My love

TW: Sexual harassment, Murder.

Sarah filled her lungs. The air here was clearer than any she’d ever tasted. She couldn’t have chosen a better place for a fresh start. She dawdled along the garden path, bluebells and buttercups sprang from the grass on either side, filling the air with their sweet perfume. The sun shone and bees were busy at work. Her life had become a biscuit tin scene. She got a great deal on her little cottage, it needed some work, but Sarah could just feel the building had good bones, after all it had stood there for a few hundred years already. Darren would never find her here. She got to work clearing cobwebs and unpacking the necessities for the first night in her new home. Tomorrow she would start her new job as a cook at the local café, the regular money would give her the means to follow her true passion, music.

At eight thirty Sarah rolled out of bed. Dodgy pipework resulted in muddy looking water and a rough start to the morning, but she’d have to get it seen too later or she was going to be late. Not a good look on her first day. As it turns out everything she’d heard about living in a small village was true. Everybody knew everybody and the new arrival was the hot gossip. She spent more time chatting with local customers than she did learning the menu. The manager, Aaron was lovely though and even offered to take a look at the rusted plumbing after work.

“So, it was the upstairs bathroom?”

“Yea,” Sarah led him to the most troublesome sink “it’s this one. The water’s just muddy looking. A cracked pipe somewhere maybe?”

Aaron reappeared from under the sink, “You could be right, to be honest I know nothing about plumbing,” He wiped his hands with a towel as he took two steps towards Sarah.

“Oh, then why did you?”

“Oh, come on, you know why,” two more steps closer he was less than an arm’s length away, “The way you’ve been flirting and smiling at me all day.”

“I wasn’t.”

He held up a finger to silence her, “and then I come over to ‘check your plumbing,’ you knew exactly what that meant.” He reached around her and grabbed the doorknob that her hand had been searching for behind her back. “I’ve met plenty of women like you, I know exactly what you’re after.”

He was inches from her face now, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. His other arm raised to rest on the door next to her head.

“You know – oof!”

Sarah had brought her knee hurtling up between his legs, he doubled over, and she hastily grabbed the doorknob, fleeing the house she kept running, and running, and running until she was doubled over, panting, with no idea where she was. She collapsed onto the wet grass and vomited. Why did she attract these types of men? Was he right? Was she flirting? Maybe she smiled a little too much? Her mind was flooded with questions of self-doubt. Maybe she overreacted? She splashed her face in a stream nearby. The cold water soothed her puffy eyes. Maybe she should go back and check he’s ok?

By the time she had found her way back to the cottage it was empty, the front door was still hanging open and all the lights were still on. It took some doing but Sarah eventually managed to light a fire. However, even the soothing red glow and sweet smell of wood smoke could not lift the tense atmosphere that now hung in her new home. Not really wanting to go upstairs, she had an uncomfortable and uneasy, but toasty, night in the armchair by the fire. The bathroom sink still spat brown water, so she brushed her teeth in the kitchen, chugged a coffee and made her way to work. She’d just talk to him, that’s all. Explain that she’s sorry for her violent outburst but that she wasn’t flirting, just being friendly and inwardly pray that he didn’t fire her. She knocked on the office door. No answer. She pushed it open. The room was empty. Maybe he was late? Sarah managed remarkably well running the place on her own most of the day. Around two pm an older, grey haired lady with dirt under her nails and the smell of roses on her clothes entered the café. Sarah recognised her from her interview as Marge, the owner.

“You can put those down dearie, we’ll be closing early today.”

Sarah placed the plates she had been carrying down on the counter and took the seat marge was gesturing too.

“Is this about Aaron, because.”

“It is I’m afraid,” Sarah shifted in her seat. She knew it, she was about to be fired, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” Here it comes, “but Aaron’s dead.”

“What?”

Marge reached across the table and placed a leathery hand on top of Sarah’s.

“I’m afraid so dear. He got himself into a car accident late last night, it looks like he fell asleep at the wheel.” She paused and shook her head, “Now I know you’ve only been here a couple of days, but I need someone to run this place and I don’t have anyone else. How would you like to be manager? I’d show you the ropes myself of course.”

Sarah was stunned. She sat across from Marge, her mouth slightly open and blinking more than was normal.

“Dear?”

“Hmm, sorry.” She shook her head clear, “Sorry. Yes, sure, I’ll manage the place.”

“Perfect, then let’s get closed up.”

Marge rose from her seat and grabbed a cloth from behind the counter. Within a couple of hours with this no-nonsense lady, Sarah knew what she needed to for the day to day running. Marge promised she’d teach her the rest along the way and would hire her some help in the kitchen asap.

Back at her cottage, in her cosy chair by the fire, Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all her fault. If she hadn’t reacted the way she did? Then again how could him falling asleep at the wheel be her fault? She drifted into an uneasy sleep, her dreams tortured her with visions of her sat in a blue sedan, hypnotising Aaron to sleep and watching him drift, gradually off the road, towards a looming great oak.

The café was busier the next few days than it had previously been. Every customer stopping to offer each other, and Sarah, their condolences. It was exhausting. By the time she arrived home, all she wanted was her comfy chair and a glass of wine. When she stepped into her living room, she was bemused to find a roaring fire and glass of wine already waiting for her.

“What the?”

She spun around as the door creaked shut behind her to reveal Darren. The flickering light only added to his menacing expression.

“Got yourself another boyfriend already? I always knew you were a whore.” He pulled his right arm from behind his back to reveal Sarah’s own kitchen knife. She backed away but there was nowhere to go. “Who is he?”

“There isn’t anyone, Darren, I swear.”

“Liar!” She flinched as the accusation was more spat than shouted. “Who else would have the fire lit and a glass poured for when you get home from work?”

“Wha, I thought you?” Sarah froze. Her eyes widened and all colour drained from her face.

“What? If you think.” Darren looked down as the blade he was just holding peeked through the front of his shirt. Blood trickled from his lips as he crashed to his knees and landed face down on the floor. Behind him a small boy, winked, flickered and disappeared.”

The police thought she was crazy. Of course they thought she was crazy. She was pretty sure she was losing her mind herself But they at least seemed to have decided that whatever had happened, had been self-defence. The air was thick and stuffy when she arrived back at her cottage. A fire still roared in the heart of the home and a glass of wine still sat, waiting, next to her favourite chair. In the chair opposite however sat that same boy. As she stepped into the room the door slammed shut behind her.

“Sit my love. You’ve had a long day.”

Her shaking legs barely carried her to the chair. She sat, not taking her eyes off the child. His skin was pale, almost translucent, blood spattered his shorts and shirt. He nodded towards the glass of wine, indicating she should drink. She instinctively obliged.

“You know I only did this for you, my love.” The boy glanced at the crimson stain in the carpet. He flickered and was now knelt beside her. His icy hand held her own, “He had it coming. They both did.”

Sarah tried not to flinch at the realisation, or at the grin spread across the child’s face.

“Aaron?”

“Yes, my love, for you. Only for you. So we can be together.” He stood and brushed his cool fingers against her cheek. “Not long now, and we will be together, forever.”

Sarah’s eyes flicked momentarily to the door, wondering if she could make it.

“Oh no my love.” He nodded towards the half empty wine glass in her hand. “It is already done.”