Amy and Lucy (part 3)

Amy Druze

I found myself flurrying around Harry as soon as I got home, despite the bruise that had developed around the cut on my cheek. I knew that it was my fault that he had hit me. I had left him vulnerable, stolen his car and ran away without letting him know so he worried.
Diane came for dinner the day after I returned and I cooked a three-course meal with homemade tomato soup, smoked salmon and homemade meringue for dessert.
‘Diane, it’s nice to see you.’ I opened the front door to a stunningly blonde woman wearing a pencil skirt which fitted perfectly over her slender hips and shapely bottom and a blouse which buttoned low to show her cleavage. Her hair was waving gently away from her face and her brown eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes. She leant forward to kiss my cheeks and I was overcome with a painfully familiar scent. Soft Musk; our dead mother’s scent. A wave of nausea hit me and I stepped aside, watching my sister embrace my husband as if I was not in the room.
Harry hugged her close, his hands sliding over her bottom and breasts and her hand clutching his penis through the fabric. I felt physically sick. If I hadn’t run away, then they would not act like this, so it was my fault. I had pushed my husband into the arms of my sister.
They sat at the table; Harry at the head with Diane on his left as I fetched the first course. They both slurped it appreciatively and I felt a bubble of hope well up in my chest until I saw Harry’s hand disappear under the table and Diane jump slightly, a sexy look in her eye as she smiled at Harry. The bubble burst as if it were soap and was pricked by a needle.
I flurried away the plates and prepared the second course. Leaning on the counters, I noticed the mirror splash back above the cooker. Staring at it, I could see Harry and Diane kissing, his hand disappearing up her skirt and a fire of hate swelled up inside my chest. Grabbing the food, I walked into the dining room in time to see Diane’s head fall back blissfully as Harry’s hand reappeared from under the table. He wiped his hands on the napkin. Succulent salmon with feta cheese and sprigs of thyme were presented on white plates in front of my sister and husband. They both took one bite and pushed their plates away, occupying themselves with fondles above and below the table. I closed my eyes, wanting the image to disappear but it was burned on to my eyelids. I took the plates into the kitchen and rested my head on the cupboard above the stove.
My heart pounded against my rib cage and my breathing quickened. It’s my fault that Harry was driven into bed with Diane. I wasn’t a good enough wife for and to him; I didn’t cook the best meals or keep the house that tidy. There was a knock in the door and Diane walked in, smoothing her skirt and smiling innocently,
‘Your dinner was fantastic muffin, but I must get back to my hotel. They won’t let me back in if I’m late. It takes me at least an hour to get there so I’ll have to leave now.’
‘Don’t be silly. You can’t drive back in the dark, why don’t you stay here?’ I spun around and Harry was standing by the door. I was shocked by both his invitation and his location. He had never been into the kitchen in the seven years we had lived here. Diane smiled and agreed without questioning his offer.
‘Amy, show her into the spare room, would you? And make up the bed and put fresh towels on the dresser and turn on the water heater in the en suite so she can have a shower in the morning. I have some work to do; I’ll be in my study.’ He turned and placed a hand on the swing door to leave.
‘But I’m sleeping in the spare room, where will I sleep?’ He turned around, a menacing glint in his eye.
‘You’ll have to sleep on the sofa. You need to be up to cook us breakfast. I’m leaving at seven so I want my breakfast ready at half past six.’ He walked through the swing door, leaving me to stare at it flapping uselessly. I turned back to my sister, her face set in a victorious smile.
‘I’ll show you to your room then, shall I?’ I forced a smile onto my face and showed Diane to the room I had been sleeping in for the past six years. Picking fresh towels out of the cupboard, I lay them on the dresser, then picked out a clean, white bedsheet, unfolding it and flapping it out. Diane grabbed the opposite side and helped tuck it under the mattress.
‘Muffin, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Harry’s so persuasive and he’s so sexy.’
‘I know.’ I snapped. ‘He’s my husband. You hate Harry! You have done since we first got together. You always said he was too for me and that he’ll never be able to stay faithful to me because women are throwing themselves at him all the time. I never thought that my own sister would be one of those women.’
I thought she would have apologised, but she surprised me.
‘I’m not finishing with him Amy. You’re marriage was over before it even started. Did you really think that you would be able to keep him happy with that body? You’re nauseating, he told me that himself. I was always the favourite out of the family. Harry settled for you because he knew it would be a challenge to get me, and he needed someone to be his doormat.’ Her poisonous words stabbed my heart, making my blood boil. ‘You rally around him like a stupid groupie, cooking him food and taking his beatings. He hits you because you won’t go away. You make him look like an idiot at the business meals, that’s why he asks me to go with him instead.’
I tucked the sheet under the mattress and grabbed a pillow to shove it into its case.
‘He’s told his colleagues that you’re dead.’ My hands froze; the pillow half in its case; my heart pounding. I stared at the pillow and carried on stuffing it in the pillowcase. I stood next to Diane, my eyes as soft as I could make them and smiled at her.
Clutching the pillow, I pushed her against the wardrobe, smoothing it over her face. She clutched my hands, trying to pull them away. My face stayed neutral as her hands began to go limp. They fell to her sides and her legs gave way, making her collapse to the floor. I followed her down with my hands still pushing the pillow against her face. I picked her up as best I could and placed her on the bed, positioning her to look like she was asleep and stripped off her skirt and blouse which had teased me all night. Pulling her disgusting, matching thong and bra off, I threw the duvet over her lifeless body.
I walked to the door and looked back. She was facing the door, her face had a blue tinge to it and her lips were slightly parted. I calmly walked downstairs towards Harry’s office.
I felt as if nothing could harm me and for once in my life, I wasn’t scared. I knock on the door to his study. I opened the door and stood bravely with my chin up and my legs steady.
‘What the hell do you want? I’m talking to you Amy!’
‘I’m leaving you Harry; you can’t stop me. Oh and Diane’s waiting for you upstairs. She’s undressed already by the look of it. She told me to tell you to get stuck in. Goodbye Harry. I’m taking the car, selling the house and transferring all the money in our joint account to my personal account. Try and stop me and I’ll have you arrested for assault and rape.’ I turned away and walked out.
My heart pounded and my knees knocked together as I stumbled up to our bedroom to pack a case. I heard Harry storm up the stairs and open the door where Diane was sleeping. I pressed my ear against the wall which separated the two rooms and heard Harry stripping and talking to Diane. A few seconds later, I heard Harry moan as he entered Diane’s dead corpse.