- Fairfield Writers Group-Queensland
- Fairfield, Queensland, Australia
- Fairfield Writers Group is a mix of beginner and experienced writers who meet the second and fourth Saturdays of the month at the Brisbane City Council Library in Fairfield Gardens Shopping Centre, Fairfield road, Fairfield, Queensland. Our passion is writing and we work hard at our craft. Our aim is to encourage, support and help each other to reach new heights in our writing. New members are always made welcome and usually whisked off to the local coffee shop at the end of meetings for sustenance and socialisation with the rest of the crew.
Welcome to Fairfield Writers Group
We hope you will stop for a while and browse our site and if you like what you see, please visit us again soon.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Short Story: Another Entrapment - Conclusion (Rated Mature) by Carol
Frantic, Jessie shouts,’ Who is this?’
‘Never you mind, Jessie. You’ll be hearing from me again soon.’
She slams the receiver down into its cradle. Terrified, she rushes as fast as she can manage to bolt the back door and check the front door and windows. Her ankle throbs and she glances at it to find it’s swollen and a nasty bruise has formed.
Someone is banging on the back door.
‘Go away,’ she yells. ‘Go away and leave me alone.’
‘It’s me Ma. Will. Let me in!’
Jessie unbolts the door and clings to Will.
‘What in the hell has been going on?’
‘Someone saw us, Will!’
‘He phoned just now! He saw us at the creek. He saw you digging!’
‘Who in the hell could it be?’ Will wonders out loud.
‘Maybe it was whoever was driving past in that car.’
‘I don’t think so. It was too far away from us.’
‘Well I don’t know, but he said I’d be hearing from him again soon.
‘Now Ma, are you sure you didn’t dream all this? You know how you always fall asleep in the chair.’
‘I’m sure,’ answers Jessie. ‘At least I think I am.’
‘She sits down and wraps the blanket around herself.
‘Come on, lets forget about it for tonight,’ says Will. ‘We’ll have that talk and then you can go to bed. Things will look better in the morning.’
Will sits down beside her.
‘We’ll keep what happened tonight between you and me. When people ask where Dad is we’ll just say he left us and said he’s never coming back and that we reckon he’s probably headed for Queensland.’
Jessie sits there slowly turning the wedding ring on her finger.
‘Ma, are you listening to me?’
‘Yes,’ she answers in a faraway voice and keeps turning the ring.
Will continues, ‘We’ll tell Mick and Lizzie the same story when they come home from boarding school in the holidays. There’s no sense in upsetting them while they’re still at school.’
‘No, that’s quite right, dear.’
‘How does all that sound?’ asks Will.
‘How does what sound, Will?’
Will is exasperated. ‘Have you listened to a word I’ve said? We’ll tell Mick and Lizzie the same story when they come home from boarding school in the holidays. There’s no sense in upsetting them while they’re still at school,’ he repeats. 'Now, lets make a pact never to mention this night to each other again. It will be easier that way and as if it’s never happened. I’ll burn the blankets in the morning and then we’ll be ready to start our lives afresh. I’m sure we can make a go of it and manage this place on our own.’
‘Whatever you say, Son.’ Jessie smiles at him and pats his hand. ‘You were such a dear little boy.’
Will frowns but says nothing; instead he tells her, ‘don’t worry, Ma. It’ll be all right!’ He puts his arm around Jessie’s shoulders and kisses her on the cheek. ‘You’ll see!’
It’s morning and Jessie wakes to noises in the kitchen.’ Who’s clattering around making such a din at this hour?’ Her head is aching as she drags herself out of bed. There’s food to prepare in readiness for the breakfast that she always cooks when milking is finished. There are plenty of chores to done as well. Jessie doesn’t know how she’ll finish them today. Her face is sore and she’s tired even though last night she had fallen into a sleep of exhaustion not stirring once throughout the night. Jessie wonders why she can’t remember a single thing from yesterday. She wonders how her ankle got to be so swollen and painful. It’s hard to walk as she makes her way to the kitchen.
The voices start softly at first and Jessie turns around to see where they’re coming from but no one is there. They laugh, mocking her, or so Jessie thinks and she shakes her head to make them go away. She limps along the hallway as fast as she can and bursts into the kitchen. Everything seems so normal and like how it always is, but still the voices persist; even louder now.
The cause of the clatter in the kitchen is Will. He’s made coffee in the percolator and points to it as he drinks a cup. Alarmed, he notices that Jessie has put her blouse on back to front and is wearing odd shoes.
‘Morning, Will,’ she greets him. ‘No thanks. I won’t have one. Shouldn’t you be down milking the cows?’
‘I’m just about to leave. Had a job to do first.’
Jessie can smell something burning. ‘Have you been burning rubbish?’
‘Yeah, I have.’
‘Smells awful this early in the morning doesn’t it?’
She rummages around in the cutlery drawer. ‘That’s funny Will, have you seen my carving knife? I need it to get breakfast. It seems to have disappeared.’ The laughter is unbearable and struggling for normality Jessie asks, ‘what would you like for your breakfast this morning, Son?’
‘I'm not hungry thanks, Ma.’
Will’s answer is distant. The laughter drowns out all other sounds; everything is a blur through Jessie’s eyes; bile rises up in her throat and it feels like her head is about to explode. Breathing heavily, she sits down on a chair and looks with vacant eyes at her son.
‘Where’s your father? Must have gone down early to milk the cows I suppose. I didn’t stir when he got out of bed this morning. He’ll be hungry when he’s finished.’
The telephone rings on the big old sideboard next to where she sits. Jessie picks up the receiver.
‘Hello,’ she says, ‘who’s calling? Speak up please, I can’t hear you.’