Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller (11 page)

‘What’s your girlfriend’s name?’ Andre asked, making notes.

‘Jen.’

‘What condition is she in now?’

John-Paul glanced up at model boats mounted on the walls. ‘She’s terrified of him, can’t sleep, always imagines he’s there... And so do I.’ He closed his eyes.

‘How involved are the police?’

‘They aren’t this time. The family made a report for threats to kill the first time, but the police never caught him, so her father took the law into his own hands, rounded up some friends and they gave him a hiding. They left him for dead in the woods.’

Andre finished his pint and placed his hands behind his head. ‘How old is the subject?’

‘About thirty.’

Andre flashed a smile and appeared to look through John-Paul. ‘He’s ten years younger than me. Has he said he’s going to kill Jen?’

‘No, he wants to drive her mad. Psychological death he calls it. He’s told her that.’

‘I need to see Jen,’ Andre said. ‘I must speak with her before I go any further.’

‘Will you do it? Do we have an agreement?’ John-Paul asked eagerly. ‘I’ll get a crime report on obviously.’ He could see no emotion in Andre’s features.

‘No, John-Paul, we don’t have an agreement yet. I’ll decide once I’ve spoken to Jen alone. Don’t do anything till then. I’ll detail dates and times when we can meet and put them in your tray tomorrow. Circle the appropriate one and return it to me.’ He pushed himself up. ‘Thanks for the pint,’ he said and then left the pub.

17

Sitting at a table, Dave inspected his nails, sipped his Jack Daniels and coke, and then nervously scanned the pub. He should be feeling more relaxed - he was on his second shot.

He’d never feel comfortable meeting women. That was obvious at the age of twenty nine, having still not outgrown the anxiety attacks these events triggered. This was their second date too. He gazed at the fruit machine beside the bar and became transfixed by the flashing lights. Maybe his father was to blame...

‘Hi, Dave. D’you want another drink?’

He jolted as he broke from his trance and spilt his drink.

‘That’s a yes then!’ Fay laughed.

‘Thanks, Fay, how are-’

‘What is it?’ she interrupted. ‘J.D. and coke?’

‘Yes. Thanks.’

Fay winked at him and then made her way to the bar.

Feeling self-conscious, Dave glanced around him. There were only a dozen or so middle-aged people in the pub and none of them were looking his way. He shifted position slightly and then bounced his fingertips on top of his greying hair, which he’d styled into a fringe with gel. Then he watched Fay place her order and felt shivers of excitement. She was a big girl, which meant he didn’t have to endure a supercilious attitude and lethargic expressions – a crushing combination. Raise your hopes because you’re on a date with a cover model, and all she does is sit there and yawn while you try your best to entertain her. Physical perfection did not appeal to him. He’d settle for personality every time.

Fay’s choice of clothing - black leggings and a tight white top - accentuated her love handles and large hips. Dave smiled.

As she walked back to him, Dave could see she’d bought herself a pint of beer. Her short, black hair was flopped over one side of her forehead, and her breasts were huge.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

After nodding shyly and interlocking his fingers, Dave said, ‘I’m fine thanks. You look nice tonight.’

‘Thanks. I spent a long time getting ready.’

‘It was worth it,’ he mumbled.

She frowned at him. ‘Why?’

Panic generated a thick film of sweat on his forehead. ‘Erm…because I’m impressed.’ His mouth contorted as he quickly swallowed a mouthful of whiskey.

Fay scowled at him. ‘You mean I have to dress up to appeal to you?’

‘No, no, I find you attractive, take my word for it.’

Fay giggled. ‘I’m only joking, dickhead!’

Dave grinned awkwardly. Fay had a direct and open personality. She also had that frustrating knack of appearing serious when she was joking, so you didn’t know how to react. He took another sip of his drink.

‘Did you arrange a date with Col when we could all go out?’ she asked him, then took a huge gulp of beer.

‘I spoke to him about it, but he’s too busy at the moment.’

‘Oh, charming. I’m sure that’ll impress Stacey. She’s very keen on Col.’ She pointed a finger at Dave. ‘He’d better not hurt her.’

‘Fay, I’m in no way responsible for Col’s behaviour.’ Dave shook his head. ‘He’s a mate, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re alike or that I approve of the things he says or does.’ He felt strongly about this and would not be made a scapegoat. ‘So don’t think of us as two of a kind.’

‘Are you saying Stacey’s in danger?’

‘No, I’m just asking you to differentiate between myself and Col. We are two totally different people. Don’t judge me by him.’ He was glad he’d said this. He didn’t want Col jeopardising his relationship with Fay.

Fay looked down, irritated. ‘Dave, you’ve made it clear that you’re not the same, but as his mate, you’re in a position to know if she’s in danger or not.’ Her green eyes turned steely. ‘And as her friend I demand to know if she’s at risk. She hasn’t called me in weeks!’

Dave sighed. ‘Fay, Col is adamant that he won’t hit women, so you needn’t worry about that. He’s just unpredictable, that’s all. Stacey’s old enough to make up her own mind about him.’ He finished his drink. ‘Are you ready for another?’

She pushed her empty glass towards him. ‘Get yourself a pint, too. Then we can drink together.’

He picked up her glass. ‘Yeah, good idea.’ He closed his eyes as he moved off. She’d drink him under the table!

As soon as he returned, Fay grabbed her drink and swallowed almost half. He was not a big drinker. She was going to be disappointed.

By her seventh pint, he’d had four and felt drunk. They were buying drinks separately now, as he couldn’t keep up. Ryan would be in stitches.

‘Tell me more about Col,’ she slurred.

‘He’s a good friend of... We cover for each other.’ He hiccupped. ‘He’s just mad, that’s all.’ He felt a closeness developing between them. To convince her of his devotion he would confide in her. And it would be good therapy to share his thoughts with someone other than Ryan. He suspected Ryan was driving him insane, if he wasn’t there already. How could he know?

‘D’you think I’m insane?’ he asked, his body swaying under the excessively bright lighting. People were moving around too fast. He wished they’d sit down or leave.

‘How d’you know Col’s mad?’ Sitting beside him, she leaned closer.

Feeling intimidated with her so close to him, he edged away a little. ‘You’ve known Col for
one
night... No, one
evening
. Myself and Ryan have been that close’ - he held up crossed fingers - ‘for twenty-one years.’ His hand wavered. ‘That close.’

‘Who the hell is Ryan?’ she asked, looking perplexed.

Dave grinned. ‘Fay, Ryan and Col are one and the same.’ He shook his head and turned his palms upwards. ‘He likes to use different identities, don’t ask me why…because I don’t know. I don’t understand how his mind works, I just play along. Once Ryan sets his mind…on something, you can’t change it. God knows I’ve tried.’ He bowed his head and spoke sombrely. ‘I’ve spent my entire life trying. And where has it left me?... Probably on the brink of insanity.’ He wanted her sympathy. Instead, Fay lit a cigarette. ‘He’s a good friend,’ he added, trying to ignore the background noise.

‘Why is he like that?’ she asked, blowing smoke in his face.

He coughed. ‘It’s partly gen…etic inheritance,’ he stuttered. ‘And partly...’ He gazed at the ceiling. ‘You know what worries me?’

‘What?’ she asked impatiently.

‘We had a good friend called Geoff.’ Dave took a tiny sip of his beer. ‘Ryan and I met him…at school and he became part of our circle. We went out all the time. When I joined the police force, Ryan and Geoff hung out together. I had too much studying to do.’ He glimpsed at Fay who looked incredibly attractive. He dared to let his eyes wander to her breasts briefly and then looked back up. ‘Many years ago, Geoff–’ he began to choke on his words ‘–committed suicide.’ He paused, then wiped his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Fay said, putting her arm around him and guiding his head onto her chest.

‘Ryan didn’t go to the funeral and he’s never visited Geoff’s grave,’ Dave continued. ‘He says he couldn’t bear to see it, that he’d break down and wouldn’t be able to recover.’ Dave lifted his head and looked at her. ‘How selfish is that? Will he dismiss
me
so easily when I die?’

Fay smiled and kissed him. He closed his eyes. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, but seconds later pulled away.

‘You’re a nice bloke, Dave, but a shit kisser.’

Dave felt himself turn red. Fay rested her hand on his thigh. He avoided eye contact with her as she slowly stroked his leg and then squeezed his balls. He looked up at her as she stroked his hair. ‘Want to come back to my place?’ she asked.

‘Oh yeah, okay.’

Clasping his buttocks with her hands, Fay pulled him toward her until her face pressed against his stomach. She’d mastered the technique of deep-throating - an achievement she felt was worthy of print on a CV - but her skill was wasted on Dave. His dick and nuts didn’t reach her tonsils. She watched him sway from side to side as he raked his fingers through his hair. Minutes later, she pulled away, undressed and tossed her knickers at him. He caught them and gawked at her as she stood among the pizza boxes, crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers that littered her lounge floor.

‘Lick the piss stains,’ she ordered.

Dave nearly retched as he lifted the cloth to his mouth and pretended to obey. Fay dived backwards onto the couch. He watched her fat spread as she landed.

‘Get your face in here,’ she ordered, opening her legs wide. He watched, excited, as she offered herself to
him
– Dave Pickett.

His smile slowly faded. It looked like pink seaweed. It winked at him.

‘Lick this stinking pussy!’ she demanded and then moaned, thrusting her head back against the headrest. Meanwhile, Dave observed it. ‘Hurry up!’ she squealed. ‘It’s already wet for you!’

He gripped the cushion either side of her waist and then cautiously moved his face towards it... It smelt like faeces - real
shit
! Beer swirled in his stomach and leapt at his throat. He closed his eyes and muffled his groan. He poked his tongue at it and then pressed all of it against her. He moved his face up and felt a net of wiry pubic hair scrape along his tongue. Instinctively, he turned away and slapped his hand over his mouth.
Please don’t be sick!
He hovered uncertainly for a while and thankfully recovered.

‘Come on, this is getting frustrating!’ she shouted.

Once again he lowered himself, feeling disgust at the intrusive thought that he may as well be licking her arsehole. She pushed the back of his head into her, until he couldn’t breathe. Then she removed her hand and he licked her like she was a foul tasting lollipop. He’d never seen so much pubic hair - there was more than he had on his entire body! He tried to push it aside, but it was so long it curled over his fingers and the ends stuck to his tongue. He retched and drew his head back.

Fay looked at him. ‘Have you done this before?’

‘Yes,’ he croaked.

‘What’s the fucking problem?’

‘You’ve got a lot of pubes.’

She tutted. ‘Well, open the lips with your fingers, then it won’t get in the way. Hurry up! This is getting embarrassing.’

The ordeal continued… He went down and placed two fingers on each lip. He tried to pull them apart, but they slipped from his grip. He tried again. She was so wet that it proved impossible. He heard her growl, so he dug all his fingers into her and pulled her apart, praying she didn’t scream with pain… She didn’t. He remembered Ryan calling the clitoris a ‘bean’. Fay’s bore more resemblance to a piece of popcorn. It glistened and throbbed at him, and he lapped at it with his tongue, like a cat drinking milk. He wanted to squeeze his nostrils together, but his fingers were in use. His forearms ached with the strain of holding her there. She moaned above him and he tried to go faster, but as he flicked his tongue over it, all he could think of was one of Ryan’s comparisons – squid. It
was
like a writhing, wriggling, squirming
squid
. And he was licking it. He shot back and retched violently. It was a miracle he hadn’t puked.

Fay covered her eyes with her hands. ‘Does oral sex disgust you?’

‘I’m sorry. I just don’t like to do it.’

‘Okay, Romeo, then you’d better fuck me good. You’ve got a lot of making up to do.’ Fay resumed her position, and as she parted her legs further, Dave noticed a piece of dark chocolate smear across her calf.

He felt his penis. It was only semi-erect. A wave of terror swept through him. He couldn’t disappoint her or she’d leave him. He had to satisfy her if he wanted to go out with her. He’d been alone for too long. He shuffled his body in front of her and guided his limp penis to her vagina. He knew that as soon as he tried to insert it, it would squash against his stomach and pop out of her. He watched it intently as he moved in and closed his eyes when it slid in. She was so wide she took him. She murmured approvingly which encouraged him. He grabbed the headrest and thrust himself in and out of her. He could barely feel friction, but she enjoyed it and that was all that mattered. His right knee sunk into something sticky down the side of the cushion but he ignored it. It wasn’t long before he banged his head on the head-rest - he was losing firmness fast. He tensed his bladder muscles, but when he released them his penis shrunk substantially. It was hopeless. He withdrew and apologised. Then he remembered the excuse and felt overwhelming relief.