She didn’t look like the kind of person who would WOBBLE. Nicely attired in her pale blue trouser suit, smelling of expensive perfume, she smiled her half smile. She was bound for what was to her, an important occasion.
“ALL these ladies to look after,” she remarked, as she made her way towards the door.
No one really knew what she meant. But then probably, neither did she.
Sally had never really known what to make of her. There seemed to be something beneath the surface that was not a BIT like what was on display. She’d been to Oxford University, studying German, and had eventually taught German in a school, but on her own admission she had never been interested in the academic life. All she had really wanted was a boyfriend. None had seemed to be forthcoming for quite a while.
“I thought I would never get a boyfriend,” she had confessed to Sally, flashing her wedding and very expensive looking engagement ring at her. She had, in fact, married Stephen, a man who was destined to become a vicar. Many thought he had married her for her money, for she had inherited a large amount from her parents’ dairy farm. Indeed, this might have been true, for he enjoyed showing off his very expensive clothes on his day off. He himself had come from parents who, though in the church themselves, his father being a vicar, drank and smoked and spent money like it was water, the upshot being that he never had anything. However, somehow or other he had found himself at Oxford University doing Languages. He hadn’t had much time for girls, cricket being, in his opinion, the much better option. Until he met Helen, that was. Suddenly, he realised that he really wanted to have sexual experience, and so, in the end, married her. Of course, that was the only right way to do it, but he often complained to Sally that sex with Helen had to be “respectable.” Sally got the distinct impression that he yearned for mire exciting things. Helen bored him. That much was obvious.
Helen appeared to have it all together, fulfilling ger role as vicar’s wife. Until one day when Sally found her in the huge vicarage kitchen hacking at the ice in the freezer with a huge knife. Her whole body was thrusting as she attacked the ice, and her anger was patently obvious. She had finally broken under the strain of being married to Stephen and being a vicar’s wife. Gone was her powder blue trouser suit, and she was attired in sloppy jeans and a T- shirt that had seen better days. She was perspiring, for the day was hot. Sally sensed a rising uncontrolled anger inside Helen, and then it happened. Helen turned towards Sally brandishing the knife, with a grimace on her face. Then, her eyes started to stare, as if she had gone quite insane. Sally darted for the kitchen door, but she didn’t quite make it.
Stephen soon arrived home having conducted Evening Prayer, to be confronted with Sally’s body lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor.