The Straight Road / 5

Down, down, down the Straight Road they go . The continuing serialisation of a tale from the dark heart of London by Johny Brown

Chapter 5  The cold chill  months of  November/December. Kerene and Dave are all sexed up and horror show antics await . cov11aNOVEMBER

Kerene and Dave arrived back from the hotel via an impulsive detour to Las Vegas for more max-hotel-ity involving gambling champagne and table-dancers. They dumped their suitcases in the hall and slumped on the sofa to watch Britain’s Got Talent; there are some things the American’s just can’t do like the Brits. Dave had cultivated a slight belly on his vacation.

That belly had a thirst on too and he sent Susan to the fridge in search of a can of Fosters. Luckily there was one lurking at the back behind some discarded wholefood and he was able to crack the can open with an appreciative pre gulp belch. It was pucker to be home and a good thing too because there was much business to attend to, and attend to fast.

For the bills had arrived. There was much gnashing of teeth from certain quarters of the household, a withering look of disdain emanating from another. Dave broached sensitive subjects pertaining to lifestyle choices with Kerene and they eventually both agreed that changes would have to be made if they were to proceed in life together. He would have to learn to enjoy their wealth.

Dave had thrown away his Crafted English Apparel and replaced it with more manly sports brands like Stone Island and Polo. Kerene had bought him a Sky subscription for his birthday and he began taking a keen interest in the game of football, particularly the team of Chelsea FC who were intent on dominating Europe again. What had he been missing all these years?

DECEMBER

They moved to a spacious penthouse on City Road in what was now a good school catchment area. Dave and Kerene had started talking babies. How many they would have, what they would dress them in, what kind of diet they would put them on, what computer games they could or could not play; that kind of thing. Susan could be trained into a good enough nanny they were sure.

The rooftop was vast and all theirs and soon stables and an aviary were added to a sky garden that featured well-appointed lawn and shrubs. Overseas investors were their neighbours so they had the luxury of the tower to themselves. Happy days. Sorted nights. Dave spent a lot of time at work. When he got home he would eat whatever Susan put in front of him and then go and practice the child-making thing with Kerene. He enjoyed this immensely. It wasn’t long before they conceived.

Susan had enough money to feed him in the manner Fury was accustomed to whilst he was gone.

Kerene spent the fortnight of his absence lounging on her sun bed, watching FTV, drinking champagne, swallowing Xanax, attending to her nails, texting friends, taking instagram photos of skyline sunsets, listening to Spotify, and all them chill kind of pre-loved things where she felt fully in the flow of the fluid moment even though she was practicing the art of static and was still.

She felt a moment arrive. all creature blood dripping down, on to the sexy baby pink towelling diamante studded jogging top that showed off her silicone enchantments so well, so well, so well.

So well it always made poor Dave’s head explode with the thought of all that frisson and made him just want to spend; spend money, spend money spend some more money. Down the stairs Kerene went and like she’d seen in movies she placed Tyson’s head on the plump comforting Liberty bought pillows of the great big room dominating bed.

The bed where they’d rutted awhile ago before, the husband thinking of love and passion, herself projecting fashion and money, and him never to understand that at all, or maybe having an inkling, but preferring not to dwell too much on the philosophical or existential element of their relationship, him being far too preoccupied with her new tits as they were.

Anyway she placed the skull of the child on the crest of the pillow and dark fluid seeped on to rich white Egyptian cotton bringing a macabre feel to the modern furnishings. Kerene shook the excess blood off her hands and examined herself in the mirror, she looked good. She turned to walk down the stairs and greet her husband, who was at that very moment walking out of the lift.

See what a nasty vicious child-hating sister you have husband? She has chopped off the head of Tyson Fury and even now that bloody head lies on the pillow in the bed where we did the sacred sexed up thing, blood ruining the sheets and raining down on to the shag of the pile of the swirl of the carpet. You won’t be happy whatsoever.

Dave gave their bedroom the once over. Kerene shook tits and waited for Dave’s rage thing to come. She had the gun to hand for the moment he would want to shoot Susan. Perhaps he  might wish to merely strangle her. Whichever method he chose Kerene would stand loyal by his side and capture the moment for posterity on phone. Dave had other things on his mind though.

 

‘Christ, it took an age to get back, the taxi driver only had to pick out a bloody cyclist from under his wheels, I felt really sorry for him too, nice guy, been driving a cab for thirty years and this was his first dead bike, fucking major inconvenience. If I’d had a gun I would have shot the two wheeled bit of peddle vermin myself. Child head in the bed you said, OK…

 

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