The free promotion of my collection of short stories, Sting In The Tail And Other Stories ends at approximately 12 pm on Friday 6 December. To download Sting In The Tail free please visit http://www.amazon.co.uk/K.-Morris/e/B00CEECWHY/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 (UK), or http://www.amazon.com/K.-Morris/e/B00CEECWHY/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 (USA).
I was delighted to receive the following 4 star review of my collection of short stories, Sting In The Tail And Other Stories, on Amazon
“Several short, gritty tales from the dark side – no, not horror or star wars type dark side, but the dark side of humanity where self interest holds sway”. For the review please visit http://www.amazon.com/review/RT7UWA5FCFNM4/ref=cm_cr_dp_title?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00DFK6R54&channel=detail-glance&nodeID=133140011&store=digital-text.
Sting In The Tail will be available free in the Kindle store from Monday 2 December until Friday 6 December.
I must have been out of my tiny mind to do it. It was totally illogical and goes slap bang against my own interest.
I’ve cleaned for the Browns for just over 10 years. They have a lovely 4 bedroom house with a big garden, in fact its more like a field. I wish I could afford a place like that! The Browns certainly have money. He does something in the city, a stockbroker I think and she works as a solicitor. Lots of couples with that kind of money look down their noses at people like me. We are lower than dirt, the little woman who cleans up their mess. The Browns aren’t like that. £10 an hour which is well above the minimum wage and always a Christmas hamper and generous bonus come the festive season. They never forget my birthday either. A big card and something in it. Such lovely people I can’t think what possessed me to do it.
They have such beautiful things. You could write what I know about antiques on the back of a postage stamp but that grandfather clock in the wooden case, oak I think it was was beautiful. I loved the feel of the wood. It was my favourite job polishing that clock. Such a sootheing sound it made, tick, tick and the way the pendulum moved back and forth fascinated me. I’d love to own a clock like that but being a cleaner there is not a chance!
The Browns are so trusting. I’ve often seen Mrs Brown’s bag open on the coffee table her purse poking out. They trusted me. I was their little treasure, almost part of the family.
It started a month or so ago
“I’m sure I had £70 in my purse but its gone” Mrs Brown said.
“Are you sure Anne?”
“Positive. Oh hold on a minute the zip was undone when I got home so the money could have fallen out or been taken”.
“I’ve told you before darling to make sure your bag is fastened. You’re such a scatter brain”.
“Yes Robert” Mrs Brown said but I could tell from her expression that she was only half convinced that the money had been lost or stolen while she was shopping.
Once you start stealing it becomes a compulsion. You can’t help yourself. The loss of money became a regular occurance. I could see the Browns watching me out of the corner of their eyes as I busied myself around the house. Of course they never caught me taking anything, thieves can be incredibly cunning.
Then today when I came to clean the house was like a bomb had hit it. Ornaments and that beautiful clock where missing. Poor Mrs Brown being comforted by her husband while Amelia, their teenage daughter looked on helplessly.
“Jean can I have a word please?” Mr Brown asked.
“Of course sir” I said my bowels turning to water.
“Lets go into the study” he said leading the way.
“Jean what happened, its obviously a professional job. The people who broke in new the code to the alarm and there is no sign of a forced entry. There is only one explanation. I’m sorry but you will have to go. I’ve no proof of course but you are the only person who could have done this. I’ll pay you until the end of the month. Here is your money” he said handing me an envelope. “We trusted you jean. We where good to you and you betrayed our trust. Please go now” he said the pain etched on his face.
I don’t know why I did it. They are as I keep saying a lovely couple but I’ve known Amelia since she was a little girl. She has sat on my knee and rolled around on the floor in fits of giggles as I tickled her. How could I tell the Browns that their little girl was a drug addict, that she was stealing to feed her habit? I must be mad,god knows why I did it …
“Exams are important don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. People will try telling you that they don’t matter in the great scheme of things
“There is more to life than exams Lisa. It isn’t the end of the world if you don’t obtain the grades to get into university” mum told me.
This is all bollocks. I’ve no intention of spending my life flipping burgers in some crummy burger bar. Do you know they have the cheek to call these places restaurants?! Problem is, strictly between you and I, you won’t let it go any further will you? Promise, cross your heart and hope to die? Well as you only have my first name and it would be impossible to trace me I’ll let you into a little secret. The truth is that I am not academically gifted. Don’t get me wrong I try. No one tries harder than me. I’ve spent weekends huddled over my books cramming for my exams, “Lisa no mates that’s me” but it goes in one ear and comes out the other. I just can’t remember things, head like a sieve thats me!
Well here I am now in my room at uni. You should have seen my mum’s face when I got the grades. There she stood her mouth gaping open like a stranded fish. Quite comical really. So did all my hard work pay off? Well it wasn’t that difficult for an 18-year-old bomb shell like me to seduce the head master and get my hands on the exam papers prior to the examination. Perhaps academic qualifications aren’t everything after all”.
Not a flicker of emotion showed in the green eyes as the sceene unfolded below.
“If I can’t have you then no one is going to have you” the man screamed at the girl as she locked the leather suitcase.
“Its over Michael. Can’t you get it through your thick skull that I don’t love you any more”.
“How can you say that? I’d do anything for you. I moved from Glasgow to London to be with you. I gave up my job and you tell me (he paused fighting back tears), and you walk in here, having been with another man and calmly tell me that its all over! Like hell its all over. You selfish little whore. All those times when you told me that you where doing the night shift in the hospital you where with him, don’t you dare deny it, I fucking know you where”.
“You’re a loser Michael. You always where and you will always be a waste of space. I must have been blind not to spot the word loser branded on your forhead when we first met”.
The girl picked up her suitcase and headed for the door. Unobserved the onlooker shifted his position. With mild curiosity he continued to watch the unfolding drama.
“You’ll leave here over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re going nowhere” Michael shouted as he moved to block the girl’s exit.
“Let me past Michael” the girl said attempting to push him away from the bedroom door.
“Don’t touch me you fucking bitch” Michael said his fist crashing into her nose. Feeling sick and dazed the girl staggered backwards collapsing on the bed, blood flowing from her broken nose.
Michael approached the cowering girl.
“You are going nowhere Lucy”.
Lucy’s terrified eyes met his.
“Please Michael don’t”.
“Don’t what? You dirty little whore”.
“Don’t” she said tears flowing down her face.
He stood looking down at the girl for a long time. Her pleading eyes sought for a flicker of humanity in his Gaze. There was none. Slowly Michael’s hands moved downwards. An inkling of her fate came to Lucy a millisecond prior to Michael’s fingers closing around her neck. She attempted to scream but the sound was choked off by his merciless grasp. The girl struggled for a minute then her body went limp. Michael continued to apply pressure long after the life had gone out of the girl. Eventually he came to himself and let go. Standing back from the bed he gazed at Lucy. She looked so beautiful her long black hair spread out over the pillows.
“Christ what have I done? What have I done?”
All the hate had gone out of Michael. He felt dead inside. The girl he had loved with such distructive passion was dead at his hands. Life was bleak and empty. Michael wandered into the kitchen. Opening the cutlery drawer he removed the knife. It had come with the wok which Lucy and he had purchased together in happier times. The knife was designed for chopping up meat and was ideally suited for what he had in mind.
From his vantage point the watcher saw Michael return. He saw him lie down next to Lucy. He observed the flash of the blade as it sliced into Michael’s throat. He heard Michael’s death rattle followed by the drip, drip of something unspeakable onto the bedroom carpet. He had seen enough. With a graceful movement the cat jumped from Lucy and Michael’s balcony to that of the neighbouring flat. A cat after all requires to be fed and is not overly concerned with who provides his meals.
My collection of short stories, “Sting In The Tail And Other Stories” is available as an ebook on amazon.com and can be found here http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DFK6R54. At time of writing “Sting In The Tail” does not appear on amazon.co.uk, however it should be available for purchase in the UK Kindle store very soon.
Many of the stories in this collection have an unexpected ending. In the title story, “Sting In The Tail” a clever fraudster prowls England’s green and pleasant land in search of his next victim but will he meet his match? IN “The Dinosaur” Lord Dudlum is faced with an ethical dilemma, should he give into the demands of his daughter or do what he knows to be right? Other stories look at what happens when the worlds of money and sex collide.
To view or purchase “Sting In The Tail And Other Stories” please visit the above link.
I have for so long as I can remember enjoyed stories with unexpected endings. As a child growing up in Liverpool I watched ITV’s Tales of the Unexpected (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tales_of_the_Unexpected_%28TV_series%29). Each episode featured a different tale all of which ended unexpectedly.
Tales of the Unexpected was in the back of my mind when I wrote Sting in the Tail (http://newauthoronline.com/2013/03/16/sting-in-the-tail/). In the story a highly educated and charming fraudster meets his match in the most unexpected manner in the form of a blind girl, Laura. The fraudster makes the fatal mistake of perceiving Laura as a poor disabled woman who poses no threat, indeed he determines not to defraud her as stealing from a blind woman is a step to far even for a hard bitten criminal such as him. The fraudster’s fatal mistake is to assume that disability equals intellectual inferiority rendering Laura a helpless victim who he, in a rare moment of conscience determines not to exploit.
Sting in the Tail is above all a story who’s aim as with all stories is to provide enjoyment to the reader, however, as a registered blind person I am also interested to explore how people can, quite erroneously conflate disability with what used to be known as feeble mindedness. As the fraudster finds to his chagrin in Sting in the Tail this is a costly error!
K Morris - Poet 