Chapter 1: The attack

Eric

All the neighbours undoubtedly heard the loud altercation between May and her daughter, Louise, that had been going on for some minutes, but only I dared to interfere. Louise's angry voice rose loudly above her mother's and, knowing Louise's propensity for violence, I opened the connecting gate between our gardens and crossed the lawn to May's house. Two high-pitched screams emanated from the kitchen and on passing the window I saw May slumped on the counter her hands covering face. Just as I arrived at the front door it opened and Louise stormed out, turned and shouted back at her mother, "Perhaps now you will do as I sodden well tell you!" Seeing me she spat, "And you can keep your snotty nose out of it." I felt like punching her in the stomach but didn't.

I am Eric Laxley and at 29 I am reasonably well off and have my own thriving landscape garden design business. My parents died in a plane crash four years previously and I inherited the house and enough compensation money to set myself up in a business which I enjoyed doing. I'd already done a two-year course at an agricultural college, worked for another established firm of landscape gardeners for two years and, when I got over the shock of my parents death and the compensation came through, set up on my own. Besides this I have a love of wood and craftwork. Mostly this is for my own enjoyment but I also use my talents helping others either for a nominal charge or no charge at all. My other love is natural history. I am a keen member of the local Wild Life Trust and often project digital images of my animal and bird photographs to them as part of their winter programme.

May is in her fifties, fairly plump and when not harassed by her daughter, is of a jovial disposition. Her husband died of cancer a decade ago and even while my parents were alive she and I were on good terms. Since their death May has become almost a surrogate mother to me and in return I do a lot of repair work on her house.

Louise is totally different in character. She inherited her mother's tendency for plumpness but her nature is sour and demanding; her tongue sharp, her temper quick. Because of this she's never had any real friends and all the jobs she tried lasted only a few weeks at most before she was asked to leave. As a child she learned that by throwing a tantrum she could get what she wanted from her father and unfortunately did not grow out of the habit when he died and continued to bulldoze her mother in the same way. Even as a not unattractive teenager, her caustic comments kept all but the bravest boys at bay, and those that did venture near, were soon stung or cut to pieces by her sharp tongue. As a boy I learned to keep out of her way and nowadays tried to work on the house when she was out.

Now, at 25, Louise has become more introverted and aggressive to others. Her father's long battle against cancer with May nursing him twenty fours hours a day at the end meant there was little money left after the funeral and to help pay the bills, May took two part-time jobs one as a waitress in a local cafe and the other as a school cleaner. Neither paid very well and Louise's demands kept them in debt. Several times I tried to help her financially but May always refused direct payments but accepted my doing work that saved her money or foodstuff when I had excess. In return I had the occasional meal with her when Louise was out.