Emotional Connections

The Black Widow

Standing by the window, I pulled the net curtain back to see outside.  Where was Martin? Oh well, he'll be here soon. He's always late.  I've never known him to be on time. I glanced at my watch. I had made an appointment with the Funeral Directors for 4.00 pm, so there was still plenty of time.

A sudden feeling of euphoria washed over me. I was free! Free at last of that hateful man! I should never have married for a second time. How I had lived to regret it. In fifteen years he had never used my name. It was always 'Woman' this or 'Woman' that; unless we were in company. They all thought he was a lovely man. All except for my son Martin. He knew.

It seems no one has any suspicions. Just as well, I don't want to go to prison at the age of seventy two. But still, I have plenty of years left to enjoy; on my own.

It had been so easy in the end. I had kept on about decorating the hall and had made him furious by picking off the ragged paper. I'd even wet a section and scraped a whole piece away. Oh, he was so mad! He hit me and swore until the air was blue. I almost regretted what I'd done, but I kept my cool and laid my plans. Agatha Christie gave me the idea. 

Charlie had always been paranoid about burglars so that is how the plan came about. He couldn't stand me putting on the light at night, as it always woke him up. Something else for him to complain about. I was getting to be a nervous wreck and had been taking anti-depressants for some time. No one could live like I did and not suffer.

The other night I had put on my bed-side light.

"Charlie...Charlie!" I said, shaking his arm. "I heard a loud noise downstairs!"

He swore, (the last words I ever heard him speak), but was up straight away and headed for the stairs. I heard him fall noisily and I waited for a few seconds before going out onto the landing. There he was sprawled at the bottom, his leg at a strange angle and blood pouring from his head.

I removed the trip wire (a piece of string) and removed the screws from either side of staircase, throwing them into an old box of odds and ends in the bottom of the airing cupboard. Only then did I go downstairs and I found Charlie just, only just, alive...he couldn't speak.

"I'll just phone the ambulance, Charlie, don't worry." I said. I took my time walking into the lounge to the phone. They were here within fifteen minutes. He was dead by that time. I explained what happened and they said it was accidental. I cried in front of them and they felt so sorry for me, but it was only due to the shock.

If only they knew...

500 words