A cacophony of birdsong fills the air. But no birds are in sight; hidden in the growing crops and burgeoning bushes. Except for the swallows. They continue to swoop and circle, fast-moving shadows against the blue sky; their arrival heralding summer.
They’d all be silent and invisible when he returned later with Veronica, he thought as he walked back to his car. Of course, she’d be silent too. She habitually used silence as a weapon; but he was confident that, after tonight, she would be disarmed.
Veronica has isolated herself all her life. She wasn’t pleased to have to look after him following the loss of his parents in an aircraft crash when he was 14. But that was a long time ago, and for some years he had been taking care of her while she silently despised him. She spoke to no one and rarely left the house.
It took him a while to load the car before he and Veronica set off that night. And even longer to get Veronica settled in the back seat. Although he knew the drive would be silent, he still found it unsettling. He reached for the radio to provide some distraction.
Arriving at the place he had selected earlier, he turned and smiled at Veronica.
“Wait there, I won’t be long.”
Opening the boot, he removed the paper gloves and coveralls. After carefully pulling them on, he reached inside again.
It was harder work than he had expected, but finally everything was ready and he returned to Veronica.
He opened the car door, “It’s been a while coming, but you deserve it all.”
Struggling to get Veronica out of the car, he swore under his breath.
“Helpful as always! If you’d just make a bit of effort, even just occasionally, perhaps life could be better for both of us.”
She didn’t reply, or even look at him.
He smiled at her again when she emerged. “You’ll like it here.”
She didn’t make it to the place he had selected, but he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. This was the first time he’d held her in all the time they’d spent together. He could hardly breath through her familiar perfume, which was heavier than her small frame. She had never held him, not even to ease his grieving all those years ago.
He carefully replaced the final piece of turf, complete with dandelions and water hyacinths and stepped back to check his work before returning to the car.
Back home, he burnt the paper gloves and coveralls and stored the shovel in the back of the shed.
No one would miss her, he thought, as he entered the house. Then he cleaned out her cup, just in case, and opened a bottle of wine to toast her memory.
The poison had worked well; even if a bit quicker than he had expected.
They’d all be silent and invisible when he returned later with Veronica, he thought as he walked back to his car. Of course, she’d be silent too. She habitually used silence as a weapon; but he was confident that, after tonight, she would be disarmed.
Veronica has isolated herself all her life. She wasn’t pleased to have to look after him following the loss of his parents in an aircraft crash when he was 14. But that was a long time ago, and for some years he had been taking care of her while she silently despised him. She spoke to no one and rarely left the house.
It took him a while to load the car before he and Veronica set off that night. And even longer to get Veronica settled in the back seat. Although he knew the drive would be silent, he still found it unsettling. He reached for the radio to provide some distraction.
Arriving at the place he had selected earlier, he turned and smiled at Veronica.
“Wait there, I won’t be long.”
Opening the boot, he removed the paper gloves and coveralls. After carefully pulling them on, he reached inside again.
It was harder work than he had expected, but finally everything was ready and he returned to Veronica.
He opened the car door, “It’s been a while coming, but you deserve it all.”
Struggling to get Veronica out of the car, he swore under his breath.
“Helpful as always! If you’d just make a bit of effort, even just occasionally, perhaps life could be better for both of us.”
She didn’t reply, or even look at him.
He smiled at her again when she emerged. “You’ll like it here.”
She didn’t make it to the place he had selected, but he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. This was the first time he’d held her in all the time they’d spent together. He could hardly breath through her familiar perfume, which was heavier than her small frame. She had never held him, not even to ease his grieving all those years ago.
He carefully replaced the final piece of turf, complete with dandelions and water hyacinths and stepped back to check his work before returning to the car.
Back home, he burnt the paper gloves and coveralls and stored the shovel in the back of the shed.
No one would miss her, he thought, as he entered the house. Then he cleaned out her cup, just in case, and opened a bottle of wine to toast her memory.
The poison had worked well; even if a bit quicker than he had expected.
