Shattered Lives

by Marian Phair

  As the days went by, she felt more and more isolated. Eventually, the day came when she no longer left the house. She could not bear the horrified looks on people’s faces, when they saw her. They would gawk at her, before turning their heads away, afraid to look her in the eye, afraid in their superstitious little minds, that if they did so, some evil might befall them.

  Molly did the best she could, learning from the books her aunt fetched her from the library. She helped her aunt around the house, doing whatever chores needed doing, as her way of paying for her keep.

  The day came when her aunt, suffering from a bout of pneumonia, died in her sleep. Once again, Molly, found herself alone, with no companion and no one who cared.

  Molly had turned her back on the outside world, entering the convent, and eventually, taking her final vows. She became the only bride she would ever be, a Bride of Christ.

  It was as if fate had ordained it, Molly had ended up in the Magdalene.

  The home for fallen women.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dr Samuel Morrison sat drinking coffee with the two security guards on set, while the filming of Melissa’s final scene was taking place.

  He had planned a different alibi for himself, but he could not resist being on set when Melissa got what was coming to her. Anyway, he told himself, I need to be on hand to certify the death, and to make sure the body was properly disposed of. He would arrange for Melissa to be cremated, before Ralph Newman could return from abroad and disrupt his carefully laid plans. He knew Jimmy would play his part, and keep his mouth shut. Everything so far was going according to plan, so all he had to do was sit back and wait for the ‘tragedy’ to take place

  “How about a few hands of poker?” He asked them, “you have an hour’s break right, maybe I can win back some of the money I lost to you guys last time we played eh!” Smiling, he reached for the deck of cards on the table. It might be wise to keep them both entertained until the final scene was shot, just in case. They played a few hands of poker. During his deal Dr Sam glanced surreptitiously at his wristwatch, they were taking their time shooting the scene. He could feel his palms getting sweaty and sticking to the cards as he dealt. He tried to remain calm knowing he must not let his anxiety show.

  There was only one small window in the port-a-cabin and Dr Sam sat with his back to it. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It opened, and a young girl popped her head around it, on seeing the doctor, she looked relieved.

  “There has been an accident,” she said, “its Ms Proctor, Dr Sam.”

  Dr Samuel Morrison got an instant erection at her words. This was it!, what he had been waiting for. He hoped his erection did not show as he left the table and reached for his bag on the desk.

  “Sorry guys, some other time, I’m afraid duty calls.” Turning to the girl he told her to lead the way. He had practiced this moment, over and over in his head, so he would not give himself away by going straight to the body.

  He followed the girl, stepping over cables and around props as they went.

  “What happened to her, where is she?” he asked her. They were going away from the set, towards the parked caravans.

  “She is legless,” the girl said, “she was as high as a Georgia pine, when she arrived on set this morning, and she got steadily drunker as the day has gone on. She was told she was to be replaced by a dummy, during the final scene.” The girl spoke with a soft Southern drawl; she looked no older than seventeen. “Gregory Hines ordered her to be taken to her trailer as she could not stand on her own two feet and had to be carried. They left her to sleep it off and used Stuart for her one shot in the car. She was even too drunk for that.”

  They had arrived at Melissa’s trailer. Before they entered the girl filled him in saying, “around ten minutes ago we heard her swearing at the top of her lungs, she was throwing things around and one of the crew went to investigate. She had trashed the trailer, she threw a jar of face cream at him, before falling and hitting her head on the edge of the table and cutting her hand on the broken glass. It is bleeding pretty badly.”

  They entered the trailer where Melissa was slumped in a chair out cold. A young man knelt before her trying to stem the flow of blood from the palm of her hand, with a towel.

  “Thank God you’re here, she has just passed out and I can’t control the bleeding,” he told Dr Sam.

  Dr Samuel Morrison felt all sorts of emotions going through him.

  He hid them well as he bent over the unconscious form, his erection having disappeared almost as fast as it had arisen. He felt his anger rising when he looked at Melissa’s drunken form. The bitch should be dead but instead she was passed out in a drunken stupor.

  “Okay, I will take a look at her,” he told the young man, “You did the right thing sending for me. The cut is very deep, and it appears to be a clean, but it will require stitches,” he told them, as he examined Melissa’s damaged hand.

  “I am afraid I will have to take her to my clinic as I am unable to treat her here,” he lied. He had to make it look more serious than it really was, in order to get her away from here while he made other plans for her disposal. He would have his revenge and would not be cheated out of it.

  Opening up his medical bag, he swiftly made a pad from one of the triangular slings, placing it over the wound and bending her fingers over it to form a fist. He then bound another sling around her hand to hold the pad in place. They watched in silence as he worked.

  “Wait here with her,” said Dr Sam, “I will fetch my car and you can put her on the back seat. I will take her to my clinic and when I have treated her hand, I will take her back to Rojo Tejado myself.”

  Within minutes he was on his way, the unconscious Melissa stretched out on the back seat and as he drove a plan was forming in his twisted mind.

  “It’s that bloody spic’s fault” he muttered to himself, “flashing his big dick around, making her want him.” It was as much that bastards fault as Melissa’s. Maybe things had worked out for the best after all, for now he might find a way of making him pay too.

  For the rest of the journey, Dr Sam planned how he could get Enrico Garcia, blamed for Melissa’s murder, without the slightest hint of suspicion falling on himself.

  With this in mind he headed away from the clinic and towards his own private residence. He knew it would be safe to take Melissa there, while he put his plans into action. His wife was away on a Bridge Tournament, and staying with friends, she would not return for at least another week. He would have ample time to put his plan into action and cover his tracks.

  The plans he had so carefully worked out for Amie’s baby, had to be put on hold for the time being. Until he could find out her whereabouts, there was nothing he could do. He would deal with one problem at a time from now on, starting with Melissa.

  He was on the outskirts of Tarragona, when he heard Melissa stirring on the back seat of the car. She started moaning and through the drivers mirror he saw her trying to raise herself up. As yet she had not opened her eyes but for his plan to work, he would have to sedate her, and keep her sedated until the job was done.

  Taking a quick look round, and seeing no one in the vicinity, he pulled over onto the hard shoulder. Reaching into his medical bag, he soon found what he was looking for. He quickly broke open an ampoule of Diazepam, and drew it up into a disposable syringe. He waited for a few moments after giving her the injection, for the drug to take effect.

  He heard the sound of a vehicle approaching and not wishing to arouse suspicion, he went to the rear of the Jaguar, and with his back to the road, pretended to be in the act of urinating. He waited until it was out of sight before he felt it was safe to continue his journey.

  He had no difficulty getting Melissa into the house unobserved, using the side entrance which faced the open countryside. Melissa was now safely ensconced in the guest bedroom at the rear of the house, sedated, bound and gagged.

  Downstairs, he removed the stopper from the whiskey dec
anter, and poured a liberal dose into one of the cut glass tumblers beside it, almost choking as he felt the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat. Going over to the telephone, he dialed the number of his clinic.

  “Good afternoon, Dr Samuel Morrison’s clinic, how may I help you?” Ellen Rodriguez voice came over the phone, speaking first in Spanish, and then repeating the question again in English.

  He took another sip of his whisky before replying, unable to recall of the top of his head, just how many appointments he had over the next few days.

  “Ellen, its Dr Sam, I want you to re-schedule my appointments for the rest of the week as I need to keep the next few days free. Then come over to my house, there is something very important I want you to do for me.”

  One hour later, Ellen Rodriguez drove her car up the gravel driveway, and parked at the front of his house. She checked her hair in the driver’s mirror, and applied fresh lipstick. Reaching into the glove compartment for her deodorant, she held the can under her top, and sprayed her armpits with its Jasmine perfume, before alighting.

  Dr Samuel Morrison watched her approach the house, through the half-closed blinds on the window, admiring the feline grace of her walk. Funny, he had never really noticed her before. Ellen always wore her hair scraped back off her forehead, in a tight bun at the back, mostly hidden under her nurse’s cap. She was almost always seated behind her desk, neat and tidy in her nurse’s uniform, when he arrived at the clinic.

  Now, her jet black hair hung loose, around her shoulders, long and straight.

  The late afternoon sun catching it in its rays, gave it a blue sheen, reminding him of a raven’s feathers. Ellen had huge breasts, which wobbled like jelly, under the tight fitting, low cut blouse she was wearing, threatening to spill out over the top at any moment. Her waist was very narrow, which only served to accentuate them even more. He could not take his eyes from her chest, watching in fascination, as she mounted the three short steps to his front door, on shapely legs.

  He realised he was holding his breath, and let it out slowly, as he made his way to the front door to let her in. She looked one really ‘hot mamma’ and she had been under his nose for the past two years.

  “Come in, come in,” he repeated himself, stepping aside and holding the door open for her, grinning at her. He wished now, he had taken a shower and changed his clothes, before she arrived.

  He tried hard not to look down her top, as she brushed past him in the narrow doorway. He found his heart beating faster; he had not felt like this in a long time. Closing the door behind her, he led the way to his study at the rear of the house. He cordially invited her to be seated, and offered her a drink, wondering as he did so, how he could entice her into his bedroom.

  The thought of taking Ellen, with Melissa just feet away in the next room, gave him such a hard-on, he could barely stand the pain. He had to do something about it right away; it was all he could think about.

  Handing her a glass of wine, he excused himself, and went upstairs to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He unzipped his trousers, taking his swollen manhood in his hand and easing it out of the opening. Leaning with his back against the tiled wall, he watched himself in the mirror, through half closed eyes, as he swiftly masturbated, stifling his moans as he climaxed.

  Ellen sat sipping her wine, wondering just what was so important that Dr Sam needed to re-schedule his appointments. This was her chance to do something for him, and to let him know her true feelings.

  She had never bothered with men since coming to work for him. From the very first day she had set eyes on him, she had prayed to the Virgin Mary that he would notice her and fall in love with her, as deeply as she loved him. The fact that he was already married, meant nothing to her, she fantasized about him all the time. At night, alone in her bed, she imagined the feel of his hands on her body and how it would feel to have his penis inside her, but so far her prayers had not been answered.

  She had noticed the way his eyes kept straying to her chest, then away again and saw the flush of arousal spread over his face when she pulled at her blouse, causing her nipples to stand out hard against the taut fabric.

  She knew she had excited him, and the knowledge pleased her. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary, fully believing she had answered her prayers.

  He came back down the stairs, having changed into grey flannels and a short -sleeved shirt. Smelling of expensive aftershave, he apologised for leaving her alone while he freshened up. Pouring himself a drink, he joined her on the couch. Now relieved of his erection he was back in control once again, and able to concentrate on the reason he had asked her to come here.

  It was such a delicate matter; he could not just blurt it out. He would have to approach her with caution, sounding her out, to see just how far she would go in order to help him. He set his glass on the coffee table and gently removed her glass from her hand, placing it down beside his own. Then taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes, trying to judge her reaction to his words.

  “I need your help, on a very delicate and private matter, a matter of the utmost secrecy,” he told her, encouraged to continue, when she did not try to pull away from him, “a matter in which only you my dear can help me, I would not trust any other.”

  Saying this, he raised her hands to his lips and turning them over, he kissed the palms. Ellen sucked in her breath, suddenly unsure of herself, not knowing what game he was playing, or how to react.

  “Before I ask this favour of you, I need to know how you feel about me?” he said.

  “What do you mean by, how do I feel about you?” she asked him.

  “Well,” he replied, “do you regard me only as your employer, or more as a friend?”

  He sat quietly, waiting for her answer, giving her time to think. She looked confused. “Don’t worry,” he told her, “I won’t fire you, if you say you hate the sight of me and refuse to help me, I hold you in too high a regard for that to happen.” He laughed at her confusion.

  “I love you,” she said quietly, looking at him with big ‘cow’ eyes.

  “What! What did you just say?” It was his turn to be shocked and confused.

  “I said, I love you,” Ellen told him, lowering her eyes, not daring to look at him. She let out an audible sigh; at last she had found the courage to tell him how she really felt about him. Doctor Sam sat for a moment trying to take in what she had said. All this time, he thought, and I never suspected a thing.

  “I had no idea you felt like that about me.” He was slightly uncomfortable with this knowledge, but it would help his cause tremendously. Having her help him, knowing how she felt about him, he knew she would never betray him and those wonderful breasts of hers had filled him with such sexual fantasies, that he had to dash off to the bathroom for some quick hand relief. Yes, this was the woman to take Melissa’s place in his bed.

  “You said you wanted my help, I will do anything and I mean anything, if it will make you happy.” Ellen told him. “All you have to do is ask me, that is why I came here, to help you.”

  Dr Sam took a deep breath and released it slowly saying, “As I said before, it is a very delicate matter. I need you to seduce one, Enrico Garcia, and the seduction has to take place as soon as possible. The quicker you can do this the better as time is of the essence.” Seeing the shocked expression on her face, he thought maybe he had exposed his hand too soon. “Let me tell you part of the reason why I need this to take place.”

  Ellen pulled her hands out of his. He had been caressing her fingers absentmindedly as he spoke of his plan. She reached out to him, placing her fingers over his lips to prevent him continuing, feeling the sharp hairs of his beard under their pads.

  “I don’t need to know the reason,” she told him. “I love you dearly, but if you cared for me, even the slightest, you would surely not ask me to go off and have sex with another man.” Ellen reached for her wine glass, not looking at him and drank it down in one go. “May I have anot
her?” she asked handing him her empty glass to refill.

  He needed to get this over with quickly and get her out of here as Melissa would need sedating again soon. He should have tied the bitch to the bed, because, although bound and gagged, he did not trust her. He could not be sure how deeply unconscious she was, after all, she was an actress and a bloody good one at that. He was also aware that the drugs he was using to keep her sedated were potentially dangerous to life, and often used in suicide attempts. He did not want her overdosed; he had other plans for her.

  He refilled Ellen’s glass and his own, bringing the bottle over to the table with him.

  “I can see I have shocked you, and for that I am sorry,” he said, “please forget I asked that of you. It was selfish of me to think you would do a thing like that, to help me. Forgive me,” he said, moving closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “let’s not spoil our evening together, we won’t mention this again, have some more wine, or would you prefer something stronger?.”

  “No, wine is fine thank you, may I ask you something?” She said, looking thoughtfully into her glass, as if seeking the answer to her question in the dregs of the red wine.

  “By all means, go ahead,” he replied, “if I can answer you I will.”

  “I know the relationship with your wife is not on the best of terms,” she told him, looking up at him and noting the expression of surprise on his face,

  “People talk, they notice things and they talk. Maybe they don’t get the facts right all the time, but gossiping all the same.”

  He remained silent, watching her, keeping his face impassive, waiting for her to continue.

  “What I really want to know is, do you think you could love me?” She cleared her throat, this was proving to be harder than she imagined.

  “I would not ask you to leave your wife or anything like that. I would be content to be your mistress. I would continue to work beside you in the daytime, and share my bed with you whenever you wished. I would make no demands on you whatever.” She waited with baited breath for his answer.