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Crasken hell, part 3 - ‘Cruella and Dumbcunt‘

During the many visits to Crasken Farm over the years I had often been updated on all the gossip, but, not being any of my business and having no interest, anyway, I took very little notice. Now, living in such close proximity, it became intolerable and worse, I was getting dragged in. I would always say that I was not interested or that I couldn’t comment on anything that I was not witness to. It wasn’t long before I was being told that I had been known to ‘entice young girls’ to my caravan with the aid of the cats and drugs in order to take advantage of them.

It quickly became evident that the wicked comments were coming from the same source as all the rumours floating around.

Tammy is the ‘wife’ of Duncan, the landlord. As I understand it, she arrived at the farm some time ago in an old coach (the one John had lived in) that had been driven there by Duncan. She was always at pains to inform people that she was not a gold-digger. She volunteered this suggestion without being asked, so much so that one felt that she ‘protesteth too much’. Whenever her actions or words were questioned, she would ‘turn on the waterworks’. She is very adept at manipulation.

Though I’m not a psychiatrist or profess to know all about psychiatry, from my understanding of what I have researched, Tammy displays all the classic signs of a sociopath.

As a result of her behaviour and the general all-round neglect of her surroundings, particularly towards animals, she earned the nickname, Cruella deVil. I think it was John who came up with the name as we sat wiling the evening away in his yurt. Duncan became Dumbcunt for ignoring all the signs and pleas from his friends, including me.”

There was a time that whenever I visited, Duncan would come down the ’drove’ and sit around my table smoking bifters and chatting shit with me. There were also times however, that he would be in tears bemoaning how Tammy treated him. I tried to warn him, but it was difficult. How do you tell a mate in his 50s that the big-titted blonde in her 20s that he says he loves is a sociopath hellbent on destroying everything around her?

I remember one evening during one of the many parties, an old friend of Duncan’s had visited. I had met him myself some years back. He and I were sat around the fire chatting. He told me that he had mentioned to Duncan the idea of staying for a while. He went on to tell me that the response was that he was instructed to ask Tammy. In due course, Tammy joined us around the fire. Duncan’s friend, whose name I’m sorry to say, slips my mind at present, took the opportunity to enquire, as instructed. The answer of course, was a resounding no.

One by one, all Duncan’s friends left, often acrimoniously, I believe. It appears to always be for the same reason, too. I was the last.

The turnover of residents soon mounted, too. Very few lasted for more than a year. It also became evident that the reasons for being required to leave were the same; they were all accused of owing rent and stealing.

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