She was trembling, and she tried again to kindly persuade her husband not to go to past,
‘Well, umm, you might disturb the neighbours, at such a time in the morning, its hardly appropriate, what do you say we head off to bed, ay’, she said, improvising her way through the conversation.
‘Look dear, I don’t know what’s wrong with you today and I’m not gonna ask, you’re right about one thing though, I do need a bit of a kip, let’s go.’, he said, trying to go along with his wife, who had, in his opinion, gone mad.
She breathed a sigh of relief on listening to this, ‘Thank you dearest’, she whispered.
They went to bed, and as the wife lay half asleep, unsuspecting of her husband’s newly aroused suspicion, he crept out of bed and stealthily walked down the stairs. He walked out of the kitchen door into the garden unsuspecting of the sight that would poison his eyes, he approached the hutches, and saw them open, his heart rate stormed, his mind told him something terrible happened, but his heart tried to convince him it was a simple accident. Fletcher, usually listened to his heart, after all, it had served him well so far, but not now, now he sensed something he had never sensed before and wouldn’t sense again for a long time.
He walked slowly, keeping a spade by him, he glanced into the cold, broken hutches and saw it, saw his beloved rabbits lying on the hay, and with that, a chilling tear fell from his eyes; It splashed on the ground, and with it his compassion for his wife. With the absence of compassion, a new feeling arose, a feeling of great suspicion and mistrust. His brows lowered, and he began to storm towards the bedroom, but he slowly began to think, ‘Let’s wait a while, find out if my lass actually did it, and then play with her for a bit’, he said disturbingly, and with it a short laugh. His madness has now caused him to talk to himself.
Mr Fletcher went to work, same time as usual, and Mrs Fletcher began her plot to conceal the rabbits, not knowing that her husband had already seen them, she began cleaning up the hatches, picking up the corpses and replacing the blood soaked hay. All this, and she didn’t notice that her neighbour, Mrs.Sykes was watching her, terrified at what she saw. She shouted, ‘Mrs.Fletcher!, what in God’s name are you doing?’. With that, a strong tremor ran through the whole of Mrs.Fletcher’s body, and she turned around and walked up to Mrs.Sykes,
‘Oh it was terrible Mrs.Sykes, those damned foxes, oh, Fletcher will be so disappointed, I was ‘opin that you wouldn’t tell him, that you would, not to be rude, but, keep away from him, ignore him almost, could you do that for me Mrs.Sykes?’ she tried to persuade her kindly, but it was frightening for Mrs.Sykes, because Mrs.Fletcher was acting rather strangely.
‘I don’t what you’re bloody up to Mrs.Fletcher, and whatever it is, I don’t want to get involved, so I’ll do as you say, but, if I see one dodgy thing, it straight to ur usband!’ She was frightened, she couldn’t understand what was going on, and frankly, she didn’t want to.
Mrs.Sykes went into her house, and Mrs.Fletcher disposed of the rabbits. It was still the morning time, and Mrs.Fletcher was thinking about whether or not she should go to the local farm to find some new rabbits. She decided that would be a good idea, so an hour later, she returned with the new rabbits and put them into the hutches. At this time she was feeling secure that she had done the right thing and that everything was going to be fine as long as Fletcher didn’t find out.
She made lunch for when Fletcher came home, and tried to calm her self down by listening to the wireless. Fletcher walked in, tired from work, his eyes still scarred from the last night’s experience.
‘Do you wanna go check on the rabbits, together? I saw them earlier, but maybe you wanna see them again,’ she said, trying to make up for yesterdays confusion with the rabbits.
Fletcher, began to get confused, but then the terrible truth dawned on him, and his once handsome face went dark with rage and hateful sorrow.
‘No, dear, I might see them later’, he replied, trying to keep his rage in, but he couldn’t, not then and not ever,
‘You dirty cow, you lying, deceitful bitch! How dare you lie to me!’ he shouted.
‘What? Fletcher, what’s wrong, what’s the matter?’ She was terrified
‘You killed em, didn’t ya! DIDN’T YA! ANSWER ME, THAT’S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO!’ he screamed
‘YES! YES! I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do, please…!’ tears ran down her face.
‘I HATE YOU, AND IF I EVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN, IT’LL BE TOO SOON, YOU’RE THE ONLY DIRTY BAGGAGE I CAN SEE AROUND HERE!’ His voice bellowed through the 2 bedroom terraced house.
With that, she ran to the bedroom, crying, screaming, Fletcher, stood, his breath hard and loud, and his heart, like thunder storm, he sat in his chair, and began to consider whether he should forgive and forget, but then he went to see the hutches, he marched to the garden, he saw the new rabbits, the new hay, the fixed hutches, his face went red, purple, black. He wanted to run out of the house and stay in the local park till he calmed down, but now, he needed to finish it, He grabbed a kitchen knife and ran upstairs into the bedroom, his fury……..
…….a scream, ‘what have I done?’
