The First Betrayal (5 page)

Chapter Twenty Two  

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Unfortunately, they had no police presence on the island. Government cutbacks meant rural stations had been closed, and the larger towns and cities had swallowed the smaller stations and their staff. Communities had to fend for themselves, and resort to their own means of protection. Text alerts had become very popular, where, if someone saw someone or something suspicious, they messaged times, descriptions and relevant areas of sightings. The alerts were very useful, except for visiting tourists who may have gotten lost and who were simply travelling slowly as to get their bearings. This had caused a few embarrassing moments, but all in all a good idea.  Neighbour hood watch was another community scheme, which had also posed problematic. Lovers trysts for the faithful and not so faithful were a minefield of chance and luck. A sure fire way for the  suspecting and not so suspecting spouses, to discover indiscretions of lust, that were  meant solely for personal diaries and in-depth therapy.

For the youthful, the sneaking in and out of windows had become hazardous. Parents woken in the night, to be told their precious daughter, or studious son, had snuck out and were cavorting in the wood walk. One would imagine a small price to pay for a little security and peace of mind, but a surprising number of people had opted out of these helpful community schemes!

A story had been circulating for a while about an elderly man, who had been burgled twice. Both times on the evening, that he had collected his pension from the local post office. Two men, held him hostage and bullied, threatened and physically coerced the whereabouts of his money. Upon leaving on the second night, they promised the bloodied, bruised and terrified man, that they would see him again the following week, on payday. That night, he packed a few clothes and personal belongings, pumped the tyre on his old black Nelly, threw his life into the tattered wicker basket and set off.  Leaving behind the land that his grandfather, father and he had worked, loved, and shed blood, sweat and tears over. The house that his grandmother and mother had, with very little, made a home, a home they and he had been proud of, a home he was leaving to soulless thugs. From the other side of the island, he cycled thirty miles in the dead of night, to seek safety and refuge in the nursing home. He relinquished his dignity, denounced his freedom and worst of all, and signed over his family heritage for the simple act of sleeping safe.

Although this had supposedly happened before Stephens’s time here, whether true or not, the issue was still the same and still as relevant. The island was a good and safe place, but not without the usual drunken fights and neighbour squabbles. They all knew it was a matter time before something happened and the police would be needed. However, no one would have believed just how badly.     

Getting through to the police desk, he informed the sergeant on duty what he had discovered. With the weather so bad, it was impossible to get anyone over that night, but the sergeant promised as soon as it eased, someone would be there to deal with it. He also asked if Stephen could secure the premises overnight without contaminating anything. Doing as requested, he went back in and removed the keys from Gladys’s bag, which he found in the kitchen. It was distasteful going through her things, knowing she was lying dead in the bath, but it had to be done. Locking up the house him and Chequers climbed back in the jeep and went home.

Chapter Twenty Three

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Vera was like an oversexed teenager waiting to go on a third date. Her pulse was racing and she was flushed with anticipation. She fluttered around the home waiting for Adams arrival. Checking on this and correcting that. Everything was as usual, running like clockwork, but she picked and picked at the smallest things.

The staff were aware of why she was behaving so strangely, and were all-laughing at her. Desperate, pathetic, middle-aged fool, just some of the comments the jealous, back-stabbers were whispering about her. She didn’t care, opportunities like Adam only happened on rare occasions and she wasn’t about to let this one slip past her.

She hovered at the reception desk and at 6.15; he strolled up the drive. He walked with confidence, self assured in his body and very aware of how good he looked.

‘Adam, I’m so glad I was here to welcome you, and delighted you came.’

‘How lovely to see you again Vera and might I be bold enough to say how beautiful you look.’

‘Well - - thank you Adam, that’s so nice of you to say. Now please come and meet everybody. Those who can are in the main dining room, and the other residents who can’t join us will be happy to talk with you in their rooms.’

‘Thank you Vera, I’m very hopeful that at least one of these wonderful old people will remember my uncle. My mother would be so happy to hear news of him.  She hasn’t heard from him in some time and pride dictates that he should be the one to get in touch and of course, my mother has been too proud to chase after her brother. Now where are those meatballs I’ve been looking forward to all day?’

Vera played hostess like she had never done before, charming and interested. She allowed Adam carte blanch with the residents while she watched and waited for an opportune moment. That moment occurred when monopoly had finished with a petulant Mary, who claimed that she owned all the hotels and didn’t believe anyone who went to jail should receive monetary recompense.

‘Jail is where we keep the bad guys. Why would we give the fuckers money? Keep them locked up and throw away the bankers. That’s what we should do. ’

‘Come on Mary, you owe me, I let you have that hotel at cost. The penthouse is vacant, so let’s get fruity.’ 

‘You are a dirty old has been Ezra, one good push and your hip would give out.’

‘You know it, the hydrotherapy pool will be quiet tonight, how about it Mary, those bubbles will really loosen you up, and, my hip works better with a bit of lubrication.’

‘All right Ezra lets see you in action. Come on George, Edna, what about it Charles. Everyone to the pool for a bit of after dinner fun.’ Mary led the march, slowly, walkers and canes, crutches and wheelchairs, down the hall and across to the recreation area. Followed closely by two of the helpers who didn’t look too happy at the sudden turn the evening had taken.

Vera couldn’t believe her luck, and moved in quickly for the kill.

‘They really are a great group; they must keep you on your toes.’ Adam laughingly said to her.

‘Did you get any useful information out of them?’

‘No, I’m afraid no one seems to remember my uncle. My mother must have it wrong. Still, I have had a lovely evening and I met you. That more than makes up for the disappointment.’

‘That’s so sweet of you. Can I interest you in a hot toddy, its turning very nasty out there?

‘I would love that; I’m not ready to call it a night yet.’

Vera led him to the kitchen and seated him at the counter while she prepared the tasty tipples. They chatted about generalities and after the effects of the toddies kicked in, they started to flirt. Gently at first, and then more blatantly. After her third toddy, Vera had enough Dutch courage to suggest going to an empty room in the resident’s wing. Adam accepted the invitation and followed her there. The rain lashed against the window as Vera aggressively launched herself at him.

Pulling the clothes from his firm body, she was like a rabid animal. Inflamed and ferocious in her desire, she was thrilled that Adam met her lust with equal intensity. Wild animals would have been taken aback at their behaviour, and half an hour later, they emerged from the room dishevelled but sated. Vera said a reluctant goodbye to him and went back to tidy the room so housekeeping wouldn’t notice in the morning. She waited for the residents to be in their rooms safe and left the night shift to it.

Having walked to work that morning, she was relieved that the rain had eased off.

She normally enjoyed her walk home through the wood walk. It was calming and serene, after a busy day looking after her residents. The moon cracking through the fir tree canopy, needles crunching underfoot, and the luxury smell of sap and earth.

The blackness of the sky was clearing, allowing the moon to make a watery appearance. Vera almost glided along the sidewalk, her thoughts jumbling together like marbles in a bag. Her mother’s posthumous comments would no doubt be interesting.

'Way to go girl, see what happens when you stack the deck in your favour, you can’t possibly think there will be more to it. Still a one night stand is better than nothing, can’t see him coming back for seconds.' Her mother wasn’t cruel, she was forthright, and didn’t believe in false hope.

Vera knew the score and didn’t really believe that Adam would want more. It was a one off, a physical combustion. Nevertheless --- it would be nice. She inhaled deep breaths of the damp grass scented air. Small gusts of a breeze tussled her hair and nudged its cold nose around her neck, making her shiver. A noise behind, startled her. She wasn’t sure what kind of noise, she hadn’t been paying attention. It was just a noise, but it was something different to all the other night time noises. Her heart beat a little faster, should she stop and turn around, or keep walking. She kept walking, quicker than before and the night noises remained the same. Again, a noise, but she still couldn’t place it. Swiftly, she swivelled around; hoping to see whatever was making the noise. Nothing. Standing her ground, she waited, trying to be brave and in control of the situation. After a few seconds, she resumed her journey home. It remained uneventful until she was near her front gate, then a different kind of noise alarmed her. It disturbed her so much, that she ran to the gate, shoved it open and frantically scoured her bag for the keys. As in every scary story you’ve ever read or watched on TV, the keys were of course impossible to find, so she resorted to her emergency key, she kept hidden under a rock behind the wall. The noise was growing louder, but she finally managed to get the door open.  A big gust of wind picked up a bundle of dead leaves and propelled them past her front gate, and on down the road. An empty drink can had gathered with the leaves, rattled, and scraped on the pavement as it travelled causing the unexpected noise. It wasn’t what she expected to see, but the relief was immense. Close to hysterics, she quelled the rising laughter in her throat and went in to pour herself a large gin.

Better!

Chapter Twenty Four

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The church was quiet. It always was at that time of night. A small number of lights were always on, like a beacon of sanctuary, even though you couldn’t get in when it was locked. A sign of the times. The smell of incense always prevailed; no matter how long between uses or how long the doors were open. It permeated every knot in the wooden pews, each pained paint stroke of Christ’s final, tortured journey home to His Father, 'The Stations of the Cross.'

Mike lit the first candles of the day, remembering as he did each poor soul that had perished in the last few hours. He went out to the sacristy to continue the abandoned sermon. Re-reading what he had already written, Mike discarded it. He had reconsidered, and in his head had mentally penned a new version.

An hour and ten minutes later, Mike put down his pen and read over his work.

'Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.'

‘We usually only associate this phrase with Our Lords prayer. From the beginning of time, trust and betrayal have walked hand in hand with good and evil. Temptation and trust equal betrayal, and our confessionals are full of people admitting to carnal thoughts of someone other than their spouse, or worse, confessing to actual adultery. One wonders if they had indeed wrestled with their conscience before making such a monumental decision. I call it monumental, because that’s exactly what it is. To give in to the temptation to cheat has so many consequences. A loved ones trust shattered, the heartbreak and the possible devastation of a family.

As priests, we also have to face the same temptations, only our spouse is a lot more vengeful. You’ve all heard of the 'Wrath of God.' I jest, He’s not that bad, but as I said, we have to resist the physical side of our lives. Everyone is aware of the churches greatest shame, the ultimate betrayal of young children who trusted these priests. Temptation gives us the power to be better people and do the right thing. Let us pray together to try and take the high ground and put temptation where it belongs. 

In Gods very own rubbish bin.’

Not bad he thought, even if he said so himself. As he did a little back patting, he heard voices in the church. Someone needing spiritual guidance or just alone time. As he was about to round the corner and show himself, he recognised one of the voices. Evelyn. The other one he didn’t know. He paused and waited, unsure what to do. Then the voices changed, suddenly they were softer and gentler than before. He waited a bit longer and then the moaning started. Mike wasn’t an expert in these things, but he had a fair idea of what was going on. Creeping and then peeping around the corner, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There on Gods holy alter, were two women, Evelyn and Lucy Woodcock, doing things he had never even thought of. He tried to avert his gaze but he was drawn back.  

Lucy was lying on the steps to the alter, her legs spread with Evelyn between them. Mikes body was doing the unthinkable, it, was betraying him, like literally never before. The sensual moans from Lucy were driving him crazy, and as Evelyn explored Lucy’s welcoming erotic regions, Mike struggled to contain himself. It seemed like forever, but within minutes, Lucy was screaming silently, she was too late, trying to respect the sanctum of the church. Evelyn moved upwards to Lucy’s mouth, and when she licked her own juices from her lovers lips, Mike nearly lost his mind. They kissed like teenagers on a first date, devouring each other as if their very lives depended on it. He withdrew to the sacristy and from there out to his house. Aching with a newfound desire, Mike paced the floor in the sitting room, swallowing gulps of a large whiskey.

Was God testing him, to make the right decision, or did He expect him to fail. Something was very wrong, over the last two days; he had felt a sinister presence on the island. Stephen thought he was being paranoid, but there was definitely more going on than mere coincidence. The more whiskey he swallowed, the aching became tolerable. That was until Evelyn entered the room. She was either very quiet, or Mike had been so caught up in his own misery, that he hadn’t heard her.

‘Hello Father Mike, I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I just happened to be in the area, and thought I’d stop by.’ Mike didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.

‘I know you were there Father Mike, I could sense you watching. Did you enjoy what you saw, or were you jealous perhaps?’

‘Why would I be jealous?’ and damn it, he could hear the tremor in his own voice.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you here?’ Mike tried to regain some semblance of authority. He thought his voice sounded more like his own, but the look on Evelyn’s face said otherwise.

‘You were watching us Father Mike, and, you were enjoying our little show. Ill ask again, did you enjoy our irreverent behaviour, I refuse to believe that you are immune to normal sexual desires. You may be a priest, but you are still a man. A man in which I have smelled a wretched yearning. Like it or not Father Mike, you are just like every other man, horny and human.’  Evelyn dropped on to the sofa, draping herself seductively across its flowery fabric. Her beauty spoke without words, eyes greener than a fresh mown lawn and she smelt even sweeter.  Hair like coloured mahogany wood nestled on her shoulders, the curls sitting happily on her buxom breasts. She was arrogant in her self-assurance, and almost repulsive in her sexual exuberance.

Mike was lost. Words that hadn’t even formed dyed in his throat, a libido he never knew existed, burned in his loins. He was in turmoil over the effects that his body had developed since meeting this bewitching woman. She was a temptress, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist. Rummaging up all his will power, he drew upon the sermon that he had written only a short while before, and sucking in his gut and groin, inhaled some moxey. He was an ordained priest, and he held his vows seriously. Some random woman wasn’t about to undermine his lifelong beliefs and desecrate the holy order that he held more dear than life itself.

Dear god, the smell of her was overwhelming. It was like burnt roses with a splash of freesias. Sultry and sweet.

‘I think you should leave. Your futile efforts to seduce me are disrespectful and comical in there transparency.’

‘I might be transparent, but I know weakness when I smell it, and Mike, you positively reek. In fact, I have seen your weakness bulging, so do not kid yourself. You want me and I want to desecrate you and your chaste vows.’

‘For the last time, get out. My body might be showing weakness, but my head and heart will always overpower and defeat.’

‘All right Father Mike, Ill go, but I don’t like to lose, so I won’t be giving up.’   

Mike slumped into the nearest chair, his legs suddenly losing the ability to hold him up. His heart was thumping in his chest, a mixture of temper and shame burning his face.