MAGGIE

MAGGIE

As the handcuffs snapped shut around Joe’s wrists, he wondered how he ever got to this point in his life. He never thought in a million years that the love of a woman would end like this.

It had all started three years ago when he was a regular guy working for the post office. His route took him by his old school, down roads he grew up in, past the first house he owned, the park where he played football on a Sunday morning with the lads from work and the pub where he had met her. She was beautiful to him, even though his mates thought she wasn’t his type. His type, what would they know? He’d been quite lonely since the death of his first wife and Maggie offered him comfort and love, ok, so she was a few years younger than him but what’s ten years when you’re in love right? Everything had been going great at first, quiet drinks in the local, romantic walks in the park, even the odd weekend at the beach. But Joe wanted more. He had grown used to her being around and even though he said he would never marry again, he knew that life was far too short and precious to let opportunities to be happy slip away. So when they had been seeing each other for about a year he took the huge step and asked her to move in with him. He remembered how excited she was and that very first night of sharing a home the rafters rocked with passion the like of which Joe had never experienced. He didn’t know much about Maggie’s past and he didn’t care. Everyone’s got baggage he had said while they sat sharing a solitary cigarette after yet another night of rafter rocking. To him, she was sweet, gentle and kind but underneath that exterior was a cold calculated fraud, which would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

One morning Joe came home from his shift to find Maggie crying.

“Maggie what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Joe, I’ve lost my job; I don’t know what to do.”

Joe wasn’t quite sure where it was that Maggie worked. He always left before she woke up and she was gone when he came home but she was always there at teatime to eat the meal he had cooked. When a vacancy at the PO sorting office came up, Joe vouched for her trustworthiness and took her references in. Joe didn’t know of course that they were forged. To her delight she got the position. He thought she looked gorgeous in her post person’s uniform and after their first shift together they rocked the rafters while she was still wearing it. His mates at work didn’t think much of her at all. At first they thought it was natural for them to always be together and didn’t mind her sitting all over him in the pub but then he stopped coming in altogether. Joe said that Maggie wasn’t keen on pubs and preferred to get a few beers to drink at home. At this point Joe was still kicking the ball on Sundays and always had a pint on the way home but then that stopped. His mates made the joke that he was under the thumb but Joe was having none of it.

“What Maggie wants Maggie gets.” he said.

Of course his mates were getting suspicious; this was their mate Joe who enjoyed the pub, liked a laugh and loved footie on Sundays. But since Maggie appeared that had changed: he was always tired, seldom smiled and was downright miserable most of the time. They were getting a little sick of Maggie this, and Maggie that and when she stopped him sitting with them at breakfast, they decided to say something. Of course Joe didn’t believe them, he was in love with a beautiful woman and nothing they said would make any difference.

That was when he noticed the letters it was only a couple at first, ripped envelopes in the bin. When he confronted her about them she’d make an excuse, kissed him and take him to bed. This routine went on for weeks, all with the same ending, a stunning night of rafter rocking. Joe put his suspicions to the back of his mind, there’ll be some reason he thought.

After six months, he went home early, because Maggie hadn’t turned up for work, to find a black bag full of letters and parcels sitting in the middle of the living room. He opened it; he recognised some of the names and addresses. Questions starting forming in his mind, Why were they here? How did they get here? Where did they come from?  He looked around the room and noticed a parcel on the table that had been opened. He read the name on it and recognised the address Why was it open? Just then Maggie came in,

“What the hell are you doing home at this time?” she shouted.

Joe was shocked; he had never heard her speak like that before,

“I finished work early, why aren’t you at work?”

“I didn’t feel like it.” she said and with that she took the parcel and left the room. Joe was puzzled; he wasn’t sure what was going on. He following her upstairs to the spare room he let her keep some of her stuff in, usually it was locked but this time he found it open. Pushing the door his eyes were met with a strange sight, instead of the room being filled with boxes containing Maggie’s stuff, it was filled with black bags containing letters and parcels, hundreds of them and there in the middle sat Maggie.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“What’s it look like?” she replied. The venom that spilled from her lips stopped Joe in his tracks. Just then the phone rang downstairs; still holding his post bag Joe went to answer it. It was Fred from work, Fred told Joe about a visit they had had from the police about some missing mail. Maggie’s name had come up and the police were on their way to Joe’s house. Thanking Fred, Joe hung up he turned to see Maggie standing there looking.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Where’s all this post from?”

“It’s my post.” Maggie said, “I’ve been nicking it since I started working there and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But the police are on their way here, right now.”

“Oh well, it looks like I’ll have to find another job. I hate it when that happens.”

“WHAT!” Joe shouted “You’ve done this before?”

“Oh yeh, loads of times, all you need is some sucker that works for the PO, give him plenty of free sex and bob’s your uncle: somewhere to hoard the stuff. Flog anything you can and dump the rest. Only it was a bit awkward to dump this stuff so…”

“So you kept it here?”

“Yeh, funny, ain’t it?”

“No! We’ll get arrested”

“You might, but I won’t, I’ve been telling people for ages, I know about you, how you bring these letters and shit here and make me promise not to tell.”

The bag fell from Joe’s shoulder.

“How could you?” he cried.

“Easy” she replied.

Just then the doorbell rang; Maggie started crying and Joe answered the door.

“Mr Joe Knotts?”

“Yes.”

“We have a warrant for your arrest, may we come in?”

“Looks like you’d better.” Joe said.

He wondered what had happened; why Maggie would do this, he thought she loved him. Now he could see his mates were right. He closed his eyes to fight away a tear, from upstairs he could hear a policeman shout, “It’s here boss, yeh all of it.”

Then came Maggie’s voice, “Oh Joe, how could you.”

Joe was led away, in silence; the shock of what Maggie had done had taken over his very being.

The police car’s engine started, Joe looked back at Maggie. She was being comforted by a policewoman. She looked back at him and gave him a knowing smirk. He watched as they drove down the street, his house was gone, his job was gone, his life was gone and so was Maggie.