Claire Bowman finished off filing her nails before painting
them a glorious deep red colour. Working here at ‘Liasons A L’amor’, a dating,
no, Claire corrected herself, an introduction agency was a dawdle. The boss
Ffiona Tudor was never there and always, contacted Claire by phone to check
‘how things were going’. Usually the day consisted of handing client’s details
to other clients to allow them to meet and possibly allow Cupid to do his work.
Claire stretched herself like a cat. Mmmm, she thought, out partying with Tommy
this weekend. Booze and his body, what a combination. The bell above the door
gave a tinkle as someone came in, Claire looked up lazily and was instantly
shaken out of her somnolence. It was that bloody woman again!
Mrs. Jennifer Holmes approached Claire’s desk. “No, that one
you set me up with last night was the end!” she said belligerently. “He was a
bloody railway enthusiast! If I had wanted to know the stations on every main
line in Great Britain ,
I could have bought a train timetable! What else have you got?”
Claire sighed and looking Jennifer directly in the eyes
said, “You have worked your way through all our clientele Mrs. Holmes. There is
nobody else.”
“Well,” said Jennifer screwing her face up, “if you call
footballers, golfers, lawyers and now, train spotters, you’re entire
collection, then I’d better just try some other agency!”
Yes please, thought Claire, possibly in some other country
or even planet perhaps?
“I will have another look Mrs. Holmes, but I am sure you
have exhausted Ffiona’s list…” then Claire paused. There was another list but
it only had one name on it and was kept separate from the other one. Claire
knew that the single name was Craig Bireham and he was a very special case!
“Give me a moment Mrs. Holmes, I’ll check in this drawer.” As Claire pulled
open the drawer that had a large red cross on the outside, she paused unsure as
to whether to release the genie from the bottle. For it was a very evil genie.
Craig Bireham had come onto their books a year ago when another
‘introduction’ agency had gone bankrupt. Ffiona, always after a good deal, had
bought their client’s names and addresses and after contacting everyone
concerned, had made a large number of successful matches, apart from one –
Craig Bireham. On his first meeting Mr Bireham had been overbearing, bullying
and the lady in question, had under pretence, left him in the restaurant that
they had met in, half way through the meal. “He scared me. ” the woman had said when questioned.
Another client had been given Mr Bireham’s address and after setting up a
meeting had failed to turn up, for the lady had said “He gave off an atmosphere
of threat to my well being.” She had watched from cover and had slipped
unnoticed away. This was why Mr. Bireham’s details were kept separate. He was
no asset, but Ffiona, for some unknown reason would not erase him from her
records.
“There is this one, Mrs. Holmes,” Claire said as she pulled
Craig’s details from the drawer. “A Mr. Craig Bireham. He lives at No. 67, Pallance Road in Wotley.
Telephone number 23898.”
Jennifer took the card and looked at it. “Seem’s ok. Can you
give him a call for me, please?”
“Now Mrs. Holmes, you know that it is your responsibility to
contact Mr Bireham, to allow him the chance of refusal, should he decide?”
Claire said testily.
“Yes, I know, but it’s just that my telephone is out of
order at present. Won’t you do this for me, please?” Jennifer lied nicely.
Claire reached for the telephone. Anything to get this woman
out of the office, she thought.
The phone rang and rang at the other end and just when
Claire thought that no one was in, a grumpy sleep filled voice said, “Who is
this?”
“Is that Mr. Craig Bireham?”
asked Claire putting on her professional voice>
“Who did you expect, Santa Claus?” replied the voice
angrily. “You woke me! What is this PPI or are you offering me a new kitchen?
Listen… I’m not interested. Don’t ring again!”
Just before the receiver had left his ear, Claire expertly
replied, “This is the ‘Liasons A L’amor’ agency, Mr Bireham. Are you still
interested in meeting a lady?” As she said lady, Claire felt her eyebrows going
up. Some lady, she thought, it seemed that they maybe made for each other.
“Well, yes…I have had to wait so long; I thought that I had
been dropped from your records!”
“Just looking for the right person for you Mr. Bireham,”
Claire purred.
“Ok then. When do we meet?” Craig Bireham suddenly sounded
awake and interested.
The ‘Horn and Whistle’ public house was not somewhere
Jennifer would be seen dead, going into. A typical man’s drinking den,bound to
be sawdust on the floor and spittoons full of unmentionable liquids. The choice
of beers would be limited, but for the clientele, as long as it gave the
drinker some inner peace for a short time – it was heaven.
Jennifer had worn her black dress and had pulled her bra
tight giving her bosom a prominence. Craig was late as Jennifer had expected,
but well, some things never changed.
A taxi pulled up and a large man got out. He stuffed some
banknotes through the taxi driver’s window and grunted, “Keep the change!”
Rising to his full height, Jennifer saw that he was at least six feet tall and
sported a ‘beer belly’.
“You, Jennifer Holmes?” Craig asked, his eyes mentally
stripping her and finding her interesting.
“Yes, you must be Craig Bireham. How do you do?” replied
Jennifer sticking her diminutive hand out to be engulfed by his meaty paw.
“Thank you for the offer of an evening out with you.”
Craig gave a short gruff laugh and dropped her hand, “Let’s
see how it goes, eh?”
The interior of the pub came up, or rather down to
Jennifer’s expectations. Although smoking was now forbidden in the pub by law,
a cloud of smoke managed to enter the pub each time the door was opened. Men
looked up from their drinks and watched Jennifer, but averted their eyes when
they saw the gigantic presence of her partner.
“We’ll sit here,” grunted Craig, pulling a chair out and
plonking himself down. Jennifer stood for a moment and then pulled a chair out
for herself, first brushing some crumbs from the seat before sitting down.
“Mine’s a pint of beer,” growled Craig watching a nubile
female customer moving to the door. “Grrr! She’s a looker!”
“You would like me to get you a drink?” Jennifer asked
quietly.
“Yes! I’ll get the next one,” he said returning to surveying
the interior of the pub.
As the night progressed, Craig had Jennifer get the drinks
in for them. He would occasionally dip into his pocket and produce some greasy
looking banknotes intermittently to pay for the odd round, but apart from trips
to the Gents to relieve himself, Craig sat slumped in his chair the whole
evening, served by Jennifer.
By closing time Craig was very happy. He obviously could
hold his drink, but his mood had changed from one of a master to his underling
to one of a master to his dog.
“Go and get us a taxi,” Craig ordered, pointing out a
telephone by the bar, to Jennifer. “You’ll be coming back to mine for a
nightcap. Wont you?”
“Well it’s late…” Jennifer began to say, but Craig
interrupted her.
“That wasn’t an invitation. You’re coming back to my place
for a nightcap. Ok?”
The taxi drive to Wotley was a nightmare for Jennifer. Craig
was all over her, trying to kiss her, putting his hand up her skirt and
generally behaving like an animal.
“Look, it’s not very private here. Wait till we get back to
your place, then I’ll show you a thing or two,” Jennifer pleaded in an attempt
to pacify him. It did have the required effect and Craig sunk into a alcoholic
sleep and began snoring.
“Listen, Miss,” said the kindly taxi driver. “Just say the
word and I’ll stop off at the police station and get this guy locked up. You’re
too good for the likes of him!”
Jennifer assured the driver that she would be alright, but
thanked him for his concern. As they arrived at Wotley and Craig struggled out
of the taxi and went off up the path to his house leaving Jennifer to pay the
fare, the driver reiterated his concern.
“Watch out for him, Miss.
I think he is one of those people who get nasty when they drink!”
Jennifer thanked him again and added a little extra to the
fare. “Something for yourself,” she whispered and watched as the driver got
into his cab and drove off down the road.
As Jennifer stepped through the front door she looked about
her. The inside of the house mirrored Craig, untidy, dusty and dark.
“Get in here. I’m waiting for you!” a voice from down a long
passage, commanded.
Jennifer gave a deep sigh and made her way to the room. It
was as she expected – the bedroom. She could see wallpaper peeling off the wall
and above the bed the predictable nude painting of a woman.
“Now!” grunted Craig, pulling his trousers down. “Show us a
bit of what you promised in the taxi!”
The following half an hour began with Craig literally
stripping Jennifer of her clothes and after throwing her on the bed commenced
what could only be described as rape.
After Craig had attained his pleasure he got up and began to
dress.
“Alright, slag. Now get out!” he spat at her.
Jennifer lay naked and used on the bed. She felt as if she
had done battle with a large gorilla. “What about planning a future date?” she
asked facetiously.
“Nah, love. The fact is, I don’t really fancy you,” he said
with a evil grin on his face.
The proboscis that suddenly shot from Jennifer’s lower body
caught Craig totally unawares. It plunged into his gut and began pumping poison
into his body.
“What…the…!” he shrieked as he saw Jennifer’s body begin to
change.
The white skin of her body became dark chitin and sprouted
black hairs. Her eyes disappeared to be replaced by two multi faceted bulges in
her head. Then her legs and arms expanded and joined another two pairs that
sprouted from her body. Gradually the eight appendages darkened and became
hirsute.
“We have been watching Earth for many years,” the thing that
had been Jennifer sibilantly whispered. “Our planet is dying and we need to
move to somewhere nearer to our natural habitat, that is why we looked towards
your world”
Craig’s vision was fading and he felt the venom circulating
through his body. “But…why...?”
“I am the Queen of our dying race and it is my duty to
restore hope and order to my world. Our race sadly is a peaceful, non warring
civilisation and we had long ago put aside all things that were harmful to
others. We exist in a utopia, where any dispute is solved by discussion and no
creature wishes to own more than its share.
I have been trawling through as many males on this planet,
to find those of you who live by inciting fear, who enjoy disharmony, who revel
in bullying those weaker than yourself. This is the aggression that my race has
lost the path to, but if we are to conquer your world we must attack and
subjugate. We understand that we could not peacefully co-exist with you. We
know of your natural revulsion to insects, especially our look a like brethren,
the spiders.”
Craig fell to the floor and his legs began to twitch. He
knew that he was dying, but still could not fathom out his part in this
pantomime.
“I have been with many men of your type and being the queen
of my species, can carry many samples of your seed within me. Soon I will
return home and our scientists will isolate the factor that makes your type as
it is, then we will return!” the creature shrieked as it scuttled from the
bedroom, leaving a fast disappearing Craig. His flesh was drying and beginning
to flake off. He somehow knew that his brain would be the last to disintegrate,
thus allowing him the full horror of his dissemination.
Jennifer paused before she opened the front door. The arachnid
look had transformed back to human form and she looked about her before turning
the handle. As the door swung open, a cold breeze rushed in and down the hall,
before entering the bedroom where it playfully lifted the remains of Craig
Bireham into the air and completed his dissolution.
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