by June Taylor
‘Oh my poor heart bleeds. You had the chance of a good life, Karin, and you threw it away. You wasted it. While you were tossing it off at some ridiculously posh boarding school, I had nothing. I hardly ever went to school, and you had everything. You even had my dad.’
‘But that was nothing to do with me. And money isn’t everything, Mel. I can vouch for that.’
Mel pushed her face into Karin’s. ‘Go live off nothing again then, if you enjoyed it so much.’
You will anyway, she thought. Mel kept that to herself for now.
Karin was completely cornered; she knew she was. Yet she still persisted with her bleating. ‘You should be punishing my mother, not me,’ she whined. ‘She’s the one who had the affair with your dad. I didn’t.’
‘Except I can’t get at her though. Your mother’s too strong and powerful. But I can get at you.’
‘What about all that money I gave you on my birthday? Five thousand pounds.’
‘Oh big deal! You owed me nearly three for all the rent and bills I’d forked out for. Do you seriously think that’s enough for what we went through, me and my mum? We had shit lives, Karin. Because of you. Shit. Lives.’
‘Then why didn’t you just ask me for a bit more money?’
‘A bit more?’
‘I tried to offer it to you, I’m sure I did, and you declined. I thought you’d be embarrassed. But if you’d told me all this stuff I would have shared all the money with you. Gladly. If I’d known you were my stepsister, Mel, of course I would. Why didn’t you just do that?’
Mel took a long inhale. It was good to make her wait.
‘You know, you’re right,’ she said, eventually. ‘Money isn’t everything. It’s really not. That’s why I want everything you have, Karin.’
‘What do you mean everything?’
49
Karin
Karin realized this slow process of asphyxiation had been going on for some time. How hadn’t she noticed? She was going over the key moments, repeatedly: the signs she had missed, the doubts she had simply brushed aside. Why hadn’t she spotted the vultures circling above her head, waiting to pick over her rotting carcass?
Both Will and Louie had tried to warn her that something wasn’t right. She knew all along that neither of them was behind those notes, yet had allowed Mel to convince her otherwise. Karin didn’t think for a minute that Louie had been round to threaten Mel that night either. That too was a lie.
So Louie really had been trying to protect her, after all, to keep her money safe. Too late now, it was lost forever.
But at least Mel couldn’t get to it.
Mel was still next to her, gloating. Karin could feel the resentment coming off her like static. To think of all those times when she had crumpled in her arms, allowing Mel to console and guide her, the friend in whom she had complete trust. Best friend. Surrogate sister.
Worst enemy.
Showing weakness was the last thing Karin wanted to do in front of her now. All those years of being belittled and berated by her mother had taught her to turn her tears into ice when she really needed to.
‘So these past months, you’ve just been waiting to punish me,’ said Karin. ‘Those notes were from you, weren’t they?’ The hate in Mel’s eyes suggested something darker. It led Karin to wonder about Will, and a terrible thought crossed her mind. ‘He never stole anything, did he? Will. You set him up.’
Mel’s face was crawling with spite. How could such a kind face – a face Karin thought she knew well, a face that once came to her rescue on the streets of Leeds – suddenly look so detestable?
‘So did-did you kill him, Mel?’
She was silent.
‘I said, did you kill him?’
‘Well let’s just say we had a bit of a party down by the river. He could knock back the whisky that one, for someone who didn’t drink. Very grateful for the extra supplies, he was, too.’
‘You took him more?’
‘He was so drunk that when I squeezed his balls, he just – fell in. It’s your fault, Karin. If you weren’t going to tell me why you were so afraid of going to the police, then I had to give you a good reason myself. And that weirdo mute was getting on my nerves. Plus he was beginning to suspect something, always following me around, watching my every move. He was a waste of space.’
Karin struck Mel hard on the cheek. Mel put her hand to her face, but the grin was still there. Karin couldn’t believe the extent of her ugliness; any shred of pity she may have had for her was now well and truly gone.
And yet.
In spite of herself, Karin still found it tragic that Mel had not seen the value in what she had gained.
‘Doesn’t it mean anything to you that we’re stepsisters?’ she asked.
Mel thrust her face into Karin’s again. ‘Do you honestly think I give a shit about you when your family ruined mine?’
Karin pulled away. Not because she was intimidated, but because it was time for Mel to have the full picture.
Just as Mel had filled in the gaps for Karin, she could do the same for her now. Karin didn’t expect it to change anything; Mel’s bitterness had rotted her down to the core. She was a decomposing carcass, putrefying in her own decay.
‘I know why your dad did what he did,’ said Karin.
‘And how would you know that?’
‘Because I was there. I was there when he had the rope around his neck.’
Karin gave her a moment, assessing whether Mel actually wished her to continue, then carried on anyway because she needed to hear it.
‘I’d never set eyes on him until he was suddenly married to my mother. I guess he must have been around all the years I was growing up, especially in view of what you’ve said.’
‘So why did he do it then?’ Mel snapped.
‘Our fathers had become friends, apparently. Good friends, according to your dad. Even though my dad knew all about the affair.’
‘A doormat. That figures. Anyone could wipe their shit all over him.’
Karin told herself to ignore the swiping because Mel was a victim too. ‘I guess he just loved my mum. Too much. Look I know you’re angry, Mel, and I don’t blame you. I’m angry too.’
‘Just tell me why he topped himself, will you?’
Karin paused. How far should she go with this?
‘Okay. So erm. So he told me that the reason he couldn’t live with himself any more was because he’d witnessed my dad having a heart attack. And I mean like right in front of him.’ Karin felt her voice falter. She cleared her throat, trying to focus on the facts rather than how they made her feel. ‘And he just watched my dad die. He did absolutely nothing until it was too late. Deliberately called the ambulance once he knew my dad was already dead. This is what he told me, Mel. You can believe me or not but it’s the truth. Your dad told me he was really ashamed for what he’d done. Or rather, not done.’
She paused.
‘And there’s something else too.’
‘What?’ Mel said, tersely.
‘He said that he was also ashamed because he’d deceived his wife and family for all those years. Especially his daughter. Said he couldn’t live with himself any more, carrying round so much guilt.’
At that point, Karin felt the full force of her own guilt; it punched her in the stomach. She wished she could tell Mel the complete truth. If she did that, though, she would certainly end up in jail.
The words came out as if they had been pre-recorded:
‘And then he kicked the steps from under his own feet and hanged himself. It was very quick, Mel.’
Karin allowed her another pause.
It was Mel’s turn to look anguished. Unlike Mel, Karin got no pleasure in saying any of this.
‘I wish I’d known it was you he was talking about. I could have loved you as my sister, Mel, I really could. That would have made me so happy.’
‘Sod that. Your happiness is no concern of mine.’
Clearly Mel had ma
de up her mind a long time ago only to hate Karin. Revenge, money, they were the only things that would sweeten her bitterness now.
‘There’s something else you should know, about what happened,’ Karin heard herself say. She could feel the blinding pain between her eyes.
Legs swinging.
Side to side. A human pendulum.
‘We tried to save him. Me and my mother. Both of us tried really hard. But we couldn’t get to him in time. He’d already kicked the steps away before we could reach him.’
Karin’s heart was racing so fast she could hardly manage to breathe. Her fingers tightened round her wrist, cutting off the blood supply to her other hand.
‘I really couldn’t care less,’ said Mel.
At that moment Aaron appeared, fresh out of the shower. A fragrance of shampoo trailed behind him into the kitchen, but it was soon choked by the bleach.
‘I’m going to pack,’ he announced, filling a glass of water from the tap, drinking it in one go. He filled it up again and took it with him, heading back out.
‘Aaron,’ shouted Karin.
She shot up and followed him into the bedroom.
He was reaching for his suitcase from the top shelf of the wardrobe. Karin wondered if he had noticed the one she had already packed for herself. He was ignoring it if he had.
‘I’m sorry, Karin. I’ll let Mel explain.’
50
Mel
‘Oh, well, I had to give him the odd nudge along the way, a gentle steer every now and then. But honestly, Karin, you tied the noose around your own neck. I didn’t have to do much in the end.’
Mel lowered her voice even more to make sure Aaron wouldn’t hear her from the bedroom.
‘You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. I considered it enough times. I could have gone about things in a very different way: revealing my true identity, make you love me as your sister, persuade you to give me all your money and then strangle the life out of you. Make it look like a tragic suicide. The number of times I’ve stared at your pretty little neck, imagined my fingers around it, squeezing the life from you as I watch your eyes bulge out of your privileged fucking head.’
Aaron came back into the kitchen. ‘We should get going,’ he said. There was an urgency about him, pulling on his jacket, looking around for things he may have forgotten.
‘Where are we going?’ Karin asked.
Mel sniggered, waiting for Aaron to put her out of her misery. She found his silence unmanly, looking more apologetic than triumphant, and Mel hoped he wasn’t faltering. But she was determined to enjoy this moment whatever. It was the icing on the cake and she had worked hard for this, waited years, and wanted it to be as perfect as she had always dreamed it would be.
‘Not you, Karin,’ said Mel. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘One of you! Please tell me what the hell is happening here.’
Mel gave her a what does it look like sort of a smile. It was such a relief not to have to go through any more of that best-friend stuff and what-would-she-do-without-her nonsense.
‘We have a plane to catch. That’s what’s going on,’ said Mel.
‘Are you two—?’
Karin’s voice disappeared into nothing. She was directing her question at Aaron, but as he still refused to make eye contact with either of them, Mel had to step in again with the answer.
She stood directly in front of Karin.
‘I said everything, didn’t I? Aaron deserves better than a liar and a murderer as his wife.’
‘You’re accusing me?’ said Karin, bursting into laughter.
She dodged round Mel and marched up to Aaron, waiting for him to look at her. He did, eventually, but not in a way that worried Mel particularly. He didn’t seem like a man who was going to change his mind. Sick and tired of all Karin’s secrets and lies.
Besides, they had slept together twice now and made solid plans for the future.
Aaron belonged to her.
‘You know she got rid of Will, don’t you?’ said Karin, pointing the finger at Mel. ‘She thinks she can pin it on me, but the truth is she got him drunk and pushed him into the river.’
Karin folded her arms, flicking out her chin at Mel.
Mel hoped she would persist in this playground behaviour, because it showed her to be the immature fool that she was. ‘You brought it on yourself, Karin,’ she replied. ‘All of this. And, quite frankly, we don’t believe a word you say any more. Will clearly wanted a sniff of your money, because you very foolishly told him about it. The same with your lesbian friend. I told you not to brag, Karin.’
‘I did no such thing.’
‘Am I right in thinking Will stole some of your jewellery?’ Mel continued. ‘You wanted rid of him, so you plied him with whisky, knowing he was an alcoholic, threatened him on Woodhouse Ridge and later that evening pushed him into the river.’
‘I did not.’
‘Whatever other little secrets you hold, Karin, I dare say you’re not going to want the police getting any closer now. Are you?’
When Mel had finished her speech, Karin came towards her but chose to stop in the middle of the room. She seemed to want centre stage, arms folded. Mel thought she might have an idea of what Karin was about to say.
‘Terribly sorry to burst your bubble, Mel. But the money is still sitting in Louie’s account. That feels like a certain kind of justice to me.’
Mel pretended to consider that carefully as she circled round Karin. Wanting to make her punishment last even longer. After a couple of rotations, she positioned herself shoulder to shoulder with Aaron.
‘Are you going to break the news, or shall I?’ she asked him.
Aaron flickered slightly, indicating it should be Mel. She would have liked more from him at this point, but it was enough to show his solidarity.
‘Okay. Well, I think we can safely say that we got to Louie before you did. We struck a deal with the crazy bitch.’
‘What sort of a deal?’ said Karin.
Mel took her time, refusing to be hurried, even though Aaron kept checking his watch.
‘Lover girl was desperate to come and see you one last time. Wanted to see if you really loved her, wanted to die in front of you. Isn’t that sweet? We weren’t going to stand in her way, as long as she didn’t get in ours. Right then, Aaron. Are we all set?’
He seemed keen to make a quick exit, which Mel took to be a good sign. Aaron tossed his backpack over his shoulder, making for the hallway where their suitcases were waiting.
Mel followed, knowing Karin wouldn’t be far behind.
‘Oh. Now there is just one more thing,’ said Mel, stopping abruptly so Karin’s shins bashed against her suitcase. ‘You do need to be out of here by the end of today. And, strictly speaking, you should have been out of the Headingley place by now, but you’ve Aaron to thank for that. I was all for giving your stuff away to charity. The new tenants moved in this morning, so I’m afraid your things are downstairs in the hallway. The locks have been changed though, so you’ll have to knock. We know what you’re like for putting homeless people in other people’s houses. So, Karin. I’m afraid it could be back to your old address again. The Dark Arches, Leeds. You never know, someone might randomly stop and buy you a cup of coffee and a cheeseburger.’
Mel reached up to Aaron and planted a kiss on his mouth, stroking the back of his neck.
Poor, stupid Karin.
‘Aaron,’ Karin called to him in desperation.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
51
Karin
It was winter time. They were out in Stockholm for a few months. Snowy buildings and clear blue skies, ice skating at Kungsträdgården with her dad. They always split their time between Scotland and Sweden. Karin had various tutors travelling with them back and forth. It was a strange isolated upbringing. She never went to school, not even förskola, or nursery in the UK. Her dad had wanted her to go, and Karin felt that she might like to try it, but it was her
mother’s decision. Always her mother’s decision. Karin never had any friends. Then aged eight it was straight to boarding school.
A sense of shame raced through her conscience as she considered these things. Tears burning the backs of her eyes when she thought of her mother. Karin had punished her, for sure, but it never felt quite as good as it ought to have. Because it was never meant to end the way it did. At the same time, where were all the ice creams, the bedtime stories, the hugs and reassurances as a child when she was troubled or afraid? Where were the treats and trips to the park? On the face of it, Karin had everything most girls could ever dream of. Mel, for example. And yet she had nothing. She couldn’t recall ever being in her mother’s arms. Not once. Not even when her dad died.
Frozen as the ice on Lake Mälaren.
Karin was brought out of her trance by a duck quacking and splashing at a boat coming past, disturbing its peace. She watched the boat go by, the duck bobbing up and down on the waves it left behind. This was Will’s spot. She had come here to reflect. Sitting on the bench that was nearest ‘his bedroom’, she had forgotten how peaceful it was here during the day. Cyclists and dog walkers, people strolling by. But she could never forget how threatening a place it was at night.
Another boat was approaching. Karin could make out a dog standing on deck as if in charge. When the boat drew level, she noticed the dog staring at her. Did it know what she was thinking? Had it seen things? Was it thinking the same as her now?
That Will did not deserve to die. Not here, not like that. In this river.
Will’s death was the one that bothered her the most. She missed Louie with the same amount of sadness and sorrow, but what Louie did was ultimately her choice. That wasn’t the case with Will. He had been relying on Karin to keep him safe.
Safe.
In this new world, to which she had introduced him. She had given Will assurances and guarantees.
And she had failed him.
So now it was up to Karin to put things right. That was the least she could do. For Will.