The Sister(43)
Half an hour later, he reached the broad shale beach, where the stream flattened out on a bend, before dropping away. The water gurgled, as it darted shiny and silver, through the rocks. The dense woods looked unchanged, except that someone had put up more clooties. This puzzled him; there were dozens of them tied in the branches of a whitethorn tree hanging over the bend in the stream. There wasn’t a spring there. What did these damn ignorant, new age, seekers-after-something, think they were doing? Fighting back the urge to tear them down, he lit a cigarette. The smell of the woods set his heart thumping as a parade of memories started in his head, he felt himself becoming aroused. About to embark on a few minutes of fantasy, he unzipped himself, and then almost panicked when he heard female voices carried on the breeze. Tilting his head, he stood still, listening intently, tuning into the direction of the sound.
He moved away from the undergrowth, and stopped in his tracks, retreating into the cover of the shade once more. Three girls were moving away from him. He looked at the stub of the cigarette, took one last drag, right down to the butt and flicking it away, started up the slope just inside the tree line, stalking them.
Higher up, the path moved away from the trees leading to an open meadow of tall grass. From there, it climbed steeply up to the ridge. The stalker closed the gap with surprising speed, halving the distance between them. One girl lagged behind. The other two, clearly engrossed in conversation, marched on ahead, oblivious to the lengthening gap.
He measured the distance to the top and gauged the pace with which they were walking.
It was too risky. If he’d given in to reckless temptation every time the desire was on him, he’d have been behind bars long before now for sure.
Outlined by the sun shining through their thin summer dresses, the silhouettes of their bodies bound him in a spell. The leader girls were skinny; he’d no time for skinny girls. The other had fallen behind, now over a hundred yards from her friends. Fully developed, the shape of her excited him; the roundness, the curves, the gap at the top of her legs where the sun glared through the thin cotton dress. His brief masturbation stirred up feelings, which now overpowered him. The two girls disappeared over the lip at the top, out of sight. He knew it was too risky, but if he moved quickly…
The long grass allowed him to creep close to her, just outside her peripheral vision. He avoided looking at her directly, just in case she got the feeling that someone was watching her.
Despite his precaution, she turned quite suddenly and looked in his direction.
He dropped out of sight instantly. A few seconds later, he peered out from his hiding place, heart hammering, and mouth watering. Too late to turn away from it now.
He broke cover on her blind side, crossing the space between them like a lion closing in on its prey and then he was on her, drawing the cold steel tip of his knife across the skin of her face, she shivered at its touch. Sweet, plump, beautiful, within seconds he was inside her. The realisation she was a virgin drove him crazy; when the revulsion on her face registered with him, she only hastened the end.
He started to choke the life out of her. What happened next took him aback, for a second she looked different, as if someone had swapped places with her. Those few decisive seconds saved her life. As he tightened his grip around her throat once more, a clear commanding voice shouted at him. ‘GET – OFF – HER!’ The voice held no fear. It stopped him dead. He looked up sharply; he could have killed all three if he chose. That was what set him apart. He was clever. Sparking a manhunt didn’t feature in his plans. Quickly turning away, he took off and ran, crashing and stumbling back to the car, his only thought was to get away. This time he’d f*cked up, gone too close to the wire.
It had been too risky; he shouldn’t have gone for it; he knew that, but he’d gone for it anyway. Jeez! Out of control, head spinning – he couldn’t focus. What just happened had never happened before. These were credible witnesses to his crime, not like the kid.
Change unsettled him. Now it was inevitable. A fury rose within him, and it was hard to control. If he didn’t get a grip, he’d end up doing something stupid and all the years of meticulous care, undone by a few crazed moments. He had to get home; he would shave his face clean, cut his hair and dye it.
He roared out of the car park, out into the country lane. In a daze, driving faster than the road allowed, he pulled a cigarette from its pack, lit it and almost careered off the road.
Deep inhalation, slow exhalation, deep, slow, calming, he wound his window down to get air into the car, to cool down and clear his head.
He arrived at a T-junction and turned left. He was now on a B road headed towards home.
‘Be careful now!’ he hissed to himself. ‘Slow down. It’s the last thing you want, bombing along drawing attention to yourself!’
The police would be out looking soon, and he wanted to get as far away as possible from where he’d just been. He started getting angry, berating himself with a woman’s voice. It startled him. His mother’s voice? Sweet Jesus, am I going crazy? If she’d kept up with her friends, it would never have happened.
The more he tried, the harder it was to concentrate. He ran through the things he’d have to do now. The job he had lined up. Can’t take that now; she’s f*cked that up for you. No, wait. If you don’t, will somebody think... No – just get away. You can think it through later.
That night as he lay in bed, he counted the way he always did, to bring his thoughts into order. He drifted afterwards until he thought about all the girls he’d ever known, albeit, most of them he’d known only briefly, playing through the different outcomes that might have been. It beats counting sheep. A few minutes of that and he’d be asleep, but not tonight. Tonight he was thinking about the one that got away.