The Seven Deadly Sins: Sloth

Peter did go and spend one night with Jane. Being ten days after her marriage collapsed, he thought Fiona would be okay on her own for a short time. Jane needed some serious consoling. Her youngest child, thirteen-year-old Chloe, had come home from school, where she'd been asked if she was as big a slut as her mother. The child was distraught and asked her mother again what her father had done to deserve such punishment. Jane managed to keep up the strong façade until the children went to bed, then lost it completely. Things were far from how she'd imagined them. The trail of bodies lying behind her was getting to be an overwhelming drag on her psyche.

She and Peter had sex. They kept the noise down for the sake of propriety, but there was a desperate edge to their coupling, filled with whispered words reassuring each other that their love deserved what it had cost.

Jane was riding Peter reverse cowboy, forcing an insincere moan, and trying not to shudder while his saliva-greased finger caressed her anus when she froze. Only just that day, workmen had been there fitting a third new, state-of-the-art door opener to the roll-a-door. Now, in the pre-midnight quiet, she could clearly hear it opening. Peter never did know why she collapsed sobbing. He held her and they both fell into an exhausted sleep. He knew she was a wonderful person and that he loved her, but the term 'emotionally high maintenance' was starting to creep into his head more and more.

CHAPTER 8

Two days later, at noon on a school day, Peter dropped into Jane's house to surprise her. When she wasn't there, he rang her cell. She told him she was across the road, walking in the park, and to wait at the house. When she arrived, it wasn't missed by Peter that she was neither out of breath nor particularly dressed for exercise.

Conversation was stilted. Peter preoccupied with why she was being deceptive. Jane preoccupied with what she'd seen in the park and what it was doing to her conscience.

She'd gone to the park that morning to try and find Dave. She intended to ascertain his level of forgiveness of her. She'd reached the point where she was quite willing to beg him to take her back. Anything to combat her chronic loneliness and extreme insomnia. It was a win/win situation for her, she thought. He would either accept her back or tell her they were irrevocably finished. That, at least, would take the decision on their future away from her, and bizarrely, she thought that would ease her conscience. Fatigue does very strange things to logic.

She could see Dave in the top corner of the park and her flight reflex was immediately on overdrive. Three other winos surrounded him, one, the biggest of them, was right in Dave's face. As she approached reluctantly, the guy behind Dave hit him in the kidneys. Dave fell to the ground and all three of the others lay into him with their feet. Jane now realised why her husband was sporting bruises whenever she saw him. She called the police emergency number and gave details, urging them to be quick. One of the winos saw her and guessed what she was up to. He shouted to the others, and they all started in Jane's direction. She fled. They gave up as she ran toward her home, outstripping their shambling pace. That was when Peter rang her. She hung around the park until the police arrived, just before Peter.

They were having a coffee in her house and Jane was in full lie mode describing why she was in the park. It was almost a relief to her when Peter's cell rang. He sprang to his feet a few seconds into the conversation and with no word to her, sprinted for his car and screamed off. Then her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts over Peter's strange behaviour. It was the police. When they'd arrived at the park, there was no one in sight and no other witnesses to a beating. Did she recognise any of the men? Jane denied knowing them. She didn't want yet more condemning words, looks, and thoughts.

She greeted the children when they returned from school, made dinner, and was in the process of encouraging them toward their beds when Fiona rang. She sounded livid.

"Bitch! Did you set out to deliberately destroy my family?"

"Wh... what?"

"Brent is in hospital, he's in a fucking coma! The police say he was in bed with a woman and her husband came home unexpectedly. The guy beat the crap out of him. I hope you're satisfied, slut."

Fiona became the latest in a long line of hang-ups in Jane's recent life. She hardly knew Brent. Certainly, she had no idea about anything to do with his love life. She looked at the black screen of her phone, wondering why the hell she was being blamed for all the problems in Peter's family. She was the one seduced by Fiona's father. She was a victim of all this too. She could only surmise that Fiona just couldn't blame either her brother or her father but needed an outlet for her anger and fears.

CHAPTER 9

Jane used the hours that sleep used to fill that night to plan. The result was largely delusional but surprisingly co-ordinated. The lack of answers to her calls to Peter's phone told her that bridge was probably a smouldering ruin.

That left her with one option.

Jane aimed to get her husband back. Her method was to show him Peter was irrevocably gone by launching an attack on him. Surely, when Dave saw the damage she was trying to do, he would believe she was the victim going after her attacker.

Right on nine the next morning, she used Peter's own credit card to engage a lawyer. His brief was simple. Lift the restraining order on Dave and take one out against Peter. Thanks to the latter's explanations, she knew the process well. Her new shark suggested she might use accusations of rape and blackmail to cause damage and Jane was seriously contemplating it.

With that call over, Jane packed some food. At the last minute, she went to the bedroom and unlocked the gun safe in the closet. Like all Australians that wanted to own a pistol for home defence, Dave had joined a pistol club to acquire a twenty-two-calibre target pistol, then attended the club enough to keep his licence. He'd shown Jane how to use it. Jane loaded the pistol and put it and the remains of the box of ammo in her coat pocket. She hoped to convince Dave to come home immediately, but if he didn't, she wanted to give him the means to defend himself. She hurried to the park.

She burst through the trees and looked up toward wino corner. There was only one other guy there apart from her husband, but he was laying into a cowering Dave with a large stick. Not pausing to call the police, Jane accelerated toward them. Panting she shouted at the big wino.

"You leave my husband alone!"

With surprising speed, the big guy swung around and started toward the enraged woman. Jane reacted on reflex, pulling the pistol from her pocket, hoping like hell the sight of it would stop him. It didn't.

With increasing fear, Jane aimed and pulled the trigger. Which didn't move. Thinking fast, she undid the safety catch, aimed, and pulled again. With a scream, the wino went down, clutching his stomach.

EPILOGUE - Five years later

"That's an incredible story, Wendy. I've never encountered a couple that met in gaol before. It sounds like the stuff of fiction. Next thing you know your story will be a Netflix series."

"I swear it's absolutely true, Pauline."

"So, what were you in for?"

"Well, I came home and found my first husband in bed with my best friend. Ex best friend, I should say. I was as mad as a cut Tiger snake and clocked him on the back of the head with my briefcase as he was doing the deed. The rat couldn't take it on the chin, though, and called the police. They gave me an obligatory night in the cells for domestic abuse.

"I was just settling in when they brought in Dave and put him in the cell opposite me. God, Pauline, you should have seen him. You wouldn't recognise him. The guy was a wreck. What his ex-wife did to him... Have you ever heard anything so evil? I couldn't ignore his pain. It certainly took my mind off my own problems. It took me a couple of hours to get the full story out of him. He was obviously terrified that he'd lose his kids, and, even worse, that they'd be raised by a pair of bottom feeders like his ex and her lover.

"I know we'd only just met but something told me I could trust him, so I offered him a place to crash when he was released. I had that huge house to myself after the cheating scum I married split while I was in gaol. Anyway, Dave and I shared a bottle of bourbon and cooked up the plan to enable him to get custody of his kids by driving his wife off the cliff. What other choice did the guy have? The rich guy's lawyers had everything else sewn up. We never dreamed it would work out so well."

"So, how did you do it again?"

"Well, I was working as a lawyer at the time, that's how I knew the odds were stacked against Dave, but my first career choice was drama. I actually did a year at NIDA, the National Institute of the Dramatic Arts, you know, where Cate Blanchett and Mel Gibson studied, but whereas they studied acting, I studied makeup and costume design. It was my drama background that gave us the idea. Dave pretended to be living on the streets," said Wendy, chuckling at Pauline's shocked expression,

"Had I still been studying at NIDA I could have used Dave's made-up to look like a hobo as my end-of-year project. Dave got into character by spending some time with the homeless guys in the park. He said it was the most humbling experience of his life."

Wendy paused as Pauline's daughter sidled up; legs crossed.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Brown."

"Yes, Melissa."

"I need to pee, but someone is using the toilet near the pool and the one down here."

"I'm sorry. If you go up those stairs over there and turn left, there's another toilet along there. Or if you turn right, all the bedrooms along there have ensuites. If all those are busy, then go up the stairs to the top floor and use my bedroom ensuite."

Wendy watched the little girl rush off, impatient to do her business, and rejoin all her friends outside in the pool.

"Where was I? Oh, that's right, Dave getting into character. He became quite friendly with the park dwellers; brought them food and clothes. The clothes he gave them were second-hand, but good quality. He swapped them for their old stuff. I can still remember the stench of some of them; eau de rat's piss. We kept them in shed because the smell was so bad. He let them in on the story of what he was doing. Many of them were homeless after being let down by a spouse, so they were happy to help. Dave thinks most just liked having a purpose again. The kids helped him put cameras in the master bedroom and a couple of other places around the house."

"The kids knew Dave was faking it?"

"Yes, he wanted to make sure they agreed their mother was unfit to have custody of them. Kids aren't stupid. They know which parent values them more. Our kids are smarter than most and were really offended by what their birth mother did to their dad. Also, Dave couldn't leave the kids hurting and confused so he pretty much let them know the plan as soon as it was cooked. It wasn't like he was weaponizing them or anything, just letting them participate in the decision-making.

"We hoped the cameras caught not only evidence of adultery but something we could use to prove Jane was an unfit mother or that Peter was a threat to them. Dave was determined that the kids spend not one second longer in the evil pair's company than was necessary."

"So, the cameras were how Dave knew Jane was going to the park that first day?"

"Yes, we quickly got him in character - with practice we had gotten his dressing down to five minutes. Unlike his make-up which I did first thing every morning neither of us could bear for him to dress in the clothes just on the off-chance Jane went to the park. Then it was just a matter of escalating the hurt on the cheaters, especially Jane, to ratchet up the pressure. The pair going to Phuket was a godsend as it gave Dave a legitimate reason to tell Jane's parents the story while staying in character as a devastated drop-out. We wanted to severely put a dent in her support network."

"I meant to ask before, Wendy; did you and Dave have anything to do with what happened to Peter's kids?"

"No. That was all on Peter and the example he set for his kids and son-in-law. Dave is in two minds. That it proved the existence of God or was just the best bit of damn karma we ever saw."

"Your karma ran over my dogma, hey?"

They both chuckled as Pauline quoted Dave's favourite saying.

"So, whose idea was it to mess with the roll-a-door?"

"Buggered if I know. Dave and I don't work like that. Even at that early stage, we were so in tune with each other. We'd just brainstorm ideas and bounce off each other. At the end of the process, who can say whose idea it was? We like it that way."

"Still, the roll-a-door going up and down must have messed with Jane's head. How did you do it?"

"Dave's company was into electronics, and he'd been messing around with how to improve the security of digital signals. He said it was simple to hack both the re-programmed door controller and the replacement mechanism. That's what his trip was about at that time. He'd come up with an uncrackable remote system and was trying to sell it. The meeting he was returning from when Jane ambushed him was the last in a series."

Wendy paused to sip her wine.

"He initially intended to sell the concept but the company he was talking to, a multinational, wanted to buy Dave's company lock, stock, and barrel. That way they could put in an anti-compete clause in the contract. It was an extremely generous offer and Dave was excited to be going home to tell Jane they could retire in luxury on the proceeds. It certainly put all three kids into good universities and allowed me to chuck in my job and go back to NIDA to finish the course. It's a little overkill for a NIDA graduate to do all the costumes and make-up for the local amateur dramatic society's plays, but, what the hell, I enjoy it."

Both women smiled as they watched all the kids frolic in the pool. Bart's wife waved as she and her husband played with Dave and Wendy's most recent addition to their family, little one-year-old, Jen. Bart adored his tiny baby half-sister. Out of habit, Wendy's eyes searched for her other child, three-year-old Lachy. She thanked whatever gods were listening, every day, that she'd met her soul mate on what was for both of them the worst day of their lives.

"Where is Dave now?"

"He's attending a business awards do for the local chamber of industry. The manager of one of his outlets is receiving some sort of award for excellence and Dave wanted to show support. The guy used to be one of the park dwellers. A few of them did pretty well after Dave renewed their faith in society. The guy that Jane shot went back to university and became a lawyer. He calls in every few weeks for a beer after he does his shift at the mobile soup kitchen Dave sponsors. Lachy makes the poor bugger show him his bullet scar every single time he comes. He sometimes brings one or more of his grandkids as well."

"He doesn't blame Dave for what happened?"

"No, far from it. The plan was just for him to back off when Jane started waving the gun around, then act as a witness for a police statement. He admits he adlibbed for his friend and getting shot was all on him. In fact, he told me it was at that moment he realised he still wanted to live."

"When did you say Jane was due to be released?"

"We're expecting her to make parole at this year's review In June. She got five years for unlawful use of a firearm and three for malicious wounding. It's strange how none of the witnesses bore out her side of the story, and, of course, Dave just had to make a quick change behind a bush and wipe the bruises off before the police arrived."

"What do the kids think of her being released?"

"It's been such a long time, they could take it or leave it. Dave said he will support whatever relationship they want to have with her."

"What about your ex? You've never said anything about him. Did you come up with some fantastic form of revenge for him?"

"Maybe," said Wendy, her sly grin at odds with her coy words. "But that's a story for another day. Ask me in five years... when the statute of limitations is up."

Pauline gasped, staring at her friend.

"And the rich guy, Peter? What happened to him?"

"Well, we had enough evidence from recordings in the house to sue the crap out of him for the lies he and his lawyers told and the trouble they'd caused. He paid up gracefully and became a bit of a recluse after the incident. His son never fully recovered, and his daughter turned on him. I think he was totally disillusioned about women by Jane's attack at the end. Apparently, he stayed at the hospital all night and the next day with his son. His phone went flat at some point, that's why he never returned Jane's calls. The next thing he knew, the woman he loved launched a vicious attack on him. It's in the news every now and then when he sells off one of his businesses, for the cash, I suppose. Ironic, isn't it? He still has lots of money and that huge house, but nothing to live for."

"You call that ironic? What about Jane? Traded a comfortable life, a great husband, a beautiful family, and for what? A prison cell? Bet she regrets the hell out of throwing Dave away."

Pauline followed Wendy's gaze as she surveyed the opulent house on its manicured grounds. The kids laughing and splashing in the huge pool. Wendy sighed.

"One woman's trash is another's treasure, don't they say?"

THE END

Now lighten the fuck up!

This is a story about the bond formed between a little girl and a group of building workers. It's allegedly true and might help to confirm your belief in the goodness of people and that there is hope for the human race...

A young family moved into a house next door to an empty plot. One day, a gang of building workers turned up to start building on the plot.

The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next door and started talking with the workers.

She hung around and eventually the builders, all with hearts of gold, more or less adopted the little girl as a sort of project mascot. They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had tea and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important.

They even gave the child her very own hard hat and gloves, which thrilled her immensely.

At the end of the first week, the smiling builders presented her with a pay envelope - containing $10 in 50c coins. The little girl took her 'pay' home to her mother who suggested that they take the money to the bank the next day to open a savings account.

At the bank, the female cashier was tickled pink listening to the little girl telling her about her 'work' on the building site and the fact she had a 'pay packet'.

'You must have worked very hard to earn all this', said the cashier.

The little girl proudly replied, 'Yes, I worked every day with Steve and Wayne and Mike. We're building a big house.'

'My goodness gracious,' said the cashier, 'And will you be working on the house again next week?'

The child thought for a moment. Then she said seriously:

'I think so. Provided those wankers at Boral deliver the fucking bricks on time.'