Out of Africa

"I'm so sorry honey," my pale looking wife cried out in anguish as I walked into her room. "I was such a fool to imagine that I could trust Joshua."

"It's alright Eve, darling," I consoled her bending down to kiss her tenderly, shocked by the bruises on her face. "Don't worry. I'm here for you."

"He hit me Dave, my wife wept in my arms. "He wanted me to ..... He wanted me to .... There were four of them."

"It's alright honey," I tried to console her.

"He tried to force me Dave, but I wouldn't," she sobbed. "I've been such a fool."

"It's OK now," I told her, her behaviour put aside for the moment. "It's over. It's finished. Everything will be Ok now."

"But how can it be Dave? Nothing can ever be the same again."

"Of course it can Eve," I assured her, not certain that I was speaking the truth, knowing that it was not the moment to make any rash decisions. "We'll go back to as it was before."

"You don't know, do you?" Eve stated, locking eyes with me. "They haven't told you."

"It's pretty obvious Eve," I tried to calm her down. "The black bastard beat you. I can see the bruises"

"He didn't just hit me in the face Dave," she groaned. "He punched me in the stomach. I miscarried Dave. I've lost our baby. Joshua murdered our baby."

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I don't recall accurately much about the next day.

I blamed Eve for going with him, then I blamed myself for allowing her to go. Damn it, I blamed Joe and Alf and Fred for sort of introducing us, and her parents for allowing her to go to Africa in the first place for that matter.

When I discovered that the police were hesitating to take action due to some dubious claim of diplomatic immunity, then I blew a fuse. I just knew that by the time they'd sorted it out, then he'd be long ago back on a jet to the safety of East Africa.

I parked Sam with the grandparents telling them that I was going to pick up Eve from the hospital as she was due out, but left her there to stew and made my way over to where I knew Joshua was due to give his last performance to his flock. I had no idea what I intended to do, just that I had to do something. I sat through the load of rubbish that he spouted, aware from the looks from his acolytes that he wasn't putting on his best performance.

The applause was limited, and that gave me some satisfaction, but by no means enough.

Ten minutes after he'd finished, I found myself making my way backstage to find him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the reverend Joshua," I replied to the big guy who stood in my way.

"Sorry mate," he replied, not budging. "He's not seeing anyone.

"I want to make a donation," came to me automatically. "I was impressed."

"You can make donations out at the front office," he told me with a forced smile on his face, still not budging.

"I was thinking of a thousand pounds or so," I threw into the mix, having no real idea if I'd pitched the level correctly.

"Cash?"

"No, cheque," I shot back. "And I want to have the pleasure of giving it to the man himself personally, which was apparently a request that he was used to.

The false smile widened and on his bidding I followed him to Joshua's lair, in the opposite direction to what I'd been going, and I found myself standing there facing the infamous Joshua, who of course had no idea who I was.

"God bless you for your generosity sir," he greeted me, dismissing the assistant with a wave of his hand. "I understand you wish to make a substantial donation to the works of the Lord."

"Yes," I replied, wondering what the hell I was doing there and reaching for my chequebook.

"A thousand pounds to support our good works, I believe you mentioned," the big guy gloated at me. Big, but going to fat by anyone's standards.

"That's right," I smiled back, a muddled plan forming in my mind.

"Leave the payee blank if you don't mind," he suggested, further confirming what a cheating, lying, bastard he was. "This is the last day, and the normal account has been closed."

"No problem," I replied, filling in the cheque and handing it over to him with a grin.

"Thank you Mr....," he smirked, looking down at the cheque to see my name, his smile changing to a frown as he read what I'd written.

"Mr Mouse?"

I smiled back at him.

"Mr Mickey Mouse?"

I smiled again.

"What sort of game is this?" He demanded, the frown deepening. "This isn't amusing."

"No more amusing than hitting a defenceless woman."

"Who the fuck are you?" the bugger growled, standing up threateningly. "Get the hell out of here."

"Going to hit me like you hit my wife are you?" I challenged.

"Ah, the wimp," he smirked, coming out from behind his desk to confront me. "Can't satisfy your wife and come for a lesson, have you?"

"Come to teach you a lesson," I responded, aware that in reality the guy would flatten me, if he got hold of me, dodging sideways as he reached out to grab me.

"That's it wimp," he taunted me. "Your wife's a great fuck, but you're never keeping my daughter."

"We'll see about that," I taunted him. "No court in the country will give you access after what you've done."

"Won't bring your baby back though, will it," he snarled.

At which point I snapped!

I can't actually remember picking up the brass candlestick from his desk. Hadn't even registered that it was there.

I can't remember hefting it above my head, only the awful grin on his ugly face as he took a swing at me.

I can't recall swinging the candlestick, or even aiming it, but I can remember the crunch as it struck him. I remember it as well as I recall the shock that resonated through my hand as the implement buried itself into his skull.

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He was dead!

I knew it straight away before I even looked down at him. I always thought serious head injuries resulted in a lot of blood, but there didn't seem to be too much.

But there was enough!

He didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't groan or anything. He just lay there. Lay there dead the way dead people do.

I thought I didn't panic, but on reflection I must have. I wiped the candlestick with my handkerchief, and then like a fool threw that in the bin, though that never actually surfaced to bite me on the bum. Hearing footsteps outside I darted through the second door having no idea where it led to, ignoring the shout from behind me, only knowing that my only chance of escape was to make myself scarce. Ten minutes later found me scuttling along an alleyway and back to my car, when I did well to get home without having an accident.

Safe!

No way!

It was only when I got home that the truth hit me. Not only had I left my handkerchief there, but several people had seen me, worst of all the goon who had led me to Joshua's room.

When it dawned on me that I'd left my cheque there as well, I knew I was doomed. I might have signed it Mickey Mouse but my real name was printed underneath in bold letters.

No escape!

And I'd thought that things couldn't have got any worse.

I sat there waiting for them to come for me, desperately wanting to go see Sam, and yes Eve, before they took me, but not wanting them to go through the trauma of seeing me arrested.

I waited. I waited for the end of my world as I'd known it.

It took some time. Longer than I thought.

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"Mr Lyon?" Came the call, reminiscent of one I'd had a few days before, but even more deadly.

"Speaking."

"This is the City police here sir," I was surprised to hear. Can they really arrest you over the phone? They never did that on the television. "Your wife is Mrs Eve Lyon?"

This was weird. Sort of Deja Vue!

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I have to inform you sir, that we have arrested your wife on suspicion of murder."

He said some other things, but don't ask me what. I thanked him for letting me know and sat there bemused.

What the hell!

Somehow I informed her parents or somebody did. Somehow I got through the rest of the day, but to be honest I wasn't aware of the passage of time.

The next day, and I guess it must have been the next day, found me sat in front of some solicitor guy that her parents must have found, because I certainly hadn't been capable of organising such a thing. He talked to me and asked questions but don't ask me what we talked about. I think I came out of my befuzzled state for the first time the following day

when for the first time I was allowed to visit Eve.

"Are you OK honey?" She asked uncertainly.

"Not sure Eve," I answered. "How about you?"

"Not sure," she giggled nervously. "I guess I've been better."

"What the hell happened?" I implored her.

"Later," she insisted. "Just keep your mouth shut and look after Sam."

And that folks was about as much as I found out about the turnabout that had happened, and it was half a week later that with our solicitor assuring our privacy in a private room, that I found out the truth.

"They let me out of the hospital and when I found that you'd left to pick me up but hadn't arrived, I guessed where you'd be. You'd gone after Joshua and when I got there they told me that some new benefactor was in his office with him. I just knew it had to be you, so I burst into his office shouting for you not to do anything silly."

"That would have been me," I told Eve, remembering the noise I'd heard as I'd fled his office, and the shout that I'd ignored and ran from.

"I didn't know that straight away Dave," she told me. "I saw his body there and froze. Didn't know what to do."

"Not surprising," I agreed. 'But what did you do?"

"I picked up your cheque and realised that it must have been you that had fled as I arrived. I knew I had to make it disappear, so I eat it."

"What!" I exclaimed in surprise.

"I eat it," she repeated, smiling for the first time. "Screwed it up and forced it down. That way nobody would ever find it, and you'd be safe."

"But I killed him Eve," I reminded her. "It was me, not you."

"But they don't know that Dave," Eve went on. "I picked up the candlestick so my fingerprints were on it and then rang the police from that bastard's own phone."

"But why? How? This can't happen," I cried out. "You can't take the blame."

"Ask him," Eve responded, indicating her solicitor sat silently by the side of us. "It's the best thing for both of us. He killed our baby"

"She's right Mr. Lyon," piped up the pretty nondescript guy breaking his silence, and re-checking before he continued that we were speaking under conditions of client confidentiality. "I don't want to know what happened, but If you were found guilty then you'd go down for a long time. As far as Mrs. Lyon is concerned, then a woman who has just been beaten and lost her baby would be treated very differently, and any normal court would take a very lenient view."

"She'll get off?" I demanded, incredulously.

"Probably not," he proclaimed, but an awful lot less than you would."

"Sorry," I told the pair of them. "I can't let this happen."

But I did.

Yes, I did.

We all did, all three of us, even the barrister that represented Eve in court not knowing what had actually taken place on that day.

I'd argued and disagreed with Eve's decision to take the blame, but she'd argued back, insisting that it was all her fault and that she should take the blame, and eventually I'd caved in.

"She was caught red handed Mr Lyon," the solicitor pointed out. "It's her word against yours and the police will just think your trying to save her."

"Like she's trying to save me?" I sighed, defeated.

"Exactly Mr Lyon. That's what people do for their loved ones.

Which is when I caved in.

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I was never happy about letting Eve take the blame, especially not even being able to tell her parents. They were distraught about what happened, but never blamed her for what she did, and strangely that seemed to be the attitude of nearly everyone; the surprisingly little press attention that the case gendered universally being in support of her situation.

Exceptionally they allowed bail, so Eve spent the months before the trial at home with us, only having to report to the police every third day, not that she had any intention of making a run, even as the date of the case got closer.

Personally I resolved to put what Eve had done to the back of my mind, too aware that those few short months may be the last that we'd ever have. She did cry a lot, but it was always over the loss of her baby and not what was awaiting her.

One day, a bad day for me, I went to the police and told them it was me that had killed the bugger. They listen patiently and then told me to go home to my wife and child and stop wasting their time.

What else could I do?

What else should I have done?

The court case came and the expected sentence handed down. Two years for manslaughter, with the knowledge that with time off for good behaviour, she'd be back out in one year.

It seemed a long time.

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The great door to the old Victorian building that housed the prison clanged shut!

Imposing though the building undoubtedly was, I, like many before me, preyed silently that I'd never have to see the damn thing again.

Twelve months!

A year with my life on hold, waiting for this day, waiting to see whether I still really had a family.

"Hi Dave," she said nervously.

"Hi yourself," I replied equally uncertainly.

"Where's Sam," she asked. "I'm desperate to see her."

"With Mum and Dad," I told her. "She thinks you've been in hospital all this time, and so excited about seeing you."

"Oh God I hope so," Eve replied, smiling for the first time and seeming to lighten the whole street up. "How is she? What did she say?"

"She asked if she was going to have a little brother to look after."

"And what did you answer Dave?" She asked, her voice wavering.

"I told her that it might be a sister, and that she'd have to wait a bit longer."

"And she was happy with that?" Eve queried, a hint of that smile returning.

"Ecstatic; as I will be Eve," I confirmed.

"You really mean that honey," my wife grinned widely.

"Absolutely," I grinned back, taking her in my arms as she rushed to me. "Let's get back. The sooner we get started the better."

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There were difficult times ahead of us. Of course there were, but together, with the help of her parents and naturally little Sam, our little family became one again.

Well three of course.

Well four the following year ----- Then five!

Ok, truth be known, five and counting, all our troubles, except the little ones that kept us awake at night, behind us.

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Long time since I posted, so I hope you enjoyed my little tale, because it took me a long, long time to get round to finishing it.

Please vote and please comment, but most of all I hope this story leaves you with a smile and not wishing that Eve had got further punishment, because she really didn't deserve it. It incredible what a mother will do to protect her child.

You may differ of course!