Red Shadow

Turning her car engine off, the woman gazed out the window. From the driveway of her home she could just about catch a glimpse of the church steeple in the distance. The setting summer sun shone onto her long black hair causing it to shimmer; shades of auburn were hidden in its depths. Before exiting her sleek red Mercedes she paused, and took a deep breath in an attempt to banish any feeling of guilt. It was good to see the sun after such a dire day. The rain had subsided; the angry wind now just a mere breeze. As she approached her front door she lifted her big brown eyes from the floor and noticed that the house looked lonely and empty; its yellow Cotswold stone appeared dark and tear stained. Dropping her eyes back down to the floor she spotted her roses; they had previously neatly lined the garden path but due to the storm that had passed through earlier in the day, they were now destroyed. Their crimson petals had been tugged away from their home and lay strewn across the garden. She reached her front door and clamped her hand around the cold brass door handle. The door was stuck; struggling slightly she managed to aid it open. Stepping into the hallway, she felt uneasy, her legs felt numb, her head was experiencing an intense headache. She called out for her daughter, only to find her voice was strained and only a whisper emerged¦ "Sophie, She tried again, but still only managing to force out a mere whisper "Sophie. No response, only the sound of a repeated, muffled, distant church bell could be heard. Feeling isolated and alone, in the dark, quiet, cold house, the woman walked into the kitchen and flicked the light switch on. Nothing happened, she flicked it several more times hoping for some light. "What's going on? she said aloud, as though wanting a response from no-one. On the granite counter sat the dinner she had prepared earlier that day; a beef stew, waiting to be devoured by three hungry hard working mouths. Next to the pot of stew, sat the note she had written that morning. Guilt flew through her body, it read,
Hi my loves,
Really sorry but have to work late, I'm so sorry. Sophie, please forgive me for not being able to make your debut. I shall come tomorrow. I'll be back for dinner.
Lots of love and luck Mum

"¦and another car accident has caused disruption on the roads. Looks like this storms going to stay with us for awhile folks. Tune in for the lunchtime news for more details. The radio station had been reporting all morning on the disruption the storm was causing. A gentle hand touched her neck and he carefully pulled her long black shimmering hair back. She trembled with excitement, the storm outside was worsening; the lightening illuminated the dark grey sky. The couple fell into a comfortable and safe embrace. Sounding from the radio was a slow ballad, and its lyrics circulated around the woman's mind, "Life happened and death happens but in my arms I'm safe with you.'

The only remaining light was being shed from the kitchen window; soon she would be in complete darkness. The woman needed warmth she had never felt this cold. Walking out of the kitchen and into the hallway, she approached the bottom of her staircase, straining her eyes to see the first step, she reached out her arms in a blind attempt to find the banister, and cautiously step by step she guided her weary legs up the stairs. A cold breeze passed through her body, she shuddered, and the hairs on her arms stood on end, her body shaking, she entered the bedroom and walked towards her wardrobe. There it was, her favourite thick, black turtleneck, it never failed her even on the coldest of nights. As she pulled on her jumper, her wedding ring caught a loose thread and pulled away from her slender finger. She turned the turtleneck inside out hoping to find the ring clinging to the jumper, it wasn't there. She fell to her knees. It must have fallen, she scoured the floor, rubbing her hands through the green carpet, straining her eyes as visibility was poor, the ring was no where to be found. With great effort she pushed herself up from the floor. The slightest move made her feel like she could break into a thousand pieces.

The man and the girl hadn't spoken for over an hour, they didn't need to. They were sitting there, patiently. The man was staring at his watch tapping his finger on its face, in time with the second hand. "Not long, not long now.

Warmth washed over her. Willingly she allowed herself to be drawn into another intimate embrace. The hand that had been touching her shoulder now gently caressed her entire body not missing an inch of her delicate porcelain skin. Their lips close; they spoke silence but told a dark secret. Together they fell into the burgundy satin sheets.

It couldn't be. It was. The red light from the alarm clock read 21:00. "Oh no, I have to leave, I've missed the play, they might be home already, what am I going to tell them? They are going to know, they're already suspicious. A flicker of irritation seemed to flash across her lover's face, on second glance the flicker of irritation had transformed into an unconvincing smile. There was no time to worry about that. She leapt from the bed, her foot tangled in the sheets, lost her balance and fell with a thud to the floor. On the way down, she banged her head on the bedside table. Her lover leant over the side of the bed and gently touched her cut, she screamed in agony. His fingers felt warm and wet, looking down he saw they were covered in her blood. Running to the bathroom he grabbed a towel and a damp cloth and hurried back to his lover. The bedroom was empty, her clothes gone. He called out for her.

The woman, unaware of the extent of her injury had fled. She needed to get home before they did. She needed to shower.

Something bright caught his eye, gleaming on the bedroom floor the setting summer sun was casting its last rays of light through his bedroom window and was shining on a small silver object, he bent down to get a closer look, reaching out his blood stained hand he shouted out "Honey, you've dropped your ring . He heard the front door slam. In haste he threw on his jeans and frantically chased after her. As he reached the front door her red sports car was tearing out the drive.

Grabbing the keys to his silver Volkswagen he ran out into the driveway and jumped into it, throwing the car into reverse he chased after her. The distance between the two racing cars was decreasing by the second, suddenly a black car pulled out of lay by, causing him to swerve, to avoid a head on collision. The man behind the wheel was driving recklessly at a ridiculously dangerous speed.

The thick black turtleneck was not keeping her warm. She gave up the search for the missing ring. The woman heard the door slam downstairs, they were home, her adrenaline started to pump hard through her body, her heart racing. She could hear their voices. Everything would be okay now. She would end the affair. They never need know. Her husband's voice was speaking, "Well, that takes care of that and it will just look like an accident. She could hear her daughter laughing. The woman's headache was worsening. Looking in the mirror she tried to see how bad her head was after knocking it on the bedside table. It wasn't bad, it had stopped bleeding; in fact on closer inspection she couldn't see anything. There was no sign of the accident.

The woman caught sight of her lover's car in her rear-view mirror. She wondered what he wanted. Glancing down at her watch she knew she should pull over but didn't have time. Thoughts of her daughter were running through her mind. Her daughter's voice was ringing in her ears. "Mum, how could you? How could you miss my play? You know how hard I've worked for this? All Sophie had wanted was her mother to be sat in the front row of the audience watching her proudly. The realisation of her actions hit her like a hard slap in the face. A tear rolled down her face, it rested momentarily on her chin, and as if in slow motion, fell from her face and down to the floor. Her vision blurred. Looking again in her rear-view mirror she now saw a second car. It was approaching at tremendous speeds. It looked familiar. More tears were falling from her eyes. The two cars were dangerously close, taking one hand off the steering wheel to wipe away her tears. There was a sudden jolt, her face smashed into the windscreen, a tremendous sound of metal crashing against a tree, the noise deafening, she felt warm liquid running down her face.