Monthly Online Book Review and Listings Magazine ~ May 2009

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THE  UNINVITED  GUEST

by Phyllis Owen

  It was early morning, just after seven.  I walked to the front door to check whether Jack, my husband, and myself should wear a coat or a jacket on our usual walk.  As I opened the door I almost fell over as a wild-looking young man pushed it open, came inside, and slammed the door shut.

  Before I had time to talk he waved a gun at me.  “Get into the lounge,” he hissed.

  Just then Jack came down the stairs.  “What’s going on?” he demanded.  “What are you doing in my house?”

  “You’d better join your wife if you know what’s good for you,” the young man hissed, waving the gun at him.  He had a chilling tone in his voice.

  “Better do as he says,” I warned, as we both walked into the lounge and sat down on the couch.

  He was big and powerful this young man with crinkly brown hair and eyes almost black, and they were smouldering.   I groaned and closed my eyes for a moment.  It was like something out of a bad film.  I glanced across at Jack.  His face was a picture of disgust.  I hope he keeps his cool because he doesn’t suffer fools lightly and that young man is in panic mode.

  He pointed the gun at me.    His face was like a threatening thunderstorm.  “Make me something to eat.”

  “Please isn’t a swear word,” Jack mumbled.

  “If you try to get away I’ll kill him.”  He waved the gun at Jack, adding, “and that’s no idle threat.”

  “I know that,” I mumbled.  He looked pretty desperate and I was sure he would use the gun.   I was scared and gave Jack a quick look.  Our eyes met.  He nodded.  A feeling of relief passed over me when I realised he intended to play along.   I walked into the kitchen, took out the bread from the fridge together with the butter and a packet of sliced ham and began to make the sandwiches.  My mind began working overtime.  I tried to think of something I could do to try to alert the police.  I bit my lip thoughtfully.  Then an idea struck me with the force of a hammer between my eyes.  It was so simple.  Email!  I could send my daughter an email to contact the police.  But how do I get upstairs?  I packed the sandwiches onto a large plate.  As an afterthought I unlocked the kitchen door and then carried the plate of sandwiches into the lounge, handing it to him.

  He put the plate on his lap and with his right hand pointed the gun at Jack, using his left hand to eat the sandwiches. 

   I must get to the computer.  “Please, can I go upstairs?  I have some work that desperately needs doing,” I pleaded, trying to sound calm.  “Also, I have to go to the loo.  We don’t have one downstairs.”

  He stared suspiciously at me.  “You stay where you are,” he grunted.

  “Let her go,” Jack put in.  “You’ve got me for a hostage.  What can she do upstairs? Jump out of the window and kill herself?”

  The man looked thoughtful before snarling, “Where’s your phone?”

  “There’s one on the table beside you,” I told him, “and one upstairs.”

  “Are they connected.”

  “Yes, they are on one line,” Jack came in.

  The man half turned, lifted the phone from the cradle and dropped it on the floor.  “Go, but don’t be long.”

  I rushed from the lounge and hurried up the stairs straight into my study.  Switching on the computer I waited anxiously for it to come on, my heart beating fit to burst.  At last I could double click on the AOL icon, catching my breath when I heard a movement downstairs.  Rushing across the room I gently closed the door so he wouldn’t hear the dialing sounds.  Luckily I had a second phone line especially for the internet.  I waited for the connection and clicked on ‘Write’.

  I quickly typed in Christine’s email address.

  Shouting came from the lounge.  I ran to the door and listened.

  “Okay!  Okay!” I heard Jack yell.  “I only asked.”

  I left the door open and ran back to the computer.  I typed, “Please phone police.  Man with gun in our home.  No marked cars, no sirens.  Left kitchen door open.”

  I waited and listened.  The man was talking.  Couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  I clicked on ‘send now’ and in seconds the message was transmitted.

  Heard shouting and footsteps coming up the stairs.  “Hurry,” the man demanded.

  My skin began to crawl.  As the screen changed I was able to click on to personal filing cabinet and delete my message.  I quickly logged off and closed the AOL page, double clicking on ‘My Documents’, just as Jack and the man came through the door.

  “What you doing?  Sending a message?”  He pressed the gun into my stomach.

  “Hey, be careful there,” Jack shouted.  “That thing can go off.”  He ignored Jack.

    “I’m not sending any message,” I insisted.   My skin started to crawl at my lie. 

  “You’re lying,” he snarled.

   “Try it out yourself if you don’t believe me.”

    With eyes wild, he snapped, “I don’t play on that rubbish.”

    I almost collapsed with relief as I realised he wasn’t computer literate.  “Please take the gun out of my stomach,” I pleaded and stood up.

    “Move!”  He pushed me towards the door.

    “Hold on!  She’s an elderly woman.” Jack came and put his arm around my waist. 

      We made our way downstairs and back to the lounge.  I looked at my watch.  Only eight-thirty!   Hope Christine reads her emails early.

   “Call a taxi,” Jack suggested.  “I’ll pay.”

   “You think I’m a fool?  Now shut up.”

     I hid a smile.  Clever thinking, Jack. 

     All was silent.  I thought back to my e-mail and wondered if Christine had received the message.  I glanced at my watch.  A quarter to nine!  Time usually flies but not today.  I looked out of the window.  “Look Jack, the two squirrels are on the lawn!”

  “Shut up!”

    Just then there was a clanging at the front door.  He jumped up waving the gun around, his eyes wild. 

  “It’s just the postman,” Jack came in.  “Pushing our mail through the letter box.”

   He grunted and sat down.  I looked across at Jack.  He lay back on the chair, eyes closed.   We’ll just have to sit this one out if we wanted to stay alive.

  A few minutes later, “Coffee!” the man snarled, adding, “Milk and four sugars.”

  Four sugars!   He’s not sweet enough.  Standing up, I glanced at Jack.  I could see he was irritated.  “Could you do with a cuppa, Jack?”   He nodded.

  “All right!  All right, get a move on,” the man snapped. 

   I could feel his eyes following me as I walked into the kitchen.  I switched on the kettle.  Looking at my watch I groaned.  “Nine o’clock!”  Christine, open your files. 

  I put three cups and saucers on the tray, adding coffee, sugar and milk then the boiling water.  Picking up the tray, I was about to walk out of the kitchen when I saw a shadow at the door.  My heart thumped.  The door opened and two men slipped silently in.  They held up their police identity documents and motioned to me to leave.

  I felt the familiar endorphin rush of relief and walked into the lounge.  My hands were shaking as I handed out the coffee, some of it spilling into the saucers.

  “Be careful, old woman,” the man snarled.

  Just then the two policemen rushed in.  Before the man knew what was happening they had grabbed him and taken away the gun.  The cup of coffee fell to the floor.  It was as though everything was happening in slow motion.  Jack burst out laughing.  “So you did manage to get a message out.”

  I smiled.  “Not just a pretty face!”

  One of the policemen chuckled, then exclaimed, “Dennis!  We’ve been looking all over for you.  Your mother’s really worried.”

  I looked at him in surprise.

  “I’m not going back,” Dennis replied, sulkily, just like a young school boy.

  What a transformation!

  “Dennis has a mental problem,” explained the policeman.  “He escaped from the Institution down the road.  There’s been a full scale search for him.  He’s not really dangerous, but he could hurt someone if they got in his way.”

  “I can believe that,” I muttered.  “And the gun?” I queried.

  The policeman laughed, holding it up.  “It’s a toy, a realistic one at that.”

   Dennis was handcuffed and led to the car.

  Once they had left Jack and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

   “I’ll just call Christine to let her know all’s well, then can we go for a walk?” I asked.

    He nodded.

                                                                 The end

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