Isn't it wonderful how when everything in life is going smoothly for you some idiot will come along and try to stuff it up and everything changes after that.
I had a decent job, a nice house and, until recently, a nice girlfriend. The decision to break up was mutual, and neither of us was particularly put out about it. Just one of those things. We wanted different things from life and had been growing apart, so the split was for the best.
That wasn't what I meant by a stuff up, either. I had this arrangement with an attractive little blonde who lived a few doors up. When I was between girlfriends we would occasionally get together for a little bit of discreet fun and games. It had to be discreet because she was married and her husband would have been pissed if our arrangement became common knowledge.
I should explain that her husband knows about our arrangement but politely ignores it, but it would have been rude to flaunt it. The reason that he ignores the deal was due to a car accident. The accident had left him unable to procreate, as he now lacked the equipment necessary for such a task. The insurance company, I believe, coughed up a nice little lump sum for the loss of his enjoyment of life. He's not short of a penny.
It was that little arrangement that someone decided to stuff around with. One evening there was a knock on my door and, when I answered, there was this pretty young woman standing there. She was a very pretty little thing and all my male hormones stood up for a closer look.
"Good evening," I said, smiling and willing to be sociable. "Can I help you?"
She gave me this very sweet smile and handed me an envelope.
"I'd like to discuss these with you, if I may?" she said, and her voice was as soft and smooth as honey.
I was smiling as I opened the envelope and still smiling, albeit a bit forced, when I invited her in to discuss the photos of me and my little blonde playmate. I escorted her into the front room and had her sit on the couch. I settled into a chair nearer the door and waited.
She waited for me to say something but I had no intention of doing so. The first to speak was the loser in a game like this. She lost.
"Do you like the photos?" she asked.
"Not particularly."
"I thought you might like to buy them. If you don't, I'm sure I can find another customer."
"Blackmail," I stated coldly.
"Being an entrepreneur," she corrected me.
"Blackmail," I repeated. "If I fork out for these pictures you'll be back next week with another set, demanding more money."
She shook her head.
"I wouldn't do that," she said earnestly. "I'll be quite happy with just a single payment."
She mentioned an amount and I blinked. Happy? She should be ecstatic.
"And what sort of guarantee have I that you won't be back for a second demand?"
"My word. I don't cheat my customers."
"Somehow I can't see your word being worth much. Blackmailers always lie. The chances are you've got copies stashed at your house and your parents will find them and let them out."
I had recognised her by now. Her name was Stella and she lived with her parents just a few doors down. I didn't know the family well, just enough to recognise them as neighbours. The delay in recognising Stella was due to her usually being sloppily dressed. Sloppily? Her clothes were generally not much above the throw-this-out stage. It was the first time I'd seen her done up as a young lady.
"I'm not an idiot," she told me. "I haven't printed any other copies and the file is in a safe place."
I noticed that she gripped her purse rather tightly when she mentioned the file. I was willing to bet that she had the photos on a memory stick in her purse, the idiot.
"It doesn't really matter," I said. "You're what? Sixteen, seventeen? You've probably already shown the damn thing to half your friends. I suspect our little secret is now probably known to half the neighbourhood."
"I'm nineteen," she snapped. "I'm not some loose mouthed child. Why the hell would I discuss these with anyone and let the secret get out? There's no profit in that."
"Because you're a woman," I snarled. "You wouldn't be able to resist showing off what you'd done to your best friend or to a boyfriend. Do you think I don't know how women love to gossip. You probably went over the whole damn bunch with a friend, sniggering at each photo."
"I did no such thing," Stella protested angrily. "Why would I jeopardise my sale that way. No-one knows."
"Really," I said, sounding extremely dubious. "And how did you justify you visit to me. Weren't your parents curious?"
"I didn't tell them," the idiot said airily. "I just said I was going for a walk."
"I see. So the situation as I see it is I pay you blackmail and you might or might not be back for a second dip. Alternatively, as no-one knows anything about this, you might just quietly disappear while out walking and no-one would know why. A mystery."
Stella went dead white. She looked at the door and saw that I was between her and it.
"You wouldn't dare," she whispered.
"Far cheaper that paying a nasty little blackmailer," I pointed out. "You'd be surprised at how often blackmailers tend to have lethal accidents. For instance, if you'd been stupid enough to show those photos to my love's husband, he'd have probably broken your neck to shut you up. He would have regretted it afterwards, but that wouldn't have helped you."
"The file," she said, with an edge of desperation. "If I disappear they may search for and find the file."
