AN UGLY OUTCOME
By Teresa Ashby
Guy was where he always was, propping up the bar — all alone. Other people tended to move away from him, shutting him out of their cosy little groups. Women, any that bothered to give him a second look, laughed at him.
He should have been well used to it by now, but it still hurt. He knew he was ugly, knew his nose was twisted, knew his skin was cratered with acne scars. Someone had once said that his eyes were lizard eyes, bulging and red-rimmed, but what could he do about them?
Some ugly people attract others with their sparkling personalities, but Guy found it painfully difficult to speak to anyone.
So, when the beautiful young woman walked in through the door, he quickly averted his eyes because he couldn’t bear to see the scorn and revulsion that he knew would be reflected in her face.
He hardly dared look up as she slid on to the stool beside him. She smelled sensational, of expensive perfume. Probably Chanel No 5, although he didn’t know for sure. He’d never had a girlfriend and his mother had always used the kind of cheap sprays that would kill flies.
The woman wore very high, spiky-heeled shoes and, as his eyes moved very slowly up over her long, slim legs, he felt his mouth go dry. By the time he reached her gorgeous face, he was shaking.
‘Hi,’ she said softly.
She was speaking to him! What should he do?
‘Hello,’ he mumbled, wishing his voice had some class, some charm. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘White wine, thank you.’ She smiled. He was dazzled. He’d never bought a woman a drink before.
He wondered if this was a set up, but from the looks on their faces, everyone else in the bar seemed as shocked as he was. She chatted easily to him, drew him out of his shell and even made him laugh.
Guy fell in love.
When she got back home, Estelle rushed upstairs, ripped off her clothes and tossed them on the floor.
‘It was just horrible,’ she sobbed. ‘I found the ideal man, but he was so ugly. Ugh!’
James lay on the bed, watching her, a smile on his face.
‘You mean you really found one, at last?’ he said.
‘Oh, I found one all right. He’s perfect in every way. Right height, weight, build, colouring — everything! Except his face,’ Estelle answered, shuddering.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter about his face,’ James sat upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Come on, darling, we’ve come this far! Don’t go soft on me now!’
‘I don’t know, James,’ she sighed. ‘I almost puked when he kissed me. It was like...like kissing a goldfish!’
Estelle shuddered again, violently this time. ‘As for the rest...’
James stood up and put his big, strong arms around her.
‘Just think of all that money,’ he whispered. ‘When he’s dead and you’re a poor grieving widow — a rich grieving widow — it will seem like a small price to pay.’
‘What if someone finds out?’
‘They won’t! There’s no reason for anyone to suspect anything. It’ll be a straightforward car crash and you’ll cash in the insurances. He’ll be driving my car, carrying my papers and I, my love, will be waiting in
‘You’ll be Mr Jason Etherington,’ she smiled. ‘And I’ll come to
‘That’s right, that’s the plan,’ he grinned, kissing her.
‘But what if any of our friends...?’
‘Details, details,’ he sighed impatiently. ‘We’ll make new friends. The McCoys will cease to exist.’
James had planned everything to the finest detail, and Guy was so gullible — he fell in with the whole scheme, as if he were working to a script. What a simple, stupid man.
Estelle said a lingering goodbye to James, then he took his car away to prepare it for Guy’s final drive, parking it in a quiet car park while Estelle made the fatal phone call.
‘Guy, darling,’ she said, her voice more honeyed than usual. ‘I had to leave my car in the
She felt no stab of conscience, no sense of guilt. She only felt relief, knowing that she wouldn’t have to kiss Guy ever again, wouldn’t have to endure the touch of his clumsy, rough hands on her delicate skin.
‘Yes, of course.’ Guy, as always, sounded friendly, helpful, and completely naive. Estelle put the phone down. James would be fixing up the engine right now, even as Guy made his way to the car park. Then James would fly to
Sadly, the policeman explained: ‘The car seems to have had some kind of engine trouble as it crossed the bridge. I’m afraid your husband was dead before the car even hit the water, Mrs McCoy. Our divers have retrieved his remains. We need you to come to the mortuary to identify him.’
The hands and face of the corpse were burned beyond recognition, just as James said they would be.
‘Yes,’ she sobbed. ‘That’s James, that’s my husband.’
There was never any suspicion of foul play, and Estelle played the part of the grieving widow to perfection. It wasn’t that difficult because she missed James so terribly, but knowing he was waiting for her in LA made the separation bearable.
At last, a letter came from the lawyers containing a big settlement cheque. Tax and fees had taken quite a large chunk, but the amount of Estelle’s inheritance still made seven figures. The first thing she did was to book herself on a flight to
Estelle smiled when the cab dropped her outside a tatty tenement block. ‘Soon, my darling,’ she thought, ‘we’ll be living in the lap of luxury!’ The lift was broken and she had to take the stairs, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now that she was going to be reunited with her darling James.
She knocked on the door and listened, her heart thundering as she heard the sound of James’ footsteps coming down the hallway. As the door opened, she was about to throw herself into his arms, when she saw Guy’s ugly face breaking into a welcoming grin.
‘I thought you’d never get here,’ he said. ‘You see, Estelle, people make the mistake of thinking that because I’m ugly, I’m also stupid. Your husband just wasn’t quick enough. I caught him tampering with the car’s engine and I forced the whole story out of him. I know it should have been my corpse in that car. But it wasn’t, my sweet, it was his!’
A picture flashed in her mind of the body that she’d identified... it really had been James.
Estelle fainted with shock. Guy gathered her in his arms and carried her into the apartment. ‘It’s going to be all right, Estelle,’ he murmured softly. ‘It doesn’t matter, my sweet. I’ll never tell a soul what you did. And all you have to do in return for my silence is stay here with me...forever.’
-THE END-
© Teresa Ashby
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