ALL A MISTAKE

ALL A MISTAKE

She knew the door was locked, locked tight. She had made sure checking the top and bottom bolts, the turned key in the lock. He couldn’t get in, she’d check again. It was the third time Marianne had checked the locked door. Fear flickered in her eyes as she thought of him. His voice low and ugly and threats issued from those lips she’d once kissed had once loved. That was before she’d read yesterday’s evening paper before she’d seen his photo on the front page, the headline ‘WANTED – HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?

He’d phoned early, seemed to know at once that she’d seen the paper. Speaking with a gentle voice he’d told how wrong it all was. False news, he’d never harmed anyone, all a mistake. She’d put the phone down unable to speak, had rushed to the door pulling each lock in place with trembling fingers.

She knew he’d come, all day she had waited until it was early evening and then the banging had started. He’d called her name, a mistake he kept saying, believe me,, it’s all a mistake, he called as he tried to burst through the door.
She knew she had to call the police, yes, the police. The phone was in the hall on the small table near the door, the front door the hall. Trying not to attract his attention she crept into the hall, but he knew, even as her hand reached for the phone he shouted.

“Don’t call the police, I can explain it’s all a mistake, let me in and I’ll tell you about her. She was no good, it was an accident I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean it.”

She jumped back her hand just missing the phone as his voice raged on and the battering at the door increased. He was using something heavy; would it break open the door. She fled, through the house to the back door. With her hand on the key, his voice came, soft as a whisper, the sound she knew so well.

“Open the door darling, please. I’ll explain everything it will all be ok just let me explain”

She reached again for the phone with a steady hand and ran with it into the kitchen with his voice calling behind her.

“Please Marianne, please.”

The policeman who answered told her to stay where she was or if she had a key to her bedroom to lock herself in there. She ran to the bedroom locking herself in the room as she’d been told. She waited; it seemed an age before she heard footsteps on the stairs. Sighing with relief, tears flooding her face she opened the door.

The two policemen that arrived found the front door battered but unopened. With no key, they Locating and climbing the stairs they found all the doors closed.
When pushing at each door they finally found Marianne.

The bedroom was tidy, and she lay on the bed. An eiderdown was wrapped around her. Her eyes were closed in a face beaten, unrecognizable. Beside her on the bloodstained pillow a note – all a mistake, I loved her but she wouldn’t listen.