The Sister(189)

Tonight was different. Something woke her before she’d reached the end. The last vestiges of a sound replayed in her consciousness. What was that? It sounded as if someone had popped a paper bag. The noise came from downstairs.

She reassured herself. The house alarm would have sounded. It’s nothing. Silent trepidation stretched on like the space between lightning and thunder – waiting for the rumble that confirmed it was far away.





Once inside, the intruder eased his way up the stairs; a tread groaned as he put weight onto it. He froze, listening for any sign that the movement had been detected. Easing his foot from the step, he continued his ascent.





Jackie lifted her head she thought she’d heard the stair tread complain. It was the step. She knew it. Knew exactly which one it was. The girls were in bed, so how? When the toothbrush had run out of charge, and I'd… A feeling of dread came over her. The alarm! I never heard it beep when I set it.

‘Oh no,’ she whispered, on the edge of panic. ‘There’s someone down there!’

Frantically, she started fumbling to open the bottom drawer, searching inside for her panic alarm, and the knife she kept in there. She knocked the table lamp over and caught it, but not before the base rocked loudly against the tabletop.

The intruder, almost at the top, hesitated. Someone’s moving around!

Accelerating up the remaining stairs two at a time, he turned as he reached the landing; with eyes acclimatised to the darkness, he spotted a door handle turning. He moved up right outside and pressed himself flat against the wall.

Jackie opened the bedroom door.

He swung into view, startling her.

The Gasman!

She fell backwards over her own feet in her haste to get away, stunned by how quickly he’d got to her room. She struggled up into a sitting position, trying to catch her breath. She gasped in terror when she saw him in the light of her bedroom.

Then he was on her.

‘Oh, n—ummph!’ A huge hand clamped over her mouth.

‘Is she here?’ The voice was low, distorted by the mask. Her situation and the menace he managed to inject into just three words left her wide-eyed with fear. She shook her head at the question, desperate to protect Tina and Eilise.

He pushed himself closer. The cold perspex touched her face. ‘I’ll kill you if you’re lying!’

She could smell his smoker’s breath through the mask. A wave of revulsion washed over her, quickly overtaken by terror. She was about to be raped and murdered. The ordeal she’d endured years ago came back in an instant, crippling her limbs; she couldn’t move. Jackie – the girl who vowed never to be a victim again, the girl who'd decked a soldier once – had gone to pieces, her muscles turned to jelly.

Her vulnerability excited him; he was too far gone to turn back now. He forgot about gassing her, there was only one thing on his mind.

His breathing ragged and amplified by the mask, he squatted next to her and parting her knees easily, ran a latex gloved hand up the inside of her thigh, hooking a finger into the crotch of her panties; she gagged dryly – a double retch.

Of all his victims, only one other had reacted that way. His mind accelerated back in time. He pushed her hair back with his free hand, scrutinising her closely. It was her! Older, plumper, but her. The one that got away. The Cornwall Girl! His penis stiffened as blood surged into it, throbbing in anticipation.

Jackie caught a movement in the corner of her eye. Was it one of the girls? She fixed her stare on the masked face holding his attention. He stared back with an all-consuming intensity and ripped off her knickers.

‘Do-not-touch-me!’ she shouted, no longer worried about waking the girls, the words empowered her limbs; she struggled wildly as his weight pressed down on her.

He ignored her efforts to fight back, overpowering her with ease. Only one thing was on his mind, as a cat fixed on its prey; nothing could distract him.





The Gasman pinned her to the floor. He wrestled himself into a position where he could easily control her with an arm barred across her neck. Her flailing hands didn’t bother him. He didn’t even care about the noise now. His free hand unbuckled his belt and started down his fly.

Jackie’s eyes bulged as she strained against choking; her voice sounded strangulated, but the words were clear. ‘For God’s sake get it over with!’

Behind the mask, the man sneered.

An explosion went off inside his head.

‘Leave – my – mum – alone!’

The girl’s voice… What the…! She’d hit him with something. Instinct kicked in; he rolled over and caught himself on one knee, not quite going down. A ten count started in his head. Ten-nine. Got to get up! He closed his eyes. An unbearable brightness scorched them and intensified in the same way a light bulb flares before it dies. S-she’s b-broken your head! A stuttering voice told him. In no position to defend himself, he had to get out.

Eilise brought the rounders bat down hard again, catching him on the shoulder as he stumbled to his feet. Through a bloody mist, he saw Eilise with a younger girl behind her. Jackie was on her feet screaming, ‘Get out. GET OUT!’ Her tiny fists bunched; her face contorted with anger; she activated the screamer.

For a few seconds, he stared balefully, gathering his senses. Eilise raised the bat above her head to warn him off. He faltered as he turned unsteadily, loping off. Eilise followed a few feet behind, to make sure he really did leave the house.