Megan
The Ultimate Sacrifice
‘Are you all right to get that, Megan? Or does you want me to come and answer it?’
‘No, I’m fine. It might be Sally calling from work. I told her to ring if anything cropped up. With me taking leave unexpected, I’ve left things in the air a bit.’
Jack had come out of his office, which was a grand title for the little room where he kept all the books and stuff to do with his business. Not that he tackled such things, but sometimes he went in there as other men might go into a shed. His own little den, as it were. He needed one at the moment, she knew that. Somewhere he could cry a few private tears.
He stood watching her, no doubt curious as to who it was on the phone, even though he’d been reluctant to answer it himself.
‘Sarah! Hello, love. Eeh, what’s wrong? Sarah? What is it? Is it Billy?’
The front door opened. ‘Oh, here’s Billy now.’
A distraught Sarah begged Megan not to let Billy know it was her calling. Unsure how to cover up, or to let Jack know not to say it was Sarah, she turned her back on the front door and, with what she hoped wasn’t too much hesitation, changed her voice and sent a grave look Jack’s way. Her brain worked faster than she’d ever known it to as she said, ‘No, like I were just saying, I didn’t expect to see him today, but it’s a lovely surprise to have him come over. It’ll do Jack good an’ all. He could do with some company to take his mind off things. How’s Harry, love? Have you been back to the hospital?’
The agony of listening to Sarah’s sobs whilst keeping up this pretence nearly undid Megan. But she knew she had to, and knew she’d to think of a way to get to Sarah an’ all. Fears assaulted her, blocking her thoughts, but then an idea came to her and she voiced it as if speaking to Hattie. ‘Aye, that’ll be fine. No, it’s no trouble. Yes, I know. But don’t worry; knowing my menfolk, they’d rather have time without me. I’ll set off now. I should be with you in an hour. No, we hadn’t planned owt. Sarah and Billy didn’t want to come to dinner, so we were going to have a light supper later.’ Warming to her theme, she almost believed it herself. ‘No, honest, love. None of us feel like eating much, anyroad. Just let me greet Billy. Poor lad gets home after six weeks away and his mam stands chatting to folk she could talk to anytime. See you in a while, eh?’
Jack looked at her, a question puzzling his face. Returning the receiver to its cradle, Megan ignored him and put her arms out to Billy. ‘By, it’s grand to see you, son, and you’ll be a tonic for your Uncle Jack. He were a bit down just before you came.’
Billy’s face held a tinge of red high on his cheekbones. His expression had its customary sour look, and he reluctantly allowed her to kiss his cheek. Without giving any of them time to react, Megan grabbed her coat from the stand next to her. ‘Look, I have to dash.’
Crossing her fingers as she piled yet another lie onto the others, she added, ‘It appears Sally’s stranded. She can’t get that damn back door of the shop to lock. I’m the only one who seems able to do it! The others have all left, and Hattie can’t go to help her as she’s just leaving to visit Harry.’ She’d reached the door when the thought came to her that she’d said to the imaginary Hattie that she would see her in a while. ‘Once I’ve done that, Hattie asked if I’d come along to the hospital with Sally, and I said I would. You two have a good natter. Sarah won’t be expecting you back that soon, will she, Billy?’
Billy grunted at this and shrugged his shoulders. His eyes bored into her. Megan’s nerves clenched in fear. Please, God, let me get to Sarah and help her before Billy decides to return home. She was convinced he’d done something terrible to the poor lass.
Jack crossed over towards her, blocking Billy from her view. He spoke over his shoulder to Billy. ‘Make yourself comfortable, son. I’ll see as your mam’s car’s all right. There’s a sharp frost in the air.’ With his voice normal, but his face still questioning her, he opened the door for her. Once outside, he pulled the door closed behind them. ‘What’s going on, love? That weren’t Hattie, were it?’
‘No. Oh, Jack, it were Sarah.’
Jack’s arms enclosed her. Megan clung onto him, drinking in his comfort and wanting to stay locked in his embrace and not have to face the awfulness of whatever Sarah was going through. Painful memories shuddered through her. ‘I have to go to her, Jack. She were sobbing and begged me not to let Billy know she’d rung, but I know nothing more, as I had to talk over her and come up with what you heard. D’yer reckon as Billy knows it were her?’
‘Naw, he couldn’t. I had no idea and I even heard you say “hello” to her. You had me right confused. Just get off, love, and do what you can. I’ll keep Billy here till you phone. I feel like strangling him, but if it turns out it’s just a tiff that’s upset Sarah, she won’t thank me and I’d end up making things worse.’
Megan agreed with this, though she’d an idea it wasn’t a tiff. Not from what she’d heard. ‘I’ll contact you as soon as I can, love. Just so you know what’s happening.’
Jack tightened his grip on her.
The trepidation that had been with Megan all day coiled deeper into her. ‘Oh, Jack, I love you. Can you ever forgive me?’
‘What for, lass? Thou’s done nowt.’
‘I have. I should’ve done more to prevent them marrying. I – I suspected Sarah was doing it out of fear, and now I know for certain she were. And I put that fear in her path, as I were the one as fought for Billy’s release.’
‘You did what any mam would do. Now I’ll clear your windscreen and crank your engine for you. You have to hurry to Sarah, me little lass. You have to see as she is all right.’
‘I love you, Jack Fellam.’
Once the engine jumped into life, spewing fumes from its exhaust and curling white billows of smoke into the frosty air, Jack took hold of her again. Megan clung to him, but as she did so, she saw the curtain move and knew Billy was watching them. Her blood ran cold through her veins.
‘Well, lad, that were unexpected. One minute me and your mam are all settled for a quiet night, and the next she’s gone out and you’re here. I must say as I’m reet surprised to see you. Your mam said as you weren’t up to coming round. Anyroad, it’s a good surprise. Come on through. Like always, there’ll be a kettle on the boil. We’ll have a pot of tea; it’s near on freezing out there.’
Billy followed Jack into the kitchen with an uneasy mind. Something wasn’t right. Jack had been mystified when the caller had turned out to be that Hattie. And he had a good idea why. He’d heard more than his mam had thought. Why would she say to Hattie, ‘Is it Billy?’
Anger flared in him. Sarah – the bloody bitch! She’d telephoned his mam when he’d told her not to tell them. But he was stuck now. He’d need all the cunning he had used in that institution. By, I had them fooled on many occasions.
‘I can’t stay, Uncle Jack. I were tired, but I thought better of not coming to see you both. I wanted to say as I’m sorry about Issy. I know as it must have hit you and Mam hard.’
‘Aye, it has. Ta, lad, that’s reet kind of you. But take a minute to rest up. We’ve had a new foal delivered in the last hour and I’ve to go out to the stables. I thought you might come and take a look with me?’
‘I would, but I promised Sarah I wouldn’t be long. She wanted to come, but she’s all in. Babby seems to be knocking her about. She couldn’t stop being sick earlier, so I don’t want to leave her for long. I just couldn’t not come over to give you me condolences.’
‘Well, what’re you up to tomorrow, then? I’m up for a bit of shooting, if you are. There’s not much around, but we might get lucky. Or we could just do some target practice – you used to like that when you were a lad.’
‘Aye, I’m good at it an’ all. You’d not stand a chance at beating me. I passed that part of me training easy.’ A thought came to him that made the sweat stand out on him. It gave him the solution he needed. He’d seen his Uncle Jack’s guns hanging on the wall of the storeroom, next to various types of saddles and stirrups and that kind of stuff, and above them on a shelf were boxes of ammunition.
Excitement tingled through him and shook his body. Yes, it was the only way out; he couldn’t live, knowing that the minute his back was turned she’d be off with that Richard.
‘Are you all right, son? Is everything reet with Sarah and you?’
For a moment he couldn’t answer. A voice in his head screamed at a pitch that had him cringing against it. It tore painfully across his forehead. He wanted to rip it out of him, but he had to fight to keep calm. If he didn’t, he’d not be able to carry out what the voice demanded. And he had to do that. It was the only way to rid himself of it.
Breathing in deeply, he managed to reply, ‘No, I have one of me headaches. You know how bad they get. I’ll have to get home and lie down for a bit.’
‘Why not go into the posh parlour? There’s that comfy sofa you could lie on, and I could ring Sarah and tell her.’
‘No, I have to go.’ It was taking him over. The intensity of it was like one of them explosions they had mocked up during training. Over and over he could hear, Kill them . . . kill them both. And he answered the thought, as understanding came to him. Yes. Yes, that’s it! And he knew that by doing as the voice said he would find peace, his final peace. It was them – Sarah and his mam. They had done all of this to him, and he had to do them in. He had to.
‘Billy. Billy, lad . . . Come on, now.’
With these concerned words, the heat cleared. A strange peace descended, giving Billy the knowledge of what he had to do. He needed to get out of here, find a gun and get on his way. To do that, he’d to sort out his Uncle Jack, and there was only one way. His eyes rested on the bronze statue of a woman and child standing on a shelf under an oval mirror – a fancy thing, too fancy for the likes of his mam. But then she considered herself something. Well, in this instance she’d provided him with his means of escape.
He had to look like he was playing along, then he could catch his Uncle Jack unawares. ‘Thou knows, I think as I will have that pot of tea.’
‘That’s good, lad. Eeh, them pains have plagued you all your life. Thank goodness they’ve gone for now. How they let you through the medical, with your condition, beggars belief. Anyroad, let’s go into the kitchen then.’
As Jack turned to lead the way, it took only a moment for Billy to curl his fingers around his chosen weapon. The resulting thud had a sickening note to it, and it didn’t sit right with him to see this man he loved, beyond any, buckle and fall. But he’d to focus. He had a job to do.
The gun in his hand had a magnificent feel – clean-cut lines, two barrels, long and sleek, a lovingly carved stock and a chamber holding the bullets. Two, that’s all he’d need, but he had more in his pocket and had taken only seconds to load it. He held it in readiness across his chest, his finger resting on the trigger. His pace quickened when he knew he was out of sight. His head burned again, giving him the message that he was right to do what he intended. They must die.
His ma had had it coming for a long time. He hated her. She hadn’t protected him from his dad’s brutal ways. She’d driven his dad to hate Jack, and driven himself to kill his dad to protect Jack. But he understood his dad now, because Sarah was doing the same thing: messing around. And with that arsehole – the man he despised more than any other, and had always done. He hated Richard’s fucking guts. One day he’d do for him as well. Aye, one day. The thought warmed him; it’d give him something to live for after Sarah had gone.
The cottage came into view. Mam’s car stood outside. Billy quickened his pace. The beads of sweat ran down his forehead and dripped off his brow, and some found their way into his open mouth and salted his tongue. The blinding pain was etched into him. His mind recalled the first time that pain had come to him, the exquisite sensation of it weeping from him once the thick branch smashed into that fat sod Bella’s head. Her ugly, flat face swam before his eyes, then his dad’s image came to him, and he heard the satisfying crunch as he squelched his dad’s head to a pulp. The memory took some of the pain from the heat and increased the sense of facing his most magnificent moment; and with that came a clear knowledge of how he’d kill his mam and Sarah.
Taking his finger from the trigger, he let his hand glide along the polished stock of the gun until he held the cold steel of the double barrel. Gripping it with both hands, he sliced the air as if it were a sword. Adrenaline pumped around him. He’d never been so honed, felt so in tune with himself. His body had reached the higher level of his mind. Every sinew of him knew what part it had to play.
Entering the cottage yard brought the red mist back into him, almost as though it was a sponge soaking up his conscious thoughts, blocking his ability to think straight. He hadn’t wanted this – not to be cut off by the red fog from the act of killing them.
His heart pounded in time with every step he took. Nothing about him wanted to hesitate, to think again. The redness commanded him, telling him that peace would come with his actions. As before, it would sear the feeling – the pleasure – onto his very soul. He’d remember it forever.
He moved with stealth. He could hear them; could hear Sarah’s sobbing voice. ‘I know, Aunt Megan, I know, but I feel me guilt. I love Richard beyond words, but I promised meself to Billy. I couldn’t let him down. Oh, I’ve made such a mess of things and—’
The scream rose from deep in the pit of his bowel, surging the redness to the forefront of his brain and catapulting him into the room. Their shock gave their ugly gapes the likeness of the devil incarnate. His mam cowered beneath him – her terror-filled eyes reflected the blood-red that was swimming around his brain. Then he heard the squelching crunch as the butt of the gun smashed into her face.
Now the heat enclosed him. It comforted him, gave him more strength, congratulated him and urged him on. His mam’s face had gone, and now her head split open and gushed blood all over him as his second blow finished her off. Spittle filled his mouth, thrill zinging through his veins. Never had he felt more alive. He turned towards Sarah. No sound came from her. She had slumped forward, her breasts squashed into rounded mounds meeting in a deep crevice. He would torture her, make her suffer like she’d made him suffer.
Sliding his hand along the barrel, he grabbed the stock. Sticky blood coated his fingers before they curled around the trigger. Pointing the gun at Sarah’s head didn’t get any reaction from her. Still she did not utter a sound, or close her gaping mouth. Had he ever thought her beautiful? He stuck the barrel into her mouth. ‘You bitch! You’ve betrayed me.’
Her eyes widened, the look in them changing from one of horror to sheer terror. He remembered the gutting knife in his belt. He’d taken it from the shelf at the last minute. He whipped it from its sheath. The skin of her breast indented as he pressed the tip into it. A laugh gurgled up from his belly. This was the best time of his life – better than killing the bitch at his feet; better than smashing his dad; better than when he’d killed Bella.
Yes, that’s who Sarah reminded him of at this moment. He’d tell her: ‘You look as ugly as that fat sod of a sister you had. Remember her?’ His own laugh interrupted him again. He let it release, then looked back at her. He wanted to taunt her some more, but his laughter wouldn’t stop. It hurt as it rebounded back at him. He cringed against it, hearing it echo around the room. He wanted to control it, but he couldn’t. A weakness took him. He wanted to hit out at the image of his own face as it stared back at him from the mirror on the wall, hideous and twisted in mirth. But before he could, a great force pushed him and his body smashed into the wall. The laughter stopped, and he was crying.
Through his tears he saw the twisted and agonized face of his Uncle Jack and heard his thick holler, ‘No! No!’
The sight of this man – the only good thing in his life – crumbling to the ground and crawling like an injured animal towards his mam tortured Billy’s very soul and wrenched from him the realization that his beloved Uncle Jack hated him. No, I can’t take that. Don’t, don’t hate me – not you, not you! Billy’s hand reached out. He needed something to hold onto. The feel of polished wood sent a message through him. Now the cold steel of the barrel showed him clearly what he must do.
Through an excruciating haze of pain, Jack saw the glint of the barrel. He felt no fear; all emotion had frozen inside him. A crack resounded around the room and bounced off the walls. Sarah’s scream reverberated with it and then died, turning into a helpless wail. Blood splattered Jack’s face and ran along the floor towards him. Billy’s hideous eyes stared at him. No face – just staring, glassy eyes.
He heard his own wailing join Sarah’s and felt his body slump, leaving him with nothing inside him. His arm reached out and held the still-warm body of his Megan, and then his mind closed down. A deep black fog swirled inside his head and took him into nothingness.