Matt Shaw: A Sting in the Tale: A Collection of Short Stories

“Can I at least have a drink of water?” Frankie asked him. Any excuse to get into the house so she could have a look into his room; a desperation to see if he was hiding anything within there. As soon as she’d asked the question — and saw the look on his face — she knew he was hiding something. She changed the subject, “Why did you tell me you were sorry?” she asked.

“What? When?”

“You sent a text to me last night. You told me you loved me and then you sent a text saying that you were sorry. Why are you sorry?”

Shaun looked over his shoulder, back towards the house, and then turned his attention back to Frankie, “Look — I’m sorry — I’m really late. I have to go.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not…”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Frankie was getting desperate. She knew he was up to no good. If he didn’t love her, or if he was seeing someone else… She just wanted to know. If this was the end of their relationship she felt she deserved to know at least, instead of being kept in the dark about it. “Are you seeing someone else?”

“What? No. I’m not!”

His face flushed. Frankie’s eyes welled up once more as she started to realise her worst fears were starting to come true; her man, this guy she loved, was most likely seeing someone else.

“Where were you yesterday?” Frankie pushed for an answer.

“Please — can we talk about this later?”

“Answer me! Where were you?”

No one had answered her Facebook status yesterday so — unless they were hiding it too — not even his friends had known where he was.

“I was busy,” he said. “I was working.”

“All through the night?” She pushed him again, “Who were you with?”

“Please. Just go. You can’t be here!” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re done. We’re over,” he suddenly snapped.

“What?” Frankie burst into tears. She had suspected something was wrong but she hadn’t expected him to be so cold about it. One minute he was trying to hide it, still saying he loved her and then the next — it was over. Just like that. She didn’t move. She just stood there, in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. A tear spilled from his eye too. “Please — you have to go.”

Frankie just stood there a moment unsure of what to say. Her mind felt split into a million bits. Part of her wanted to slap him in the face, part of her wanted to rant and rave at him and then there was another part which just wanted to keep standing there — crying.

“So that’s it?” she said eventually.

“Yes. Just go. We’re done,” he said — another tear spilling from his eye.

Frankie went to say something but realised there was little point. She didn’t even know what was going to come from her mouth; whether she was going to start shouting at him or even begging. She turned to the car and climbed in — slamming the door shut. She slid the key into the ignition and fired the engine up before giving Shaun a final look.

He mouthed, I love you, to her.

Frankie couldn’t help but feel confused. One minute he was telling her to go and the next — he was standing there mouthing that. She wound down her window to see if he’d say it out loud — as opposed to just mouthing it to her. She looked up at him, desperation in her eyes to hear him say the words — even if it were to be for the last time.

She froze.

There, standing in the doorway of his home, was a woman who looked a few years older than both Shaun and Frankie. She was wearing nothing but one of his tee-shirts.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frankie hissed.

“Please. You need to go. Now!”

Frankie went to open the car door but Shaun kept it shut, pushing his body against it.

“Let me out of the fucking car!” Frankie screamed. Her tears now tears of anger instead of heartache and sadness.

“I can’t do that. Just go already. Take the hint and fuck off!” he yelled at her.

Frankie crawled across to the passenger side of the car and climbed out via that door. She ran around the front of the car and was blocked from going further by Shaun wrapping his arms around her. The woman — the stranger — in the doorway was laughing at her, revelling in the pain she was causing.

“I’m sorry,” Shaun kept saying, “I didn’t want you finding out like this. You have to go.”

“Not until you tell me who she is!” Frankie screamed.

Shaun man-handled Frankie back into her car and slammed the door shut again — despite her screams. Neighbours were poking their heads out of their own homes now, looking to see what the commotion was all about.

“Just believe me when I say I love you. I can’t be with you though. I’m sorry. Just go.”

“Fuck you!” Frankie shouted through the car window as she threw her car into first gear and released the handbrake. She spun the vehicle around at the end of the road and headed home with tears streaming, uncontrollably, down her face. Shaun was standing in the middle of the road, watching her leave his life and wishing he could tell her the truth. The woman came out of the house and put her arm around Shaun. Had Frankie looked in the rear view mirror, she’d have seen him push her away.

The woman hadn’t had a chance meeting with Shaun. It wasn’t a corny story of a man meeting another woman and falling head over heels in love with her. It was far more sinister than that. It was the story of a woman — obsessed with a lead singer in a band — who’d do anything to be with that person.

She had met him in a car park after a gig and had seemed nice enough to start off with. She was complimentary about the music. She had said he had a great voice. She explained how she was surprised he hadn’t hit the big time already and that she could see big things in his future.

“And that’s not all I can see in your future,” she had told him.

“Oh? What else is there?” he asked. He had expected an answer of ‘money’ or ‘fame’ not…

“I see me in your future.”

The woman had said it with a cheeky grin on her face and a wink of an eye. Shaun knew instantly what she was talking about and was quick to dismiss it.

“I have a girlfriend,” he had told the woman.

“Frankie Yates.”

The woman knew everything about Frankie. She knew where she lived. She knew where she worked. She knew the names of her family. She knew the names of her pets and — more particularly — she knew which pet was her favourite.

“Of course she’s not good enough for you,” the woman had continued. “Someone like you,” she explained, “can do so much better for themselves.”

Shaun walked away from the woman but she followed. He knew she was nuts. His first nutter, he actually felt a little proud. That is… Proud until he realised she was following him.

“Look,” the woman had said. She had reached into her bag and pulled a photograph out. She handed it to Shaun.

“What’s this?”

“My pussy,” she had said with a wink.

It wasn’t a rude picture that he had been shown. It was a picture of a black and white cat. It was a picture of Gizmo. Shaun would recognise that cat anywhere.

The woman explained that she had never found a pet she’d been able to get that attached to. She explained how she’d watched Frankie and seen how much she loved that cat. And then — her tone changed. She’d gone from friendly, to creepy… To nasty.

“I want you and I’m going to have you,” she had said.

“I love Frankie,” he had argued.

“And you’ll learn to love me just as much, if not more…” the woman had said. “Because if you don’t…” It was at that point the woman showed him a second photograph. It was a picture of an oven and — through the glass door — you could see Frankie’s pet cat. The woman explained that — if she couldn’t have Shaun — then Frankie couldn’t have her favourite pet, unless it was served up with some roast potatoes and side dish of vegetables… If the woman got Shaun, Frankie got to keep her pet. But — under no circumstances could she have both her pet and Shaun.