The Locksmith by Linda Calvey (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

over him. His clothes were dishevelled, as you’d expect if he’d taken a kicking, and he was clutching at an injury on his arm.

‘Where was he?’ she said eventually, looking over at Archie, who was standing by the window, his back to the three of them. It was as if he could not bear to even look at her brother.

It was Alfie who replied.

‘He was at his mate’s house. Big-time dealer boy ’ere was crouching low at his friend’s house gettin’ fucked up on crack.’

Ruby nodded. She looked over at her brother and, in that moment, felt a surge of pity. He was a pathetic sight, sobbing and shaking, as the effects of the drugs wore off, and the knowledge of his attack sunk in.

Ruby saw she needed to take control. It was only a matter of time before Archie’s pent-up anger would be released, and she could see Alfie snarling next to her. He’d always reminded her of a dog bred to fight, an animal straining at the leash. Well, soon he’d be freed to set upon her brother, the shivering, swaying mess that had brutalised her girl.

‘Leave us,’ she said.

Archie looked round. He spoke at last. ‘I’m not leavin’ you alone in ’ere with him. No way, babe.’

‘Leave us, please,’ Ruby said, ‘both of you. I want to speak to my brother.’ She looked into her husband’s eyes, seeing pure revenge there, and she nodded. ‘I understand. I still want to speak to him . . . whatever he’s done, he is my brother, and more like a son to me . . .’

Archie saw his wife’s determination and relented.

He signalled to Alfie to follow him out.

‘We’ll be right outside if he tries anythin’, fuckin’ ponce,’ Alfie sneered.

Ruby waited until the door was shut behind them.

She came over to the sofa where her brother was sitting. She put her arm around him, feeling the sweat soaking through his clothes, the smell of fear leaching from him.

‘Why did you do it?’ she asked.

George shook his head. ‘It’s the drugs. They make me mental. I don’t know why I did that to Cathy. I love Cathy, she’s the best one of all of us . . .’ George snivelled, snot and tears running down his face. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Promise me somethin’, Ruby?’ he sobbed.

‘What’s that, darlin’?’ Ruby replied, rubbing his back to calm him as if he was a child again. How many times had she rubbed his tummy when it was sore, or soothed his night terrors as a child? Far too many to count. How many times had she wiped away childish tears, calmed his frustrations and fussed over imagined injuries? It seemed like their whole life together was suddenly in front of them and Ruby was left to pick out the memories: George smiling with an ice cream on a hot summer’s day, holding him as he giggled in a bubble bath as a baby, walking him to school on his first day. It had all led to this, this degradation, this disgrace, an unforgiveable crime.

‘Promise me you won’t let them hurt me.’ George turned his face up to hers and the pain and regret was there to see.

He burst into fresh tears and Ruby found herself comforting him again, saying, ‘There, there, it’s goin’ to be OK.’

‘It isn’t Ruby, I know . . .’

Ruby felt her heart lurch with the love she bore this young man, her baby brother, now a rapist. He was her flesh and blood, whatever he’d done. She looked back into his eyes. They were filled with desperation, and he clung to her, shaking and crying. She could feel his tears soaking into her blouse.

Her decision had been made hours ago yet she almost balked, almost turned away from the path she needed to follow. Her love for him had to stay strong or she wouldn’t be able to do it. She held him closer. Behind her was the Gucci bag, now open, and she placed her hand inside it.

The seconds stretched out yet George didn’t appear to notice.

She mustn’t wobble. She mustn’t hesitate.

‘I promise I won’t let them hurt you,’ she said. ‘I love you, darlin’.’

As she said the words her hand grasped the cold metal of the handgun she carried with her always.

She brought the weapon gently to the side of George’s head.

She had to do this. She had to show mercy because she knew her husband would not.

Ruby took a deep breath – and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Blood, gristle and bone shot around the room. George’s skull exploded into a million fragments. Drops of red were sprayed across the room, covering the sofa, the floor in front of them and Ruby herself.

His body, now a dead weight, slumped onto the sofa cushion, and she dropped the gun on the wooden floor, a sound which would stay with her for ever.

The door burst open.

Ruby didn’t look up. She was leaning over him, cradling the lump of bone and blood that was her brother.

‘It’s done,’ she said.

No one spoke. Nobody moved. It was as if they’d been frozen in a terrible spell, a nightmare with no beginning or end.

Then the spell was broken.

‘Fuck!’ yelled Alfie.

‘What did you do, Ruby? What did you go and do?’ Archie said as he ran over to his wife.

Slowly, Ruby stood up. It was as if everything went numb. The world slipped away and all she could hear was the rush of blood and grief in her head.

‘Get her out of ’ere. Now!’ Alfie shouted to his twin, who seemed as stunned as Ruby was. ‘Take her inside. Get her to take all her clothes off. Put Ruby in the bath, quickly. Grab the clothes and bring them back ’ere,’ Alfie commanded. He was a practised killer and knew the drill.

‘Why did ya do this, Ruby? Why?’ Archie said, staring up at his wife with new eyes.

Ruby didn’t notice the blood trickling down her face, covering her hands, soaking through her silk dress. She felt like she was in a trance