A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

by Rosalind Stopps

  ‘No?’ said Ronnie. ‘Then what exactly is the point of it?’

  I thought about that for a moment. It was a good question. And even more pertinent now that I had her to look after. I took the gun out of my sleeve and had a go at loading it. It was more difficult in the dark and I wasn’t sure I’d done it right but I didn’t tell her.

  ‘There,’ I said, ‘that’s done.’

  We stayed quiet for a while after that. I was hoping she could get some sleep but I could tell from her sighs and wriggling that she was awake.

  ‘Hey,’ she whispered after a while, ‘hey, can I see your phone? I want to check something.’

  ‘I don’t think we should,’ I whispered back in the tiniest whisper I could manage. ‘I think someone might be outside the door. I’ve been listening and I can hear the odd rustle. My guess is, they’re waiting till I get my phone out and then they’ll burst in. I saw that in a film once. Or something like it.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. I could see she was still thinking.

  ‘What kind of phone is it?’ Ronnie said. She was speaking so quietly now it was almost like a voice inside my head. A breath in my ear.

  ‘Good gracious, I’ve got no idea,’ I said. ‘Some kind of iPhone.’

  There was a noise outside of footsteps as if someone was walking away, although I knew it could be a trap.

  ‘Show me, quick,’ she said. She sat up, moving without a sound.

  Ridiculous to say, but I felt struck down with embarrassment. The idea of pulling up my skirt and reaching into my knickers in front of this young person, even in the dark, was very odd. Not to mention that whoever had been outside the door might be there still, listening for any sound. She sat there, though, with her hand out waiting for the phone and I didn’t want to disappoint her. Enough things seemed to have gone wrong in her short life and I wanted to please her. Beside that, I was very aware that we were running out of options. If there was anything we could do that might increase our chances of getting out, then she was right, we should try it. I didn’t even know what she had in mind but I trusted her. It was as though she had become the grown-up in the situation.

  Ronnie turned away slightly whilst I groped in my knickers as silently as I could.

  ‘Here you are,’ I said, handing the phone over. ‘I’ve wiped it with a tissue, I hope that’s OK.’

  I could see that Ronnie was fighting not to laugh.

  ‘In this place,’ she said, so close to my ear that I could feel the warmth again, ‘with what I’ve seen and done, that’s the least of my worries. But thanks.’

  I turned the phone on for her and she started looking through the screens.

  ‘Bingo,’ she said after a moment, ‘you’ve got location services. I was worried you wouldn’t have it. Who’s Henry? He’s the person who’s going to be able to see where you are – I’ve switched it on. Shall we try sending him a text as well? Will he be awake?’

  I literally couldn’t answer. I felt so stupid to have forgotten, and on top of that for a moment, just a moment, I imagined that Henry was awake, at home, and that I’d be able to ring him and ask him to come and get me.

  I’ve got myself into a bit of a scrape, I’d say, and he’d say, well, I’m not surprised, you’re such a silly girl.

  Ronnie was waiting for me to answer.

  ‘Even better,’ I said, ‘Nina has that phone. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I’m so sorry.’

  Help, she texted, loc serv on.

  She gave me back the phone and I slid it into my knickers with the gun just before the door opened. It was Fiona.

  ‘Stand up,’ she said. ‘You, old lady, not the freak show.’

  She was a lot more thorough than the toad. She dug into my armpits, shook out my pockets, everything. Nearly everything. She did not venture into my knickers. How strange, I thought then and still think now, that a person who earns their money literally by selling access to other people’s private parts would not have realised that older women have private parts too. I was so affronted that I almost pointed it out to her. Instead I waited while she patted my bottom, looked in my boots and generally searched everywhere apart from the one place she should have been looking.

  ‘Not so clever now, are you?’ she said as she left.

  I would have loved, at that moment, to contradict her. I was glad my self-control had had a lifetime of training. As Fiona shut the door, Ronnie held up her hand in a high five gesture. I was becoming very familiar with this and I hardly hesitated.

  ‘We’ve just got to wait, and they’ll come and get us,’ Ronnie whispered. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you so much.’

  She curled up on the sofa and put her head in my lap. I could not have been more surprised. I could tell from her breathing she was going to sleep this time. It was a lovely feeling having a person asleep on me. Henry, the real Henry, had not been keen on physical contact. I couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be if I could curl up on someone’s lap too. I tried to imagine what that might be like, but it was a difficult thing to think about.

  The minutes went by very slowly. Of course I started thinking of Bingley, and imagining it was his head I was stroking, but after a while I was glad it was Ronnie. You can’t live in the past, that’s one of the only sensible things the old Henry said. Life moves on, and you have to move with it. So I wasn’t exactly scared, sitting there in the dark. Not for myself, anyway. I was terrified for Ronnie. I could feel her breathing under my hand and it didn’t feel right. Kind of jagged and uneven. Every few breaths there was a kind of catch in it, as though she had been running or crying. All I could do was hold her, and say very quiet nonsense into her ear in a calming sort of way.

  It’s common knowledge that when a person is dying, their whole life flits past in front of their eyes. I’m not sure about that, I suppose no one is, but that night I might have thought I was going to die, because I had an action replay of all sorts of things I didn’t know I had remembered. Getting married, that was one that I’d filed away under mistakes not to be dwelt on, I think. It was good to have a flash of how bright the morning was, how pleased I was to be wearing something pretty. Pale grey, my dress was, with tiny pink and blue flowers. It was fitted to the waist and then it swung out to the floor. I thought I looked as good as I ever had but Henry called it my wedding nightdress. I don’t know what happened to it but I didn’t wear it again.

  I remembered Henry’s death on a loop, too. Another sunny day, autumn this time. I’d suggested going for a walk, it looked so nice out. I wanted to feel the sun on my face before winter, I remember saying that and I remember Henry laughing.

  ‘The sun on your face indeed,’ he said. ‘Who’s been reading women’s magazines?’

  I hated the way he said ‘women’s magazines’, as if they were the worst thing in the world. Mostly they were quite cheering. And I hadn’t got the idea from there anyway. It was as if Henry didn’t, couldn’t, think that I was ever able to think for myself.

  ‘No,’ I said in my mild voice, ‘I just thought it would be good to get some vitamin D.’

  Of course that made him laugh all the more.

  ‘Now I’ve heard it all,’ he said, as if I had suggested something totally outrageous. A tightrope walk, for example, or a bungee jump.

  ‘After all,’ he said, ‘it’s not as if we have a dog to take for a walk or anything, is it, Meg? No little doggy wagging its tail at the idea of going walkies?’

  I don’t know why that made me so mad. Maybe because I hadn’t slept well the night before, listening to him snore through two walls. After all, it was no worse than the routine teasing on any day of the week. I just snapped, that was it, I think. I couldn’t take any more. I had so wanted to go for a walk and of course most people would say, why didn’t you just go? Those people haven’t lived with someone like Henry, that’s all I can say. It’s not worth upsetting some people, not if you have to live with the consequences, which I did. The last straw, people say, or
the straw that broke the camel’s back. We say it without even thinking about it but it’s a real thing, and that’s what happened that day. He had such a jeering tone as he said it, it broke my heart.

  I took my jacket off and draped it across Ronnie. The poor girl probably felt the cold much more than I did. She was so terribly thin, I could feel her bones poking into my lap as if she had no skin on her at all. I’d like to cook for her, the same sort of food I made for Bingley when he first arrived, I thought. Chicken, or lentils and beans if she’s a vegetarian. Rice, easy food to chew and food that stays down. Milk in small quantities and some potatoes. I planned an entire shopping list while we sat there. It’s amazing how similar humans are to dogs.

  I’m going to do it right this time, I thought. I’ve been given a second chance to save a life, to save two lives, actually, maybe even more. Nothing is going to get away from me this time. It doesn’t matter about the gun. I remembered a women’s self-defence course I’d gone to once, in the seventies. I had been looking for the pottery class but I’d found self-defence instead and I liked it much more. I never told Henry. He wouldn’t have liked the idea. I think he thought that he was all the protection I needed, which is a funny thought. Go for the eyes if you’re cornered, that’s what the instructor said. Index finger and middle finger, make a V and jab. You can’t be hesitant. Jab and twist. Don’t go all ladylike on me now, she used to say, own your actions. I took my hands off Ronnie for a moment and flexed them. They’re knobbly with arthritis now but apart from that I reckon they’re as good as ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Daphne

  Friday, 1 March

  Daphne decided against taking everyone back to her house. Meg’s house seemed like the right place to be. Most of them were familiar with it, and it was a way of keeping Meg involved and part of the gang even though she wasn’t there. Above all, it was a place where Nina felt comfortable. Grace gave a little nod and squeezed Daphne’s hand when she suggested it.

  ‘After all,’ Grace said, ‘she might be home soon and she’ll be pleased that we used her house as a base.’

  It seemed unbelievable to Daphne that Meg had been kidnapped, that she was in danger. Almost, but not quite unimaginable.

  It was after midnight when Daphne, Grace, Nina, Des, Gordon, Susannah and the Shoe killers got back to Meg’s house, and the street was silent. Daphne hesitated as she was about to put Meg’s key in the lock, and she was grateful when Grace understood and took the key from her. Daphne couldn’t stop going over things again and again in her mind to see what she could have done differently, how she might have kept Meg safe. It was hard not to let Nina see how worried she was.

  It was a relief when they split up into groups and left to do the search, even though Daphne was worried about Nina.

  ‘She’ll be safe in there with Clara,’ Grace said as Daphne looked back to the house. ‘Windows and doors locked, she’s got our numbers, and Clara is a force to be reckoned with.’

  Daphne, Grace and Des set off for Cliffview Road. It was the nearest of the addresses to Meg’s house, and Daphne was keen to stay close to Nina. She was sure they were on a wild goose chase, but it was right to check. Daphne knew how much Nina wanted to come but she was relieved that she was safe at home.

  ‘If he gets hold of me or Grace,’ Daphne had said to Nina, ‘he’s not going to know what to do with us. He’s probably got enough on his hands with Meg right now. I bet she’s driving him mad.’

  They were all quiet for a moment. Daphne had been hoping to lighten the atmosphere, make them laugh a little bit, but as soon as Meg was mentioned, everyone started to think about her. It was terrifying to think of what she might be going through.

  ‘She’s steely, isn’t she?’ Nina had said in a quiet voice.

  Steely, Daphne had thought, that didn’t sound like Meg at all. Grace was nodding, though, so Daphne nodded too, and they left Nina and Clara tidying the kitchen.

  ‘Honestly, Daff,’ Grace said as they walked down the road, ‘Meg does know how to look after herself. I know that’s not the impression she gives at first, but there’s something else, you must have seen it too.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ Daphne said, ‘but I trust you, and your opinions. I’m rubbish at initial impressions.’

  Grace sniffed and reached for Daphne’s hand.

  Des coughed and both women laughed.

  Daphne had an uneasy feeling that there was something she had forgotten, something she should have done. Des might have felt the same too, because he kept looking back over his shoulder. At the end of the second street he spoke.

  ‘I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t have left Nina. What if Clara goes to sleep? She looked tired. She must be scared. I could go back and check on her if you like. I can run, I’m a fast runner, and no offence, but I’d be back with you by the time you get to Cliffview Road. It’s just I’m not sure I trust her not to give Clara the slip. She’s smart, our Nina. I want to make sure she’s actually in the house, not running around trying to help.’

  Daphne thought that Des had a good point. It would put their minds at rest if he checked that everything was OK. Grace agreed.

  ‘Right,’ Des said, ‘see you at Cliffview, don’t start without me.’ He ran off back towards Meg’s house.

  ‘Are you OK, my lovely Daphne?’ Grace asked, as soon as Des was out of sight. ‘I mean, as OK as anyone could be under such crazy circumstances?’

  ‘There’s something we’ve forgotten,’ Daphne said, ‘I’m sure of it. Something important. You know that feeling you get, when there’s something you know underneath the surface but you can’t quite touch it? Like trying to remember a dream.’

  ‘Let’s talk it through,’ Grace said, ‘because it seems to me that how you’re feeling is the logical way to feel right now. In fact it would be crazy of you to feel any other way. It’s difficult to process what’s actually happened. Daphne, don’t you sometimes think we should tell the police now? I don’t like the police any more than the next woman but surely now?’

  Daphne tried to think straight but her thoughts were whirling.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘for and against. Two old black women, two homeless people and an ex con. The ex con, by the way, our lovely Des, he’s got history. I can’t go into it now but he had a high profile. In jail on a murder charge but released after years of campaigning, he’s the guy from Greenwich, remember? When the world still cared a little bit about racism?’

  Grace did a sharp intake of breath and Daphne thought that she should have told her earlier.

  ‘I remember,’ Grace said. ‘I thought I knew him but it wasn’t the right name. I campaigned for him.’

  ‘Don’t tell him,’ Daphne said, ‘he hates a fuss. He changed his name. Anyway, he’s not well loved by the boys in blue, you can imagine. Even without him though, and without the homeless people or the Shoe killers, even just you and me. Say we go to the police with a story about a girl. The police go to the house and they find him there, the toad, and I guess he’s got a contingency plan like letting all the working girls out of the back door, something like that. He’s told us he’s got papers that prove Nina is his daughter. On top of that, wherever he’s got Meg stashed away, he’s going to be so mad if the police come that he might just decide she’s, she’s…’ Daphne tailed off.

  ‘He might just decide she’s easier to move around when she’s dead,’ Grace said, ‘not to mention that it’s the women who get prosecuted if there is any proof of prostitution. So if he chooses to say “my daughter is off the rails”, I think the guys in blue might listen to him.’

  ‘But I can’t stop thinking about how scared Meg must be. And what if they actually hurt her?’

  Both women stood still, trying to work out what to do for the best. Daphne remembered how alone she had felt when she was with Andrew. She had gone to the police station once and had no help at all. Daphne shuddered as she remembered how terrible it had been not to be believed. It had taken e
very last shred of strength to walk into the police station in York and try to explain what was happening to her. The policeman had laughed. He’d looked her up and down and decided, just like that, that she wasn’t pretty enough or tiny enough or white enough to be telling the truth.

  ‘Listen to this,’ he had called to a couple of fellow police officers. ‘This lady here says she’s being forced on the game by her boyfriend. What do you think?’

  They had looked her up and down as if she was standing there naked. Daphne could still remember the shame she had felt.

  One of the police officers said, ‘I think this young lady had a row with her boyfriend, and decided to pay him back. Am I right, miss?’

  The policeman came so close to Daphne that she could smell the coffee on his breath. She made a snap decision to stand her ground, not to move away from him. Surely then, Daphne had thought, he would believe her.

  The coffee-smelling policeman laughed. He seemed to be some kind of senior.

  ‘First lesson in interviewing a woman,’ he said, ‘if she’s not intimidated, she’s a wrong ’un. Mark my words, I just got so close to this young lady that anyone with a clear conscience would have stepped back. She stood her ground, this one. I don’t think anyone would be able to make her do anything she didn’t want to do, if you catch my drift.’

  The others all murmured agreement.

  ‘We see lots of young girlies like you,’ the policeman said, ‘gone a bit too far with their fellas in the heat of the moment and then wish they hadn’t. If we followed up all of them, we’d never be able to catch the real criminals.’

  He had sent her away, Daphne remembered, and then patted her bottom as she turned to go. She had no choice but to go back to Andrew. She hoped things had changed, that today’s police understood more, couldn’t act in the same way, but still she couldn’t trust them.

  ‘No police,’ Daphne said now, more than fifty years later. ‘No police yet, anyway. I think we were right. Let’s see if we can do this ourselves. Just one day of trying, then we need to work out a story that doesn’t include Nina and get the police, the army, anyone we can who can help Meg.’