Autumn Leaves: A Short Selection of Scattered Tales

By Edward Stephens

Autumn Leaves is an eclectic mix of short stories of all genres—including romance, adventure, horror, and suspense—with a few poems.

All work is entirely the author’s.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796002706

Edward Stephens

The author has been writing short stories for his own interest for over forty years. Only recently has he been strongly motivated enough to wish to see them in print. The author hopes the reader may gain the enjoyment in reading that the author felt in writing them.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 by Edward Stephens.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2019905116

ISBN:             Hardcover               978-1-7960-0272-0

                       Softcover                  978-1-7960-0271-3

                       eBook                       978-1-7960-0270-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/03/2019

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CONTENTS

A Beautiful Scam

A Fine Crop

A Hopeless Case

A Wonderful View

All Too Much

All for Love

Allergy

Amy

Another Time

Beefcake

Bloody Hell

Born Again

Buff Up

Butterfly

Carol

Cat Nap

Compromise

Condemned

Cycling

Dear Beryl

Dear Diary

Dreaming

Ending It All

Everything

Exhausted

Famished

Fertiliser

Fight like a Man

Fishin’

Fit

Five Fables

Flight

For Kate

Forty-Eight Degrees

Free at Last

Got You

Grumpy Old Man

His Best Shot

Hot

How Dare They

Huh?

Hungry

Huntsville

I Don’t Remember

I Won’t Forget

It Just Happened

Jesse

Jimmy Running

Journeys

Just another Airport

Do It!

Just Hanging On

Just Trying

Late

Loving

Maggot Sister

Mary and Jane

Mary, Friday

Mine in the Net

Mountains

Moving

Nellie

Nettie

News

Next

Next Week

No Matter

Not a Complete Bastard

Not Now

Nothing

Nothing Unusual

Now What?

Off Course

Oh, Bother

Solitaire; One Last Game

A Thousand Words

Over My Dead Body

Park Bench

Perfection

Playing with Fire

Pursuit

Reflections

Shiu Shiu

Show Me

Smoking

Spots

Sunburn

Surrender

That Cat

My First Bite

That Word

The Cellar

The Gardener

The Lizard Defence

The Outsider

The Pact

The Princess and Her Prince

The Proposal

The Receipt

The Stick

The Ultimate Weapon

The Wedding

Time to Panic

Tomorrow

Too Late to Write

Too True

Victim

Virus Maker

Waiting at the Bar

Wednesday

Whacko

What a Day

What?

Who?

Whose Indeed?

Wickety Wacket

Wilfred

Year’s End

A Beautiful Scam

I t couldn’t possibly get worse. The business was just about broke, I was just about broke, and Tammy had left me, taking the kids with her after our eldest, Jeannie, had said she thought she might be pregnant. I had creditors breathing down my neck, and it looked like Jim Atkinson, our accountant, was about to be charged with embezzlement. He had over a hundred clients, and there was talk that he had milked us all for well over $1 million. While that’s only $10,000 per client, it was enough to send me to the financial edge.

Not that I was a particularly good businessman, but I’d relied on Jim for most of the decisions I should have made myself. Decisions such as how best to manage the day-to-day running of the firm, how to handle employees and their wages, and how to manage my cash flow were all entrusted to a man intent on ripping off his clientele. He had shown no remorse when several friends of mine, all clients of his, had accused him of fraud. He admitted he had made several risky investments, most, though not all, of which were ultimately unsuccessful. The few that had worked out he had reinvested into other similar instruments with the same lack of fortune as the rest.

So there I was, alone, with an estranged wife trying to sue the pants off me for neglect and mental cruelty. All in all, it was not a happy time.

Then she came. At around eleven in the morning, I heard a loud knock on the front door. I opened it to see a gorgeous redhead standing there with a clipboard in her hand. Tall and slender, she took my breath away. With all my self-control, I managed to answer her with a neutral voice.

‘Yes, I’m Dave Walker. What can I do for you?’

She replied, ‘I represent Collins and Collins Solicitors. Your neighbours, the Fords, are suing you for non-delivery of a set of tableware they paid for six months ago. The amount involved, as you well know, was over $1,000. They wish not only to recover the cost of the goods but also to seek compensation for the inconvenience and embarrassment caused by said non-delivery. We seek a total of $10,498, including our costs. If you intend to dispute this, you are welcome to meet us in court over the matter. I should advise you that that will entail a considerably higher sum than we are asking now. You have seven days to reply to this demand. My details are on my card.’

She handed me a set of documents and her card, turned, and walked out to the road. I watched as she got into a very expensive Mercedes and drove away.

I was gobsmacked. She was dazzlingly beautiful, evidently well-heeled, and clearly a strong personality. I had to have her.

I closed the door and put the papers on a side table. I studied the card. It was embossed and obviously quite expensive stock. Her name was Andrea Nettleton. She was the chief operational consultant with Collins and Collins. I couldn’t imagine what such a title entailed. Then I picked up the documents she had left, sat down, and read them. Apparently, I had ‘sold’ said tableware at a time when I was being besieged by creditors over a deal that had gone horribly awry. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember the tableware. Nor for that matter could I recall having had any dealings with the Fords. They were a strange bunch, living behind their tall brick fence, never coming out to meet their neighbours or the community at large.

Then it hit me—I didn’t have the tableware to sell at the time; I had run out and was waiting on a shipment from France. In fact, it never came, as I hadn’t paid for the previous lot. There was no way I would have sold it in advance as I never know when goods will arrive so trade only what I have in stock, and that strictly for cash.

This had all the hallmarks of an elaborate scam. I considered calling the police but hesitated. She was too beautiful to go to gaol. What on earth could I do?

I decided to look up Collins and Collins on the Internet. I found nothing; they clearly didn’t exist. I was obviously a target for some criminal gang. I presumed it had to be a gang; I couldn’t see Andrea pulling this off alone. What a waste; she was such a superb specimen of womanhood, and already I ached for her.

As I pondered this, an idea slowly formed. Why not call her bluff?

I went next door and called on the Fords. Alex Ford was horrified; his family had been used to instigate a scam. He was adamant we had to call the police immediately. I was reluctant to do so. I didn’t want to involve Andrea but could see his point of view.

The next day, I called her.

‘Could you come to see me? I want to discuss this. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. I can supply the required goods but need you to collect them on the Fords’ behalf.’

‘The goods are no longer desired. We only want the cash.’

‘OK, I’ll hand the cash over to you. I don’t trust the post and want to clear this as soon as possible. However, I insist on a public meeting place. How about the café Runcular? Do you know it?’

‘I know it. What time?’

‘How about tomorrow night at eight?’

‘OK, and we want cash, not cheques, nothing that can be cancelled. Is that clear?’

I agreed and hung up. I hoped desperately she wouldn’t know my family connections to that particular café, specifically that of Uncle Ferdi, an ex-cop who often dined with his old mates there.

Next evening at the café, I was seated at a table by the window. The place was almost empty, with just half-a-dozen patrons at a table near the rear. Right on eight, she arrived. She was not alone; three of the roughest-looking, toughest-looking characters were with her. I hoped desperately that Uncle Ferdi was nearby, as, of course, I didn’t have the cash, at least not all of it. I had $1,000 for appearance’s sake, which was all I could raise.

As Andrea leaned forward to sit down, she almost fell out of her top. I practically swooned. One of the men with her spoke.

‘Give us the money. This is only a down payment, you understand?’

Nonplussed, I stared at him.

‘What do you mean only a down payment? The deal was for ten thou. That’s all.’

‘There’re other complaints. We’ll take them to the cops if you hold out on us. We’ve enough to have you gaoled for some time.’

I gulped; this was more than I’d bargained for. These people were deadly serious. I drew out the $1,000 and counted it out for him.

‘Where’s the other nine? Any funny business and you’ll be in the clink before you can blink.’

‘I’ve only got that. I have to raise the rest. It could take days.’

‘You’ve got forty-eight hours. Give me what you’ve got now and the rest—day after tomorrow. Same place, same time.’

Just then, Uncle Ferdi approached.

‘Is everything OK here?’

I looked at the three men. The atmosphere was as taut as a tightrope wire.

I replied, ‘Yes, no problems. We were just having a friendly chat.’

Uncle Ferdi seemed to relax.

‘Good, I’ll leave you to it. I must see to the other patrons.’

He left and went to talk to the group of six at the far table.

‘Hand over the cash.’

I sighed and handed it over.

The thug looked at it with a certain glint in his eye. He counted it again.

One of the other patrons approached the table. The three men glared at him. The thug with the cash spoke with clear menace in his voice.

‘Get lost.’

The other patron ignored the threat. The thug continued.

‘I said get lost. This is none of your business. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of here right now.’

The patron smiled.

He placed an object on the table. We all stared at it. It was a police badge.

‘Sgt Bill Winnett. You’re nicked—demanding money with menaces, threatening a police officer, and a whole lot more we can think of. Get up. My colleagues are watching right now and would love an excuse for a good stoush.’

The others looked around. The five remaining patrons from the other table were now standing behind him. It was clearly no contest. Together, the three men and Andrea rose. Suddenly, the thug who had taken my money and Andrea made a dash for the door. Two of the officers ran after them out into the street. I saw the thug pause a moment, seeming to bump into Andrea, before both raced off in opposite directions. Soon after, the two police with the thug handcuffed returned. He was searched, but nothing was found. Andrea was nowhere to be seen; she had gotten clean away. I was both glad and angry that she had escaped. She almost certainly had my money, yet I still longed for her. The two remaining thugs stood up and were cuffed by the police, and all were taken into custody.

I felt completely confused. What had just happened? I had been scammed and had lost $1,000. Were the police real, or were they also part of the scam? Was Uncle Ferdi in on it? And what of Andrea? Was she really a crook too? In my heart, I didn’t want to believe it, but my head said quite clearly I’d been set up.

I didn’t sleep much that night and had dreams of beautiful red-headed birds dive-bombing me in a forest of trees whose leaves were all $100 notes. I was certainly not in the best of moods when I was woken by a knock on the front door.

Who the hell could it be at that early hour? I checked the clock in the kitchen. It was nearly nine; I had slept in, something I normally don’t do.

I opened the door to see Uncle Ferdi on the step, a big grin on his face. Puzzled, I looked outside. There was a uniformed policewoman with him. She looked familiar. I was stunned. It was Andrea. She too was grinning. She had an envelope in her hand. Uncle Ferdi spoke.

‘Can we come in? I owe you an explanation. This is Senior Constable McClelland from the Fraud Squad. She has been working undercover for months trying to get that mob. Thanks to you we have them. Receiving the cash was the final nail in their coffin. The original notes are being kept for evidence. This is from the police contingency fund. It’s quite kosher, you can cash it at any bank.’

I stared at the envelope. As she handed it to me, for just a moment, her hand lingered in mine and then was quickly retracted. She smiled so sweetly I felt weak at the knees. She pulled a card from a pocket in her uniform and handed it to me. She turned, and both of them left. I gazed at the card. It had her name: Andrea McClelland, Senior Constable, Fraud Squad. It also had a phone number on it. I was in heaven. I returned inside and ripped open the envelope. There was a cheque for $1,000. Later in the shower, I dared to dream and determined to call her at the first opportunity. Being alone and broke wasn’t so bad after all.

A Fine Crop

T he noise of the vacuum cleaner echoed in his ears. The maid, Joan, was just doing her job, Hugh thought, but why did that damn machine have to be so loud? Still, it meant he didn’t have to do it himself, which was a blessing. He hated housework. Why do houses get so dirty? he wondered. They’re closed systems, with little movement of air to blow in dirt, so why did he need to have it cleaned every fortnight? Anyway, he paid her well, better than his neighbours did theirs, and he was secretly proud of the fact.

This time, however, the noise was more of a bother than usual. It didn’t seem to rise and fall as usual; it just played a steady scream. He decided to investigate. And there she was, prostrate on the floor of the spare bedroom, eyes wide open, just lying there as the machine made its din. He switched it off and tried to rouse her. He felt for a pulse; there was none. She was clearly dead. Now what? He would have to call the police. He decided to call an ambulance, just in case he was wrong and she really was still alive.

The police arrived with the ambulance. Joan was pronounced dead and taken away. The police were curious as to why she had died so suddenly without any apparent warning. Hugh couldn’t give an answer. He hardly knew her. She had been recommended by the agency and had been meticulous in her work but hardly spoke to him. So while he tapped away at the computer, she had vacuumed his floors, mopped the kitchen, and generally tidied up. He was glad of her presence but had no special feeling towards her; she was just there, just Joan.

Now she was dead. What on earth had happened? The police seemed satisfied it was an accident of some sort. There was no suggestion of foul play; she had simply died on the spot. Still, he was curious himself as to what had happened. Had she had some kind of illness she had not mentioned? Or was the cleaner faulty—had she been electrocuted? He didn’t think that likely but decided to have it checked out just in case. He also wondered about her family. Would they blame him for her death? It was always a possibility.

It was only later that he realised he was shaken by the incident. Here was a true mystery. He wrote of mysteries all the time but had never encountered one until now. What should he do next? He really ought to notify the agency. They would not appreciate the news! He rang the agency number, but there was no answer. Surprised, he tried again. They were a twenty-four-hour service and should always be open. Not now. He looked at the card the police constable had given him. It seemed odd. It didn’t have the number of the local station but that of an obscure branch in the city. What the hell was going on?

He rang the number. He was passed around several people but was eventually connected to the police constable who had attended originally. The constable was polite, but Hugh could sense tension in his voice.

‘We’ll have to interview you at the station. Can you come in now? I’ll give you the address.’

He did so, and soon, Hugh was sitting at a large table with several police interrogating him.

‘We know who you are, but where did you get her from? She has no record on the police database, but there were several items of interest in her handbag. In particular, there was a quantity of ice and also some marijuana. What do you know about those?’

‘I don’t know a thing. She was recommended by the agency, and I hired her once a fortnight to clean the flat. Why? What’s the problem?’

‘She was clearly not who she says she was. The agency you mentioned doesn’t exist. How did you hear of it?’

‘I was told by a friend. She’s gone interstate now, but I have a contact number.’

‘We will need to get in touch, but that is for later.’

‘What do you know about your friend?’

‘Nothing much/ I met her at a writers’ function. We shared the same interest and wrote in the same genre. She was fun to know, had all kinds of odd jokes, things like that. Why? What is going on here, and who are you? You’re not just the police, are you?’

‘No. We investigate certain incidents like yours. Some people are not as they seem. We think they may be aliens. There are a number of persons of interest at the moment who are acting as a group to infiltrate our society. Your maid was one. We think she may have been here to report on a secret facility near where you live. I can’t go into details, but we are fairly certain that these people, or should I say creatures, are intent on invading us.’

Hugh was staggered. What was the man saying—that his cleaning lady had been an alien creature? It was nonsense. He had known her for over a year. How could she be other than who she said she was?

‘I’m curious, then. How did she die? She seemed perfectly OK to me.’

‘She died of asphyxiation. They don’t breathe oxygen as we do. They seem to rely more on carbon dioxide. We knew that because we found the implants they wear in their lungs to filter out the oxygen. She seems to have damaged herself somehow and couldn’t cope with the rich air we take for granted. Anyway, we’ll have to take you in for a thorough examination. We want to be sure you aren’t one of them.’

‘And if I am?’

‘You’ll be executed and dissected. We want to know where she came from. We have our suspicions but can’t be sure just yet. I must ask you to accompany us to the facility. We are due there about now.’

Hugh felt sick. What the hell was about to happen? This was outside anything he had ever imagined, let alone experienced. Silently, he nodded to the constable. Together, they proceeded to the police car. It was only then that he noticed the windows were blacked out. He suspected a trap. He stopped.

‘Get in, you don’t have a choice. If you call out to anyone, we will have to take them also. Just get in and let us get on with it.’

It was a short trip to the facility, a nondescript building he had walked past every day. He was ushered into a large room. There were several people in white gowns standing around.

‘Take off your clothes. We wish to examine you thoroughly.’

By now shaking violently, he attempted to do so. He couldn’t undo his shirt buttons and had to be helped. A bright light was shone in his face. Next, a probe was forced down his throat. It was extremely uncomfortable, and he coughed violently. At last, he was allowed to dress.

‘All right, you’re clear. You aren’t one of them. We’ll take you home, but you mustn’t speak of this to anyone. If others find out we are checking everyone, the aliens will disappear. We don’t want that. We want them where we can see them. Am I clear on that?’

‘Y-yes, not a word. Can I go home now?’

‘Constable, take Mr Spearman home. We’re done here.’

With that, he turned and walked over to talk to the others. The constable took Hugh’s arm.

‘Come on, we don’t have time to gawk. Let’s get you home.’

Finally home, Hugh immediately went to the toilet and was violently ill. It had been a close call. They hadn’t found the venous implant his people had taken to using; the lung implants had recently been abandoned. He wondered why the cleaning lady was still using one. Still, no harm done; he was able to report this latest incident.

‘The locals are becoming increasingly suspicious. We must go cautiously for now but strongly suggest we bring forward the invasion. They are ripe for harvesting. We should have a fine crop of fodder for the Hnarty. They will be pleased.’

A Hopeless Case

S he was a hopeless case. Everyone who knew her agreed; she could not be saved, nor did she want to be saved. Self-effacing, almost never speaking, she was a nobody. As she stood there, silent, staring down at her hands, the judge gave his verdict.

‘I can find no redeeming features in this case. You have been found guilty of identity theft, attempted murder of a doting father, assaulting three police officers, and stealing a car. You bit, swore at, and struck all three officers for no apparent reason when they asked you for proof of identity. You drove the stolen car over one of the officers’ feet and crashed into an oncoming vehicle. Next, you tried to drag the driver of the other vehicle out of her car to steal it too, but luckily for all concerned, you were restrained by the injured officer. You have given this court no reason for your actions. In fact, you have refused to answer any of the questions put to you.

‘I therefore have no choice but to sentence you to ten years in prison, with a non-parole period of not less than seven years. Take her down.’

Antonia stood and allowed the court officer to take her to the waiting police. She said nothing, her face betraying no emotion as she was escorted out of the building.

At the prison’s reception centre, she allowed herself to be strip-searched, again with no visible emotion, and changed into the prison uniform without saying a word. She was shown to her cell. There were three other inmates there. She saw them watching her. She lowered her eyes and stood awkwardly in front of them as they studied her carefully. After the escorting officer had left, one of them approached her.

‘I’m Sharon. I run this place. What I say goes. You do what you’re told and you’ll be all right. Don’t do what your told or try to do your own thing, and you’ll more than regret it—you’ll wish you’d never been born. Understand?’

Antonia stood there, her face impassive, still saying nothing. Sharon stepped forward, grasped her arms, and shook her.

‘Do you understand? I don’t tolerate the silent treatment. Say something—anything. What’s your name? Where do you come from? What have you done to get here?’

Antonia said nothing. A small tear glistened in the corner of her eye. Suddenly, she sank to the floor, sobbing. Still, she said nothing. The others stood looking at her. Then Sharon took her arm and dragged her upright.

‘I don’t care what happened or what you did. All I care about is that you respect me and the rest of us and do as you’re told. Is that clear?’

There was an awkward pause. Then Antonia nodded ever so slightly. The others backed away. She spoke for the first time in weeks.

‘I don’t care how bad it is in here. It has to be better than out there. This may be the lowest pit of hell. It’s better than where I come from. How do I get some dope? It’s the only thing keeping me alive. I’ll do anything, and I mean anything, but I must have the only support I’ve ever known. As for punishing me, there is nothing you can do that is worse than what I’ve already been through. If you kill me, it would be a blessed relief.’

Sharon stood there, a smile slowly forming on her face.

‘I guess you’ll do, at least for now. We’ll get you that dope, but you’ll have to pay for it, in cash and in kind, if you know what I mean.’

Antonia nodded. She knew what Sharon meant; she had endured far worse at home. If she had to be their plaything, so be it.

‘You’ll sleep over there. If you so much as make a sound to alert the screws, we’ll have no hesitation in killing you. We’re all in here for murder. None of us have anything to lose. Is that clear?’

Antonia nodded. Already, she was beginning to relax. This was no heaven, but at last she was delivered from hell. She had no illusions about what they wanted, but compared to what she’d endured at the hands of her own family, she felt she was finally safe. No, this was far better than the alternative. She thanked her lucky stars and the harshness of the judge for delivering her from the worst life she could imagine.

Lights out sounded, and the women prepared for bed. As she undressed, Antonia could feel the eyes of the other women on her. She had a great body. Years of intense working out had been her only solace. Now she prepared herself for their advances. She got into bed naked, waiting for their first moves. Sharon came up to her and lifted the covering. She slowly stroked Antonia’s exposed breasts. Antonia switched off, feeling nothing; a lifetime of self-preservation kicked in, and she let Sharon do as she wished. Finally, Sharon stopped.

‘Don’t worry, you’ll come to like it in the end. Just let it happen and you’ll be all right.’

She got up and left Antonia.

‘No one touches her. She’s mine. For now, let her sleep it off.’

Antonia rolled over and lay there. At least she hadn’t been bashed, or worse. Sharon had been quite gentle, and Antonia knew she would survive here. If this was the worst she had to endure, she would definitely be all right. She lay there, her mind going over the last few days’ events. She slept intermittently that night.

The siren sounded for the morning muster, and Antonia slowly rose from her bunk. The others watched her closely, and she felt some jealousy from a couple of them. She suspected she was now Sharon’s favourite. That would definitely put noses out of joint.

At breakfast, Sharon asked Antonia about her past.

‘What did they do to you if you didn’t mind last night?’

Antonia paused; she’d told no one about her family life. It was her deepest secret, and she had been determined no one would ever be privy to her private hell. Now she hesitated. She was beginning to like Sharon, despite or possibly because of what had occurred the previous night.

‘I was raped by my father when I was six. After Mum died, he would come to me every night. He even encouraged my three brothers to do so too. A couple of years ago, I got pregnant. I don’t know whose it was, but it had to be one of them. I’d had a boyfriend, Tim, but he suddenly disappeared. I think my brother Dan killed him and dumped the body in bushland near our house.

‘I wasn’t allowed to have an abortion. Dad was deeply religious and insisted I have the baby. Then one day soon, after it was born, he strangled it in front of me. He wouldn’t allow me to name it. It was thrown out with the rubbish. I wasn’t even allowed to bury it.

‘Anyway, Dad and the others used to beat me whenever anything went wrong or if they thought I wasn’t being cooperative enough. One day, after Dad had whipped me with a length of hose, I tried to strangle him with it. Then I stole his car and ran away. One of Tim’s friends had previously helped me get a false driver’s licence, and I tried to get out of the state, but the identity on the licence was that of a prominent barrister, and I was caught. So I ended up here. Dad made sure I got the worst possible defence counsel.

‘That’s about it. If this is the worst you can do, do it. I don’t care anymore. As far as I’m concerned, I’m already dead. I’ve been to hell. This is just a tiny piece of purgatory. Heaven is out of my reach, but at least I’m still here.’

Sharon nodded. There was a tear in her eye, and one of the women was about to remark when Sharon suddenly spoke.

‘I repeat, she’s mine. No one touches her but me. Is that clear?’

The others nodded their assent. She turned to Antonia.

‘What did you feel when I touched you?’

‘Nothing. I always switch off when that sort of thing happens.’

Sharon frowned.

‘I like to give pleasure. It gives me pleasure. What turns you on?’

‘Tim used to turn me on. He could be really gentle at times and then so vigorous at others that I was blown away. I prefer men like him, but I suppose I can get used to you as well.’

Sharon was clearly not happy with the response.

‘While you’re here, you pleasure me, and I pleasure you. The others will leave you alone.’

Antonia sighed and then nodded. She missed Tim and wished she’d been able to get away from it all as she had so desperately wanted. But purgatory it was; she decided she’d have to make of it what she could. She even missed the baby; it had been the symbol of all that had been the worst in her life, yet she had so quickly grown fond of its tiny presence. She made a promise to herself; no matter how bad her circumstances, she would make a better go of it than she had done previously.

A week later, Sharon came up to her after breakfast.

‘My brother Doug’s here. I want you to meet him. If I tell the screws you’re family, they may let you come with me. It’s worth a try.’

Curious, Antonia raised an eyebrow. Sharon laughed.

‘It’s OK. He’s been trying to get my conviction quashed. I was a set up by some crooked cops and the judge who was in their pocket. Doug’s been trying for years, but it looks like we may have a case at last. He’s got new evidence from another crook who’s just been released. I’ll be out of here really soon. Anyway, if we can, we’ll get you released too. The new solicitor sounds really good. If he can get me off, he’ll have no difficulty getting you out too. What do you say—are you with me?’

Antonia sighed. She was beginning to like Sharon. She would certainly miss her when she was gone. As for being released herself, she had no illusions in that area. She had at least seven years in this place. No, she would go along with it but without any expectations.

To her great surprise, the warder let Antonia accompany Sharon to the visitors’ room. Then Doug arrived. Tall, dark, intensely handsome, and so like Tim, he took Antonia’s breath away. She especially noted the wicked grin on his face as he greeted his sister.

‘What’s up, sis? Who’s the new slag?’

Antonia bristled at the term.

Sharon touched her on the arm to reassure her.

‘She’s a new inmate, Antonia. She sleeps with us. She’s all right.’

‘Sure is. You do get the best.’

Antonia felt humiliated at this exchange. She was being discussed like a piece of meat. She glared at him. On the one hand, he reminded her so much of Tim; yet on the other, he was here to take her only friend away.

Sharon continued.

‘I want her to come with me. What can you do?’

Antonia stared at him. Could Doug really get her out of there?

Doug looked at her.

‘What’s your story? How come you’re in here?’

Sharon gave her a quick glance.

‘Go on, tell him what you told me.’

Conscious of the guard nearby, Antonia told Doug all she’d told Sharon.

Doug frowned. He paused a while before speaking.

‘I reckon my solicitor could make a case of that. He’s pretty much on the ball. Can I tell him what you’ve told me?’

Antonia nodded.

‘It’s all true. They killed my boyfriend and repeatedly raped me. I want them all locked up for good. I don’t care if they’re family—they betrayed me and deserve to go to hell.’

Doug nodded.

‘I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.’

Turning to his sister, he grinned.

‘Sis, you’ve got great taste as always. I’ll see you later.’

As he left, he waved to Antonia.

Sharon nudged her in the ribs, grinning.

‘We’ve both got the same taste in lovers. You’ll do all right.’

The days passed, and Antonia came to find she no longer simply endured Sharon’s attention—she was coming to like it. Then came the day.

‘Doug’s here. He’s got fantastic news. He’s found the clerk of the judge who sent you down. She claims you were set up by your family—the judge knew all about the abuse. He owed your father a heavy gambling debt, hence the verdict. Better still, I’ve been exonerated. We’ll both be out of here. What do you say—will you come home with us?’

Antonia frowned.

‘Isn’t there a law against our being together—consorting or something like that?’

‘It doesn’t apply here. Quashing my conviction means it never happened. We’ll be able to do what we like. Besides, Doug really likes you.’

Antonia blinked. She tried to take it all in. She liked Doug but wasn’t quite sure she wanted to live with him or anyone else for that matter. Still, it was a far better outcome than she’d ever dreamed possible. She smiled.

‘OK. I’d love to go with Doug if it meant we could be together and out of here.’

‘Good. I’ll tell Doug to hurry up and get on with it. I don’t want to spend another second in this hellhole.’

A month later, they were free. Meanwhile, Sharon had been declared Antonia’s guardian and guarantor. As they drove away from the prison, Antonia felt she had at last found a real family.

‘Will you come to visit us, Sharon? Now that Doug and I are staying at his place, I won’t see you so often. Please come and visit when you can.’

Sharon laughed.

‘Didn’t Doug tell you? We’ll all be staying together. Now we’re one big happy family. We won’t need to visit. We’ll be right there in each other’s pocket. Is that OK with you?’

Antonia sighed happily and snuggled down into the seat. Home at last. She finally had the family, the life she had always dreamed of. Not that she had ever dreamed of having two lovers, but what the heck, she deserved to be happy—doubly happy.

‘Perfect.’

She said no more, just sat there watching the scenery flash by, as her life had flashed by, as the future would ultimately flash by. She was content at last. The future would take care of them all.

A Wonderful View

E rin sat there, content. The sun warmed her back as she dangled her legs over the edge of the roof. She felt the pull of the harness and knew she was quite safe. Tom, her husband, had insisted on it when they’d first set out to paint the roof, to repair it and improve its outlook. They’d spent many days on that roof, repairing it and repainting it, and she’d enjoyed every moment. She loved the view and the sense of complete freedom she felt up there.

Finally, she decided it was time to descend and prepare dinner. She was greeted from below.

‘Hi, honey, mind if I join you? I could do with a change. Work’s been a horror.’

She chuckled. It was Tom.

‘I was just going to get dinner. Mind the ladder, you know it’s a bit rickety.’

Tom’s head popped over the edge of the guttering.

‘I can see why you like it up here. There’s a certain distance between us and the rest of the world. All our troubles are far away out there.’

She smiled and then suddenly frowned.

‘Hullo, there’s someone in the Greens’ backyard. Aren’t they away for the week?’

‘You’re right, there is someone there. They’re digging up the vegetable patch. Who on earth is that? That’s a hell of a big hole for vegetables.’

‘They’re obviously intruders. I think we should call the police. Can you do that, dear? It’ll take me a while to get down.’

Tom quickly descended and hurried into the house. Gingerly, Erin stood up and cautiously descended. She found him just hanging up.

‘They’re coming immediately. They said there’d been several reports of an intruder. It’s funny, at one point, I could have sworn it was Bob Green, but it couldn’t have been—he’s away with Mary at her parents’. I suspect we’ll find out soon enough.’

The police arrived, and Tom gave them a brief description of what he’d seen.

After the police were gone, Erin decided to return to the roof. She was soon in her favourite spot and watched curiously as the two officers walked up and down the vegetable patch. One made a call on his radio, and they then returned to the police car. Erin wondered what would happen next.

Soon, two more police cars arrived, and more policemen got out. They had spades in their hands, and all four officers walked over to the vegetable patch and started digging. They dug for most of the afternoon before one of them called to his companions.

‘I have something—it’s a body, but I don’t think it’s human. It looks like a large dog.’

‘OK, this is clearly a false alarm. Let’s go.’

The police left, and Erin sat there. The whole thing puzzled her. She was sure there was more to it than a buried dog and decided they’d have to investigate it themselves.

She found Tom in the lounge room watching a rerun of Miami Vice, his favourite TV show.

‘Tom, there’s something odd here. Why would Bob come back from holiday to bury a dog? It makes no sense. There may be something else in that hole, and the dog may be a decoy. I think we should dig it up and see what Bob was really burying.’

She saw Tom wince. He obviously didn’t want to be disturbed. He sat there, not responding.

‘Honey, please, something’s wrong here. What if it’s Mary under that dog? What if they didn’t go to her parents after all? What if he killed her and buried her there?’

‘Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation. There’s no point stirring up a can of worms that may well be quite empty. Why don’t you go back up on the roof and enjoy the rest of the afternoon?’

‘No, there’s something wrong here. I’m going to dig up the dog and see what’s under it.’

‘Now, look, honey, we can’t go digging up someone else’s backyard. How would you feel if Tom and Mary dug up ours?’

‘I don’t care. I’m doing it. You can help or not.’

She heard Tom sigh.

‘OK, if you must. Don’t say I don’t support your projects, even the crazy ones.’

‘Thanks, dear, you won’t regret this. I’m sure there’s something fishy about the whole thing.’

‘Right, and what happens when they arrive back while we’re up to our necks in their vegies?’

‘I’ll sort that out then. Let’s just go and do it.’

Together, they made their way to the garden. The fresh soil left by the police showed them where to dig. Presently, Tom found the remains of the dog. With some difficulty, they hauled it out and then continued.

Suddenly, Erin cried out.

‘Oh, no, no, please, not Mary. Tom, there really is a body here. It looks like Mary. Call the police back. I knew there had to be something here. I was right.’

Hurriedly, they scrambled out of the hole. Erin followed Tom home and, with shaking hands, made a pot of tea, while he phoned the police again.

This time, two police cars and a large van arrived, sirens blaring. The original two officers came to the door. They were clearly abashed, well aware they’d initially failed. Tom and Erin led them to the hole. The body was quickly exhumed. The officer in charge spoke.

‘There may be others. We need to dig up the entire garden.’

He turned to Tom and Erin.

‘I must ask you to leave. This is now a crime scene. We’ll need to interview you back at the station. In the meantime, please don’t go anywhere.’

Tom and Erin nodded and returned home. Silently, Erin poured the tea, and they sat there, cups on their laps, neither speaking. About an hour later, the doorbell rang.

‘We’re done here. There were two bodies, a woman and a man. We’ll need you to identify them if you can. Could you come down to the station with us now?’

At the station, they were briefly interviewed about what they had seen before being escorted to the mortuary. Erin demurred when asked to identify the bodies, but Tom confirmed they were Mary and Bob Green.

Erin was confused.

‘I saw Bob in the garden. How could he be one of the victims?’

The officer in charge replied, ‘We believe the killer had a close resemblance to Mr Green. He must have seen you sometime on the roof beforehand and used his similarity to confuse you. The dog was a clever decoy. We have a