Stephanie, who had never done anything more violent than set a mousetrap, let her mind race through the dramatic climaxes of films she’d seen and books she’d read. Scarlett turned away from her and opened the fridge. ‘I’m sure there’s olives and cheese in here, we can have some nibbles while Simon finishes cooking,’ she said. ‘You two must be starving.’
Stephanie knew she’d simply have to act without thinking about it. In one smooth movement, she picked up the knife Simon had been using on the onions and stepped up close behind Scarlett. With her left hand, she grabbed the thick tail of hair, twisting it round her hand and yanking it backwards. Scarlett yelped in shock as her head jerked back, exposing her soft throat to the sharp blade that Stephanie drew from left to right. The knife was so sharp that neither woman felt the impact of the cut.
A sudden gusher of crimson spurted forward, staining the packed contents of the fridge and splattering against the brilliant white interior. Stephanie pushed Scarlett away from her and stepped back. Her former friend crumpled to the floor, blood spreading in a pool from the grinning gash in her throat. Air gurgled in the blood, a gruesome sound Stephanie thought she would hear for ever in her nightmares. Spasms racked Scarlett’s body and her hands twitched and contorted as they tried to reach the wound.
Stephanie threw the knife down. Then she remembered all those TV dramas and picked it up again, taking it to the sink. She grabbed a nearby towel and rubbed the handle clean, then ran it under the hot tap. It would be identifiable as the murder weapon, but it wouldn’t have her fingerprints on it. She did the same with her Prosecco glass. She didn’t think she’d touched anything else, but she kept hold of the towel. She felt like she was outside her body, watching herself do these things but not actually part of them.
She glanced down at her clothes, checking for obvious bloodstains, but saw none. The blood had all spurted forward, leaving her clean. She took a deep breath then turned back to the mess she’d made. The blood wasn’t flowing any more, just seeping. It was amazing how fast someone could bleed out. And how much mess that blood could make.
Stepping carefully to avoid contaminating herself with Scarlett’s blood, Stephanie made it to the door. Using the towel, she opened it and stepped into the cosy hall, carefully shutting the door behind her. Ahead of her, a wide wooden staircase rose to the upper floor and Stephanie climbed carefully, taking her time over each step. She remembered having felt like this on the one occasion she’d smoked dope; her body didn’t seem to be a living thing any longer. It was more like a giant robot suit inside which she was manipulating the controls.
On the upstairs landing, light and noise spilled from a doorway. Stephanie walked unsteadily to the doorway and made herself smile. ‘You look like you’re having fun,’ she said. Jimmy and the two men were putting the finishing touches to building a Lego railway, testing the motors in the trains and the levers that moved the points.
‘It’s the most fun I’ve had in years,’ Nick said, looking as if he meant it.
‘I’m sorry I’ve got to break it up,’ she said. ‘Jimmy, we need to go home. If there’s anything you want to take with you, grab it now, because we really do need to be on our way.’
Nick was first to react. He scrambled upright and hoisted Jimmy into the air. ‘What do you say? Anything you can’t live without, Jimmy?’
‘Wait a minute,’ Simon said, struggling to get to his feet in the tight corner where he was penned by Lego and a toy chest.
Jimmy looked around, frowning. ‘My DS,’ he said, pointing to the small Nintendo console lying on the bed. Nick scooped it up and headed out the door. Stephanie moved back to block the exit.
‘Wait a minute,’ Simon said, lunging towards the doorway. But Stephanie didn’t budge, and his reluctance to hit a woman bought Nick and Jimmy valuable seconds. He gripped her upper arms and tried to shift her bodily out of the way, but Stephanie resisted. ‘What have you done, you mad bitch?’ he shouted. ‘Where’s Scarlett? Scarlett?’
Finally, he used his superior weight against her and simply pushed her back. He ran down the stairs, shouting Scarlett’s name. The yelling stopped abruptly as soon as he opened the kitchen door. By the time Stephanie had recovered her balance and made it to the bottom of the stairs, he was kneeling in Scarlett’s blood, cradling her head in his lap. ‘She didn’t leave me any choice,’ Stephanie said. ‘It was me or her. You know that.’
Simon didn’t even turn his head. ‘My love,’ he kept repeating, his voice cracked and broken.
Still moving like a woman in a trance, Stephanie carried on out the front door towards the little car. She was only a ghost, after all. She’d never been here. A single thought kept reverberating inside her head. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.
You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.
How to Speak Like a Scarlet Harlot
all round the houses: by a circuitous route; indirectly
all sorts: all kinds of things
arsed, as in ‘can’t be arsed’: can’t be bothered
arsing about: messing around
Asian: British Asian as used here; from the subcontinent, i.e. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh.
beam ends, as in ‘on their beam ends’: also, ‘on the bones of his arse’: lacking funds; without a cent to their name
Benidorm: Benidorm is a satirical comedy series set in the Spanish resort of the same name, characterized by vast high-rise hotel complexes and ‘English pubs.’ Benidorm is the destination for many cheap package holidays for people who are interested in getting as much cheap drink and sunshine as possible in seven days. Dante would have included it in one of his circles of hell.
blagging: bluffing
a bob: a buck (literally, a pound), money: a shilling, in old predecimal money. A nickel would probably be the closest equivalent in relative value.
bones of one’s arse, as in ‘on the bones of his arse’: lacking funds
the bottle, as in ‘Has she got the bottle?’: nerve
braces, as in ‘belt and braces’: suspenders; so, belt and suspenders, metaphorically, would be thorough
carry on (as in ‘all Joshu’s carry on’): carry on baggage
CCTV: closed circuit television; spy cameras.
chalk, as in ‘not by a long chalk’: measure; so the expression means no way; by no means
chops, as in off their chops: a bit crazy; or drunk. Dependent on context
clogs, as in ‘pop one’s clogs’: die
come the, as in ‘come the toff’: pretend to be posh
copper: police officer
copping off: attracting a potential sexual or romantic partner; hooking up
cornet: a waffle cone minus the gourmet pretension
firkin: Old English unit of measure meaning a quarter barrel. Also, a barrel size.
fist, as in ‘made a better fist of’: did a better job of
grafter: hard worker
grass [someone] up: betray them
home from home : home away from home
house room, as in ‘giving thoughts like that house room’: space in your life
Indy: the Independent, a daily newspaper
jammy, as in ‘jammy bastard’: lucky
Jansch, Bert: Scottish acoustic musician, both as a founder of Pentangle and as a solo artist