she started to feel inside, fear.
The fear of not knowing who, this person was. The fear of what he might do, or even capable of doing, as well as the fear for her life.
‘Here is a chair and some water.’
‘Thanks Joanne.’
Kirsty then began to sit down, drinking the water slowly trying to remain calm at all times.
‘You are not to move. I can see you sitting by the door.
You are to say nothing, but listen only to me.
‘Who are you?’ demanded Kirsty.
‘I told you no questions; you are to shut-up.’
‘Why me?’ she demanded.
‘You don’t understand SHUT-UP. You don’t want to make me mad.’
Kirsty still holding the glass of water could no longer drink it. She wanted to put the glass on the floor. But she couldn’t.
She just remained frozen, unable to do anything in case he may not be bluffing, and actually shoot her, like the soldiers do when they are not satisfied when interrogating their prisoners of war.
Instead she reflected on the short time before, a time when everyone was happy. But even this was hard to do.
The results are as follows, shouted the announcer in the packed out Bulwell Town Hall.
‘Purples 8002, Reds 7015, Blues 4001, Yellows 4000. The winner is Kirsty Black for the purple party.’
A large cheer had erupted as Kirsty made her way to the podium to claim her prize. The most ultimate prize of all, govern her town. She finally had the chance to represent them, the citizens in national government.
The tall, thin, dark-haired 39 year old stood in front of the jubilant crowd like the Prime Minister does when addressing the audience before him.
‘Thank you,’ she said clearly and precisely. ‘I want to thank you for allowing me to represent you in National Government. Your views matter and I will be your voice. You will be heard.’
Then a loud cheer erupted again as Kirsty stepped down from the podium, shaking her supporter’s.
‘Kirsty,’ exclaimed Joanne as she rushed up to her.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Kirsty.
‘You are wanted on the walkie-talkie.’
‘Thanks Jo.’
‘Hello’…
Kirsty sitting in the chair still frozen heard the man’s voice again.
‘Are you still sitting comfortably?’
‘Who are you?’
‘I told you, you little fucking idiot no questions or else I will have to kill you.’
It was then the stark reality of the situation had begun to sink in. She wasn’t dealing with the ordinary person that she became used to speaking to. This was someone who had the power, the power to kill.
All Kirsty could do was to close her eyes, and recollect her thoughts back to a time when politics was not even on her mind. A time when she was just a florist, working hard in a small flower shop in Bulwell.
That was until one day. A meeting with a gentleman customer introduced her to a local politician from the Blue Party, some eight years earlier.
*****
The gentleman customer known as Phillip Leruc came into the florist on many occasions. He always came into buy flowers, and deliver the knowledge of how each flower represents a different philosophical viewpoint.
Kirsty, charmed by this man’s ability to woe her, accepted his invitation immediately when he offered to take her to dinner. Despite having just finished with her ex James Frisk a property entrepreneur who spent most of his time all over Europe dealing in real estate. She really wasn’t interested in dating anyone else.
Yet, she liked Phillip. Phillip was nothing like James ever was.
Deep down this was what encouraged her to accept his sexual advances towards her, and her admiration for him could clearly be seen every time he walked into the florist, and talk to her about the flowers of love.
Phillip, tall, dark hair, well spoken and sophisticated, was nothing like the blonde shorthaired plump man she had before as her boyfriend. She was happy when, the offer of dinner came up, in the newly opened Thai restaurant on Broad Street. Kirsty made sure she dressed the part.
‘I’ll pick you up at 7pm this evening from outside the shop, don’t be late,’ said Phillip, with a smile.
‘I won’t see you later.’
It was now 5.30pm, ‘well time to lock up shop’; Kirsty muttered as she finished packing away the boxes of flowers that lay before her.
‘The day had already seemed long but 7pm seemed