Mischief

I shouldn’t have done it, I know, but I was bored and the mischievous spirit overtook me. Daddy always said it would get me into trouble one day. 

‘I NO YOUR FUCKEN MY GIRL STAY AWAY FROM HER OR ILL FUCK YOU UP,’ the text said. Obviously, ‘sorry, you have the wrong number,’ would have been the honest and sensible response. I even started typing it, but then the mischief mist came down and I deleted it.

‘Yeah, Im fucken her. She dam hot. Wot a ass. She say she need a real man to satisfy her.’ 

I re-read it, wondering if the grammar was bad enough, then pressed ‘send’, giggling like a schoolgirl. I watch a lot of films. Maybe they have warped my brain.

“Darling, are you ready yet? What are you doing?” Mark called from the hall downstairs. 

“Just coming,” I called, hurriedly finishing my make-up. I was just touching up my lipstick when my phone buzzed. 

‘YOUR FUCKEN DEAD MAN NO JOKE IM GONNA KILL YOU’.

I suddenly got scared. Could someone track me down through my mobile? Surely not. That only happened in films with MI5 or the CIA. This person didn’t sound like he was a spy. I typed back.

‘Like to see you try, motherfucker. You come near me and I will fuck you up so bad you’re own mama won’t know you.’ I was laughing so much I had to stop for a minute, before adding: ‘Pussy’ and pressing ‘send’. 

“What’s so funny?” Mark asked as I came down the stairs. 

“Oh nothing,” I told him. “Just something that Gladys said at the WI yesterday.” I didn’t want to tell him; he would not approve at all. He’s very sensible, always has been. It’s one of the reasons I still love him after so many years. I adjusted his tie and smiled at him. 

In the car, I was only half listening to Mark griping about weeds in the garden when the phone buzzed again.

‘YOU GONNA GET YOUR FUCKEN BALLS CUT OFF IM GONNA MAKE YOU EAT THEM’

I laughed. Mark glanced over. 

“What going on there? What are you up to?” He leaned over to try and see the phone but I turned it away from him.

‘Keep your eyes on the road, sweetheart. We don’t want to crash. It’s just Gladys being funny. You know what she’s like.”

Starbucks was crowded and I left Mark to order me a cappuccino and find a table and sneaked off to the loo with my phone. 

‘Good luck finding me, dickhead xxx.’ I paused. Should I send it? Had I gone too far? But what the heck? At my age you have to get your fun where you can. ‘Send’. I went back to the table, trying not to smile. 

The phone started ringing as I put it down on the table. I stared at the familiar number on the screen. 

“What is it, love?” Mark looked worried. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

I bit my lip. Mark reached across and picked the phone up. “Who is it?” he asked. “What’s going on, love?”

“No way? What the fuck?” A young man stood over Mark, staring down at him incredulously, a phone in his hand. He pressed a button and my phone stopped ringing. 

He pressed another button and Mark looked down, confused, as my phone rang again in his hand. “You old motherfucker,” the man said, shaking his head. He leaned over and took hold of Mark by his lapels. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Mark cried as he was lifted out of his seat. The man pulled something out of his pocket. I froze, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as he held the knife to Mark’s throat. Mark gave a strange gurgle and grabbed at his chest , his face turning purple.

The young man staggered under Mark’s sudden dead weight and they sank to the floor together, Mark underneath.

I moved then, out of my seat, swiping the young man out of the way so I could get to Mark. I knelt over him calling his name, gripping his hand. His eyes gazed sightlessly past me. I screamed, something about an ambulance, then I looked round. 

The young man sprawled on the floor behind me, leaning against a chair, his legs out in front of him. His hand went to the knife in his neck, blood running thick around it. His eyes bulged in surprise, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His eyes closed and he slumped to the side. 

Around me people stood and stared. Someone started screaming.