Poor Emmet

Jamille Enderson was looking into her own future. A future without her husband Emmet. Poor Emmet, after all of his successful years, including fourteen years in the marines, it would, ultimately, be a boating accident that took him from the world, and from Jamille.1

At thirty-eight, Jamille was in excellent shape. In fact, she could hardly go anywhere without attracting male attention. They would stare shamelessly and hit on her without remorse. But, she had never once slept with another man other than her Emmet. Her poor Emmet.2

Jamille had to stop looking into her future and start looking at the motorway, in doing so realising she was, once again, crying. You see, Jamille was on her way to lunch with a man. Geoff, he was called. Jamille had not had lunch with any man other than Emmet for twenty years. But she had to do it. She had to put this part of her life behind her and move on.3

Jamille had met Geoff at one of Emmet’s boat parties a week before he would die. Emmet was always having boat parties. He loved to have fun and enjoy life. Poor Emmet. But Geoff seemed all right. He was friendly enough, though he did spend a lot of time talking about business. But, Jamille had agreed to meet him for lunch. Maybe it was a relief to her that Geoff was mostly interested in business and not pleasure. “Business is my pleasure!” he would say. Oh well, it was only lunch.4

She pulled onto the hard shoulder and stopped. She was crying again. Tears were streaking down her face with no regret, destroying her mascara on the way. Oh get a hold of yourself, she thought. When she got back into the car, she took out some wipes and cleared the mess, then re-applied her mascara. Good as new. Right. Time to move on.5

Jamille got to Rory’s Fish Bar a half an hour earlier than she had planned to meet Geoff. She wanted to get some shopping. So, leaving her car in the Fish Bar car park, she wandered off to a shop she’d seen on her way into the village. Shopping always took her mind off things.6

Andrew Mackenzie sat watching Jamille Enderson from his seat. He could see her very clearly, but she couldn’t see him. He wondered if she was really ready for this lunch. He knew that it was a “moving on” tactic. She had been blatantly open with him about it when he suggested lunch in the first place. “I need to move on.” Oh well, Andrew thought. He was the best at helping people “move on”.7

He took one last look at Jamille before returning to his notes. His name was Geoff for today. What a manly name. He laughed coldly to himself. Jesus, he thought, what a bad boy I am.8

Jamille was sat at the table closest to the door when Geoff walked in. He saw her straight away, smiled and sat down. He was wearing a chequered blue shirt and black jeans. She was surprised to see he was very handsome. In his suit, he looked a little too much like a businessman.9

“Hi,” She said,10

“How do, nice day,” he pointed out of the window.11

Jamille had already bought him a coffee, but when he sat down the waitress walked over asking what they would like to eat.12

“Oh nothing thanks,” Jamille said a little too quickly.13

“Wow, you want to move fast,” Geoff replied with a funny look in his eye. It made Jamille feel a little sick.14

“Well, surely…with things like this…shouldn’t waste time…” She could feel the tears coming again.15

“Shall we take a walk down to the harbour?” Geoff said.16

Jamille was reluctant, but went along with it. They left the bar and walked, in silence, to a particularly obscure part of the boat harbour.17

“Money,” he said. Simply the one word.18

Jamille handed over one hundred thousand pounds in cash, in a large envelope. Job done. Then she pulled out the binoculars she had bought when she went shopping and peered through them out past the harbour. When she saw Emmet and his prostitute bitch of a girlfriend sat out on the deck of his boat, drinking wine, her resolve stiffened. You see, Emmet loved his boat parties. He loved to have fun. Jamille hadn’t slept with any other man since she was eighteen, but this bastard had been having ‘parties’ with prostitutes! So she had called and hired Geoff a week ago. To kill her husband.19

“It’s the one out the far end with the red painted wings on the side,” She pointed out, then said: “I know it has to look like an accident. But….Make it unbelievably painful. Please.”20

Poor Emmet.21