The Accused

THE ACCUSED.

The shopping was done in record time and the bags stowed in the boot of her car. Now she could treat herself to coffee and a little peace without risk of punishment. Pulling her collar up against the biting wind, she crossed the square and headed for the comfort of Dawson’s. Noticing her reflection in the plate glass doors of the store, she conceded that maybe she did look 48 years old. The cold air had given her face a pinched, hard veneer that was unattractive. Normally she disagreed with him about her looks, silently of course, never verbally; that would not be wise. But not this morning.

Now she did look her age, older in fact. Damn the cold and damn him! She felt in defiant mood as she pushed open the doors and lifted her face to greet the familiar warm air inside.

Pausing, she looked around trying to decide which section to walk through to the lift. She shrugged. Did it matter anymore? Turning left she chose the handbags and accessories and as she walked, she clasped her hands across her stomach in case she touched anything. She wasn’t a thief but would anyone believe her? It was doubtful, especially now. Too little time had elapsed and besides, she still felt confused.

He had seen her take the scarf apparently. Of course, at first she hadn’t believed him, had argued even but then when he had reached over and pulled it from her coat pocket - what could she say? She couldn’t remember taking it even then and still couldn’t. At the time she had been bogged down with grief. He had been concerned for her and had comforted her when she had burst into tears in the car park. She had been grateful and filled with shame and so had agreed when he had offered to drive her home to take a statement.

Thinking of him made her stomach churn and knot with frustrated emotion. One of her hot flushes grew from the back of her neck, spreading rapidly over her body and drenching her with perspiration. He found them amusing but then he didn’t have to put up with the discomfort. To him they were exciting, mother nature in action and he liked to feel the heat of her skin and the clammy coolness that followed. She shuddered, chilly now after the flush and stepped into the lift.

Choosing a window seat in the restaurant, she ordered coffee and a Danish pastry, pushing the guilt of weight problems to the back of her mind. She had enough guilt to contend with now without bothering about her size.

Food had been her only comfort since Tom had gone. His death had left an aching void that had to be filled. Eating and wandering the shops had helped. She didn’t buy anything, she couldn’t afford to. Tom hadn’t left her very well off and she had no job. But the window shopping had passed the time and kept her out of the empty house. But it had led to her downfall.


She felt ashamed to even think of Tom now. What would he think of her? Would he know that she wasn’t a thief? Maybe, but what of him? What would Tom think of him? He would know she was weak and a coward.

She paid the bill and dragged herself from the restaurant, reluctant to return home and face him, yet knowing she had no choice. She was too afraid to do otherwise in case he carried out his threat and reported her to the police.

The cold wind stung her cheeks and made her eyes water as she walked back to her car. It had started to snow again and if it got much worse they would be snowed in at the cottage and she wouldn’t get out again for days, maybe weeks. The thought frightened her and her hand shook as she turned the key in the ignition.

The roads were even worse on the drive back and she had to concentrate to keep the car from skidding on the ice. If it hadn’t been for him demanding fresh fish for dinner she wouldn’t have ventured out in such weather. But as with everything, he always got what he wanted and had done so since that day three months ago.

She was a prisoner in her own home and only went out to shop for food. He made sure of that by threatening her and the life of her old dog. And he timed her. He knew exactly how long it took to drive to town, do the shopping and return home. He seemed to know everything.

Glancing at her watch she realised that today she had dawdled too long and would pay the price. Sweat broke out on her brow. What punishment would he have in store for her this time? Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision She reached across to her handbag for a tissue just as the car approached the bend before her cottage. Too late - through her tears and the falling snow she saw a shape in the middle of the road. Slamming her foot hard on the brakes, the car skidded and went out of control, hitting the object and hurling it into the hedgerow. The car came to a standstill after first turning a complete circle and plunging headlong into the hedgerow further along the lane. Unhurt she clambered out and ran back to the dark bundle that lay half in and half on the hedgerow.

She recognised him instantly. His eyes were wide open and seemed to be looking directly at her. Reaching out her hand she felt for the pulse on the twisted wrist sticking out of the hedge close to her. There was nothing. Running into the cottage she dialed 999 and asked for an ambulance. Replacing the receiver she looked around her, stunned. He was dead and she had killed him. It had been an accident but would the police believe her in the circumstances?

Circumstances? She stared up at the large hand painted sign he had hung across the lounge to taunt her. “48 year old woman is accused of shoplifting.” A smile spread slowly across her face. The police didn’t know the circumstances, nobody did. She had no neighbours. She would say he was her lodger. Climbing on a chair she tugged at the paper and pulled the offending sign down. Tearing it to pieces she went into the kitchen and threw it onto the open fire. Her dog whined from his basket close by. “He’s gone now darling,” she whispered to him. “we are free.” The old dog wagged his tail complacently.

Running up the stairs she went into the spare bedroom and tugged at the covers on the bed, ruffling up the bottom sheet and punching some dents in the pillows. It had to looked slept in. Moving on to her room, she quickly gathered up his few belongings and took them back to the other room and arranged them carefully. She heard the sound of the ambulance just as she closed the bedroom door.

It didn’t take too long to make a statement explaining what had happened. The police were very understanding and sympathetic towards her.
“He must have been worried about me and started to walk along to meet me.” Barbara offered, sniffing into her handkerchief.

“Yes Mrs. Cooper, I’m sure you are right.” The policeman stood up and put his cup and saucer down on the draining board. “WPC Plumber can stay with you for a while, if you’d like.” he offered nodding to his assistant.
“Oh no, I’m fine now. You have both been very kind. I shall be alright.”

She closed the door and let out a deep sigh of relief. It was over. She was free again. They had believed her story, which after all, had been the truth, in part. It had been an accident and he probably had been walking to meet her. But not because he had been worried. More probably he had thought up some new and degrading punnishment for her!