Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Entry #117

True Colours
by G.S. Wiley


“‘For sale: baby shoes, never worn.’”

“I’m sorry?” Emma set the tray beside her husband. The wine, a rich claret, glowed like rubies through the cut crystal.

Neville tossed aside a priceless first edition as if he were discarding a day-old newspaper. “Hemingway. The shortest story ever written. I wouldn’t expect an illiterate clod like you to know it.” Malice was ever-present in his piggy eyes.

When they first married, Neville was a loving husband and a devoted son-in-law. Everything changed when Emma’s father died. Once his inheritance was secure, Neville allowed his true personality to show. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Is this Brie?”

“Camembert.”

That was the wrong answer. Neville overturned the tray, sending cheese and crackers across the floor. He kept the wineglass. “Get someone to clean that up.”

In happier days, Tarnisham Manor had been the site of parties and hunts that lasted for days. Gradually, Neville’s behaviour drove everyone away. Even Emma’s childhood best friend Dr. Jeremy Prescott only telephoned periodically to ask if “that miserable bastard is still alive.”

“And send in that new maid,” Neville called. “Doris. It’s time she made my acquaintance.” He swigged from the glass. Wine dribbled down his chin and onto his shirtfront.

As Emma left the library, she heard a gasp, followed by a desperate choking. Good. She’d received the little green bottle from Jeremy months ago; she worried the contents might have deteriorated with time.

“Vanished: One bastard, never missed.” Emma picked up the telephone and dialled.

18 comments:

laughingwolf said...

perfect comeuppance :)

Laurel said...

Somehow I am not one bit dismayed that the bodycount just climbed higher. Go Emma!

wrath999 said...

Very nicley done

alex

JR's Thumbprints said...

I think we ran out of body bags. You did a nice job depicting the old coot.

The Preacherman said...

This comps turned into a wine massacre!!!

Mind you it's made bloody good reading. I think I'd have killed the miserable old bugger myself!


Four Dinners

Therese said...

Nice. Good job.

Mona said...

That is what I call poetic justice :D

Aniket Thakkar said...

This is really creepy!!! On the same day July 14th, 6 hrs before this post was posted I mentioned the very same short story "For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never Worn" in one the comments of Entry#73. here:

http://clarityofnight.blogspot.com/2009/07/entry-73.html

What are the Odds of that????

I really liked this piece though.
This is one killing am not at all sad over. :)

Unknown said...

Brilliant - just desserts! Love how you tied up the end from the beginning. Great stuff!

Terri said...

I love the ending! "Vanished: One bastard, never missed." Made me laugh out loud :-)

BernardL said...

You made me glad to see him go. :)

Anonymous said...

Very Oscar Wilde-Gosford Park ish. So nicely written. Loved.

Meghan said...

Love how you tied in the Hemingway story together at the beginning and end. Great job!

Chris Eldin said...

A complete story! Nicely done! Love the full circle effect.

Tessa said...

Clever opening line and a beautifully
rounded story. Excellent...and so original. Well done!

JaneyV said...

sweeeeeet! Nicely executed!

Esther Avila said...

You can't help but feel disgust as you read about the slob. Great imagery, great detail, the history is there.... wonderfully written.

Anonymous said...

What a boar! Glad someone sent her the antidote. Very clever and well told.

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