Equally nervous, Kevin nodded slowly. ‘Sure.’
Ed opened the door and led the way through to the kitchen. Clicking the kettle on, she turned to face Kevin. ‘This isn’t awkward at all, is it?’
Her sarcasm made him smile, ‘I may be a little nervous,’ he admitted. ‘Been a while since someone invited me in for coffee.’
His eyes were so guarded, and Ed herself felt really nervous too. Stupid really, since they’d both seen each other naked. Trouble was, she really didn’t remember a whole lot about it. She’d been way too drunk that night. Not too drunk to be able to make a decision to sleep with a guy she met in a bar, but too drunk to remember the details.
Fuck this. I need to break the ice here.
Decision made, she leaned forward and kissed Kevin hard. She felt his body stiffen in shock, then relax as he allowed her tongue to explore his mouth. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she finally pulled back.
‘Figured I’d break the ice,’ she murmured, her cheeks glowing with belated embarrassment. How forward was that? You couldn’t have just made the coffee?
‘Definitely broken, in fact I’d go so far as to say melted completely.’
Knowing if they stood there looking at each other like they were, they’d be stood in the kitchen all night, she turned and busied herself making coffee. Handing him a cup, she kicked off her shoes and made her way through to the small but comfortable living room. The corner couch pretty much took up the whole room, a fact she’d known when she’d ordered it, but it had been so comfy she couldn’t resist. Even with the minimal amount of space left, she’d never regretted the impromptu purchase.
She pulled her legs up under her bum, and rested her arm on the back of the sofa as Kevin sat down beside her. It was her turn to freeze as he put his coffee down, put a gentle hand to her face, and kissed her. She leaned into him, tasting the faint hint of coffee on his tongue. Her hand snaked up the back of his head, and she tangled her fingers through his hair as the kiss deepened. Breaking it suddenly, she jumped up and silently led the way to the bedroom.
Stupidly pleased she’d remembered to make the bed, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She saw him hold his breath as she undid the next two buttons, then let go as he moved towards her. Kissing her hard, he pulled at the fastening to her blouse, scattering the remaining buttons all over the floor. Then his hands were on her breasts, the lace bra setting every sense on overdrive.
He lowered her to the bed, leaving her mouth open as he kissed down her stomach and pulled at her trousers. She lifted her hips off the bed to help him, not opening her eyes for a moment. There was a pause as he rolled on a condom, and it was almost too much – her skin felt like it was on fire at every point he touched. And when he loomed over her, she opened to him like a flower, hot and ready, gasping as he sank inside her.
She didn’t want slow, she needed him hard and fast. Moving her hips, she sped up the motion, nipping his lips with her teeth as she scraped her nails down his back. And he understood. Moving them both towards the inevitable climax, he thrust into her, capturing her mouth with his again for a lingering kiss. Feeling her climax mount, she pulled him to her even tighter, his chest hard against hers as he pushed them both over the brink.
As they settled down to sleep, their limbs entwined together, neither noticed the shadow cross the landing under the light of the door.
2nd October, 0330 hours – Garage 21, garage block, Darlington
She sat in the tatty armchair she’d managed to find abandoned one day, surrounded by books and scrawled notes. She’d changed her mind – her initial plan of somehow getting accelerant into Kelly-Ann’s car wouldn’t work. It was too hard to break into the car, especially without it being noticed. So she’d resorted to researching what accelerant would be best used to create a hot, fast burn.
It was helpful being a student of forensic science: she had access to all the books in the library and no one batted an eyelid if she booked out all the arson publications. It was like a dream come true – so much information to hand, and she had access to it all.
Granted, she had to come to the garage with them – no way would she be able to get them past her dad. He checked her bag every day, once when she left the house and again when she entered. He checked her pockets and patted her down, touched her in places fathers weren’t supposed to touch their daughters. Not in a sexual way mind you, but he touched none the less. And his eyes were always filled with a blank, sad look. Like he did it because he had to, like there was no other choice.
There was another choice, of course, he could leave her alone to live her life.
One good thing came out of her father’s persistence in checking her belongings for anything fire related – it had made her organised, given her amazing attention to detail. The times she’d been caught with something inappropriate, he’d turned on a sixpence. Doing his best to beat her urges for fire from her. And her mother looked on without a wisp of emotion, believing her husband had to do this. She knew they resented her, saw in her all the bad. She knew they wished for a different daughter, one who knew how to behave and didn’t go around setting fire to things.
She saw the look of suspicion every time a fire was mentioned in the news – even though the police had never had cause to come knocking, her parents always believed she was responsible. Sometimes she had been, and she’d just smiled at them smugly. Letting them know that it didn’t matter that they locked her in the crappy room in the attic, that they pretended to everyone around that theirs was a happy family with no problems, silently telling them that she wouldn’t change, and daring them to question it.
They were so wrapped up in trying to keep her confined and controlling her so she didn’t have the freedom to come and go as she pleased, that they never once noticed that the skylight was always open just a touch. She could reach it easily by standing on the wooden chair they left up there for her to sit on. She could slip outside silently, and climb down the drainpipe to the neighbour’s flat roof. From there it was a hop, skip and a jump into the alley, then she was away. She sneaked in equally easily. Once they locked the door to the attic stairs, they didn’t unlock it until the next day.
Turning her attention back to the makeshift shelves at the back of the garage, she glanced over the stock pile. Lighter fluid, white spirit, even a green petrol canister filled to the brim with fuel. She was careful to keep the candles away from the shelves, it wouldn’t do to cause an accidental fire.
Seeing the light reflect off the material, she wandered over and placed a loving hand on her prize possession. The one thing she had that she knew one day she would use, the thing that would protect her as she watched flames take control of a whole house. They were still pristine – the fire retardant and heat proof trousers and jacket, and best of all, the respiration mask. It was amazing what you could buy on the internet. And even more amazing that she had such awesome friends who would accept parcels to their address without ever querying the contents.
The other two knew she didn’t get on with her parents, though they had no idea why. She was their friend – so whatever she said had to be true. She gave minimal information away, really. Her friends didn’t know about her obsession. Or rather they did, but they thought it was all in the interests of science.
She frowned, knowing that if they ever found out that it would end their friendship. It was never her intent to hurt her friends. They could never find out that she’d killed Glen, or that she intended to hurt Janelle. It just wouldn’t do. But she could at least let them know that Janelle had it all coming.
Seeing the time on the illuminated face of her phone, she decided to head off to bed. She had a funeral to go to tomorrow, after all.
Climbing the pipe back into the attic was harder than shinnying down, but she dropped back into the room in hardly any time, pulling the skylight closed as she stood on the chair. She lay down on the mattress on the floor, pulled the duvet up around her ears, and closed her eyes.
It wouldn’t be long now.
2nd October, 0600 hours – Janelle’s residence
Janelle had been awake for most of the night. She couldn’t sleep – too many thoughts running round her head. She couldn’t believe it was here already – knowing the service was that morning made it all seem real, and she didn’t want it to be real. She still kept expecting Glen to come over to her at uni, laugh at her for crying and tell her he’d just been messing about.
For the first time since she’d found out about Glen, she felt a surge of anger. The dean had told the whole class that the family had agreed that anyone could attend the service, but that they wanted the funeral to be kept private for family attendance only. It boiled her piss to think of people turning up to pay respect to someone they hadn’t even known. And she knew the family had kept the funeral private on purpose – they’d never liked Janelle. She knew that. Glen’s mother had always given her evils, made her feel as though she wasn’t worthy of Glen’s time or friendship. It was almost as if they were saying her friendship with their son meant less than nothing – she didn’t even deserve to attend his funeral.
Knowing she couldn’t stay in bed a moment longer, she got up and wandered downstairs. Her mum was asleep on the sofa, her arm hanging limply beside her, her fingers curled on top of the carpet. She snored softly, her head bent at an awkward angle as though she’d dropped backwards off the edge of the arm of the couch. Janelle almost felt sorry for her – almost.
I need a drink. If there’s ever a day for JD to become my best mate, it’s today.
Going into the kitchen, she pulled one of the tatty chairs from beside the table, climbed up and reached for the bottle she’d hidden there a week ago. Her fingers curled around the cool glass and she lifted it over the top of the unit. That’s when she realised it felt too light – staring as it came into view, she already knew it was empty. There wasn’t even enough for a dribble let alone the large swig she’d wanted to take.
Furious now, she clambered back off the chair and stormed into the living room.
She grabbed her mother’s glass off the table and threw the clear liquid over her mother’s face, satisfied as she woke with a jump, disorientated and wondering what was happening.
‘Is it not enough that you’re a filthy, pathetic drunk?’ she snapped. ‘You have to nick the only bottle of fucking JD I had in the house too?’
Her mother stared at her vacantly – she plainly had no clue what Janelle was talking about – how she’d managed to get on the chair and reach it without falling off in her stupor was a miracle in itself. When Janelle saw her flick her tongue out to catch the drops of luke-warm vodka that were dripping from her nose, she lost it completely.
‘Oh for fucks sake, you’re pathetic. I’m not surprised Dad kicked you out. You disgust me. And you smell like you haven’t seen the tail end of a bar of soap for a month. Have a shower, you dirty bitch.’
Janelle felt her fists clench and knew if she didn’t leave the house she’d smack her mum in the face.
Maybe that’s what she needs though, maybe that’d knock some bloody sense into her.
Struggling to contain herself though, she turned and stormed back up to her room. She shouldn’t have to cope with this shit, it wasn’t enough her stepdad didn’t love her, her mother couldn’t have cared less if she was there or not. Dragging her new phone from her pocket, she plugged in her stepdad’s number for the millionth time since he’d kicked them out, and for the millionth time, he ignored her call.
Throwing herself on the bed, she pushed her face as deep as she could into her pillow, and screamed for as long as she could. What the fuck had she done to deserve this?
2nd October, 0630 hours – Edina’s residence
Hearing the cheerful jingle of her alarm, Ed opened her eyes with a groan. Then it all came flooding back as she saw Kevin’s kind brown eyes staring back at her.
‘I’m still here,’ he said, giving her a brief grin.
She frowned slightly as she caught a flash of an expression – regret maybe? She wasn’t sure as he’d masked it so quickly. Deciding to ignore it, she leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers.
‘Coffee?’ she asked, pulling free of the duvet that had somehow managed to tangle itself around both of them.
‘Sure, you mind if I jump in the shower?’
‘Fill your boots. There’s towels in the unit under the sink. You want toast with your coffee?’
‘Nah, am good ta, just black coffee. Thank you.’
Ed watched him enter the bathroom and stretched as she made her way to the stairs. Her eyes were almost closed, and the first she knew that something wasn’t right was when her foot slipped on something on the hardwood floor of the landing and she tipped forward.
Frantically she tried to grab at the handrail as the stairs bumped into what felt like every joint on her way down the steep stairs. She landed at the bottom with such a bang that it knocked her breath clean out of her. Then the pain came – searing pain that ripped across her lower back.
‘Shit, not again,’ she muttered to herself as her breath began to return.
Going to turn slightly so she could stand, she gasped instead as the small movement put her in so much agony she actually felt sick. Inhaling like she was in a child birthing class, she used the hall table to manoeuver herself onto her knees. By now she was almost crying – the last time she’d felt pain like this she’d been injured at a house fire. The floor had given way beneath her, sending her crashing a full storey down and landing on her oxygen tank. It had taken months of physio to get her to the point where she could move properly again.
Using the table, she dragged herself to her feet and tried to straighten herself.
White hot pain crashed through her again and she leaned against the wall, feeling faint. Leaning heavily against the wall, with her back stooped, she navigated her way towards the kitchen. When it had happened last time, the comfiest position she could find had been leaning over the sink. And that wasn’t until after the several weeks she’d spent in hospital. She couldn’t do that again.
Standing still at the sink allowed the pain to ebb back a little, and she focused on the one item on the surface that was close by – a bottle of olive oil.
As she gained more control and a little colour came back to her cheeks, she suddenly registered that her right foot still had some kind of residue congealing beneath the toes. Staring at the oil, comprehension dawned. How the hell did oil get on my landing?
Moving around 180 degrees, the note on the fridge came into view.
She was metres away but she could read it as though it was right in front of her. It said one word.
SLUT.
Panic threatened to overwhelm, and her flight or fight instinct kicked in. But for once, she couldn’t run. Hearing a loud crash in the hall, she moved as fast as her body would allow and made it into the hall just in time to see Kevin clambering to his feet and rubbing his behind.
‘Ow, what the hell was that?’
‘Oil. We need to go. Now.’
‘What’s up?’ he asked, obviously concerned at the pain on her face. ‘Did you fall too?’
Ed grimaced and nodded, ‘My back’s knackered. Doesn’t matter though. It was him. He’s been in while we were in bed. He left another fucking note. I can’t do this anymore, Kev. I need to get out. I can’t stay here. The bastard could’ve killed us. He wanted to hurt me this time.’
‘Did you touch it? Is it in the kitchen?’
‘I haven’t touched the fucking note, can we please leave. I can’t bear the thought of him being in the house while we were in bed. What if he’d watched us? I don’t even know if we’d shut the bedroom door. What kind of person does this?’
‘A nutcase, that’s who. Come on, love. We’ll get you in the car and then I’ll ring Slater.’
Ed took him up on the offer of his shoulder for support and followed as he led the way outside.
‘I don’t think I can get
in,’ she whispered, her face white again from the exertion. Her face was taut with pain, and she could see Kevin was concerned. ‘I may need to go to hospital,’ she finally acknowledged in defeat.
‘OK, stay here. I’ll pop back in and get a few bits and lock up. You OK here?’
‘Yeah, just don’t be long.’
Nodding, he made his way back inside.
11
Heather had spent the day before clearing out her room. She and her mum had got rid of the razor blades, ditched the pills and generally tidied up before moving all the furniture around. ‘New room, new start,’ her mum had said. Heather had to admit she liked it better.
She’d spent the night watching old movies from her childhood with her mum – it had been special, just like how she wanted her relationship with her mum to be. They’d both crawled up to bed at about 4am When her alarm had sounded at 730am, Heather had wanted to believe it was a joke, that she didn’t really have to get up. When she’d been watching movies, she’d managed to forget, just for a while, but the cold light of day brought all her emotions crashing back to her like waves on the sand.
In a way, she was quite proud of herself though. In the fifteen minutes she’d been up, she’d had a shower and made herself and her mum a cuppa, and she hadn’t cried once. And she’d managed to do it all despite the glaring pink cast that restricted her movement.
Today was Glen’s service.
Heather was trying to ignore the feelings of desolation washing over her – normally she’d do something that hurt to make those feelings go away. But she wouldn’t do that today – no matter how bad it got.
For a minute, she let herself remember the first time she and Glen had had sex. It had been dark and they’d driven out to one of the back roads round Hurworth. The kind of roads no one drove down on a night. They’d talked for hours, the windows soon covered in a thick coat of moisture that obscured the view both in and out. When he’d kissed her, she’d pulled back, not having the confidence in herself to kiss him back, and still believing he couldn’t possibly be interested in her.
Watch You Burn Page 11
