It was pouring down with rain, no-one was around. Margaret felt a great sense of relief as she struggled to put the cover back over the septic tank.

"No-one will know," she thought to herself. "Tomorrow I'll nip down to the auto repair shop and buy a can of paint to touch up the scratches on the car."

Drenched to the skin, Margaret peeled off her clothing carefully placing them into a plastic bag made her way to the bathroom, naked and shivering from the cold. Taking the little nail brush, Margaret stood under the shower, in desperation she scrubbed at her body trying to rid herself of all traces of blood. Feeling more relaxed, she allowed the warm water to run freely over her body. She was definitely feeling better now that all traces of the blood had gone.

"What am I going to do with my blood stained clothing," she thought. "Maybe if it's dry tomorrow I could burn them in the incinerator at the bottom of the garden."

The front door opened. Ken, Margaret's husband proceeded to take off his jacket shaking the rain off in the hallway before hanging it up.

"I'm home darling!" he called.
Wrapping a towel carefully around her slender body, Margaret made her way into the kitchen to greet him. She gave him an exceptionally long kiss, which made him remark on how unusual it was, especially as she was practically in the nude.

"What have you been up to?"

Inwardly Margaret began to tremble. "He knows. My God what am I going to do!" she thought. Quickly she blurted out that she had just been late night shopping and had called in to see her friend Jane on the way home. Out of the corner of her eye Margaret spotted the plastic bag that contained her blood stained clothing. How on earth was she going to remove it without arousing suspicion. The matter was taken out of her hands as Ken walked towards the plastic bag. Margaret froze inside.

"That's a strange place to keep the rubbish. I'll put it outside for you."

Margaret didn't know what to do so she just thanked him and told him that she would get dressed quickly and prepare dinner. Hopefully Ken wouldn't look inside the bag, as she had no idea how she was going to explain away the blood. But she needn't have worried as Ken just opened the dustbin and slung the bag quickly inside, closing the lid on her secret and rushing back into the house to escape the rain.

During the evening Ken asked Margaret if the Council had been to empty the septic tank. She suddenly felt a constriction in her throat. The blood drained away from her face and her knees trembled. Margaret tried hard not to look at Ken as she said,

"No, I don't think so. When did you ask them to come?"

"I didn't. I left a message by the telephone for you to ring them. Didn't you see it?"

"No, I haven't seen it," she said as she stood quaking in her shoes.

"Can you take care of it tomorrow then?" she heard her husband say.
A feeling of great relief came over her. Pleased that she hadn't seen the note, at least now she had given herself a little more time.

Margaret managed to retrieve the plastic bag of clothing from the rubbish bin and rather deviously she burnt the pieces of clothing one by one. To distract her husband from the obvious at a later date, she burnt lots of old rubbish and pieces of wood for she knew by now that the ashes from the clothing were well and truly covered.

Having done a remarkably good touch-up job of respraying under the front left light of the car, Margaret discarded the can of spray paint and was feeling quite pleased with herself. She felt relaxed and quite certain that she had got away with her crime.

Two weeks passed by. Ken remarked on the awful stench coming from outside the bathroom window.

"You really must call the council," he insisted. "It smells just like something is dead out there."

Margaret's heart nearly jumped up into her throat. If only he knew. Her mind raced. What the hell could she do! It then dawned on her that Ken always goes fishing on Saturday mornings well before daybreak. That would give her almost twelve hours to herself.

"Yes," she thought. "I'll have plenty of time to empty the septic tank myself and Ken won't be any the wiser."

On Saturday morning Ken left the house at three o'clock to go fishing. Margaret waited a good fifteen minutes before venturing out of bed just in case Ken had forgotten something and returned. Feeling very confident she then put her plan into action.

First she found an old broom and tied a bucket to it. Going outside in the dark, she was glad she could see a little with the aid of the light coming from the bathroom window. As she walked towards the septic tank she was already feeling nauseous and very afraid. What would she do if he were floating on the top? How would she react if his eyes were staring at her? Trying hard to pull herself together, she tugged at the lid and pushed it over to one side. The awful stink hit her and she immediately vomited. Deciding that the smell was far too repugnant she walked away from the tank but reality hit her. She had to do it because if she didn't, the council workers would uncover her awful secret.

Bracing herself, Margaret walked back to the septic tank and pinching her nose together with her fingers avoiding looking into the hole, she lowered the bucket. The smell was abominable but between retching and crying she got bucket after bucket out, dispersing it all over the property, as far away from the house as possible. Deciding the bucket wasn't doing the job quickly enough, Margaret found herself a large empty three litre fruit juice can. Carefully she made a hole near the top of the can and tied it to a tomato stake with the aid of some wire. She then very cleverly fetched the wheelbarrow from the shed and proceeded to fill the wheelbarrow up with the contents from the septic tank. Thus making her job easier. Three hours passed. The light of day was slowly poking its way through. She knew he was staring at her. Determined not to look at him she glanced to the side and as she did so her pulse raced. His leg was balancing on top of the can she was about to pull out. In horror she lowered the can back into the tank emptying its contents. Almost throwing up again, she told herself she could not take much more of this. She walked away. Margaret knew she had to finish the task. It was all so repugnant to her, it took her every ounce of courage to go back to the tank, but by nine o'clock Margaret had become quite an expert and had learnt to ignore his stares. After all, she hadn't meant to kill him. It was either he or her.

The tank was now three quarters empty. That would suffice she concluded, feeling exhausted. Margaret slid the cover back over the septic tank. Knowing that he was still staring at her she said,

"It was your own fault. Don't make me feel any more guilty than I already do!"

Swiftly she hosed down the area where she had been working taking special care to scrub out the wheelbarrow and discard the old can and stake. Thankful that the worst task of her life was behind her, she marched into the house and gratefully took a long, long shower.

"Thank God it's over," she said to herself as she tried to relax with a book on the sofa. The silence was broken by a knock at the back door.

"Can I come in?"

The blood rushed to Margaret's head. She was petrified. How would she face this woman, her friend and neighbour. Putting on a brave face, Margaret got up from the sofa and walked to the door to greet Rita.

"I've missed you," she said giving Rita a big hug. "Did you enjoy your two weeks holiday down at the Gold Coast?"

Rita totally ignored her. "Oh Margaret! Ricky's gone! He has left me! I can't believe it. The neighbours say that they know nothing."

"Why, what's the matter with him, where did he go?" Margaret asked all too quickly, trying to hide her fear! Her trembling legs almost giving her away.

"Nothing as far as I know. He's just (she paused), missing," Rita said. "My mother hasn't seen him for two weeks, have you?"

"No, no I haven't," Margaret replied, feeling more than a little bit nervous.

"It's just so awful!" Rita continued. "I'm so lonely without him. He is such a good friend to me. I'm simply terrified at night when he is not around."

Margaret was feeling more and more guilty by the second. "What can I do to help?" she asked Rita, trying hard not to have eye contact with her for fear of being found out.

"Well, you could go around the neighbourhood with me. Maybe someone knows his whereabouts. I 've already been to the police station and reported him missing. The radio station will be giving out his description later today. I just hope no harm has come to him!" she said between tears.

Rita and Margaret traipsed around all morning. No one had seen sight nor sound of Ricky. Margaret was well aware that they were wasting their time but she had to keep up the pretence.

"It's really strange," Rita carried on, "how no-one has seen Ricky. He usually goes and collects the paper every morning from the post box. My mother said it was definitely two weeks ago since she last saw Ricky. She remembers bringing him over a pot of stew. He scoffed the lot and seemed perfectly all right then."

The days dragged by for Margaret. Guilt was slowly getting the better of her. She could neither sleep nor eat. Her mind just kept wandering off towards the direction of the septic tank, then over to Rita her neighbour.
"What have I done?" she asked herself. "In such a short space of time my whole world has turned upside down. I just live in fear of a knock on the door. My life has no meaning any more. I'm so unhappy. Things can't continue this way, tonight I'll tell Ken the whole truth."

That same night Margaret cooked Ken's favourite meal, Lasagne. She would tell him her awful secret after he had eaten. He would be feeling more relaxed by then.

Unbeknown to Margaret, Ken had stopped at Rita's house on his way home from work to invite her over for dinner. He was certain Margaret wouldn't mind. They were, after all, friends. Anyway, he didn't like the thought of her being alone each night. It would do her good. Walking up the path together, Rita turned to Ken and asked,

"What's that awful smell around your place?"

Ken said that he wasn't sure but it could be the sewerage as they had just had it emptied.
Margaret's heart dropped like a heavy stone would to the floor as they both entered the kitchen. Pretending nothing was wrong she greeted them both cheerfully.

"I was just saying to Ken, that's an awful smell you have outside."

"Yes it is bad," Margaret agreed, "but it should settle down in a couple of days."

It turned out to be a long, boring and nerve wracking evening. The conversation had centred around Ricky all evening and where could he possibly be. Margaret was very glad when Rita announced she was tired and got up to go. Ken walked Rita home while Margaret cleared away the table and filled up the dishwasher before retiring to bed. There was no way she was going to tell Ken tonight. Not after she had seen how upset he was about Ricky still being missing.

"If I tell him now," Margaret thought, "he would most probably report me to the police or even divorce me. I'm certain to lose my house into the bargain, just because of one lousy slip up."

Carrying six bottles of bleach into the shed the next day, Margaret decided as soon as she had half an hour to herself, she would pour the whole lot down the toilet. That should get rid of the stench. There couldn't be much left of his body by now and anyway, the bacteria would have eaten away at it. Having done her dirty deed she flushed the toilet and felt a great surge of relief as the smell of bleach hit her nostrils. Discarding all the empty bottles into the rubbish bin, Margaret began to relax and feel more like her old self. No one would look in the septic tank again for at least two years, by then they would have moved interstate.
Margaret was in for a big surprise! As her husband drove up the driveway he looked very annoyed.

"You will never believe what has just happened. Look at my flaming car. I've got a huge dent on the front and my left light is smashed in. A stupid kangaroo decided to jump out in front of me. I tried my best to avoid hitting him but my reactions weren't quick enough."
He then took Margaret to the boot of the car.

"Look!" he said. "Rather than let the crows have him I've brought him home. I thought it would be a good idea to put him in the septic tank now that it is empty and build up the bacteria again."
Margaret hit the ground with a thud. Alarmed, Ken picked her up and took her inside the house laying her on the sofa. He bent her head forward between her knees.

"I'm so sorry," he said as Margaret came to her senses. "I had no idea you were so squeamish." He thought the sight of the dead kangaroo had made her faint. Little did he know!
Confident that his wife was feeling better, Ken made his way to the car. He tugged away at the carcass, which was quite large. Full of despair, Margaret watched as its lifeless body flopped onto the ground. Her pulse was by now beating so loudly it sounded as if she had a set of drums in her ears.

"What am I going to do?" she screamed out. How will he react? Will he ever speak to me again after he uncovers my awful secret? The tears ran down her face burning her cheek.
Ken dragged the kangaroo as near as he could to the septic tank. As he reached out to pull the cover off the tank, Margaret raced outside.

"No, no!" she screamed. "Don't lift up the lid. I've got something to tell you."

At that, she tore at his shirt pulling him away. Ken was shocked to see his wife so hysterical. Putting his arm around his wife he led her back into the house. Between tears and hysterics Margaret blurted out the whole story. Feeling very ashamed, she explained how she was driving home in the pouring rain one dark night and as she turned the corner to drive up to their house, Ricky suddenly appeared from no where and dashed onto the road straight into her car.

"I braked as hard as I could but I knew from the awful thump on the front of the car that I had hit him," she said. "I didn't mean to!" she cried. "I really didn't. I checked him over but I could see from his head injuries that he was dead."

Margaret then proceeded to tell him how she had brought him home and laid him to rest in the septic tank. By now Margaret was distraught.

"It's not the end of the world," she heard Ken say. "Funny you know, I couldn't understand why I had been sleeping so well the past few weeks. Now it's obvious. It seems that you have done the whole neighbourhood a favour. Ricky kept us awake most nights of the week with all the noise he made. Hugging Margaret close, he said, "Tell you what, if you can keep a secret then so can I. Tomorrow I'll buy Rita a new one - but I'll make sure it is one that doesn't bark all night!"

 

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