Seven Deadly Sins: People Behaving Badly - Very Badly

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

by Wilma Hayes

A Short Novella involving four people behaving badly - very badly.

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

by Wilma Hayes

Published by Wilma Hayes at Smashwords

Copyright 2019

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ISBN 978-0-9957870-4-9

All Kinds of Seven

Whoever thought that writing forty-nine short stories was a good idea needs to lie down in a dark room for a short while until it passes. That would be me, and I didn’t.

Seven is a lovely number and when I began these it seemed like an achievable task. The first little novella was quite good fun. I think you can see how it progressed from there and soon seven little novellas with seven chapters or stories each became the goal. It was a long slog.

The stories or chapters are all of similar length and I thought that they would make nice stories for a commute taking 10 to 15 minutes each, so 2 in a 20 or 30 minute commute and so on. Or a short or longer tea break if you prefer! Naturally everyone reads at different rates, so these times are my best guess.

Some of the stories in each set are like chapters in a book, in that one logically follows the other; some are quite individual tales but with commonality. None of them follow the Seven theme too strictly, but stories are like that; they wander off piste from time to time.

Naturally, I like some stories better than others and I am sure you will too. But I hope that they will help your commute to work or give you a few minutes for a cuppa.

See www.wilmahayes.co.uk for more information about me or other books.

Wilma Hayes

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

Everyone loves a good sin. There is enough material in these seven sins to keep writers busy forever.

The challenge I set for myself here was to use four characters in different combinations of two; each story dealing with one of the sins. In addition, in each I wanted one character to have the vice, the other the virtue but to switch positions at some time in the story. I'm not sure I succeeded but I'm happy to let you be the judge!

Lust is a sin with great possibilities for writers. Here we meet two of the main characters, Nick and Angela. They work together but naturally there are complications.

Gluttony is just good fun if you are a writer and here we find Nick and his daughter Jessica. Jessica is junior adult, asserting herself but also failing. Some of her associates are taking advantage.

Envy always has potential. Jessica and Angela get drawn into a dangerous situation. They each see something in the other that they admire but have to rely on their own resources, some quite dramatic, in order to save themselves.

Greed lingers in some people. We meet Bob and his unusual connection to Nick. They have been sparring with each other for years. Here we find out why.

Sloth is shown as procrastination and lack of responsibility here. Bob has to rely on his niece Angela when he has put off things needing attention. Stubbornness on both sides makes for an interesting dynamic.

Pride must be one of the most long reaching of the sins. Jessica meets Bob and each of them has an agenda. Bob sees opportunity and Jessica sees revenge. But they have a good time.

Anger leads to resolution in this story. All four characters play a part in which combining and overcoming old attitudes has them all making changes.

Wilma Hayes

Table of Contents

Lust

Gluttony

Envy

Greed

Sloth

Pride

Anger

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Lust

Eleanor made an appearance before Nick left for work and that was the worst of bad signs. She was just about sober, but mornings were an unusual drinking time even for her. It was the attitude that she was wearing that started it all off.

‘What’re you going in to work for at this hour?’ She scratched her rib cage. Nick thought of an orang-utan – orange hair shot off in all directions, face puffy with red across the cheeks. The body scratch was all that was needed.

‘Day shift. It means going to work in the morning. Not that you’re ever up to notice.’ He clamped his jaws onto the rim of the coffee cup to stifle a laugh. Instead it came as a snort.

‘Nick, you’re a bastard.’ She pulled her fluffy brown robe around her puffy body making the image of a primate even more vivid. She took a cup and the coffee pot to the sink and tried to pour. Some of it made it to the cup – and it was clear that this was a common state of affairs, hence the precaution of the sink. ‘I meant it’s Saturday.’

‘Eleanor, it’s not Saturday and if you don’t know what day it is, then I suggest you get some help.’

Nick knew he’d asked for it. The coffee pot smashed into the door of the fridge – well wide of his head if that’s what she meant to hit. He continued, ‘… and if it was Saturday, I’d still rather go to work than stay here clearing up after you.’

Her red cheeks were scarlet by now, ‘Then why the hell do you stay – get out! Get back to your filthy police station!’ By now she was screaming. She was still screaming when he backed the car out of the drive.

Why did he stay? Why the hell did he stay? He used the house as a place to sleep and eat breakfast. If it weren’t for Jessica, he’d be there less than that. In days gone by he’d hang around on Sundays if he wasn’t on duty and they’d go to the park when she was little or to a football match when she was older. Now she preferred late nightclubs with her friends to football with her old dad.

That’s what made him mad. He was getting older and life wasn’t getting any better. The whole thing was just going on around him – no one was in charge – least of all him. No life plan; no golden retirement ahead - not yet anyway; no plans for all the things he’d rather be doing. Hell, he didn’t even know what he’d rather be doing.

Nick crashed his office door open with his shoulder, and realized that he didn’t like himself very much. He felt as if he was responsible, all by himself, for whatever he now was. It felt like things would just get worse today.

The note from the super on his desk left little doubt that he wasn’t happy either. Today was already getting worse. The missing girl was still missing; they had no idea where she was or, god forbid, what happened to her. Nick needed to be seen to be doing something and fast. But everything they’d done led them to a big solid nowhere. Nick didn’t like not being in control of the way it was unfolding. Hell, it wasn’t unfolding at all.

Nick slammed the office door on the way out and went to see if the paperwork from social services was ready yet.

Damn it, Angela thought, I’ll kill him. This time I’ll really do it.

She opened the bottom drawer of her desk and handed Lisa a tissue box. ‘OK, tell me what he’s done?’

Lisa stopped crying at last. Gulping with hostility and with not a little bruising around her feelings, it all came out. ‘He wanted the Social Services report first thing this morning. I said that I had to get the data for it first and he just started to yell….’ Her voice crumpled again but she fought on. ‘… said that the data should have been in on Wednesday and why couldn’t he get a simple thing like a bit of paperwork done on time.’ Angela pushed the tissue box towards her and Lisa mopped up again. ‘Told me to stop what I was doing and get it done – he’d be back at 9:30 and it had better be ready.’

Angela felt her bile rising. Nick Tamberlane had no authority over her staff. This was bullying and they all, Nick included, had taken the training. Angela planned the order of the departmental work and if he had any complaints about it, he was to come to her, not berate her junior clerk.

‘Give me the report as far as you've completed it Lisa and the data you have and let me deal with DI Tamberlane. OK? Now go and get a quiet coffee and take a few minutes to pull yourself together.’

Lisa blew her nose and smiled in a hurt sort of way. ‘Thank you, Mrs Forsyth.’

Angela stacked the papers in a neat pile and laid them over her arm. Smoothing her skirt with the other hand, she walked in the direction of the office photocopier. She checked her breathing; it was even if a bit rapid. She was calm on the outside but steaming with anger inside. Her reflection in the glass in the corridor showed clothes straight, hair organized. The heels of her shoes made comforting clicking on the terrazzo floor past the other members of her department.

As she passed the corner a voice from behind said in an aside to someone else, ‘Gods, they’re off again.’ Angela leaned one hand on the corridor wall. Was it as bad as that? Her acting? Or did her face just say all that her careful body