Perfect Day

by Kris Lillyman

  And in that split-second Sam’s dreadful rage returned.

  ***

  The moment Miri stepped out of the elevator everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

  As the doors closed behind her, she suddenly saw her husband tearing down the corridor towards her, a knife in his outstretched hand and a murderous expression on his face.

  She felt her legs buckle as terror shot through her, yet somehow she remained standing as Vas jumped protectively in front of her. She knew Vas was no match for Gillespie and the fear she had for herself was quickly replaced by fear for her friend.

  However, she suddenly realised that someone was behind her husband, chasing after him - someone she was certain she knew.

  Surely it was just fear playing tricks with her mind. After all, it was impossible. It could not be.

  Yet as she stared in disbelief, she knew it was no mistake. The person she could see was no figment of her imagination and her fear instantly turned to elation.

  It was him. He had come back to her.

  It was Sam.

  ***

  Gillespie was less than three strides away from Vasily when Sam brought him down with a rugby tackle.

  The doctor kicked and struggled as he lashed out with the knife, quickly twisting his body so that his back was flat to the ground in a bid to fight off his assailant.

  But Sam was well-trained in hand to hand combat and as he scrambled on top of the would-be-attacker, he elbowed him hard in the stomach to subdue him.

  With Gillespie winded, Sam head-butted him to incapacitate him further then clamped one of his thick forearms across the doctor’s throat whilst simultaneously seizing the wrist of his knife hand and slamming it hard against the wall.

  The painful impact caused the knife to fly from his grip and skitter across the floor as Sam locked his knees heavily over Gillespie’s arms, trapping them with his bodyweight so that his victim could barely move.

  “Enough!” Sam shouted, assuming the man beneath him to be some random maniac, “You have no business here!”

  “I have every rite to be here,” Gillespie wheezed, trying to shrug off the effects of the head-butt whilst gasping for breath. “Every rite in the fucking world!”

  Sam was confused and looked up at Vas. “Do you know this guy?”

  Yet Vas was too stunned to speak. He had been too concerned about Gillespie to notice anyone in pursuit so was completely taken aback to see that it was Sam who had saved them.

  The shock of it, coupled with the relief of his friend’s safe return was almost overwhelming and he was rendered temporarily speechless.

  He turned instinctively to Miri for support, hoping that she might assist him and Sam followed his gaze.

  “Christ, Miri,” Sam said, looking at her beautiful yet bruised face, “who the hell did that to you?”

  She looked down at Sam, the man she still loved with all her heart, who she never thought she would see again, instantly lost in his kind blue eyes and seeing her love reflected back.

  “He did,” she replied, her voice cracking as she pointed at Gillespie.

  Again Sam was confused. “What? You mean it was him that hurt you?” It was simply beyond comprehension. “Why?”

  A tear of despair trickled down Miri’s cheek, “Because that’s what he does. Because he’s—“

  “He’s what, Miri?” Sam said, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

  “Because he’s my husband,” she said.

  ***

  The words hit Sam like a kick in the gut. Suddenly all strength drained from his body and with the fight gone, he rolled off Gillespie who, puffing and wheezing and still struggling with the effects of the head-butt scrambled quickly to his feet.

  As soon as he was upright he lunged for Miri again but with Sam clearly shell-shocked Vas threw himself in front of her once more, determined to protect his friend at all costs.

  “They’re married, Sam,” Vas urgently explained, talking to his friend whilst squaring off against the doctor, “but she’s trying to leave him. That’s why she’s with me. She needed my help cos she was too terrified to do it by herself - the bastard beats her for Christ’s sake, beats her all the goddamn time—“

  “Shut your mouth you fat Russian prick!” Gillespie snarled. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do with my wife!“

  He drew back his fist and threw a punch aimed directly at Vas’ chin but before it could connect a hand grabbed his arm, stopping the blow mid-flight.

  Unbeknownst to Gillespie, Sam had jumped up behind him, the idea of someone laying hands on Miriam causing his strength to return with a vengeance.

  “Is that true?” Sam interjected, his hand still clamped on Gillespie’s arm as he looked at Miri.

  “Yes,” she replied firmly, eschewing her fears and determinedly speaking out against her husband. “Every word of it is true. I hate him and don’t ever want to see him again for as long as I live.”

  “Be quiet you bitch!” Spat Gillespie but it was one insult too far and Sam, having heard more than enough, span him around and punched him hard on the nose to silence him.

  The doctor’s legs gave way and he fell on his behind, blood streaming from his nostrils as he stared up at Sam who was looming menacingly over him.

  “You heard her,” Sam said. “You come after her anymore - ever try to harm her again in any way and you’ll answer to me.”

  “And me,” Vas said, stepping up beside his friend.

  “Me too,” added Alina, who suddenly appeared from nowhere at her husband’s shoulder.

  “She’s not alone now,” Sam continued. “We’ve got her back and always will have - so you’d best move on, go beat on someone else, because Miri is protected - and believe me, you’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with or what we’re capable of.”

  Gillespie wriggled backwards out of harm’s way, before clambering to his feet once more. He looked pathetic.

  “You’ve not heard the last of this,” he whimpered, sounding slightly pathetic.

  “Yeah? Well bring it on,” Sam replied, his face utterly resolute.

  Yet Gillespie’s threat was clearly empty. Indeed, when faced with a more powerful opponent, he showed himself for the coward he truly was. Although happy enough to beat up women or those he considered weaker than himself he had no stomach for a real fight. What is more, now the red mist of madness had lifted, good sense was starting to prevail once more.

  “You know what?” He said, staggering back a few paces and hitting the button for the lift. “Take her. She’s yours. I’m done.”

  Then, as the lift arrived and the doors slid open, Gillespie stepped inside, glaring at the small but steadfast group of people who had come to his wife’s rescue.

  In return, surrounded by her best friends and with her head held high, Miri stared defiantly back at the man she had married six years earlier in the mistaken belief that she had been in love.

  Yet in the years they had been together she had quickly learned to despise him for the suffering he had caused her.

  Now, however, as the doors slid closed behind him, she felt absolutely nothing.

  Because that chapter of her life was finally over.

  ***

  The moment the lift doors closed Miri turned and flung herself at Sam, desperately relieved to see him. In return, he swept her up in his strong, protective embrace and hugged her tightly. The pair of them stayed locked together for a long time, tears streaming from their eyes as the time they had been apart just melted away.

  But the years and the distance no longer mattered because now they were together once more and neither wanted to let the other go ever again.

  Vas and Alina held hands as they looked on contentedly, smiling and happy to see Sam and Miri reunited once more.

  Finally, after
several minutes, Alina broke the silence. “So,” she said, “This all very good but I think it time for nice cup of English tea.”

  Miri reluctantly pulled away from Sam and turned to her with a wide, happy, grin. “Oui, merci,” she beamed at Vasily’s caring and sweet-natured wife, “that would be lovely.”

  ***

  Sam and Miri stayed with Vas and Alina for ten days. In that time they rebuilt their relationship again, Sam purposely taking it slowly to give Miri a chance to readjust to a life absent of fear.

  Yet for Miri herself, Sam was the antidote she needed. Just being with him, and with Vas too, had a cathartic effect and the person she had been for the last six years just seemed to evaporate away to leave only the strong, vibrant woman she had been before.

  Indeed, even on that first night at Vas and Alina’s apartment, she was given the spare room whilst Sam happily bedded down on the couch. However, a little after midnight, Miri crept out of her room and slipped under the blankets next to Sam.

  Nothing happened, they just lay in each other’s arms, but with him next to her once more she felt invincible.

  It had been a long time since they had seen each other and much had happened in the intervening years.

  When Sam first set eyes on Miri, in the corridor outside Vas and Alina’s apartment, she looked like she had been dragged through hell. Now, however, after a cleansing shower and a little pampering, she looked almost like her old self. Indeed, once she had gained a few pounds and her terrible bruises had fully healed, Sam was confident she would again be the same beautiful girl he had fallen in love with - at least outwardly.

  He was aware, however, that the trauma she had suffered at the hands of Allan Gillespie would take much longer to recover from but, in time, was sure that would eventually fade too. What is more, with him and Vas beside her again that process might have already begun.

  As for how Sam appeared to Miri, her first thought was that he had evidently been through much; the freezing cold of Siberia followed by the intense heat of Africa, giving his complexion a weatherbeaten ruggedness it had not possessed before.

  In spite of this, he was still extremely handsome even though his face was now permanently marked from battle; a scar here, a chipped tooth there, yet somehow it all added to his appeal. More importantly, however, underneath it all he was still the same kind man she had always known, albeit a little more jaded which was only to be expected considering what he had been through.

  Nonetheless, the following night and each night thereafter, they slept together in the spare room, often talking long into the early hours; Miri anxious to learn of all Sam had done and the experiences he had lived through in his quest to find justice for Claudette.

  In return, Sam told her everything, leaving no detail out, as he thought it important for him to be completely honest with her.

  He told her of Siberia and Brendan Williams and of Africa and Darius Purcell, he also told her of Natalie, the dark skinned girl he had met in Kinshasa and how she had saved his life.

  Miri made no judgement and bore no ill will, understanding what Sam had done and why he had done it, as previously re-enforced by Vasily.

  Yet Sam was truly sorry for Miri’s suffering and felt somewhat responsible. But she most adamantly assured him that nobody could take the blame for what Allan Gillespie had done to her except for Gillespie himself, who at some point in the future she knew she would have to divorce.

  For the present though, she did not wish to think about him at all.

  Nonetheless, as the days passed, Miri’s bruises slowly healed and by the eighth day of their stay at Vas and Alina’s they were almost indistinguishable.

  Until that point, however, she and Sam had still not made love. They had lain together, slept in each others arms, yet nothing more intimate than that.

  Indeed, he had always slept in pyjama trousers and she the nightdress she had been wearing when she left Surbiton.

  But on the night of their eighth day together, that changed.

  Miri retired to bed slightly earlier than Sam who stayed up late to watch a movie with Vas.

  When it had finished, the two of them said goodnight then Sam crept into the spare room trying not to disturb Miri.

  He undressed in the dark before pulling on his pyjama bottoms to cover his nakedness, although leaving his torso bare, as usual.

  He then slipped under the covers. However, the moment he was in bed, Miri snuggled into him, pressing the warmth of her body against his.

  What is more, as she draped an arm over his chest and wrapped one of her long, graceful legs over his thighs it was blatantly obvious she was completely naked.

  She nuzzled his cheek and caressed his torso, brushing her leg over his lower half to clearly declare her intent; the thin cotton of Sam’s pyjamas doing little to disguise his excitement.

  To encourage him further, she pushed her plump breasts against his bare skin and with a voice husky with lust, said, “So, I thought it was time we got properly reacquainted. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a very good idea,” he replied, turning his face towards her and kissing her deeply for the first time since being reunited.

  With their tongues still entwined, she swiftly pushed down his pyjamas and slithered deftly on top.

  “You’re sure this what you want?” Sam whispered, breaking off the kiss but keeping his mouth tantalisingly close to hers.

  “I’m sure,” she said, her voice heavy with desire. “You’re all that I’ve ever wanted. I love you.”

  “Good,” he whispered, “because I love you, too, and I don’t want us to ever be parted again.”

  Then they kissed once more and made love long into the night.

  ***

  Two days later Sam took Miri away for a month’s holiday on the Côte d’Azur so that she could recuperate further. He hired a private villa high up in the hills with a panoramic view of the bay from the spacious pool deck. There they spent a wonderful four weeks just swimming, sunbathing, dining on the terrace and making love at every opportunity.

  During their time at the luxury villa, all Miri’s cares were washed away; her marriage to Allan Gillespie erased from memory as she and Sam made the most of every second they had together.

  The holiday also gave Sam pause for thought as he enjoyed a life of love and happiness which not so long before he thought to be beyond his reach.

  It gave him cause to reflect again on all the death and violence he had seen in the last ten years, knowing there was yet more to come if he continued with his quest to find the men who still evaded him.

  But he had to ask himself what the alternative was. Should they just go free and not pay for their crimes?

  To him the idea of that was unacceptable, yet all the terrible things he had seen, that he had been a party to, were eating away at his very soul and being with Miri again had made him crave a normal life.

  However, as much as he knew that would make him happy, he just could not forget the sight of James Locke plunging his knife into Claudette’s abdomen or the blood-curdling scream she emitted as her body convulsed with pain.

  Indeed he would not forget it, not whilst Locke still breathed.

  He related these concerns to Miri, well aware of her initial reservations as to the course of vengeance he had set himself upon all those years ago, hoping that she might now understand his need to finish his task, no matter how content he was to be with her.

  Miri responded by saying she was still terrified of the danger Sam would undoubtedly be putting himself in, knowing he might be badly hurt or even killed.

  Yet, as a result of her abusive marriage, her opinion of retribution had changed over the years and she now realised exactly why he could not rest until it was done.

  After what Sam had told her about Claudette’s murder being no random act but in fact a pre
-planned hit orchestrated by powers as yet unknown, she also agreed that Miles DeVilliers was obviously the key to identifying the architect of the crime.

  Nonetheless, she promised that whatever needed to be done, they would work it out together because she intended to be beside him every step of the way and, no matter what, those responsible would be held accountable.

  If nothing else, life with Allan Gillespie had taught Miri one valuable lesson, which was that evil men should be made to pay for their crimes.

  Indeed, Claudette may have been Sam’s fiancé but she was also Miri’s best friend. As such, and having experienced something of what her friend must have suffered, she now wholeheartedly believed that her murder should be properly avenged.

  ***

  Sam and Miri returned from vacation to the news that Dr. Allan Gillespie was dead; his murdered body found just a few hours before their flight touched down at Gatwick and his killer already in custody.

  Apparently, in a bid to satiate his sadistic desires, Gillespie had nearly killed a prostitute by whipping her to within an inch of her life. As a result, he was then reportedly beaten to death by the girl’s vengeful pimp who, in turn, had then rather stupidly bragged about his crime to an undercover member of the Vice Squad.

  Consequently, Gillespie’s two week old corpse had been found rotting in a derelict warehouse in King’s Cross and his murderer promptly arrested.

  It was a fitting end for an evil man and Miri felt no emotion at the news of his passing - except for the joy that she would never have to worry about him ever again.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Martinique, 2003

  The telephone was pressed hard against Quentin Faraday’s ear as he anxiously paced the veranda of his beautiful Caribbean villa; the sparkling turquoise of the ocean in the background, calmly serene against a clear blue sky contrasting completely with the turmoil he was feeling.

  In fact, for a man so accustomed to getting his own way, things could scarcely be any worse.

  The telephone call was from someone delivering more bad news and now, instead of enjoying the stunning views of the ocean whilst slowly unwinding, as was the purpose of his trip, he was feeling the weight of yet more pressure and desperately trying to conjure a way to placate his angry investors.