Overstretched - Stuart G. Yates

---

Overstretched - book excerpt

Chapter One

Those first few moments, arriving so late, the weather foul, everyone tired, were bad but not as bad as they were going to be—or how awful it was going to be when it all came to an end. ‘Bad’ didn’t come anywhere close!

Snaking betweenthick trees pressing in on either side,the carheadlights managed to pick out only the first few yards of rutted gravel as the rain came down like a wall. Samantha craned her neck and forced a smile for the two girls huddled in the back seat of the big Mitsubishi. “Soon be there.” She looked across to her husband.“How much further, Steve?”

A tremendous flash, followed by a blast of thunder, caused everyone to jump and Amy, the youngest, screamed.

The big,heavy car slewed through the quagmire created by the downpour and Steve battled with the wheel, leaning into the skid. The tyres dug home, the four-wheel-drive making easy work of what could have proved a dangerous moment.

“Jesus,” he hissed, regaining control and blowing out a sigh. “What a filthy night.”

Amy was crying now and Bea, her elder sister, pulled her close. She stared at her mother and Samantha reached out her hand to grip her forearm. “We’ll be okay.”

The words stuck in her throat for Samantha Brunt felt far from okay. Life in Norwich had been good, the pace slow, Bea well settled in school, Amy making friends at playgroup. The future seemed secure,then Rob entered her life, and her body at every opportunity. She didn’t think she’d been looking for an escape but clearly, she was, and Rob took advantage. She didn’t resist, thrilled that a man took notice of her after so many years. It was pure lust, but it gave her a new lease of life, a reason to get up in the morning.

A few months later, Steve got a new job or, more correctly, his agency relocated him. She often wondered if Steve had grown tired of her affair and requested a transfer. He knew about it, of coursehe did, but he didn’t care. He no longer noticed, no longer took the time to ask her anything. His attention as a lover was non-existent and she wondered about that. Was it her? Did she no longer light his fire? Friends told her it was all him, that he’d lost his libido – if he ever had one – and that she should find someone else. Was Rob that someone?

Steve carried on as normal, even when he found that letter. More of a note. No, any form of concern had long since faded from their life together, except for the children, the reason Steve stayed. Whatever the truth, the relocation meant they were now on the other side of the country. The new office in Chester, and their rented house in a tiny place called Stoak. The far side of the Moon.

The four-by-four bucked and jumped over the multitudinous water-filled craters, the wipers at full speed, the great arc lights making no impression, Steve’s teeth clenched in a face tight with concentration. He switched to full-beam, but the light bounced back into his eyes, the rain acting like a mirror, and he cursed, returned to dipped and leant forward over the wheel, squinting into the night.

Samantha pressed her face against the glass of the side window. Nothing but black. Like her life. Rob, during their last moments, pounding into her with all the fury of a man possessed.‘You’ll never have it better than this!’ She knew how true those words were. The need for him, the lust, unleashing an unrestrained wildness within. Always ready to satisfy her, forever hard. Utterly unlike Steve, who never so much as kissed her cheek anymore. Rob gave her everything she desired and the most wonderful part of it was his need for her. In his arms, all her self-doubt, the mind-numbing boredom of existence, the horrible sense of not being wanted by Steve slipped away and left her alive, peaceful and content. She ached when they parted and she returned to the drabness of her life. Steve, the girls, the mundane routine of waking up, preparing breakfast, seeing them off to work and school, the house empty and cold. God, how she hated it all.

The final time they’d kissed, a single tear had rolled down Rob’s cheek before he drove off into the night, the taillights searing into her brain. How long she stood and stared, she had no idea. She wanted to stay there forever, not believing it was true. But it was and now nothing but memories and thoughts of an uncertain future clogged her thoughts. Damn Steve for saying yes. Damn herself for not saying no.

The car slowed right down and came to a halt, Steve’s eyes like slits. “There’s a sign,” he said, pointing. She followed his gesture but saw nothing. He groaned.“I’ll get out.”

The wind almost took the door off its hinges; he held on, frantic, spitting,“Fuck!” before he scrambled into the night, with the rain relentless.

She shivered, turned to the girls again. They were both lying in a tight ball, holding each other, faces pressed into the comforting warmth of their thick coats. Neither moved. “It won’t be much longer.”

“You’ve said that.” Bea, anger in her voice, pulled Amy closer.

Samantha sighed and swung away as the door opened, a cold blast of air mixed with rain causing the vehicle to shake. Steve got in, breathing hard, blowing into his hands. “Jeez, it’s bloody awful out there.”

“What did the sign say?”

“Two miles.”

“We can’t arrive at a new house in this, Steve. What about the girls? They will need a hot meal after all this.”

He gaped at her. “Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do?”

“We should have left earlier.”

“Earlier? Christ, Sam, if you hadn’t spent so long saying goodbye to the whole bloody world, we could have done!”

She glared at him.“Can you stop swearing, please?” He threw a look at the girls and grunted. She blew out her breath. “We left at ten o’clock, it’s now gone eight. You missed the turn-off, Steve. You. We should have been here four hours ago!”

“So it’s my fault, as usual.”Feeling the pressure mounting, he gripped the steering wheel, breathed through his mouth, eyes closed. “We’ve got no choice. We can put on the fire, central heating maybe; it’ll be all right.”

“It will be damp and cold and we’ll all catch a chill. We should have booked into a hotel.”

“Christ, I hate the way you’re so bloody wise after the event.”

“And I hate the way you never think things through.” She crossed her arms, turned away. “Just drive the damned car. And stop swearing!”

Ramming into gear, he set off at a slow speed, mindful of the ruts and the blind curves.

Sometimelater, they drove past a pub, set back from the road, comforting orange lights sending out an inviting glow through the incessant rain. Its sign, a rider urging his mount over a broken hedgerow, swung on ancient hinges.‘The Galloper’. Samantha made a mental note of its situation, wondering if Steve even noticed. She peered into the night.

Two houses stood like dark smudges on the hillside, one much larger and imposing, the other in a small dip, shrouded in darkness. The Mitsubishi rolled up the track winding towards the entrance driveway, some way from the road. A steep climb which, despite the car’s huge engine, proved tricky in the torrent of water roaring down from the hilltop, turning the ground into a mud-slide, causing the chunky tyres to slip and fail to grip. Steve slammed on the brakes and slewed to a halt. “We’ll never make it, it’s too wet. We’ll have to walk.”

She brought both fists down hard on the dash, “Damn you, Steve! We can’t get out in this!”

He sat gulping in air, his face an ashen mask of fury.

Bea’s voice croaked out of the darkness, “Let’s go to that hotel.”

Samantha turned to her daughter, who remained rigid, her eyes black-rimmed, exhausted.“Please, Mummy. The one we passed just a minute ago. Let’s go there.”

Samantha knew the sense of it. The thought of battling through the mud, in the rain, to a freezing house, black and unknown, filled her with total dread. “Yes, darling.” She smiled, reached across and smoothed her daughter’s hair. “We will.”

Steve sighed, defeated, and pulled down hard on the wheel.

CHAPTER TWO

From his window at the very top of the house, Carson spotted the twin beams piercing the rain and watched the big four-by-four attempting to tackle the track. He chuckled to himself, picked up the binoculars, and peered through the gloom. After a moment, he managed to focus on the vehicle but found he could not pick out the details, so he gave up, went to his bed and gazed at his unread paperback. He deliberated on what to do before ‒ seized by a surge of energy ‒ he tore out of his room and took the stairs two at a time.

He found the old man in the study, bent over his writing desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose, face almost pressed into the pages of a large book. The wood crackled in the grate, music played softly in the background. Without moving he asked, “Problem?”

Carson went to the fire, rubbing his hands. “There’s a car.”

“Coming here?”

“The other house, I think. It’s stuck.”

“Ah.” The old man licked a finger and turned a page. “They’ll be our new neighbours I shouldn’t wonder. They’ve come a long way. Filthy night.”

“Should I go and see if I can help in some way?”

The old man shrugged. “Do you want to?”

“They’ll never make it up the hill, not in this. A tank would struggle.”

“And what can you do, eh?” Another page turned. “If you help them out and leave the car where it is...” His voice trailed away. “It will slide down the hill, Carson. Best if they swung around and found somewhere else to stay. Try again in the morning ... things always appear better in the daylight.”

“What about the house? Should I go and light a fire or something?”

The old man sighed loudly, pushed himself back in his chair and glared at the younger man. “Why the hell are you so bloody interested all of a sudden, eh? Like the look of her, do you?”

Carson blanched, looked down at his feet. “From the photograph you showed me, I’d say she’s bloody gorgeous.”

“Yes, I thought it might be something like that. You’re too damned predictable, that’s your problem.”

“Well what do you expect, living in this bloody place, stuck in the middle of nowhere?”

“Poor, lonely you.” He shook his head and returned to his book. “Do what the hell you like, Carson. Build them a fire, turn down the beds, welcome them with open arms and let her see what a fine physical specimen you are. You never know, she might show some interest. Women usually do.” He sniggered. “What’s the name of the current one?”

“Ellen.”

“Ah yes. Ellen. Married, isn’t she? Why do you always go for the married ones? Thrill of the chase, more of a challenge?” He ran his forefinger under a line of typescript. “I suppose I should envy you. But I don’t.”

Carson bit his lip, wanted to tell the old man to fuck off, but knew he never would. Despite his words, life here was good. He had independence, steady work, excellent pay. No ties, no responsibilities and, of course, when the old man died he’d be well looked after in the terms of the will. All in all, the future seemed bright, and as for the present, the chance for some extra-curricular activities with another good-looking woman was not something he wanted to jeopardise. Ellen satisfied him, up to a point, but lately, she seemed preoccupied, never able to give him more than the occasional hour here and there. This new one, she could prove exciting. The old man had his own plans and hopefully, she might feature prominently in them.