by Keeley Smith
Lester’s soul was thrust upon him as Death clicked his fingers. Lester stumbled into his arms. Nothing about Lester screamed ghost, he no longer floated and Stephen’s hands didn’t go through the shimmery coat. It felt to him like he was touching a person.
“I’m sorry, lad,” Lester whispered.
This apology meant he’d chosen correctly. “It’s okay...”
A second later, his father appeared in front of them. Stephen held his breath as his father stumbled onto the floor and looked around slightly dazed. Blood shot topaz eyes glared at him, his mouth set in a disgusted leer, it was the look that always greeted Stephen.
His father hadn’t registered where he was, he just looked at him and Stephen saw the rage cross his face. Rage that came when his brain was drowning due to the amount of drink he’d consumed.
“Where have you brought me, boy?!” he stormed as he tried to lurch towards him. Was his father so drunk he hadn’t realised he’d popped up in a new, cold place?
Phillip and Deyna stood in front of him ready to take the brunt of the fist that was aimed at him.
“No, you will not harm him anymore, Mr Evans!” Phillip shouted.
“Oh and I suppose a big strong lad like yourself will stop me?” His father snapped spraying spit in Phillip’s face.
“No, I will.”
He watched as his father whirled around unsteadily on his feet to face Death. His eyes bulged out of his head as any alcohol induced colour drained from his face. Stephen had to admit that it was rather a lot to take in when you first saw that skull. He stumbled back in an attempt to get away from the frightening hooded figure.
“Now that we have the apparent perpetrator here, Stephen must give his evidence,” Death spoke and gestured for Stephen to take centre stage.
There was something about Death that seemed to thrive on attention and people’s fear and emotions. It gave him the creeps.
Stephen remained stood next to Deyna and Phillip, he wouldn’t aid his father. There stood a man who had once loved him, he was sure of it, the man who had once been a father to him, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to help him. His father shook his head, his eyes and alcohol filled brain was not quite processing everything. “What is going on here?” he spat.
“You are being charged with the murder of Lee Turner and Marie Andrews,” Stephen answered.
Death stood back with his bones crossed over his empty chest enjoying the show. His father started waving his arms spluttering nonsense.
“I didn’t murder anyone. You must have drunk too much! Come here, I will sort you out. ”
“I don’t drink, Dad. You do! Did you even know that I’ve been stuck down here since Friday?” Stephen asked, tears already blurring his vision.
His father at the best of times didn’t know he existed and that stung.
“You haven’t been anywhere,” his father slurred.
“To be fair, your father is quite correct, you haven’t been missing. Time hasn’t passed up there since you came here.”
The three of them looked at Death in shock, so his idea of a parent finding them wouldn’t have worked. He could feel the air vibrate with further questions.
“Not now,” he said turning to his friends. “We don’t have the time.”
He knew they wouldn’t get their answers anyway.
Death nodded and continued to watch the show. So far, Lester hadn’t spoken.
“Dad, you murdered Lester’s wife, why?”
Even though his father had murdered Lee Turner, Stephen found it difficult to sympathise with the womaniser, but he couldn’t forgive the murder of Marie. Yes, she succumbed to Turner’s charm but every woman had, she hadn’t deserved the violent death for her weak moment.
“How the hell do you know about Lester? He died years ago!”
“We’ve got to know him quite well. Lester...” Stephen stepped aside and allowed his father to see Lester for the first time.
“You died...you...”
He watched his father try to come to terms with everything. Lester walked towards his father, Stephen could see him struggle to form words, grief was etched into every part of his face.
“Why did you murder my girl, Tom?” Lester’s voice broke towards the end.
His father stared at Lester, his mouth gaping like a fish above water. He didn’t have the answer or he couldn’t answer. His father slumped to the floor and lost the contents of his stomach.
“How did you figure it out?” Lester whispered, turning his eyes to him rather than looking at the shell of a man who’d once been his father.
“You told me you couldn’t remember if my family lived in the hamlet and there were two things wrong with that statement. One, my parents lived here all their lives and two, I never told you my last name, but you already knew it.”
“Clever,” Lester laughed sadly. “You are very clever.”
“I’ve been called many things in my life but never clever,” Stephen mumbled. “Anyway, after you told us what happened and your whereabouts that morning I believed you didn’t murder her. I was trying to think of the people who may have stopped you during your fight. You told us the shop owners stopped you and they were the ones who gave witness statements. My father owned a small shop-”
“Your father owned a shop?” Phillip asked shocked.
He nodded. “Yeah, he had a little alcohol business,” he explained laughing. “Ironic, huh?”
“You father didn’t really involve himself with the shop owners but I spoke to him on occasion about the weather and such things...”
“Well, you see, trying to think of people who may have done it was hard. I then remembered an argument that had happened at home one night.”
He looked at his father, tears brimming. “You couldn’t stand the thought of my mother looking at someone else even though she only had eyes for you.”
His father stopped retching and glared at him. The words registered through his drunken haze.
“I was young but I remember your jealous rages. It was that night you mentioned Turner. You said something about work and him coming in. I was young and I didn’t know this Turner. When Lester spoke of Turner I assumed he was the man you were threatened by, you were jealous of him!”
“Your mother couldn’t resist that man’s charms,” his father snapped and stood up, his body swaying. Disgust etched in every line on his face. “The women were throwing themselves at him. It was disgusting! One day I caught your mother talking to him, she swore herself to me and her eyelashes were fluttering, her hand was placed on his arm in a more than friendly way.”
His father’s fists were flying close to his face. Before Stephen could defend himself, Lester stepped in front of him. His father’s hands went through Lester making him yelp and jump back.
“You will not touch the boy!”
“You,” Tom said pointing at Lester. “You gave me my opportunity. You fought in public, everyone had seen it, or heard about it. That night I made sure that man would never touch my beloved wife ever!”
“How did you do it?” Lester asked, his voice shaking.
His father, his flesh and blood, had crushed Lester. He’d taken everything from him. Lester would finally know what had happened that night. They all would. Deyna stepped close to Lester and placed her hand in his. It floated as Lester looked at her, his eyes shimmering like his body. His tears were tiny drops, glittering down his cheeks.
“I made a move that night. I knew he would be with your wife, I’d seen them walk off together and I caught them, indecently exposed.” His father shot Lester a drunken smile. “I dragged him from your wife and pummelled him with everything I had until he slumped to the floor. Now Marie, she wouldn’t keep quiet. She screamed which was alerting the others to what was happening. I couldn’t have that, could I? So I dealt with her.”
His father was so flippant about something so shocking, it sickened him that they were related.
“You murdered my Marie!”
Lester launched himself at his father.
Stephen stood back with his friends and watched as his father was enveloped by Lester.
His father struggled with Lester’s elastic form. Lester had ballooned very quickly. It looked like his father’s face was held captive inside a slab of jelly. Stephen felt nothing for his father’s safety, but his body jerked when he realised his father was struggling to breathe.
“Lester, let him go!” he shouted as he pushed his hands through Lester and pulled at his father.
“He killed my Marie!”
“I know, but you will kill him. Do you want to spend eternity here?”
Stephen continued to pull at his father and felt the moment Lester’s hold relaxed. He pulled and felt his shoulder crack with the effort, he hissed as his shoulder sung. His father dropped onto the floor spluttering for air.
“How could you?” he whispered looking at his father.
His father sucked in a breath. “She was mine.”
“She wasn’t property! She wasn’t some trophy you could strut around with. She was my mother!” Tears fell over his cheeks.
“Don’t you cry! I swear it is days like this that I know you are not my son!”
A collective gasp sounded around him. He felt the air in his lungs stall.
“What did you say?” he whispered.
j
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
