forget everything. My heartburn merged into something else – for the first time in weeks I felt my own heart beating again, faster and faster the more I took in her face. It was like I’d been dead and she’d brought me back to life.
I’ve never seen anyone I wanted to kill more.
‘I don’t know her,’ I lied, barely able to sit still.
‘You know her face, don’t you? She’s dyed her hair but it’s her all right,’ said Jim. ‘I expect she’s been given a new name, new home, all on the taxpayer’s ticket. I bet those kiddies never got as much.’
‘What kiddies?’
He leant across the table. ‘Don’t you remember? She was the one taking pictures of these kiddies at that nursery. Sending them to these horrible men. Little boys. Babies. I think they’re still in jail. Pity she isn’t, rotting. I hope Elaine doesn’t notice she’s back round here.’
‘Oh god, that’s awful,’ I said, watching Huggins’s three chins as her mouth worked on her Danish. That one word circled my head like an eel: babies. Babies. Babies. She’d done it to babies.
Huggins was still as pig-dog ugly as the selfie they’d printed in the paper months ago. Not one of her teeth was aligned and she had the most disgusting forearm tattoos (names in Arabic writing, the obligatory Harry Potter quote, etc). There was a green coat on the empty chair next to her and a red leather handbag, gaping open like a saggy mouth.
‘Vile woman,’ said Jim. ‘No, she’s not a woman, she’s a creature. I’ve got half a mind to go over there—’
‘Don’t Jim, think of your palpitations.’ Hypocritical of me I know, seeing as I was pretty tachycardic myself at the time, only for a whole other reason.
He started his deep breathing exercises. ‘I’m all right, I’m all right. Just can’t believe that is allowed to walk around free. Should have thrown the key away. I don’t know if I want this scampi now.’
‘Come on, try to relax. It’s all right.’ The refrain of ‘Spice Up Your Life’ popped into my head and began reeling through it like ribbons.
‘If Elaine sees her she’ll go spare. One of the women at WOMBAT, her granddaughter used to go to that nursery. That Huggins creature had four kids of her own you know, all got put into care. Nasty.’
It always amazes me how such a warthog manages to get laid so much. Then you’ll catch a glimpse of what’s been banging it – some eight-stone diarrhoea streak with three teeth and sovereigns on every finger. You know the type. There was no sign of a man today though – just a mousey woman in a paisley dress and questionable ankle boots.
Sandra was so close I could smell her cigarette smoke.
You need to nip this one in the bud, you cannot kill her. And stop sniffing that smoke. It’s not good for me.
Mind you, I’d need an elephant gun to take her down.
As Elaine was bringing over our scampi, Sandra moved her chair back, as did the Mousey Ankle Boots. Sandra scuffed towards the trolley parked next to ours at the café entrance and wheeled it away.
‘Sorry, need the loo again,’ I said, getting to my feet.
I followed Huggins and Friend through the bedding plants towards an area of terracotta pots set out in towers on wooden pallets. The women were heading towards the herbs. The mousey one was clearly some kind of social worker – she had a lanyard around her neck and the tag read ‘NewLeaf’ – a quick Google confirmed my suspicions. NewLeaf was a rehab centre for ex-offenders. The closest branch was Plymouth. Obviously Sandra’s case worker.
Mummy, what are you doing?
Mousey Woman’s handbag was on her shoulder, but Sandra’s red leather one was in the trolley, next to two geraniums and a bag of compost. She was picking out her herbs. I ducked down. I had to wait an age before they moved away from the trolley and went to compare lavender plants around the corner. Because I only had seconds, I decided to live within my means – I took the first thing my hand fell upon inside the bag – a small brown envelope – then walked away slowly, blending into the celebration roses.
Inside the envelope was more than I could have hoped for – a wage slip from Mel & Colly’s Farm Shop. Their logo was crossed carrots on a potato. The name on the payslip was Jane Richie – her new moniker perhaps. I knew where that shop was – out towards the motorway. I had her full new name, her National Insurance number, the total hours she’d worked that month.
I even had her address.
Monday, 23rd July – 11 weeks, 1 day
Jim asked if there have been any Airbnb bookings for the Well House.
‘No, not yet,’ I said. ‘But I’m sure there will be, any day now.’ Of course there won’t be. Not now I’ve buried AJ in one of the flower beds up there.
I can’t stop thinking about that old sow Huggins. You’d think that dismembering a body in a bathtub would leave me sated for murder for a long time but it hasn’t. What if the ‘serial killer cycle’ is shorter when you’re preggers? What if the feeling of balance and completion doesn’t last so long when you’re killing for two? There’s nothing in the pregnancy books on it, of course, and Google is next to useless on the subject. Though my in utero Jiminy Cricket is putting the kybosh on all those sort of shenanigans via tiredness, heartburn and nausea, I want it so bad. I want her so damn bad.
Plymouth Star guy is back on the doorstep but he hasn’t knocked. He’s just sitting there, looking all handsome and fed up. I wonder if he wants my body? The state it’s in right now, he can have it.
I went downstairs and peeked through the net curtains – there was a bunch of flowers next to him on the step. I opened the door.
‘What’s this?’ I said, startling him into standing up.
‘Hi,’ he said, picking up the flowers – yellow and white roses – and handing them to me. ‘To apologise for hassling you.’
‘You’re apologising for hassling me by hassling me. Are they bugged?’
He laughed, biting his lip.
‘They are, aren’t they?’
‘No no, they’re not bugged I assure you.’
‘Be a waste of time if they were bugged anyway. We don’t talk about the case at home.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
I pretended to zip my mouth. ‘You’re not getting in that way either, Sneak. I know your game.’ I smelled the roses. They didn’t carry any scent at all – mass-cultivated supermarket crap. Ugh. I handed them back to him.
‘You’re going to have to try harder than that.’
‘What do you like then?’ he said as I was closing the door. ‘Tell me and I’ll get it for you. Anything.’
‘Not
