So I really hope you don't mind me posting my rubbish yet again, but I have been practising what advice I've got and want to see if it's working. I've tried hard to take out words I think might be unnecessary although there are probably loads left. I apologise for the grammar as always....this is a long time fix
I'm unsure if the dialogue may be confusing to the reader as I don't specify identities in the first part?
I should also mention that the content may cause offence to some readers.
The familiar ding indicated a new message had been delivered onto the screen of the i-mac computer, and the recipient read it over thoughtfully before typing a response.
A tall mug of coffee was set neatly on a drinks mat, the contents sending a swirl of steam rising into the air.
The room was in darkness but for a small lamp in the corner that cast a dull glow, barely bright enough to illuminate a few feet ahead.
‘It sounds like you’ve had a good day ☺’
The figure read the comment and tapped out a reply.
‘Yeah not bad. What you been up to?’
‘Just working. Borin stuff, you know? What you up to now?’
‘Pretty bored, just chillin’
There was a pause.
The figure leant forward and took a sip from the cup, silently cursing at the hot liquid.
A second or two passed.
‘You feeling horny?
Although the words that were printed on the screen were what had been expected, the recipient shifted uneasily in the swivel chair and leant forward to take another sip of the coffee, barely noticing the heat of the liquid now.
Again a pause ensued before the ding of a response.
‘A little naughty! Why don’t you take off your clothes?’
Another slurp of coffee.
‘I’m in my pyjamas. It’s too cold to undress”
‘That’s ok. You don’t have to if you don’t want to ☺’
There seemed a long pause where neither party responded until the ding sounded again.
‘I’ve been thinking, perhaps we could meet up one day after all this time? Might be fun to hang out. I can show you my new wheels’
The figure raised the cup again and drained the contents.
‘That sounds like a fantastic idea!!’
This time the pause was much longer.
‘Ok brilliant!! How about we meet at St Georges car park on West Park Drive on Wednesday evening…say 7pm. I'll be in a red Dodge Ram? You won't miss me’
‘Sounds great! ☺’
The response dropped into the text box once more.
‘Okay brilliant! I’m going to really look forward to that. I simply can’t wait to meet you!’
The recipient sent a smiling emoticon and thumbs up before leaning forward to hold the off button, killing the power of the imac.
The room plunged into almost darkness now apart from the weak glow in the corner of the room.
The figure reached forward onto the desk and picked up the phone before punching a number into the keypad.
“Hey” The voice responded.
“I’ve got him babe. I’ve got the motherfucker!”
Static on the line crackled momentarily before he responded.
“You’ve got him to meet you?”
Ana Matlock pushed herself back into the chair and smiled.
“Yeah baby. I’ve got the dirty little scumbag to meet me”
The line went dead and Ana knew she had done well.
Wednesday 22nd April – Two Years Earlier
The monotonous ticking of the cuckoo clock intruded Ana’s thoughts as she pushed a nearly full plate of her husband’s homemade Oxon stew around with her spoon.
“It’s not going to eat itself Ana” a gentle voice spoke behind her.
Ana Matlock continued to stare aimlessly at her plate, choosing not to react when she felt the reassuring touch of her husband’s hand lay lovingly on her shoulder.
It had been approximately 6.15pm when Daniel Matlock had presented his wife with his homemade creation.
Grass-fed Oxon, a variety of organic vegetables and a home stewed bone broth had gone into the recipe.
He’d tried extra hard this evening ensuring it would all be exactly to how his wife would approve, but now as the clock had just about lapped a full hour, he collected her plate with its cold contents, and as usual scraped them into the bin.
This same scenario had played out for the past few weeks like a rendition of Groundhog Day.
She was looking thin. Daniel could see this even though she had chosen to wear the very same oversized cardigan that she wore on the last morning she had seen their daughter alive.
In fact, she had worn that cardigan every single day since that fateful day.
"Ana" Daniel whispered.
"Ana!" he repeated with more urgency.
His wife turned her head slightly and he caught a glance at just how much she had aged.
Even though her long, jet-black hair still looked youthful, it belied her age as the stress of the past few months had managed to steal her youth somewhat by carving out valleys of pain onto her skin.
Her once bright blue sparkling eyes were now dull and lifeless, unable to offer even a flash of positivity, and the rosy tint that had pinched at her cheeks was now replaced with a pale, sullen complexion.
For a brief moment Daniel shook his head, as if the happy memory held too much pain.
The confirmation of their daughter’s death had been surreal. Even now, the memories of that night’s event were sketchy; the pale faced police officers, the hot tea in the china cup spilling in slow motion onto the carpet as his wife leapt up screaming ‘No’ over, and over.
He’d held her shaking body in his arms for what seemed like hours whilst the in-comprehendible words spun around in his head.
“I’m so sorry Mr & Mrs Matlock, but we think we’ve identified the body of your daughter”
They’d cried in each other’s arms until they felt the whole world would stop spinning at any moment. They’d almost wished it had.
The next few months were to become a whole new world of unchartered territory - a terrifying concoction of grief, guilt, and excruciating anger that consumed every cell of the pair.
Eventually, with the help of a bereavement councilor, supportive family members, and a pharmacy full of prescription drugs, the couple found their peace…for Daniel at least.
Ana had taken a little while longer, a lot longer in fact. This however, had been acceptable according to others.
Time is a great healer.
He was sick to the back teeth of hearing those fucking words.
Time was all he had ever given his wife. Days had turned into weeks, that’d eventually turned into exactly twelve months later. A woman sat lifelessly before the dinner table, seeming only to exist on the very air she breathed.
Daniel loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and crossed to the table where his wife still sat motionless.
He thought about shaking her shoulder, pulling her round to face him, to look into her eyes and plead with her, but instead he walked silently past as he always did.
As he made his way up the staircase. He knew she would sit there listening to the rhythmic ticking of the cuckoo clock till the early hours of the morning.
Rick Casket took a long hard drag on his joint, before blowing out a long hazy stream of smoke in the direction of his companion.
“Fuck off Casket” his friend grunted as he took a puff on his own spliff.
Casket chuckled and leant forward to take a handful of salted peanuts that sat in an opened bag on the coffee table.
“So what’s the deal with tomorrow?’ he asked stuffing a handful of nuts into his mouth.
Nate Morgan shrugged, “Dunno, thought you were meeting cock face?”
“Supposed to be but doubt the cunt will turn up. He always says he’ll meet me, but then makes a no show”
Morgan nodded, “Sounds about right”
The pair took another drag of their joints simultaneously.
“So when was the last time he delivered?” Morgan enquired.
Casket sank back into the threadbare sofa and smiled broadly exposing a yellow tinged grin.
“Last week as it happens”
Rick Casket opened his eyes and tried hard to focus on his friend.
“Oh yeah, she was a real corker!”
His companion sat forward, more alert now. He took another draw on his joint and cast his own gummy smile.
“Young enough to get your package hard”
His companion threw his head back with a howl of laughter almost knocking the tip of his ash onto the floor, and sank back into the sofa.
“You gotta meet cock head tomorrow man. I just gotta see what he got for us!”
Casket smiled and drew hard on the last of his burning ember.
“Oh I will mate, I will”