June 2011
Everyone knows him, the guy with the number twelve shoes; his diamond patterned multicoloured coat and the white face with the red nose.
Who is this man, where does he live, has he a family or someone only scrubbing a living at kids parties or standing blowing balloons at a fair?
Jenny Deveraux was not aware of him until he strangled her that aftemoon at her home.
Jenny was a deserted mum with two boys. Her husband, suddenly, a year ago, decided he had to leave to do his own thing. He couldn't take the boring excistance of the life that they were living.
She therefore had to find employment. She had spent fifteen years looking after the family and helping her husband to run the small workshop where he spent much of his time.
She hadn't seen much reward from the business, he had lost interest and spent more of his time at the pub drumming up work, so he said. So when he left there wasn't money enough to keep them going, so she took a job at the supermarket.
Finding there was more money made working the late shift she realised by working those hours she had more time with her boys on school holidays. They were eight and eleven, so relatively responsible, and her neighbour gave eye to the lads in the evenings.
You meet all sorts in the shop and on this shift they were all folks at work or the loners coming in for a quiet shop and the fact of seeing other people. She began to notice this chap who came in most nights, looked smart but a bit threadbare in his clothes. He was charming and always had a joke to share to make her laugh. Jenny began to watch out for him and point out to him the special offers. He was always grateful and his cheery word broke up the monotony of the long evenings.
She was in a bit of a quandary as her husband John was trying to work his way back into their lives. Apparently life wasn't all that exciting on his own and of course he had no one to wait upon him. She didn't know why he had really left her, but thought it had something to do with the barmaid in the pub. She had been so devastated when he walked out. Life hadn't been that exciting for her, but she had loved him and given her all. I suppose suddenly to be told she was not needed for requirements made her feel totally unsure of herself. The other thing was the boys still loved him and possibly needed their dad. She felt that she had to get away to work things out in her mind so with half term coming up she took the boys off to her aunt Maggie's caravan in Norfolk.
Joker lad had been going to the shop every day and no Jenny, he knew her name with the name badge she wore and he also knew where she lived as he followed her home one night, then every night just to be sure she was ok and not molested.
He started to watch the house and saw a man coming and going. No sign of Jenny. It wasn't fair, he was the one to look after her, she needed him and there was now another man taking over. He determined to dress up in his clown's disguise and knock on the door saying he was here for the party booked.
This he did; unfortunately on the day Jenny had returned. Her husband had been in feeding the cat each day and he opened the door, Joker was filled with rage when John asked who the hell he was, and clear off you stupid old fool, dressed up like a kid. So he pushed in and hit John very hard knocking him out. When Jenny appeared, falling to her feet to help her husband, he realised she had just been leading him on and was another of those bitches who had always spurned him in the past. He put his huge hands round her throat and squeezed. He came to his senses when there was a ringing of a bell, it went on and on and he couldn't stand it. He turned over in bed, threw the alarm clock across the room and awoke.
. . . were you taken in by me being The Joker?