by Mel Sherratt
As she walked to the tube station, she heard her name being shouted. She turned her head. Jack stood across the road, waving to get her attention.
She waited for him to reach her, moving to one side so as not to stop the flow of pedestrians. This could go one of two ways, she surmised, after the fool she’d made of herself on their return from Ascot. Although she had apologised profusely over and over about hitting out at Oscar, she still recalled the night with embarrassment. It could have meant the end of everything. Was he now catching up with her away from the office to warn her about her behaviour?
To her relief, Jack was smiling when he drew level with her.
‘I’ve been to a meeting,’ he said. ‘I was on my way home when I spotted you. Do you fancy a quick drink?’ He pulled his shirt away from his torso. ‘That is, if you want to spend any time with someone who is hot, and possibly very smelly.’
Esther’s laugh was false but he didn’t seem to realise. Slowly and surely, she was reeling him in. She nodded enthusiastically.
‘That would be nice.’
They walked to the Albert, each catching up with what the other was doing work-wise. She stayed outside while he went in to get drinks. The pavement seemed to be as full as the bar, and even if it was noisier, it was definitely cooler.
He joined her moments later and they stood together. They smiled at each other, each unsure what to say next. Esther tried to keep her emotions in check.
To give him his dues, he was great eye-candy and really good company, with a dry sense of humour that she loved, but still, every time he touched her, she had to stop herself from slapping away his hand.
Now he was asking her why she was single. She wanted to say why don’t you mind your own business, but instead, she pushed away her anger and concentrated on the task in hand, which was lying through her teeth.
‘I’ve been on my own now for six months after a long relationship went sour. It finished at my insistence, though.’
‘What happened?’
Jack leaned across the table for her hand but she managed to pick up her glass at the same time. Again, she began to talk about her made-up life.
‘We were going nowhere but I don’t think either of us wanted to break up.’ She smiled at him shyly. ‘The sex was non-existent; we hardly spent any time together, like passing ships in the night. I’d do my own thing more than want to be with him. He’d be off out with friends.’
A car horn peeped as a driver cut another up and she jumped. She began again, on a roll now.
‘Occasionally we got together, maybe a holiday here and there but we were both ready to get back to routine and normality as quickly as possible. I think in the end we became more like flatmates and even that wasn’t enough. Eventually I left him and lodged with a friend.’
‘Ouch.’
She shrugged. ‘Much better than staying together for the wrong reasons, don’t you think?’
‘I guess.’ Jack took another sip of his drink.
‘Tell me about your children,’ she said.
Jack’s wide smile made her so angry. He had what she would never have. She’d always wanted a family of her own but she doubted any man would stay with her long enough.
‘They are two great boys. To be honest, I wish I was around more for them during the week and I’m always busy most weekends even when I am at home. But I suppose it means they can have the best of everything.’
‘Are things any better with Natalie?’ Esther fingered the stem of her wine glass, as she tried to get him talking about his personal life again. She hadn’t learned as much as she had hoped after the trip to Ascot, because of the scuffle with Oscar interrupting everything. ‘I don’t mean to pry, but …’
Jack sighed. ‘It’s complicated.’
Esther waited for him to open up more but he looked ahead wistfully. Maybe he felt as much of a failure as she did in her life. Good, she smirked.
They chatted for a few more minutes and then Jack downed the rest of his drink. ‘I need to get back,’ he said, ‘sadly … I really enjoy your company.’
‘We could do this again?’ Esther suggested, staring directly at him. ‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’
He leaned forward and kissed her on each cheek. ‘I’d like that.’ He smiled.
She stared into his eyes. She knew that look he was giving her had meaning.
Once on the tube home, Esther wiped at her cheeks where Jack had put his lips. Why did he have so much and yet clearly thought he could have more? He wanted his wife and she was sure he wanted her as well. Of course, she would have him but, despite that, why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he had?
It was past 8.00 p.m. when she exited the tube station and made the last few minutes’ walk home. She couldn’t be bothered going out again now.
She turned into Trevorbir Road, and stopped. There was a man sitting on the steps. She recognised the stoop of his shoulders first. Then the sweep of his dirty-blond mid-length hair, the tuft of a beard. Large hands were clasped together in front of him as he smoked a cigarette.
It was Danny Bristol.
She wondered whether to double back, but even as he turned his head, caught her eye, and stood up, she realised there was no point in running. He was a persistent bastard. If she didn’t speak to him now, he would come back until she did. He might even break in to her flat and wait for her. She couldn’t have him doing that, especially knowing what he would be looking for. If he found it, he would take her money too.
With heavy feet but shoulders held high, she made the last few steps between them. Maybe the anger she felt towards Jack would serve its purpose after all.
As Danny jumped down the steps to street level, Esther took a deep breath. It was time to sort this out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
‘Hello, Tiger,’ Danny greeted Esther. ‘Long time no see.’
Esther managed a faint smile. ‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
‘I have my ways.’ Danny’s grin was in no way friendly. ‘It’s not hard to keep tabs on you, even with a wig on. I prefer your hair blonde though. That red looks cheap and the black is so severe.’
Esther said nothing. He was trying to unnerve her, intimidate her but she wasn’t the weakling she had been a few years ago. Getting what she wanted from him had been part of the bigger plan too.
‘I saw you in the city,’ he continued. ‘I followed you to a flat in Westminster, watched you for a couple of days. I thought you lived there but then I realised you must work there.’ He sneered at her. ‘Quite the little wage earner now, aren’t you? I wonder what your new boss would think if she knew the real you, hmm, Tiger?’
Danny had always called her tiger. She’d met him when she was seventeen and he was twenty-one. They’d been in the same pub and a fight had broken out. She’d tried to stop a man from attacking her friend. Danny had pulled her away as she’d jumped on the man’s back. She’d ended up giving him a feisty kick in the balls and doing a runner.
She’d avoided the pub for a while because of his threats but when she’d bumped into him two weeks later, he’d been all over her. They’d started dating and only when it was too late to leave did she realise he’d reeled her in. He’d told her they had a connection, that he wanted to be with her. But he wasn’t really interested in her, only what she could do for him.
The relationship had been damaging. It was on-off, brutal, and reinforced everything she thought of herself: she was a bad one, she didn’t deserve to be loved, and she wasn’t going to get the happy ever after that she craved for.
Danny should have been her saviour but instead he’d got her hooked on drugs. She’d started dealing for him, and eventually selling herself to pay off the debts she racked up with him. Back then, she’d been so wasted, she hadn’t realised any of this, but now she was clean, she saw him for what he was: a manipulating leech.
She stepped around him, almost flinching as she waited for his hand to reach out and grab her. ‘Are you coming in?�
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But he turned and followed her into the hallway. She closed the front door behind them, took him upstairs to the flat and into the living room. Watched as he eyed the place up.
‘Not bad,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘It’s a shit hole.’
‘Better than some places I’ve stayed. Surprised you can afford it on your own though.’ He glared at her. ‘You do live here alone, don’t you?’
Esther nodded. She went through to the kitchen. There was a half-open bottle of wine in the fridge.
‘Don’t you have any lager?’ Danny asked. ‘Or whiskey?’
She shook her head. ‘I could make you a coffee instead?’
He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her backwards towards him. ‘I don’t want a fucking coffee,’ he seethed, spittle flying over her face. ‘But I do want what you have of mine.’
‘Ow, let me go!’ Esther squealed, but Danny’s grip tightened.
‘Where is it?’
‘Don’t Danny,’ she pleaded, fearing losing a fistful of hair if he didn’t loosen his fingers.
He brought his face down next to hers. ‘Where is it?’ he demanded.
‘I spent it,’ she told him. ‘I had to. I needed things.’
‘I mean the gun.’
‘I don’t have that either.’ His fingers tightened and she yelped. ‘I sold it on.’
‘Who to?’
‘Some guy in a pub. He gave me a hundred quid for it.’
‘You sold my fucking gun?’ His fist rose in the air and she lowered her chin into her chest. She couldn’t let him mark her face.
‘I’m sorry! I had no money and I was desperate. The gun was hot and I got rid of it for you. You do believe me, don’t you?’
‘I’ll never believe anything you say. But the old crowd misses you.’ He sneered.
She didn’t want to think about the others. She wished she could wipe out her past but it was burned into her memories. She had been nothing when she was with them. She was worth more than that now.
‘I know you still have it.’ Danny broke into her thoughts. ‘I always know when you’re lying.’
It was then that Esther clicked in. He would never harm her because then she couldn’t tell him where the gun was. Of course, he might ransack the place and find it in time but if someone heard him and called the police, he wouldn’t want to draw attention to himself. Because the gun was evidence against him. It linked him to at least two murders. She was going to take it to the police once she was on her way out of London.
‘Why don’t we have that drink?’ she said.
Releasing his grip, Danny pushed Esther forwards. She managed to stay on her feet, but her hip connected with the corner of the worktop, making her grimace. Pain shot through her, yet she didn’t cry out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
She rubbed at her head before she searched out a bottle of vodka. All the while Danny’s eyes flickered around the flat; Esther could see him searching out potential hiding places. She wondered why he wasn’t trashing the place right now.
She had to get rid of him, make sure he never came back.
This man had ruined her life. He was the one who had hooked her on drugs. He’d made her sleep with his friends to pay off his debts. He was the one who had beaten her if she ever crossed him.
He was the one who had said he loved her. Yet, for every punch, slap, bite, or kick, Esther had vowed to get revenge one day.
While he wasn’t looking, she slipped her hand behind the bread bin and located the knife. There were several of them strategically placed around the flat for this very occasion. She tucked it into the waistband of her trousers before he came back.
She handed him a glass. ‘Cheers.’
Esther kept her hand on the bottle. She had to look for every opportunity to get Danny out of her flat. It wouldn’t do to hit him with it. He was harder than that, could retaliate and hurt her. But she did know what she could use instead.
‘I need the bog,’ Danny said. ‘Is it through there?’
She nodded. It was possible he’d rip the bath panel off as soon as he stepped foot in the room. But he wasn’t leaving with the gun, or any of her money. Behind the settee was another weapon. She reached for it.
‘Oh, and Dan?’
His hand rested on the doorknob as he turned to her.
She drew back her arm and with all her force, hit him in the face with the baseball bat. Blood splattered across the room from his mouth and he dropped to his knees with a groan. It was the element of surprise that she needed as she raised her arms up again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Esther sat on the floor with her back to the wall, staring at Danny. Or, what was left of him. By the time her anger was spent, there was a bloody mess where his face used to be and he wasn’t moving.
She’d prodded his foot several times to no avail. But she couldn’t get herself to move towards him, because she would be disappointed if he was alive.
She was glad that she had taken the bat to his head. She was glad that he had suffered as much pain as he had inflicted on her over the years. She wouldn’t be sorry one little bit if he was dead. Well, apart from having to dispose of his body without being caught.
But then, as panic set in about how much trouble she would be in, she crept across to him. His face was swelling already, bruising forming underneath all the blood. His hair was matted in the stuff. She reached for his wrist and felt for a pulse. There was nothing.
‘Dan,’ she said, nudging him in the chest. When there was no response, she squeezed his arm. He pressed her fingers to his neck, ignoring the icky feeling of his blood on the tips. Still, there was no pulse.
He couldn’t possibly survive the amount of times she had hit him.
He was dead.
She had killed him.
There was no hysteria. She couldn’t quite understand her feelings but it seemed as if a weight had been lifted from her. Gone were the times where she would have to look over her shoulder, dread the thought of what he would have done to her now that he’d found her. He would have made her work for him again.
She kneeled beside him. First, she checked his pockets. Finding his wallet first, she checked through it, taking out the notes. She placed the leather pouch by her side, aiming to get rid of that tomorrow. She searched through the inside of his jacket, stopping when her hand felt something squishy. She pulled out a large clear bag. Her eyes widened when she saw what it contained.
Amphetamines. Speed, all in tiny bags measured out and ready for distribution.
Shit. She ran a hand through her hair as the urge to take a bag and snort it up her nose right now became so strong that she shuddered. Quickly, she put it with the wallet, vowing to get rid of that in the morning too.
For the next half hour, she got to work cleaning her flat, hoping to erase all trace that Danny had been there. Then she set to work on him. First, she covered his head with a plastic bag to stop the blood from leaking again – really, she couldn’t stand to see the sight of what she had done – and then she dragged him to the front door. She removed his shoes in case they might make a noise along the floor. By this time, it was midnight; far too early to make a move.
She waited until 2.00 a.m. before opening her front door and creeping outside. The light in the hallway came on automatically, and she cursed. She wouldn’t be able to break the bulb. She would have to be quick. Most people in her block would be asleep by now. If anyone did come home, or hear her and come to investigate, she would have to say he had knocked on the front door and begged for help and that she was going to ring the police. That was if she could get the bag off his head quick enough.
She would have to be extremely quiet too.
She unbolted the back door and crept out, closing it quietly behind her. At the bottom of the garden were the remains of an old sectional garage. The roof leaked and it had weeds growing inside it, but it was full of building materials, and rubbish collected over year
s. Esther had searched it out as soon as she had arrived, and it was clear that no one went in there.
Inside was a large, plastic bunker full of compost. It had taken an hour to remove enough of it to make a big enough hole to put Danny’s body inside, and then cover it over. Getting him to somewhere else would have been much trickier.
She wasn’t sure if he would start to smell, hidden inside the compost, but by that time she would be long gone.
It had taken her what felt like an age to get Danny out of her flat, along the hallway, and out of the back door. Once outside, she felt a bit better but knew she still had to be quiet. Sweat poured from her at the exertion. Rigor mortis hadn’t quite set in as she’d pushed his body into the compost and covered him over.
Afterwards she rested for a minute. No lights had come on in any of the flats or surrounding buildings so she’d gone inside. She’d quickly cleaned the hallway as best as she could afterwards. No one would notice a few extra stains on the threadbare carpet.
Once back inside her flat, she took a shower to rid herself of all the dirt and blood. It was nearing 4.00 a.m. and, even though she was exhausted, she wasn’t going to get any sleep now. Maybe she could …
The white powder in the bags was calling her. She picked one out, placed it on the palm of her hand, staring at it. She wanted it so badly but she was scared of the consequences.
But after what she’d just done, she needed something. A little bit wouldn’t hurt to take off the edge.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Thursday, 6 July
The night before the launch of Something’s Got to Give held mixed emotions for Esther.
First, she had enjoyed being friendlier with Jack over the past two weeks after the debacle with Oscar.