Here's a little treat, a snip from my upcoming book, there will be mistakes/ errors as this is the 1st draft of these chapters.
Family First
Tuesday, 11th 13:02 pm
The sun was beaming down upon Newbury, Rachel wiped the sweat from her brow. Her mother Francine drew two fans from her bag and handed one to Rachel then fanned herself.
“This heat is atrocious,” Francine waved to Arnold as he stood by the tavern door looking at his pocket watch.
“Yes, there’s no way to escape it. Thanks for the fan mother.”
“No problem, I wonder if your father’s drunk already.”
“He’s not swaying. That’s a good sign.”
“Hmm, maybe he’s sobered up,” Francine lowered the fan as Arnold leant in for a kiss. “How many have you had?” she coughed and wafted the stench away.
“About five.”
“And the rest,” she brought the fan back up to her face.
“It was just a few drinks with friends, no harm done.”
“Father, are we going to lunch?”
“No, we’re going on a little river trip but first I need to get some clothes for this work trip I must attend.”
As they walked along Rupert Avenue along the outskirts of new shops the scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air. Rachel’s pulse quickened as they reached the end of the road and headed up into the centre of town. The bakery lay ahead, the door opened, “Arnold, my brother,” Uncle Victor stepped out, his body sagged with age and overindulgence. Arms outstretched he threw them around Arnold. He released his grip and kissed the back of Francine’s hand, “You haven’t aged a day.” She blushed. Victor snorted then wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Little Rachel. Not so little now I see.”
“Victor, I just need to go to the shop for some clothes, Rachel why don’t you stay here with your uncle, we won’t be long.”
“She’ll be fine,” Victor draped his thick arm over her shoulder, sweat dripped down the back of her neck as his pungent odour lingered. Her heart thumped against her chest as her eyes followed her family until they were out of sight. A man stood beside a bench outside the clothes shop watching Rachel, his collar turned up and face turned denying her any clear view of his face. Victor’s heavy frame pushed her along escorting her to that familiar place where nightmares were a reality. He pulled the blinds and locked the door. “Alone at last.”
“They’ll be back soon,” Rachel stepped back behind the counter.
“Not soon enough for you,” Victor unzipped his trouser, “let’s get back to how we used to be.”
“No, never again.” she shook her head, he pulled his trousers off with his underwear. “I’d rather die that touch you again!”
“Don’t be like that. You used to be so willing. Generous.” He stepped closer, Rachel looked around the room, there was a door behind her and a work surface curving along the far walls. A rack of knives caught her eye, she moved back towards the work-top. A flour-covered rolling pin rested beside some trays and a knife.
Glen pulled down his jacket collar and walked towards the bakery. He looked at the blind on the door and window with furrowed brows. There was a sliver of space at the end of the window, he moved his head to peer inside.
“I’m not that girl anymore.”
“Evidently not,” he reached down, rubbing his growing erection. Rachel leant back against the worktop.
“If we do this it’s the last time I’m ever going to. So, make the most of it.”
Saliva ran down his chin and dripped to the floor, he stood pleasuring himself as she lifted her dress and sat atop the work surface, legs spread.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, “look at you all grown up now.” He wiped the saliva from his chin with the back of his free hand. “Touch yourself,” he demanded, Rachel pulled the top of her dress down exposing her breasts, his mouth opened wide, he masturbated faster as she squeezed her breasts. He stepped closer.
“Wait! Can’t have me yet,” she told in a firm tone and scowled. He stopped but continued pleasuring himself. “I’ll tell you when you can have me.”
Glen made a fist. He looked left and followed the path towards the back of the bakery. The door creaked open into the hall beside the pantry door, two doors lay on the other side of the hall. He crept closer and edged the left door open. It was an office. Voices came from beyond the other door.
“I can’t hold on much longer, I must have you!”
“Not yet, come closer.”
Glen opened the door ajar and was greeted by a large flared boil sat on Victor’s right rear cheek beside a cluster of blisters and dead skin beneath a tuft of hair. Glen turned away and covered his mouth as a pungent odour of sweat and body odour assailed his nostrils.
“Closer,” she called, Victor took the final steps, the tip of his penis touched the counter, he reached down and rubbed it against the inside of her thigh. “Take my panties down.”
Victor’s eyes lit up, he ran his fingers over her knees, thick chunks of dried flour covered his fingers and fell onto her bare skin and counter top. He panted harder and clasped her knickers with both hands and yanked them down with ferocity and urgency, she gasped. He salivated and licked his lips, she leant back.
“Can I have you now?”
“Not yet, I want your tongue inside me first.”
Victor crouched between her legs and spat, she closed her eyes and covered her mouth as his saliva slowly ran down her thigh and vagina. He licked his cracked lips and edged closer. Her hand reached back fumbling for the knife.
His tongue glided up her inner thigh, “mmm, tastes just like I remember.”
“You like that don’t you?” she moaned, her fingers ran over the rolling pin. “Get your tongue right in there for me.”
“I will.” He rubbed his nose over her clitoris then stroked it with two fingers, she grasped the knife and sat up. Victor flicked his tongue against her vagina. She wrapped both hands around the handle and drew in a breath. Still, he continued his feast.
She plunged the knife down into his back. He grabbed her legs and howled in agony. She yanked the blade free and stabbed again and again and again. Victor held her legs and began slumping to the floor, blood ran from his mouth down her leg.
“You dirty bastard,” she stabbed once again, “you horrible, dirty, ugly man.” The knife came out crimson and dripping. Victor fell to the floor, his blood poured over the white tiled floor. “Fucking bastard,” she dropped off the counter and dressed. Victor reached out, mouth overflowing with blood, his complexion paled.
Glen eased the door shut and snuck out the back door, he dragged his feet along the path back to the main road. Arnold and Francine approached bags in hand.
“Glen! So nice to see you, it’s been a while,” she smiled.
“We’re just here with Rachel, she’s in the bakery with my brother.”
“Rachel yeah, I… she’s,” he raised his hand then lowered it to his side. “She, she, she…”
“Glen are you alright?” Francine brushed his arm.
“Hmm, yes, yes, fine, I’m fine.”
“We better go get Rachel,” Arnold stepped past Glen.
“Wait!” Glen blasted and rushed ahead of them, Francine jumped, “she’s not there.”
“Why isn’t she?” Arnold frowned.
“Where’s Rachel?” Francine asked.
“She left. She said she would meet you at home.”
“Oh ok. Well, I best see my brother, if you don’t mind please step aside.”
“He isn’t there, the door’s locked, the blinds are down. He just left, he said something about meeting someone.”
“I don’t believe a word of this!” Francine pushed past, Glen stepped ahead of them again.
“They’re not there. I just saw them leave.”
“You just said that.” Arnold stepped towards Glen, their noses inches from the each other. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Rubbish, you know something. Why would they be there then leave just like that?”
“I’m telling you the truth. Rachel wanted me to tell you she was going home because she wasn’t feeling well. Victor closed up as he was going to see someone, least that’s what he told me.”
“Whose home has she gone to?”
“Ours.”
“Come on Arnold, we should go home,” Francine scowled at Glen, Arnold eyed him up and down.
“You better not be lying, if something has happened to her I’ll kill you,” he uttered in a stern voice. Glen stepped aside head bowed and heart thumping.
Curiosity Killed the Cat
14:53 pm
Glen tiptoed towards his front door, the door was ajar. He pushed it open and stepped inside. Whistling and humming. The noise got louder.
“Rachel… Rachel, honey, where are you?” he stood in the hall, his hands shaking and face dripping with perspiration.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she continued humming. Glen pulled an umbrella from its stand and placed his hand behind his back and followed the joy-full melody to its source. “You’re home early,” she said chopping some veg.
His eyes fell towards the knife. “There was an, an accident.”
She lifted her head, her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness, what happened? You’re dripping with sweat! Why are you shaking?”
“I saw, I saw… something.” He leant against the door frame.
Rachel put the knife down and wiped her hands on her apron, “let me get you a drink.”
“No!” he shouted, she grabbed the table in fright and stared at him, “sorry… sorry, I’ll get it.” He placed the umbrella by the door and rushed to the sink and poured a cup of water. He drank it then took another.
“What on earth did you see at work?”
“I can’t say.”
“Ok, well if you want to talk about it-”
“Just leave it!” he bellowed.
Rachel resumed chopping the veg, “we’ve got beef casserole later.”
“Why?” he breathed.
“Pardon?”
Glen walked back towards the umbrella. “Why did you do it?”
“I thought it would be a nice change. We haven’t had it for a while.”
“I’m not…” he picked up the umbrella, “I’m not talking about the food.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I saw you earlier.”
“With my parents?” her chopping slowed, “I was with my parents, you know that.”
“I saw you… with him.” He held the umbrella tight behind his back.
“Oh, and what did you see?”
“You killed him,” Rachel stopped slicing and stared at the chopping board. “You killed that man like he was nothing.” She scrunched her face. “You exposed yourself to him.”
She stabbed the knife into the chopping board, “you have no idea what I went through. He used to,” her chin quivered, “he… touched me, made me do things to him when I was younger.” Tears streamed down her face and onto the table.
“And that makes it alright to kill him?”
“Yes, he had it coming.” She wiped her face.
“Would you do the same to me?” he pulled the umbrella around and gripped it with both hands. Rachel shook her head.
“I’d never hurt you.”
“Bullshit!” he pointed the end at her, “after seeing that I’ll never trust you.”
“Then kill me,” Rachel closed her eyes and sobbed, footfalls drew nearer. “Get it over with, I’ve had enough of being your punchbag.” Arms embraced her in a tight vice grip drawing air from her lungs. she opened her eyes, Glen rested his head on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry for everything.”
“It’s not your fault. Your father used to beat you and your mother, don’t blame yourself. It’s his fault.” Glen took her face into his hand then kissed her tender lips. She closed her eyes as his hand ran down her face and neck. He ran his other hand down her chest and over her breasts then moved his hand away.
Scrunch, thump. Rachel gasped, her eyes widened, she gripped Glen’s arms and stared into his eyes, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.