Out for Revenge Read online

  My nest egg and my savings were a very good deposit for the hotels. I had finally agreed to Gerald’s cheap asking price of two million. I went to the bank to sort out the business loan. We had the large deposit needed three hundred thousand. I had more than enough now, in the account, I had thought he would want a lot more for the hotels and expected to use all my saved money. I had my payoff in a high interest account, and I had added to it over the years; all my wages for the past five years, good wages too and great bonuses from Gerald, what with that and all Glyn’s deposits over the past six months, we were sorted.

  That fateful day, I found my account nearly empty, there was just a poxy three thousand pounds left; and after I threw the worst ever rage, of all times at the bank manager, then threw up in the bin, and finally calmed down. I took that out and opened another account. I was devastated there was nothing I could do; I had allowed him access to my money, our money it had then become, though he had given me the money to add to it, he had in fact withdrew it the day after he gave me the money to deposit, and along with a bigger chunk.

  Not once did the bank manager raise a red flag, from never touching it, to taking thousands out weekly, what a fool I was. Now, though I was a very poor and stupid old fool. I took the deal the slimy bastard offered, he would have the charges dropped, if I didn’t pursue the money and I left the flat that day and started over again far away from Blackpool.

  I had nothing left and had nowhere to go. The rented house we lived in, mine for the past five years; I couldn’t afford to rent any longer, not after I lost my job. He could, so I moved out. His parting shot was.

  “I’m glad you haven’t now got-a-pot-to-piss-in Carrie, I never liked putting my dick in your old used fanny, pure turned him limp and in need of a proper women after you.” Then he started to divorced me for cruelty, yes I beat him black and blue once, damn it wish I’d kicked the limp dick more now. Then he moved her in, just two days after I left the flat and Blackpool. No one else involved my arse. He now had a better job than I did. He’d stepped into mine when he sacked me, with Gerald’s backing. Then his mistress stepped into his shoes, as assistant manager. Perfectly shafted by all three of them

  I agreed to all his demands, I had no other choice, so I headed back to my hometown and working at a hotel In Torquay, as a receptionist. Glen gave me a glowing reference and stated I needed to broaden my horizons as a reason for my leaving. Nice, no horizons needed broadening Glyn; I just needed to take of the specks and get them un-tinted and stop viewing people, boyfriends, no men, in general as bloody perfect for me.

  I was now back in my hometown from were, all those years ago, I had fled from in fear of my life. I had come back; I had nowhere else I could go to, I hated it here I lived in fear of seeing Peter and his family, they I knew from mum, still lived in the same house the very same place I hated, but that was all, I cared to know.

  I had returned to my parents’ home to sit out the divorce and live with my poorly widowed mother, I would look after her, I had lost my father to cancer ten years ago, and mum now too was suffering the same fate. It was hard seeing her, deteriorate. Mum, bless her, died just three short months after I arrived home. I was devastated and alone. I then had to move out of my mother’s house, there were debts on it; and the bank had generously, allowed her to live in it for the remainder of her life.

  The bank then owned my childhood home, and I was homeless again. I moved to the grotty bedsit; we sold everything, to pay for the funeral. That along with what little Janice, my sister sent me from Australia, unable to come back it was too expensive, and the thousand pounds Uncle Harry gave me and the few hundred my cousin Linda, Harry’s only child, had tucked away for a rainy day.

  “It never rains in Vegas baby, when will I need it? Pay me back when you win the lottery, buy me a convertible car, and drive with me down sunset strip at midnight.” With that, and the overdraft, I just managed to pay off the funeral. I had been in this grotty bed sit for three months, I was by the time of the great big lottery win three weeks divorced, thank god he rushed it through, or I would have been giving him half of this win. Thank god for being officially divorced, my one small thank full moment in all this he wasn’t getting a penny of it…

  CHAPTER 3

  So now, I’m over forty, I am alone, and now a multi-millionaire. My life was in need of a drastic change, I had money in the bank. So I did as I planned, I was all for putting into play, my wonderful plan for revenge, I’m not mad, honestly, I’m not, well, all right, perhaps a little bit, loopy! I’m not getting mad, I’m getting even, as the wonderful Bobby Kennedy once famously said, or as the great Ivana Trump said, don’t get mad, get everything darling. Yes, I will have my revenge and then get everything, including the answers from him…

  The first one sorted, would be Gerald, then Glyn, but they could wait a while, they weren’t going anywhere. I had a whole body makeover planned first. I wanted to be young again; time travel, hasn’t been invented yet, so under the knife I’m going. I had crappy teeth; they were the first thing I wanted doing; being in that extremely abusive relationship for nearly four years, in my teens; had cost me the loss of nearly all my front teeth, and my self-confidence had disappeared along with them.

  I had false ones made and wore those, but I also had a deep fear of the dentist, I had felt the pain of the extraction of the part teeth, and it frightened me off, not going again. Over the years, though, they had gotten a lot worse. So I was booked in with the best Harley Street had to offer, that was after a course of hypnosis, to get me in the bloody chair. Boy was I glad I did it when I looked at the results it worth it. Over the next three weeks, my smile looked fantastic, and I couldn’t help but do anything but smile too.

  Out with the old and rotten and in their place I had fitted a whole mouthful of titanium rod implants, and new crowns were placed on top of them, fifty thousand pounds, was an impossible amount to find to pay before, but now it was small change. My smile was back and in the three weeks, I had been on soups and soft fruits; the new teeth took some used to and hurt for a while; I’d lost loads more weight, something that I had needed to do.

  I had a gym instructor call at the hotel, for private sessions and boy was she good. I lost two stone of ugly fat and gained better muscle mass, but still wanted the perfect boobs and belly, so I went under the knife.

  I wanted the perky boobs I had when I was eighteen, not the massive ones I had when I had my children, which for every other mother seemed to shrink when they had kids, mine got bigger with the children and stayed, unfortunately they never reduced. I am undergoing life-changing surgeries to get me back where I was an age and a half ago, the teeth done, next the rest. Next was the flabby skin and bags left from childbirth weight loss and overeating.

  I looked in the mirror as I came out of surgery; my boobs were fantastic, they hadn’t been this pert in well forever, tum flattish, bruising, and swelling would take a while, and the liposuction to my legs and arms had gotten rid of a lot of the fat. A nip and tuck got rid of the loose skin and I really looked a whole lot better. My face had had a small amount of work, to lift and debag the eyes, my lips were still perfect, and my nose cute as it always was, I loved that I’d inherited my mother’s perfect nose, and glad Peter never broke it, he was always careful about hitting my face, the bruises were always hidden.

  I still needed to work out and work out I did, I joined my trainers gym and worked my arse off, and within six months, I had the body of, well not an eighteen year old, but one of thirty. I gave my notice in at the hotel the day after my win, telling them I had to have many surgeries for my bad back, Liar-liar Carrie. I had a trip to Australia and shared the wealth; I came back via Vegas and bought Linda a flat and the bright pink cadi convertible that we drove along sunset strip, drinking Bollinger-darling.

  I came back to Torquay, as, I attempted to make good on the plans I had started. Plans on how to put the revenge thing into motion, what to do first, I moved into a posh boutique ho
tel in Torquay first. I loved it so much I bought it; the first home of my own, was in fact a sixteen bedroomed, Georgian hotel. I needed to be here for my later plans anyway, and this was where I was happy once and where, I swore to be happy again.

  First to pay in the court of Carrie Constance Wright; would be Gerald. He had sacked me, no consideration given to the five years of good money; I had made him, believing instead Glyn’s lies. He wouldn’t even listen, nor look at the evidence I had. Escorted from the hotel, like a common criminal, by security, my things dumped in a black bin liner, no listening to reason. Then I would sort out Glyn. He was the reason my mother had a crappy send-off; his failure to deliver five grand of my money, would cost him, dearly.

  I went for dinner at a local pub after my face bruises had finally gone down, I still had the same dull blond hair, but it had had a good cut and look after, it too was having the works in the week, I had a daylong appointment for extensions.

  This was my dad’s old local when I was still at school here. I looked around the place, half expecting to see dad propping up the bar. I spied a couple of girls I used to go to school with. I looked in their direction and smiled, I know I looked different, but I hadn’t changed that much. They came across and smiled.

  “It is you Carrie Wright aren’t you? We thought it was you, but you don’t look old enough.” I smiled and thanked Sharon Scott and Julie Greene, old classmates; yes, I had the result I wanted.

  “I was Carrie Wright, but now I’m called Catherine De Droite. Name change is a long story, but I have a stalker in my past, I don’t want him finding me so changed my name.” I had a few pieces of fake, identification things for appearances sake, a fake driving licence, business cards, etc. All for use later in the game, but I would always be Carrie Wright. I had fun picking my new name, I picked ‘to right’ in the French spelling, as I was going ‘to right’ all the wrongs done to me.

  I ordered a bottle of wine and they joined me to reminisce, me I had my own agenda; I wanted to know if they knew were Tom Thompson was? I slowly added him into a conversation about old classmates; they knew everyone and everything, in this town. Tom was in a bad way.

  “Oh, how bad and why is he in a bad way, please tell me you know why?” They spilled; good wine can do that as I ordered another bottle. Which, they drank.

  “Well, you know he was the youngest of the Thomson boys? You two, joined at the hip growing up. He had two brothers Ben and god what was the other called, you remember him, god what was his name?” I looked at her.

  “He was called Jack. The middle one of the three boys was called Jack.” I remembered that name and my heart sank. I had fallen in love with him aged fourteen, and for over eighteen months, we had gone out, he was a lot older than I was, but I was hopelessly in love with him.

  He said he was willing to wait until I was sixteen, to do the sex thing, he actually did wait, he only waited eighteen months through; and then he dumped me. Unexpectedly and with no explanation, that made any sense, I was devastated, no sensible reasons given. It was the strangest night, one spent like the rest, on the back room sofa. Where every night was make out central, were I became very intimate, with my older more experience boyfriends bits, and he with mine umm, there again that whole body shiver still after nearly thirty years.

  He came to my house that night, as he did every night and after that last night of fantastic kissing and heated cuddles on the back room sofa. His kisses didn’t say we were in any trouble, far from it in fact. We walked home, he had stalled in leaving that night, and we slowly walked home. He was jumpy, watching the roads, and checking the streets, he was jumpy, nervous, and quiet!

  On the short walk to our goodbye point, he just announced he was dumping me, just a quick conversation about our lives going in different directions, me wanting to go one way, him another, a quick kiss to the cheek, and he left. He hadn’t convinced me he didn’t love me, so as I chased after him and caught up to him, he was crying. Why cry if you don’t care? He still insisted, there was nothing in it other than he and I were going down different paths.

  God was I confused, he kissed my cheek and whispered he was so, so sorry, he had loved me and as he said he truly had loved me, he ran, ran back home. I hurt, really hurt. I just presumed it was because I wouldn’t do it, but I would have, I wanted to; we’d all but done it. I had seen him naked, I’d slept in the same bed, and we had definitely hit all the bases except that one, I was even on the pill, because we had come so close quite a few times when he slept over, his hands were never still when we slept in my bed.

  He had more restraint than I did, I even once as he slept tried to do it with him, he woke, laughed and said I was impatient, and it would be worth the wait. He would see it was the most memorable time, I would ever have. I sigh, that night never came. I wrote to him for weeks, until that fate full time, a few weeks later. Sharon nudged me back to the conversation.

  “God yes that was his name, damn hot he was too, didn’t you go out with him back in the day.” I smiled at the memory of him. The feelings even all these years later were still there, I think I always knew there would only ever be he, who hit that spot. That warm button, which sent a shiver through my body when I thought of him, and remembered his gentle kiss, as he said goodbye, that last time.

  “If you can call it going out, I suppose we did, young love and all that, he was my first proper boyfriend, so I suppose yes I did go out with him, he is old news now though.” She smiled Julie was hunting out talent.

  “Umm, he was a couple of years older, than you, Car… Sorry Catherine, love the name, but I liked Carrie too, kind of confusing woman.” Try four; he was nineteen when he left me heartbroken at fifteen six more months was all he had to wait, until I was sixteen. I remembered him with a mix of love hate and confusion; all these years and I still need the answer.

  She’d said something about the first boy I kissed and married, Thomas Thompson, err I was only five when we got married the first time, and ten when we did it again, um and my first proper kiss at thirteen or was I twelve, would have to root out my diaries from the storage locker, to check.

  “What happened to poor Tom then, you was always with him until Jack, have you got a thing for brothers? You were always with Pete and his brother Paul, nut jobs them two keep away Carrie, they are worse trouble than they were before. Right Tommy your pretend husband, not once but twice?” He liked me too, but I fell for his brother and we fell out after, Jack and I got together. Shame, because we were good friends too.

  I was always with Tom, we hung round together all the way through preschool, infant school and junior school, and for a couple of years at senior school too. Then I hit that teenage rebellion thing, I got the perfect set of boobs and the attitude that went with them. Tom, bless him still wanted to build dens and climb in our tree.

  Had he kissed me more than that one fantastic shivery kiss, who knows if I ever would have gone the Jack route? He was forced to give me a proper kiss in a truth or dare, we and the others did at the sleep over; camping in my back garden, the summer before I got the boobs and attitude, he was dared by Sarah to kiss me properly not on the cheek, but lips and tongue. He god could kiss, but he never did it again, after that, he pulled back a little on our friendship too, he became a little distant.

  Which is the time Jack got interested in me, or did I spot Jack, who knows it was instant lust fest for us both. I fell for Jack, and god he asked me to be his girlfriend as he walked me home instead of Tom; he Tom, had gone to bed and left me sitting in the front room.

  He said the age thing didn’t bother him; he did though, say, I would be his on my sixteenth birthday, and not before. We could have fun getting to know each other; I think I dumped poor Tom, that night. On the other hand, did Tom dump me leaving me in his front room; no, I’m going to bed; he just left me sitting like a numpty in his front room, whilst he went to bed? Jack came in from football looking hot and my teenage hormones were on overdrive… Phew, his kiss as he dropp
ed me off at home definitely left me wanting more.

  I wanted to stay friends with Tom, but he wasn’t for being just my friend after Jack and I got together. He for the first few weeks tried talking to me about his big brother, he warned me, he, Jack would use me, and he was too old for me, yes like that bothered me, he was older, treated me like a princess, and loved me, we were inseparable for eighteen months. I snapped back. She was telling me what Tom’s problems were and me; I was telling her the reason for being Catherine. Moreover, the Hutchison saga, well bits, not all.

  “Paul and Pete Hutchinson were and are the reason for my name change, he nearly killed me left me for dead, and I had to move away.” She said it was our secret. She had had a run in with him after I left; she was convinced he’d spiked her drink in the local club. Although she can’t remember it, she’s sure he took her home to his, she woke in a strange bed and was covered in bites and bruises, her bits were red raw and really clean and sore. She ran home, and never let him near her again, she was frightened of him too, she doesn’t know how lucky she was she was able to run away.

  “He, Tommy has a drug problem and they, the family all ignore him; black sheep of the family. He still lives in the same house, but keeps himself to himself and well is a bit strange. He lives in the house were his parents died, the other two well moved away, Jack lived up to his name, too a Jack the lad from all accounts.” I smiled as Julie copped off and Sharon went to join her friend and his mate.

  “Keep in touch, Carr… sorry Catherine, Facebook me.” I laughed and said I’d send a friend request. I wouldn’t Carrie, as the song goes, doesn’t live here anymore; well not until people are sorted. I went back to my hotel and got the number of a local detective I wanted to know everything there was to know on the brothers Thompson, everything warts and all.