Falling for Jennifer Ch. 03

Behind him he heard the rendering of metal as the Jaguar door finally opened, and then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel.

"You are fornicators," the Bishop said again. His voice was measured - perhaps even more terrifying in its normality. "You and your whore sister."

"Go to hell, Tobias."

"Oh, I doubt it. You, on the other hand -" the barrels swung down towards his head.

David closed his eyes and waited for oblivion. There was a metallic click and he opened them again to see the Bishop smiling down at him.

"Oops...not loaded. How silly of me." He rummaged in his pocket and fed a single remaining shell into a breech.

"Tell your sister to come out, and I will spare you."

"Get fucked."

The Bishop laughed. "Tell her, or I'll blow off your other leg." He rested the barrel on the bloodied flesh and watched while David writhed in agony. "Tell her now."

"She's not here. She left this morning."

Only one round left - save it for the whore. "Liar!" he hissed, "I saw her with you, and now you will burn, I think." He walked slowly to the Jaguar and carried the plastic jerrycan of fuel to where David lay. The top was tight and he put the shotgun down, humming softly to himself as he unscrewed the lid, and grunting in satisfaction at the acrid stink of the gasoline. What had Hebrews said about it? 'For our God is a consuming fire'. And there was enough fuel here to devour this wretch and his sinning slut sister together. Yes, that would be good - to burn them together, fused in death as they had been in life. Perhaps -

The little .22 bullet struck his elbow and shattered it and he screamed in pain, turning to see what had hit him. Jennifer Griffiths was striding across the lawn, the little target rifle in her hands. She stopped to work the bolt and fire, and he felt the strike of another bullet into the rubbery muscle of his chest. It was like the sting of a bee and he laughed hysterically.

"Come to me, you harlot!" he shouted, "yes, come to me and perish with your brother." The shotgun was at his feet and he bent to retrieve it with his left hand, his fingers clumsy and slick with blood, and it was heavy. He saw she was dressed in shorts and a thin top and her legs were bare: those long, glorious legs that should have been opened for him, and he giggled. Perhaps he might take her still, before she burned.

The shotgun was up now, his finger fumbling for the trigger when she fired again. The bullet entered through the thin wall of his belly and struck his spine, severing it, and he collapsed like a sack of potatoes to lie on his back to stare up at her as she approached. In the distance he could hear sirens, but there was no pain, and he watched as she kicked away the gun and ran the three steps to her brother.

Jen tore off her blouse and wound it around David's leg just below the knee, talking to him as he drifted into unconsciousness. "Stay with me, David. Stay with me. You're safe now." The flesh was mangled and there were splinters of bone in it, and the oozing blood was as thick and dark as tar. "Stay with me my love."

Behind her, John Tobias dragged himself to the fallen jerrycan. It was on its side, the gas still dribbling out into a little pool, but he saw there was enough for his task and she was close by now. With clumsy fingers he extracted the lighter from his left pocket and lifted it to the nozzle, and he lit the flame.

*

Hardware Lane in Melbourne was full of pedestrians on that glorious Spring morning. The sun was slanting through the leafy green trees and the Petunias in their baskets were filled with red and yellow and crimson, and the little cafes were bustling with people looking for a good coffee or a meal.

The waitress, a pretty little thing with dimples, had just left two cappuccinos on the table and Jennifer smiled at the searching look her new friend had given the young woman. I suppose, she thought, if you're running a business like hers you're always looking for talent: or perhaps the girl was already working for her, and serving tables during the day to earn a little extra. No matter. She picked up the spoon and dabbed it into her froth and smiled.

"So, how's business, Rose?"

"Busy. I think, next to the burial business, there'll always be a brisk trade in what I do." She laughed softly - well, there's an idea - perhaps I'll open up a nursery on one side of the shop and an undertakers on the other...sort of cradle to grave care, so to speak."

Jen smiled at the image. "And the new premises?"

"Nearly done. The old bastard did us a favour with that firebomb - we were able to buy the place next door and expand." She sipped her coffee. "Why don't you come over and see it when we're ready? I'm thinking of putting on drinks for a few special friends."

"As long as you don't take pictures of me. How is Millie?"

"Moved on to greener pastures. Luckily she'd just stepped out for a bite to eat or she would have been crispy bacon." Rose's eyes met her younger friend's. "Speaking of crispy bacon, what happened that day, Jen? You've never really told me."

Jen's mind fled back to the scene: how she'd turned at the little sound behind her to see Tobias lifting the burning can, his one good arm engulfed in flame as he swung it back to hurl it over David and her. She watched in dreadful fascination as he tried to launch it...the arm moving, propelling it forward, his hand turning black and his face twisted in anguish - or was it hate? It didn't matter. It was too late to move, and they were doomed.

"He tried to throw the plastic jerrycan at us. Nearly succeeded, too, but the heat melted it and it burst all over him before he could let go."

"So he was right next to you."

Jen nodded. "He was paralysed from the waist down and there was nothing I could do." At night she still heard the shrill screams of his agony and saw his writhing limbs, the flesh of his face crisping, bubbling like pork fat - ears and hair and nose burning away - and somehow, though the flame, those dark eyes still open, staring at her though the smoke of that ghastly immolation as if from the gates of hell. It would be a while before she forgot those eyes.

"And David?"

Jen shook away the dark image. The fire had twisted his body in a bow and the blackened claws of his hands were frozen in dreadful supplication. So much for his God.

"See for yourself," she replied.

Rose turned as the tall figure limped towards her. He smiled and bent for a kiss, and eased himself into the chair next to the two women.

"What, no cane?" Rose asked.

David lifted his lower limb and tapped it against the table leg, emitting a clanking noise. "That's Titanium," he said, "stronger than steel. No sticks or canes required and I can jump tall buildings in a single bound."

"That's amazing, David! It seems only a couple of weeks since the surgeons were trying to save your leg."

"Five months, actually, and there really wasn't any option. It's not so bad - modern prosthetics have come a long way." He reached out and grasped his sister's hand. "And little Miss Pretty here seems to like me still, even though she calls me Captain Ahab from time to time."

Rose laughed. He didn't need to tell her - she could see it. Some couples radiated their feelings for each other, and these two were at the top of the list. Jen was regarding her brother, her eyes shining with love, and he was returning the gaze completely oblivious to anyone else. It was so strong that even passers-by smiled as they captured a little of their happiness.

If only it were me, Rose thought, but immediately quashed the idea. David and Jennifer Griffiths were two of life's beautiful people and they deserved each other.. She picked up her handbag before kissing them with a murmured good bye. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she might find a guy half as good.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see the waitress beckoning from a quiet corner of the lane. She really was a delicious little thing, Rose thought, with a face as innocent as an altar girl's - although the little lines around her eyes hinted at a different story.

"I, uh - my name's Sophie Andrews," she said hesitatingly, "I heard from someone that you might have some work - something different I could get my teeth into."

"Who told you that?"

"David Griffiths - um, the guy you've just had coffee with. I worked for him in the accounts department but it's not what I wanted. He told me you might have a vacancy."

Rose glanced over at David, wondering how he'd known that Sophie Andrews was call-girl material. He was certainly full of surprises, but that was one reason she liked him so much.

"Yes I do," she said. "But not everyone is suited to that kind of work." She extracted a card from her purse and handed it to the girl. "Why don't you call me this evening and we'll have a chat." The girl nodded happily and scurried away, and Rose saw David give her a wink.

With a final smile at him, Rose turned and walked away, her heels clicking on the paving. It felt like she was closing off something - a chapter of her life, perhaps. For a moment she was saddened, but then remembered that life was good. With girls like Sophie Andrews in my business I'll always be rich, she thought, and with friends like David and Jen, I'll never be lonely.

*

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