"A Perfect Crime" is a story of pure fiction. There is no connection in the real world to any persons either living or dead and any similarities to such are absolutely unintentional.
Please Note:-
NO-ONE IN THE STORY PARTICIPATING IN ANY FORM OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY IS UNDER THE AGE OF 18
*****
A Perfect Crime
(Or maybe just a happy ending)
Hello! My name is John Grant. I am now well into the autumn of my life and feel the need to unburden myself with a confession of a terrible crime before I finally fall of my perch. This is my story.
* * *
Prologue
I married my childhood sweetheart when we were both 21. We had been a couple from our early teens and I always thought we'd be together for the rest of our lives. Sadly this story resulted from the fact that my wife, the love of my life; my
soul-mate,
as I had thought at the time, obviously had a different opinion.
* * * * *
Chapter 1
We both grew up and lived until we were in our twenties in a typical close-knit small town of about 12,000 inhabitants. About 10 miles or so from one of England's major cities, it was the kind of place where everyone seemed to know everyone else's business. You maybe know the sort of town I mean. A kid couldn't do
anything
without his parents finding out from some interfering busybody or other. Any misadventures or slight misdemeanour's got back to your parents, often before you had even returned home yourself. Because it was off the beaten track slightly, yet also on a main railway line, our town was a very desirable place to live for people wanting to work in the big city but not live there. This led to house prices being way above the norm for the area and caused the problem of young locals getting married and not being able to afford a decent-sized house near their families and the friends they grew up with. That in itself created a separate problem: Splitting the town between 'locals' and newcomers who viewed living there as a stepping stone to somewhere better.
The school we were both attending when we met was one of those large, purpose-built secondary-modern establishments that had sprung up around the country in order to cater for the war-baby bulge. Intended to accommodate kids from several nearby villages, it was cold, impersonal, and full of inter-village rivalries amongst its pupils. Large class sizes meant teachers only seemed to want to bother with kids who were willing to toe-the-line and do as they were told- not suited to my inbuilt rebellious streak at all.
All in all, I grew up in a claustrophobic and lonely environment for any teenager to be a part of as I stumbled through my early years with no friends, a family that 'didn't understand' me and teachers who couldn't give a damn about me.
And I fucking hated it!...
* * *
That is, until I met Claire.
Claire was always a beauty. Slim and naturally fit, she couldn't help but draw attention from any self-respecting heterosexual male, even from her first blossoming into puberty. She had absolutely no idea at first of the affect she had on anyone who met her as she was going through her early teens. An effervescent, naturally friendly little girl who rapidly developed into a popular and beautiful young woman, everyone who ever had the joy of meeting her was totally entranced by her. Boys fell in love with her. Girls wanted to be like her, seemingly without any of the petty jealousies you would expect from others not as blessed as her. Her whole personality and general demeanour meant absolutely no-one disliked her. From her peers right up to her teachers, everyone would try to associate themselves with her, assuring she was always the centre of attention wherever she went.
Me? - I
always
thought I was pitching way above my weight when Claire and I got together. It was strange that she and I ever connected at all, what with being as totally different as we were. She was my first girlfriend and I was absolutely enamoured by her. Totally besotted I will freely admit. She had apparently grown tired of me just shyly ogling her from afar and, one cold and crisp autumn day, amazed me when she suddenly appeared at my side as I sat alone at school lunch time. I didn't really have any friends back then, so being alone at lunchtime was not exactly unusual at that time of my life. She just started talking to me as though we were old friends, putting this stroppy, shy youth completely at ease with her naturally friendly disposition as she proceeded to inquire why I had never asked her out. To say I was gob-smacked was to say Mount Everest is a bit of a hill in Nepal. Within half an hour, we were holding hands and walking back into school like some star-crossed lovers.
* * *
Personally, I was nothing special back then, apart from being exceptionally tall for my age that is- I was over 6 foot when I was just 14. Other than that, I was a typically 'spotty' youth, full of attitude and surliness toward my long-suffering parents and any other form of authority that 'dared' to try to limit my life. Inevitably, that obnoxiousness would lead to me being punished in one form or another and I seemed to spend my early teens either in detention, or worse, at school- corporal punishment was still allowed in schools back then- or it led to me being 'grounded for evermore' at home by my despairing parents.
Unfashionably long hair, skinny white body, heavy smoker, under-age drinker, I was the archetypal 'bad-boy' that for some inexplicable reason some so-called
nice
girls seem to be attracted to. In my early teens, I was perpetually in trouble. Inexorably and totally unable to back down in any shape or form, I always seemed to turn a discussion into a disagreement, a disagreement into a full-blown argument, an argument into a fight, a fight into a vendetta. You know the sort of insolent young twat I mean. You've all met them and wanted to give them a good clip round the fucking ear, no doubt.
Consequently, Claire and I became an item. We were both 15 at the time and our two sets of parents had totally opposite views on the situation. Understandably, hers were appalled and disgusted. They couldn't for one millisecond understand why their beautiful, intelligent daughter should ever want to be seen dead with an out-of-control yob like me. Her solid, conservative father hated me. Her mother? Well she was probably a little frightened of me as well as hating me, (although I always had the impression she
knew
what her daughter was attracted to). My parents on the other hand were delighted. They saw the lovely Claire as an influence who would help get my life on track and make me settle down, make me grow-up if you like.
I was very much the youngest sibling in my family, having come along as a complete and utter shock to my parents who were both in their early forties by the time I arrived on the scene. My father had been fortunate to not have to fight in either of the world wars- too young for the first, too old for the second he told me. I had one sister who was 22 years older than me, and also a younger one who was just 18 when I was born. The pair of them had been land-army girls in the second world war and had both married ex-servicemen. Both my parents admitted freely over the years, that if I hadn't had been the son my dad had always wanted, they would probably have been tempted to have me adopted and put the experience behind them, settling for the two girls they loved and adored and could afford.
The strangest thing to my young mind though, was the fact that my eldest sister and her husband had twin girls the year before I was born, resulting in the embarrassing circumstance that I had two 'nieces' who were both a year in front of me at school. Try explaining that to piss-taking so-called school friends. No wonder I turned into such an introverted, rebellious prick back then.
Sadly, but probably understandably, I turned out to be such a bitter disappointment as a teenager to all concerned.
* * *
Claire was an only child. She too, was a fairly late arrival; her mother was almost 30 and her father 33 when she was born. Not particularly old by today's standards, but, back then anyway, most couples had started their families much earlier in their lives. Her mother loved her dearly, but her father, her dear old dad, well it has to be said, he absolutely doted on her and spoiled her rotten. A state of affairs that no doubt contributed to the eventual problems in mine and Claire's marriage later on.
Despite all her father's attempts to dissuade her, Claire and I became a union that wasn't for breaking. We would meet on every available occasion, and, as my parents had hoped, she became a wonderful influence on me. She persuaded me to change my attitude on life, and school in particular, encouraging me to study and knuckle down to try to pass my exams. Neither of us were college material though. We weren't thick by any means, but nor were we 'A' grade students.
Claire had always seemed destined to go work for her father. He owned a few furniture shops spread across the local area, and that's exactly what happened. She started as a trainee after leaving school at 16 and, by the time she reached 21, she was managing one of the larger shops of the chain.
I too had left school at 16, and, through a friend of my dad, had started an apprenticeship as an auto mechanic with the local Jaguar franchise. It turned out I was actually very good at it, having a natural talent for diagnostics, (this was
way
