Killer Couples. Tammy Cohen

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СКАЧАТЬ Jaspal that he’d met while working for the Ministry of Defence in London. Jaspal’s strictly religious family had never approved of him, he’d told her. Neither had they liked the fact that the couple left the MoD to run pubs. That’s why they’d ended up coming back to Swansea, Stephen’s home town.

      Of course, when he was telling this story to Rebecca, Stephen left out the part about Jaspal being fed up with him flirting with all the female customers and the girls working behind the bar. And how being around alcohol all the time caused his drinking, always prodigious, to get completely out of control. But then, as Rebecca would learn for herself, Stephen Marsh was very proficient at manipulating the truth when it suited him.

      At first when they’d made love, Stephen had been a caring and affectionate lover. Invariably it had happened at the smart house he shared with Jaspal on an executive housing estate in Gorseinon, West Swansea, on the site of an old colliery. Understandably, Rebecca had been nervous at the beginning. Even though Jaspal had a demanding job at an insurance company in the city centre which kept her out of the house for long hours, the place still bore another woman’s stamp. When the Marsh’s old dog, Bwbach, gazed up at her, Rebecca couldn’t help detecting a touch of reproach in her big brown eyes. No wonder she had found it hard to relax, jumping every time she heard a car door slam outside. But Stephen was so sexy and so full of confidence that nothing would go wrong that Rebecca soon lost her initial nerves and began to enjoy their sessions.

      It felt so good to have a younger lover again, someone whose lithe, taut body and sexual stamina more than matched her own. She loved looking at him naked, devouring him with her eyes so that she could recreate every detail in her fantasies when she was once again back home with Ron.

      But rapidly, Stephen’s sexual demands began to change. He became rougher in bed, less focused on her and more on his own pleasure. He started calling her a whore and asking her to dress up in fetishistic clothing. Sometimes he’d even slap her about. But then in the next breath, he’d be so loving, so tender that Rebecca would feel as if her insides were melting. Anyway, by that stage, she was in love and determined to do everything she could to keep her man and make him happy.

      So she bought a whole selection of black fetishist-style underwear, which she’d cram into a bag and bring into work on the days when she knew she was meeting up with Stephen. And she repeated back the words he wanted to hear. ‘I’m a whore,’ she’d groan, knowing how it turned him on.

      At first, though, when he’d brought up the subject of using a knife during sex, she refused to listen.

      ‘You want me to do what?’ she’d shrieked, unable to believe what she’d just heard.

      ‘I want you to cut me. Just a little bit,’ he’d repeated. ‘Then you lick up the blood. Don’t worry, it’s nice,’ he’d assured her, seeing her disgusted expression. ‘It’s a real turn-on, you’ll see.’

      ‘No way!’ had been her initial response. But, as with so many things, when he’d persevered enough, she’d eventually given in. There was just something about Stephen that made women want to do what he said, even when it went against everything they’d previously thought about themselves. He was that kind of guy.

      To her surprise, Rebecca found herself not only using the knife on Stephen, but letting him do it to her as well. The first time she’d been terrified, and then angry. He’d promised only to cut her once, but then he’d launched into a kind of frenzy, slicing the blade across her skin, again and again.

      ‘I’m not doing that again!’ she fumed. But of course she had – she never could deny him anything for long. And he was right. It was a turn-on. Well, it was a turn-on for her to see how turned-on he was getting! Bizarrely, considering she was trussed up and it was her own blood that was trickling down her thighs, it gave her a feeling of power to witness his mounting excitement and to know that it was all because of her. It was just more proof, she decided, of how much they loved each other. If only they could be together all the time; if only they didn’t both have to go home to other people at the end of the day, she thought.

      ‘We could always bump them off,’ joked Stephen, after another discussion about their respective spouses and how wonderful it would be if they didn’t exist. But when he started to bring the subject up again and again, Rebecca began to wonder whether he really was joking after all. Sometimes it was so hard to tell with Stephen.

      ‘We’ll kill Ron,’ he’d tell her, enthusiastically outlining some plan for doing away with her ageing husband. ‘Then I’ll divorce Jaz and we’ll be together.’

      But the next time she saw him he’d have changed his mind about getting divorced. Why should he give up his flash home and yuppy lifestyle? No, they’d kill Jaspal instead.

      Rebecca’s answer was always the same. ‘Stop messing about, Steve,’ she’d say, annoyed that he was wasting the precious time they had together with more of his ridiculous plans. But increasingly, Stephen wouldn’t be put off.

      ‘I thought you loved me,’ he’d snap at her, his eyes suddenly cold and devoid of any affection.

      ‘I do,’ Rebecca would stammer, desperate to see the tenderness return to his now-icy gaze.

      In the pub after work, or in the car driving home, the conversation would inevitably turn back towards the same subject. Now he’d dropped the talk of killing Ron and his focus was entirely on Jaspal – and how good life could be if she was out of the picture.

      ‘I just want us to be together,’ Stephen would say, giving her the full force of that ‘special’ look that made her forget about everything else in the world.

      Things became so intense that Rebecca would almost dread being alone with him, although, paradoxically, this was also what she most craved. Their embraces were still passionate, burning with the heat of the emotions both were having to suppress at home, but now there was an undercurrent of tension that hadn’t been there before. During their brief, but fiery relationship, Rebecca had denied Stephen nothing, but now she was holding out against him. And it was driving them apart.

      Rebecca grew desperate. By now she’d realised her marriage was over. She could never go back to being satisfied with Ron after she’d been with someone as wild and exciting as Stephen. By now, her marriage was beyond saving; she’d well and truly burned her bridges at home – and if she lost Stephen as well she’d be left with nothing. She’d only known him a few short months, but already life without him was becoming unthinkable. She had to keep his interest.

      Their love life became even more extreme. Now Stephen would slap her during sex, shoving her around roughly, and she readily went along with it, even when he filmed everything on his mobile phone. But now it wasn’t enough. Rebecca could feel Stephen slipping away.

      ‘OK, I’ll do it!’

      The words came tumbling out before she had time to register she’d said them. And it was worth it for the look on his face. Suddenly the adoration of those early days was back. He was so happy with her again, so in love. Besides, she told herself, it wasn’t as if they’d actually go through with it. Lots of people kidded around about killing off husbands or wives, but it didn’t make them murderers. Probably Stephen would forget all about it now that he’d got her to agree. He was drinking so heavily by this stage, it was hard to tell how much of what he said was coming straight from the heart and what was straight from the bottle. Maybe all along this had been some sort of test to see how much she loved him.

      But Stephen was like the proverbial dog with a bone. Now that Rebecca had said she’d help him СКАЧАТЬ