Close To HomeA Story by Bubo
Around 1967, I went missing for a few hours. This could have been me, luckily not. The Jersey Beast reigned terror on the island for 11 years, and was caught in 1971.
It was a terrible mistake.
He assumed Portia had it covered, and she assumed Stewart had it covered.
Neither had it covered, as they discovered when Portia came into his home office and asked the question that propelled them into hell.
“Honey, where is Rhea?”
At first he looked at her quite blankly, his mind had been so far away conjuring up images of his new secretary with her, long blonde, honey hair and china blue eyes, bent into various seductive poses, that it took a good few seconds to come back down to earth and his erection to start subsiding.
He put his hands into his lap.
“Rhea? She's with you?”
“No, you said you would keep an eye out for her while I finished the letter to Mum”
He shook his head. Had he said that?
“I thought you had Rhea, darling”
His wife's face changed, similar to a bright blue sky being overtaken with black storm clouds, lines began to appear as deep creases. She pondered his words, as if the process was hurting her.
“So where is she?! I've been downstairs nearly an hour!” Portia whispered
If Portia had been honest with herself, she would have known her mind had also been elsewhere.
It had been three days since Seth had called, telling her the affair was over. Stewart was his best friend, and he was finding the lies a struggle, his wife had already become suspicious after a receipt for a hotel had been found when his suit went into the dry cleaners. He had managed to blag that one, but he felt it was a matter of time before the s**t hit the fan, and he wanted to put a stop to it before people got hurt. Or they got in too deep.
Portia had not taken it well. She loved the sex, she loved being loved. She thought she might love Seth.
Since the birth of Rhea four years ago, Stewart had become less attentive towards her, love making was snatched in between naps, and that was if the couple were not collapsing from exhaustion from a baby that rarely slept. They talked less. They cuddled less. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that having a child changed things, and both escaped to places where secrets were held.
The one common thread that ran through both Stewart and Portia's mind was the Jersey Beast.
The beast that snatched up children and raped them.
Portia flew out of the door shouting for Rhea, Stewart could hear her heels clattering at great speed down the wooden stair case, and followed.
They frantically searched the house, every wardrobe, cupboard, under the bed, all Rhea's little hiding places.
As Portia entered the kitchen she felt the breeze on her face, enveloping her hair, the smell of cut grass still fresh danced lightly in the air.
She noticed the back door open, the cat sitting on the porch looking thoroughly bored, and screamed
Sobbing, she could smell the rubber mask of the Jersey Beast, feel his nail studded wristlets graze against her skin, and the full horror of all the circulating stories came crashing down upon her while Stewart reached for the phone.
© 2010 Bubo
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on September 23, 2010
Last Updated on September 23, 2010
London, God, United Kingdom
AboutSo, I write.... I'm a Scorpio.....A Jersey CI bean, with complications in life that were never expected. Some say I am over emotional, I say I am just more aware. I believe we all have a gift, i.. more..
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