Sally's life was pretty much how she'd planned it from when she was young; go to College, meet a handsome man, get married, have kids, be a dutiful housewife and mother and make her own Mother proud.
Both of Sally and Jim's sons were now at University. Jim's successful career had made it possible to ensure that they both got the right start in life, with an education that would lead them to a higher salary upon Graduation. The twins had a year left of their studies - at different establishments, one in Newcastle and the other in Manchester. They both had their own social lives, so they didn't get back home very often, even though Jim had financed their driving lessons and cars.
What Sally hadn't predicted was the boredom and loneliness once the boys had gone and while her husband was at work. Her answer was to go shopping. Unfortunately, this became a habit that her husband suggested meant that she was spending more than she should. He gave her an allowance for housekeeping and extra for her own purposes (after all, she might want to buy him a birthday or anniversary present in secret).
Sally's credit cards had been locked in the safe at home, protected by a combination that her husband wouldn't reveal, so all of her spending was by cash. Feeling particularly lonely one day, she went out on a spree. She had about £1000 in her purse and was looking to buy shoes and a dress. She had no intention of spending all of that money as part of it was for fresh food shopping.
So, even with a plan in mind not to spend too much, she still managed to go through half of her money. Walking back to the car she was both excited by the purchases and feeling guilty at the same time. Her hands were full and just as she got back to the car her mobile phone rang. She dropped the bags and grabbed the car keys from her handbag and unlocked it. Throwing the bags on the passenger seat, she then pulled her phone out and answered it; it was her friend Jenny.
Jenny launched into a detailed explanation of her latest row with her husband, not allowing Sally a chance to respond or get a word in edgeways, so she put the key in the lock, shut the door and started the engine. With the mobile cradled between her ear and her shoulder she started the engine, put it into gear, looked over her shoulder to make sure it was clear, released the handbrake and pushed down on the accelerator.
Sally was momentarily confused, but the gearshift was pointing at R instead of D and while she was looking backwards, the vehicle lurched forwards, straight into the rear of a white Transit van parked in front of her. The phone dropped to the floor and she shouted to Jenny.
"Shit! Jenny I've had a crash I'll have to call you back."
She quickly put the car in reverse gear, hoping to get away quickly before anybody noticed. Sally wasn't a particularly dishonest person; it was just that this wasn't her fist accident. In fact she'd had three this year and her husband had told her that one more and he would take her keys away.
Just as she was about to accelerate away, two young men jumped in front of the car waving their hands for her to stop. She slapped on the brakes and nearly hit the steering wheel, as she hadn't been wearing a seatbelt.
One of the men remained standing in front of the car while the other walked around to her window.
"You've damaged my van! You do realise that it's an offence to drive away from the scene of an accident?" he shouted through the closed window.
"I'm... I'm sorry; I don't know what I'm doing! I made a mistake and I panicked!"
The man made a rolling sign with his finger and it took a couple of seconds for Sally to understand and press the button to wind down the window.
"That's better. Now, we need to exchange names and addresses so that we can get your insurance company to pay for the damage to our van. You are insured aren't you?"
"Yes, yes I am insured. It's just that I'd prefer to pay cash if that's OK? It's just that the insurance company will hit me hard with a rise in the premium."
"I'm not so sure. I was conned once before and it cost me money. I'd prefer to go through the insurance."
"Please! I can't let my husband find out I've had another accident! He'll throw my keys away!"
"It sounds like he'd be doing everybody a favour."
The tears were welling up in Sally's eyes and she played her "vulnerable" card.
"It's... not just the keys. He'll..." she stammered, but didn't finish.
Whether the van driver fell for her implied fear of violence was unclear, but nevertheless he relented.
"I'm probably being an idiot, but OK. I still want your insurance details though, just in case."
So Sally gave him her insurance details, name, address and mobile phone number. Then he gave her his details. Finally, he turned to walk back to his vehicle.
"I'll be in touch," he said. "I'll get the work done and call you for the money."
*****
Sally drove straight to her local garage - which made a fair amount of money from her regular visits to repair dents - and worse. Fortunately, they weren't particularly busy and so she was able to leave the car with them. It turned out to be fairly minor damage and within two days she was able to pick it up, all evidence of the mishap having been removed. The problem was; it wasn't cheap. She had just enough cash left to pay for it, but that left her nothing for food or anything else.
Biting the bullet, Sally took her purchases back to the shops where she bought them. She came up with a variety of excuses as to why she wasn't happy with the items, but managed to persuade all but one Manager to give her a refund.
Two days later her mobile phone rang. She recognised the number, as she had put it straight into her phone. It was Dave, the "White Van Man".
"Mrs. Prosser? It's Dave Watling. We met the other day when you hit my van."
"Yes that's right. Have you managed to get it fixed?"
"Yes. It had to be a rush job, because I need it for my work. They replaced the bumper and number plate lights, but there was a bit of bodywork damage too."
When he told her the cost, a cold shiver ran down Sally's spine. She simply didn't have enough to cover it. Instantly she decided not to tell him so, but to give herself time to think.
"Can you come round at 9am tomorrow morning? Then we can settle up."
"Sure. We'll see you then," he replied.
The van pulled into the driveway at 8.55 the next day. Sally had given herself time to think but she was utterly bereft of any ideas on how to pay Dave.
"Come on in. Have a seat and I'll get my purse." She showed Dave and his workmate into the lounge. That sat down and waited.
When she came back she offered them coffee, but Dave told her that they had to get going as they had a job waiting for them.
"The thing is," she began. "I don't have quite enough to pay you. I can give you most of it, but I'm afraid I'm £200 short. Can you give me two weeks and then I can pay you the rest?"
In fact, Sally was only £20 short, but she had known she would have to have some cash for groceries. Her husband would expect to eat when he returned home from his extended business trip and an empty fridge would not go down well.
"You're joking! I was counting on that money! It was supposed to pay for a couple of tickets for the game tonight!" He didn't raise his voice, but the annoyance and frustration was clear.
"I'm sorry, but I promise that I'll pay you in two weeks. My husband will be back and he'll give me my allowance."
Dave wasn't happy, but he reluctantly agreed. As Sally showed him to the door, he looked at her properly for the first time; she was about 5' 7", with tawny coloured hair that tumbled to her shoulders. The dress she was wearing was a flower pattern and of a material that seemed to accentuate the movement of her hips as she walked. He couldn't help noticing that she had a very nice arse. The back of the dress plunged low and there was no sign of bra straps. When she opened the door and turned sideways to usher them out, he looked at her breasts for the first time and noticed her nipples were showing as she moved. He walked back to the van wondering what she would look like without the dress.
"Shit," Ian said. "I told you that the bitch would try and screw you! Mind you, I wouldn't mind screwing her. For an older bird she's really tasty. Did you see her nipples poking through that dress? And her bum cheeks looked like they had independent suspension. Do you reckon she was wearing a thong under there, or is she a really dirty little cow and not wearing knickers?"
*****
Twelve days later, on the day that her husband was due back, he called Sally to tell her that he had been delayed and wouldn't be back for another week. She had all but forgotten about Dave until that moment, but then she knew she would have to let him down - again. She didn't contact him, hoping that he might wait until she did, but instead he and Ian turned up on her doorstep two days later. She invited them in, not wanting the neighbours to see.
"Look, I'm sorry, but my husband isn't back. I've got no money to pay you. You'll have to give me another week." She said it confidently, expecting them to realise that they had no choice but to wait. But Ian didn't see it that way.
"I told you Dave, the bitch is trying to screw you. You should never have agreed to wait for your money."
"It's not my fault!" she protested. "My husband was supposed to be back by now."
"Yeah and Dave's supposed to have his money by now. He had to borrow to cover himself. You're just taking the piss now!"
"But it's only another week."
"Yeah? Well perhaps you'll pay Dave double for his trouble?"