Sunday, 24 June 2012

Someday I Will Treat You Good

(Someday I Will Treat You Good - Sparklehorse)

I'm sorry babes, he said when he picked her up off the floor, and he told her that he was sorry that he had been angry, and explained how it was all her fault, and that in the end she should feel bad that she made him feel bad about hitting her. Besides, he was under a lot of stress, trying to grow the business and dodge the cops long enough so that they had the money to get that little place in Spain she had always wanted.

She covered up the bruises with the foundation that she always used, and he asked her if they were OK, and she said yes so he was happy again and went off in his X5 to do his deals and hang out with the lads at the gym and see if he could get anywhere with the girl on reception there who let him take her to the Travel Lodge when the mood took her.

When he came home his other BMW was a map of different colours from the paint stripper. He ran through all of his possible enemies and people who might want to get revenge or send him a warning, and then he gave up on that because it was too long. He went into the house the back way, with the baseball bat he kept under a blanket in the X5, not sure if they were still there, or if they had taken Donna. He wasn't the brightest match in the box, but he pretty soon worked out that they hadn't taken Donna at all, because there was no them. His designer suits were on one side of the front room, and the other side of the front room too, a tangle of chopped up fabric. His shoes were in the middle, all with the toes cut off. He could smell smoke, and when he went into the kitchen he found all of the photos in the sink, blackened and curled.

He hefted the bat, pursed his lips, shook his head. He would find her. And he thought about what he would do when he did, but he didn't have the chance to think for long, because Donna was much brighter than he was, and when the police barrelled in through the front door, they already knew all the hiding places and all the bank account numbers, and all the contacts, and all the things that he thought she didn't even know.

Some of the hiding places were empty, and so was one of the bank accounts, and Donna got the little place in Spain that she had always wanted.

(This is the 26th of the fifty-two stories. Thanks for sticking with me to the half-way mark).

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