Isobel

by Sheila Tibbs

  Medical examinations had to take place, to determine the actual cause of death, but told her not to worry. They had then left, saying they would inform the Peters’ about their son. The doctor had been too and given Sarah a sedative, to help her sleep, and she was now tucked up in bed with David at her side.

  Her head no longer seemed to hurt or ache, in fact her head no longer seemed to have any feeling or emotion at all.

  No sooner had she thought of something, she seemed to forget what that thought had been. Her eyes became heavy, and she drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

  •

  Mr. and Mrs. Peters were waiting for Matthew to return home before they ate their evening meal.

  “If he doesn’t get home soon, then dinner will be spoilt,” Mrs. Peters said to her husband.

  “I’ve never known him to work so late. It’s dark now, what could he possibly be doing in the dark?” She went over to the curtains and peered outside, as if expecting him to be coming down the driveway. Sighing heavily, she let the curtain fall back over the window and headed back towards the kitchen.

  A car pulled into the driveway, its headlights illuminated against the pulled curtains. Mr. Peters stood from his chair by the fire, and looked at his wife.

  “Something’s happened,” he said and walked towards the front door. There, stood two police officers. The grave expressions they carried confirmed Mr. Peters’ worst fears. Nodding, he invited them in.

  At first Mrs. Peters didn’t believe what they were saying.

  “No, you’ve got it wrong. Matthew will be here any minute now, for his dinner. He’s a good boy you see, never late for his dinner.”

  Mr. Peters took hold of her hand. Looking at her, he shook his head. The police officers looked at the ground, their hearts going out to this lady.

  “No!” she cried. “Not my Matthew, not my boy.” She collapsed into her husband’s arms.

  “I’m sorry,” the police officer said. Mr. Peters looked up into his young face; he saw there the sincerity of his words and smiled weakly.

  “Please forgive us, but we would like to be left alone now,” Mr. Peters said.

  “Yes, of course. Is there anything we can get you before we leave? You will need to formally identify the body, but tomorrow will be fine.”

  “No, thank you, you’ve been very kind. Yes, tomorrow, we’ll come tomorrow,” Mr. Peters said, and the officers left.

  Cradling his wife in his arms until her tears turned to sobs, Mr. Peters, his own grief now evident on his stony features, quietly and calmly said to his wife, “The time has come for us to tell Sarah and David.”

  “No,” she sniffed. “We should have left when you first said. Just packed our things and left, there and then. If we had, Matthew would still be with us.”

  “No my love, you’re wrong. Now I know that no matter where we went, how often we ran, it would have made no difference. We both knew this day would come, we have always known.” The strength had left his voice, and he now sounded like an old man.

  “But ... I’m frightened! What may happen to us now if we go to Sarah and David,” she said, pleading not to go.

  “It no longer matters what will become of us, dear, don’t you see? Matthew is gone. No amount of pain can replace the pain we feel at his loss. The worst has happened.” He planted a loving kiss in her hair, and, standing up, he helped her to her feet.

  Together they left their cottage, the place where Matthew had been born and raised. It held so many happy memories, but now, now the place they had called home, was like an empty shell, no longer the happy, homely place it had been, never again to hold the laughter of yesterday, just the pain of tomorrow. Slowly they walked to the manor house at the top of the drive.

  •

  Mr. Peters, now feeling decidedly old and frail, slowly lifted his hand to the large brass knocker that had pride of place in the centre of the large, double doors, and knocked.

  In his mind's eye, he could picture his beloved son, floating face down in the lake, alone. Was he scared? The pain in his heart doubled at the thought, and his chest tightened. David answered the door. He looked drained and pale at the day’s events, and, on seeing the Peters’ standing there, his heart fell deeper into his stomach. Attempting to put on a brave face, and failing miserably, David led them into the kitchen.

  “Please, David, tell us what happened here tonight?” Mrs. Peters said, her eyes pleading with him to prove their thoughts wrong. Pushing his hand through his hair, David sighed, “I wish I knew, I really do,” he said. “One minute we thought Matthew was in the tool shed, then I took Isobel up to bed, to close her windows and that. Sarah went out to the shed to see what was holding Matthew up, as it was getting dark, and she knew you would be worried ... then she found him in the lake.”

  He found it difficult to meet their eyes. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain they must've been feeling, and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He was feeling responsible in some way, although he wasn’t sure how.

  “May we speak with Sarah?” Mr. Peters asked.

  “I’m afraid not. The doctor has given her a sedative. She’s fast asleep.”

  “Then we will come back in the morning, if that’s alright with you, David?”

  Mr. Peters had such determination in his voice that David looked up and caught his gaze, then he nodded.

  “Then we will disturb you no more,” Mr. Peters said, and holding his wife’s arm, he turned to lead her back towards the front door.

  “I can’t express how sorry I am for your loss. Matthew was a lovely young man. I’m so sorry,” David said sincerely.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Peters said as she smiled a weak smile.

  At the front door, Mr. Peters turned to David and saw, there, at the top of the stairs, Isobel looking down at them. Mr. Peters stared up at her - she smiled and turned away. Saying nothing more, the Peters left.

  •

  At the end of the long drive, Mr. Peters glanced back at the manor. He could just see Isobel standing at the window, watching them go. He was sure she was smiling.

  A cold chill ran down his spine. 'That child is pure evil,' he thought.

  As they reached the cottage door, a sharp pain hit his chest, like a blow from a sledgehammer. His arm began to tingle, and his breath came in short, sharp gasps. He clutched his chest and leant against the door jam. He fell to the ground, then darkness began to fall on his mind, but he could hear Isobel’s laughter, and the gentle sound of a nursery rhyme playing in the cool night breeze.

  Girls and Boys come out to play…

  •

  When Mr. and Mrs. Peters were out of sight, David turned off the lights and wearily climbed the stairs. He looked in on Isobel, and found her music box playing. He closed the lid, then left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

  Isobel laughed. The darkness in the room pierced by the yellow glow of her eyes.

  Sarah was sleeping soundly. David stood watching her for a while, soaking in her beauty and innocence. How he loved her, how he wanted her. He decided to sleep in one of the spare rooms so as not to disturb her, so he kissed her gently and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  The spare room felt stuffy. Sarah had not aired the room since Easter, when friends had come to stay, although she had regularly dusted the cabinets to keep them clean. The room overlooked the rear garden, with big picture windows that let in the daylight or moonlight, like tonight.

  The drapes were heavy cotton, in beautiful pastel colours, and the light yellow walls gave the room a summery feeling, no matter the weather or time of year. It was warm and cosy, simply furnished with a large king size bed. The bedspread matched the curtains and the small sofa, soft pastel colours mimicking the colourful flowerbeds in summer.

  A large dressing table with a large ornate mirror, left by Sarah’s grandparents, one of the few items of furniture that was still in use, and a large Georgian wardrobe, stood proudly against the far wall.

&nbs
p; A large green rug sat smugly in the centre of the wooden floor, finishing off the room perfectly. David smiled to himself. Sarah knew her colours all right, every room she had designed had been perfect, capturing the mood of the old house and the room, making them belong together, neither out dating the other.

  He undressed and climbed beneath the large duvet. The softness of the cover caressing his naked body, again making him think of loving Sarah. He would make it up to her, he thought. 'My behaviour lately has been awful, she doesn’t deserve that, she is, after all, my world.'

  Closing his eyes, he thought of Sarah’s naked body. Her slim, petite figure, her small round breasts and strong thighs. He could smell her, taste her and see her. He slept.

  •

  He was woken some time later by the feeling of someone else being in the room.

  Trying to blink himself awake and get his eyes to focus in the darkness, he hoped it was Sarah. God, how he wanted her. He could feel the familiar stirring in his loins and his manhood stiffened. He could make out Sarah’s silhouette, her elf like body moving towards him and then he felt her climb in beside him.

  He could feel the heat of her body next to him and knew she was naked. He could smell her womanly smell and it drove his senses wild. Together they explored each other, the familiar curves and crevasses of their bodies. They tasted each other and he cupped her small breasts in his hands as she climbed on top of him.

  Positioning herself over his erect penis, she slowly, teasingly, lowered herself onto him. Again they became one. Together they moved in rhythm.

  David could feel his climax was near and forced himself in deeper. Sarah arched her back as her own climax peaked and together they shuddered. They lay in each other’s arms, savouring the moment together. David was sure he could hear Isobel’s music box playing, but, not wanting to break the magic between them, he ignored it. 'Let it play,' he thought to himself.

  Sleep finally came, shortly after.

  When David awoke, he was disappointed to find himself alone. How he had wanted to repeat last night’s performance again.

  He lay there, reliving the ecstasy, smiling to himself as he remembered every last detail. The familiar stirring began in his loins and he climbed out of bed. It was still only dawn and Isobel would still be asleep.

  He quietly walked from the room and down the landing to the room he shared with Sarah. He was shocked to find the room was empty. The stirring he had felt, now forgotten. 'Where is she,' he thought? He checked the bathroom they shared, nothing. He grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door to cover his nakedness, and went down stairs. The lounge was empty, so was the kitchen. He was just about to see if Sarah was in her den, when he caught a glimpse of her by the old tool shed. She was heading towards the lake.

  He left quietly by the back door and made his way down the garden. The early morning air was fresh and the grass was damp beneath his bare feet. He shuddered.

  He found Sarah sitting on the bank of the lake, staring out across the water.

  “Honey, you okay?” he asked.

  Sarah turned to face him, silent tears streaming from her eyes. “Tell me it was all a dream,” she said, her eyes pleading with him, searching his face for tell tale signs.

  He took her in his arms. “Oh, baby, I wish it was, I wish it was with all my heart.”

  Her silent tears turned to sobs. “I woke up and thought ... hoped it had all been a dream. Poor Matthew.”

  “Do you remember much about last night?” David asked.

  “No. Nothing after the doctor came. I slept heavily I think.

  My head hurts this morning. Where did you sleep, David? When I woke, your side of the bed hadn’t been slept in?”

  “I stayed in the spare room, so as not to disturb you,” he said. 'It must have been a dream,' he thought. Disappointment coursed through his veins. He had just had the best sex ever with Sarah, and it had all been a dream.

  •

  Mr. Peters had been taken to Southend Hospital, where he was still unconscious. He was covered in tubes and wires, machines beeping continuously. Mrs. Peters sat at his side.

  'How could this happen,' she thought to herself. 'First my Matthew, now this. Please, please live, pull through. Don’t leave me alone.'

  She was praying and begging her husband to survive, when the doctor came into the room. He smiled softly, then said, “Mrs. Peters, we have the results of your husband's tests. As you are aware, he had a heart attack last night, but results have shown he has also suffered a stroke.”

  “Will he be alright, Doctor?” she asked, trying to steady the tremble in her voice,

  “He is a very sick man, Mrs. Peters. I shall not lie to you, but we are doing all we can. His body has suffered tremendously, I'm afraid. The heart attack alone was serious, but coupled with the major stroke…” he trailed off.

  Smiling a weak smile, he patted her shoulder, “We’re doing all we can.” Then he turned and left the room.

  •

  The police had visited Sarah again that afternoon and taken her statement. Exhausted, she was pleased when night fell and, bidding goodnight to David and Isobel, she climbed the stairs to bed.

  David sat quietly in the lounge, not really watching the nature programme that was showing on the television, and Isobel sat watching him, smiling.

  Eventually, David glanced over at Isobel and smiled.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing, David,” she answered, then said, “You don’t look very happy, are you and Sarah arguing again? Only I noticed you slept in the spare room last night.”

  “No, we’re not arguing,” he teased, joined her on the settee and then tickled her.

  “Sarah needed her sleep, that’s why I slept in the spare room.”

  “Sarah’s tired again tonight. Does that mean you’ll sleep in the spare room again?”

  “Yes, maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it.” His mind wandered back to the previous night as Isobel smiled a sinister smile.

  “Good,” she said. David didn’t hear her.

  David took Isobel up to bed, kissed her goodnight and then closed the door. She heard his footsteps go across the landing to the bedroom he shared with Sarah.

  After a few minutes, she heard him leave the room and walk down the landing to the spare room, the door closed behind him. Isobel sat at her dressing table and smiled. Her reflection smiled back.

  “Make tonight extra special for David, then we might have succeeded in coming between them,” Isobel said.

  “After tonight, he’ll never want to sleep with Sarah again, I promise you,” her reflection answered.

  Together they laughed and her music box played on.

  Chapter thirteen.

  David woke with a hunger like he had never known. Not a hunger for food, but for the woman he now knew wasn’t Sarah. The one that visited him during the night.

  Feeding him on bodily pleasures, taking his soul to higher plains. Plains so high, even God didn’t know they existed.

  This morning, he was hungry ... hungry for the day to end so that, when night fell, he would experience again the intense pleasures of the flesh.

  'Sarah is becoming a thorn in my side,' he thought as he showered. 'She’s always whinging and whining about this or that.

  Isobel can do no right either.'

  In fact, he had noticed that Sarah actually avoided Isobel whenever she could. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled.

  “God, you’re good-looking, David. I always thought you were, but now, wow, you are drop dead gorgeous.” He laughed at himself. “Such pride you have.”

  He descended the stairs to the kitchen, still smiling. He felt fitter and leaner than he had in a long time. He had even had to tighten his belt on his trousers to keep them in place.

  'Exercise definitely does you good,' he thought, 'especially my form of exercise.'

  Sitting at the breakfast table, he wasn’t paying much attention to Sarah as she busi
ed herself with the breakfast duties.

  He looked over to Isobel and smiled.

  “Do you know, darling, I feel real lucky today. I think I’m going to pull off this big investment deal we’re interested in at the bank. It will be worth millions if I succeed, giving me the largest bonus ever in the last sixty years.”

  Isobel smiled. “Oh, you’re going to pull it off alright, David, trust me, I can feel it.”

  Together they laughed. Sarah watched this exchange and shuddered. What was happening to her happy home? What force had breached the security she had had, which she no longer possessed?

  David stood and kissed Isobel on the cheek then called goodbye to Sarah as he reached the front door, almost as an afterthought. Sarah fought back the tears that were welling inside and blinked them away. Isobel watched her pain and smiled.

  •

  At the school gate, Sarah saw her old friend, Carol, whom she hadn’t seen for weeks. Smiling she walked over to where Carol was standing, with some of the other mothers.

  “Hi, Carol, how are you? I haven’t seen you for ages.” Carol turned her head and the smile froze on her face. Looking toward the ground she mumbled. “Oh, hi, Sarah. Yes, I’m fine thanks ... and you? Sorry I haven’t been in touch but we’ve been busy, you know, what with one thing and another. Anyway, must dash, perhaps we can catch up soon. I’ll call you.” With that, she looked at the other parents around her, then slowly walked away.

  Sarah stood dumbstruck, what had she done to offend Carol and the others? A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the stares, and she was sure she could still hear whisperings. After all, they had moved but twenty feet away from her, their heads bowed together, like they shared some big secret that she wasn’t to be part of.

  Feeling hurt, Sarah turned away. Carol glanced up at her, the pain she had just caused her friend evident on her face. She wanted to go after her, but knew she couldn’t. For the sake of everyone in the village, she had to keep her distance. Sarah, her head hung low, stood by the school gate. Isobel went over to her and held her hand. Sarah glanced at the little girl staring up at her and her heart seemed to warm, so she smiled.