by Gemma Rogers
‘What about his coat and boots?’
‘Pass me the boots,’ she said, stuffing them in a carrier bag. ‘When you get out of the car, quickly slip out of the coat and stuff it in here. We’ll take them home with us.’
I nodded, my heart racing every time a car went down the main road behind us. I imagined blue flashing lights were only minutes away.
Once we’d given the car a quick wipe-down, in an attempt to remove any DNA we might have left, we waited for a break in the traffic and jumped out, hurrying away. As I removed Terry’s coat and hat, I dropped the keys down a drain, pausing to hear the plop of the water. Karla took the opportunity to get rid of Terry’s phone in there too.
We kept our heads lowered, peeling off our latex gloves as we walked. I followed Karla, who led us down one side street, then another, seeming to know her way around with ease.
‘Are there any cameras in the road where we left the car?’
‘No, I don’t think so, I’m pretty sure anyway. There’s loads in the town centre, they’ll pick up the car on the route we’ve taken, but that doesn’t matter. We want them to think Terry’s driving,’ Karla said, her voice muffled from the wind.
A stitch formed in my side as we were walking so fast. I was carrying my backpack and the bag with Terry’s coat and heavy boots. Despite the chill, my skin was damp.
‘Can you slow down? Where are we going?’ I called out.
Karla was ahead of me and stopped abruptly. ‘I’m trying to get us away from the town centre, away from cameras, that’s why we’re sticking to the side streets. In a minute, we’re going to cross a big park and we’ll have a rest.’ Her eyes flashed and I could tell she was getting exasperated with me.
I couldn’t help it, I was jittery, panic mounting at the situation we’d found ourselves in. Karla, although stressed, was still level-headed, just the sort of person you needed in an emergency.
I kept thinking of my phone, switched off in my backpack. How many voicemails would I have from Helen? I’d fucked it all up. Now I’d be going back to prison for murder because that’s what it would look like. I had nothing to prove otherwise. We’d covered up Terry’s death and with that implicated ourselves in a crime that never happened. We’d broken the law and I’d dragged Karla into it. What had I done? There was no time to dwell on the choices I’d made, how I’d got us into this mess, we had to keep going.
The noise from the traffic dulled as we moved further into the park, towards a copse of trees. Karla sat down on one that had been felled at the edge of the clearing and pulled out her cigarettes, offering me one and lighting it. It was so dark, I could barely see her face, only when she sucked on her cigarette and was illuminated for a second.
‘So what happened?’ she asked.
‘When?’
‘With Terry!’ Karla sighed.
‘He wanted…’ I paused, finding it hard to get the words out, ‘…oral sex, and I bit him.’
‘You did what?’ Karla laughed out loud, the outline of her curls bouncing in the dark.
‘I was so fucking angry, I just lost it, but then he grabbed his arm and hit the deck.’
‘He deserved it, fucking scum of the earth. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke,’ Karla sneered.
‘What do you think caused it?’ I asked.
‘Heart attack maybe, or brain aneurism.’
I nodded in agreement, flicking the ash between my feet.
‘I didn’t kill him,’ I said, just to make sure Karla knew, for the record.
‘Of course you didn’t, but your DNA was all over his dick. We did the right thing, with your record and that gash on his head, the police would have arrested you.’
‘And what about now?’ I asked.
‘Well now, he’s on the CCTV leaving the warehouse, his car will be seen on traffic cameras driving to the casino. The car is dumped there, no other prints and we’ve lucked out finding the money.’ Karla patted her bag.
‘Yeah and…’ I faltered.
‘And they’ll assume he’s gone to the casino, played poker, probably got fucked up by someone he owes money to. Plus, there’s no body, so no crime. He’ll be missing.’ Karla had it all tied up.
‘What about Bright’s?’
‘What about it? There’s no evidence of a struggle, he’s been seen leaving after locking up. We just need to dispose of his ashes out of the bloody incinerator on Monday.’ Karla squashed the cigarette into the ground, and I followed suit.
I watched her go through Terry’s wallet, pulling out the cash and pocketing it before looking through the cards. When finished, she began digging in the damp soil with a broken branch at the bottom of the closest tree and buried it along with our latex gloves.
I remained quiet, consumed by my thoughts. Something was bugging me, the incinerator. We’d left it on, burning Terry’s remains. What if it stopped, malfunctioned in some way? Maybe Karla hadn’t set it right? It could cause a fire and burn the place down. We had no idea how it worked. What if on Monday morning, you could see the remnants of a body through the viewing hatch or his wife went in over the weekend to look for him and found his roasted carcass?
14
We stayed on the stumps, resting whilst chain-smoking. Both of our bodies shattered from the exertion of the past couple of hours.
‘I need a drink,’ Karla said.
‘I need a shower,’ I replied, sniffing my T-shirt, which smelt anything but fresh. I wanted to go home, get clean and brush my teeth. Remove every trace of Terry from me.
Karla stood and picked up her bag and, as she did, it dawned on me I didn’t want to be alone tonight. There would be too many monsters waiting in my nightmares.
‘Do you want to crash at mine tonight? I mean, I don’t have a sofa, so we’ll have to share a bed, but you’re welcome. It’s been a bit of a weird situation to say the least.’
Karla grimaced. ‘You can say that again. You got any alcohol at yours?’
‘Vodka?’
‘Sold.’ Karla took off in the direction of the path through the park.
When we reached the other side, we came out on a busy road and it took a while to get my bearings. It looked familiar.
‘Quick, there’s a bus,’ Karla said, running towards the bus stop and leaving me behind. I chased after her as best I could, still lugging the extra bag of coat and boats.
We jumped on as I recognised we were on the main road out of Croydon, the bus would take us straight home. I sank into the spongy seat, muscles relaxing to liquid for the first time in hours. Everything ached. Karla sat across the aisle, staring out of the window and I did the same, watching the headlights stream past. No idea where to start processing the night’s events.
Ten minutes later, I unlocked my door, curious to what Karla would think of the bedsit.
‘It’s tiny,’ I pre-empted, switching on the light and turning to face Karla, who was taking everything in. Just like Helen had, but without the distaste.
‘It’s all right, isn’t it, your own space. What more do you need?’ Karla flopped onto my bed, kicking off her trainers and rolling onto her back. ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m shagged!’
I laughed at her way with words. ‘Me too.’
I got two mugs out of the cupboard and poured a large shot of vodka in each, handing one to Karla.
‘I can’t believe it.’ I sank down onto the bed, nursing my mug.
‘It’ll be okay,’ Karla said softly.
‘He’s dead and we burned him. How is it ever going to be okay?’
‘He was a lecherous prick, Jess. We did the world a favour. We did everyone at Bright’s a favour. Don’t forget that.’
I sighed, lowering my head to rub the back of my neck. ‘What are we going to do with those?’ I gestured towards Terry’s coat and boots.
‘Burn or bury them, I guess. We’ll need to do the same with our clothes too.’ Karla knocked back her drink and handed me her mug, wincing.
I swallowed my o
wn, anticipating the scorch of the liquid as it went down, and refilled our mugs again. I opened the front door to let some fresh air in as we smoked, unable to believe it was almost nine. The last few hours had sped by.
‘I need a shower,’ I announced once we’d finished and I’d locked up.
I showered at breakneck speed, aware a stranger was in my home, and although I had nothing worth stealing, it was unnerving. Karla was the closest thing I had to a friend, but we knew nothing about each other really.
It felt so good to let the hot water wash away the sweat, grime and dust stuck to my skin. The memory of Terry erased in part as I gargled water, launching it into the air. I washed my hair and when I returned, wrapped in a towel, Karla was where I’d left her. Laying on the bed, scrolling through her phone. Mine still hadn’t been switched on. I was putting it off, knowing an influx of angry messages were waiting for me.
‘Here you go,’ I said, passing her a clean towel.
‘Cheers,’ she replied and stepped past me into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
I got dressed in jogging bottoms and a T-shirt before towel-drying and plaiting my hair. I found spare clothes for Karla too – we were about the same size and she’d need something comfortable to sleep in.
She took ages in the bathroom, so I made up two sachets of pasta in sauce using the microwave, while my stomach cramped from lack of food. Especially now the alcohol had hit my bloodstream.
Karla emerged practically dry and I gave her the clothes to put on. She dropped her towel without hesitation, and I turned away, my cheeks blazing. Karla was so different, unfazed by anything. It frightened me almost as much as I admired it.
‘Wicked, thanks. I’m starving,’ she said when I handed her the bowl of pasta.
We sat down on the bed to eat. Both of us shovelling spoonfuls in. It was a habit from being inside, fearful it was going to be taken away at any second.
‘Why were you sent down?’ Karla asked out of the blue.
‘I killed someone. Death by dangerous driving,’ I said quietly, the words sticking in my throat. It never got any easier to say.
‘What happened?’ Karla’s eyes narrowed, her forehead creasing in waves.
‘I got… distracted,’ I admitted, not wanted to delve deeper into the memory I kept locked away. I didn’t want to go back to that night, replay what happened and what I could have done differently.
Karla gave a solitary nod, as though she understood.
‘You?’
‘Possession, with intent to supply. Got three years.’
‘Were you using?’
‘Occasionally. Don’t touch it now though. Trying to keep my nose clean, until tonight it seems.’ She rolled her eyes.
How did Karla get mixed up in selling drugs? Who had led her down that path? I didn’t want to pry. She’d tell me more when she felt comfortable.
We finished our pasta, had one more cigarette and a last shot of vodka before getting into bed. Laying side by side, our elbows touching, we stared up at the ceiling. It felt awkward being so close, sharing the duvet, but it wasn’t long before Karla drifted off. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but my thoughts were consumed by images of Terry staggering towards me, his arm outstretched.
I woke early, before seven, to the sounds of pigeons scuttering on the felt roof. Sleep had been hard to come by. I’d tossed and turned all night, worrying about the incinerator and all the things that could expose us. Fearing a knock on the door any second, as though the police would know exactly what had happened to Terry and turn up here.
Karla was stirring, and I switched on my mobile for the first time since yesterday morning, turning it quickly to silent before the tirade of messages came through.
Where are you?
* * *
We’re waiting to eat?
* * *
Really? You’re just not going to show up?
* * *
Fuck you Jess
There were two voicemails, but I deleted them, I knew it would just be more of Helen ranting. I sent a text.
I’m sorry Helen, I got stuck at work. We’re not allowed phones and a big order came in late and we had to stay behind. I’ll be over today.
‘Fucking hell, who’s up there, Michael Flatley?’ Karla groaned, rolling onto her back.
I sniggered. I had no idea who Michael Flatley was.
‘Pigeons. Want a tea?’
Karla mumbled in agreement and I got up and stuck the kettle on.
‘It’s freezing in here,’ she said, pulling the duvet up to her chin. I’d got used to the cold, but I switched the oil-filled radiator on anyway.
I offered breakfast, but, like me, Karla didn’t have much of an appetite first thing in the morning; my stomach was still bloated from last night’s pasta.
‘What you are doing today?’ Karla asked, sitting up as I handed her a cup of tea.
‘Visiting my mum. I’ve also got to go to the launderette and get some shopping. You?’
‘A few errands.’ Karla was always so vague, she never seemed to give anything away. I still knew nothing about her family, where she grew up, friends, even where she was living. ‘Want me to take that?’ She gestured to the untouched bag of Terry’s coat, hat and boots.
‘No, it’s fine, I’ll sort it,’ I replied, although I had no idea how, but Karla had done more than enough to dig me out of the hole I’d landed in.
‘Don’t forget your clothes from last night too. Also, we need to be each other’s alibi.’
‘Alibi?’
‘Yes. After work last night. You had a quick chat with Terry – make up a reason why – I waited for you outside, then we walked back here. Don’t say we got a bus, there’s cameras on most of them. We just have to hope they don’t check.’ I felt the blood drain from my face. It was all too real. If caught, we were going back to prison without a doubt.
‘Are you sure there’s no cameras at the front of Bright’s?’ I asked.
‘Positive. He only has one covering the yard.’
‘Okay. Do you think we should go back? Check the incinerator?’
‘No, we have to stay away until Monday, we’ve got to stick to our usual routine. If we went to work at the weekend and were seen, it would be suspicious. All you’ve got to do is hold your nerve, Jess.’
My eyes prickled with the onset of tears. ‘I just… I can’t go back to prison.’
15
Karla was gone before eight, counting me out half of the money before she left. There was a total of five grand in the jiffy bag – it was more money than I’d ever seen before. The only rule was no big purchases. Giddy with all the things I could get for the bedsit and new clothes instead of second-hand ones, I momentarily forgot the money was stolen. It was blood money and I’d never stolen as much as a chocolate bar before, but it was of no use to Terry now.
We’d arranged to meet outside work half an hour early on Monday, and if we were the only ones in, we’d empty the ash from the incinerator and bag it up. Karla didn’t offer to get together over the weekend, and I didn’t ask. We weren’t there yet. Making friends with Karla was slow progress and I could tell she didn’t let people in easily. Her brusque manner would likely put most off, but I didn’t have an abundance of options for social interaction.
I got to Mum’s at ten, holding a bag of washing for the launderette in one hand and a bunch of flowers from the petrol station in another. I stopped as I got to the gate, my mouth hanging open. The word bitch had been spray painted across Mum’s front door.
‘Finally decided to show up then?’ Helen said as she pulled open the door to see me standing at the gate.
‘What happened to the door?’
‘You’re what happened to the door!’ Helen snapped.
I cringed. Was Mum victimised like this when I went away? Had I brought it all back upon them now I was out? ‘I’m sorry, Helen, I’ll paint it today.’
She shrugged. ‘And what happened yesterday?’
‘Yeah I’m sure. You’ve always been such a fucking let-down,’ she taunted.
‘Do we have to? I really can’t be arsed.’ I sighed, pushing past her into the house and calling Mum’s name.
Her small voice came from the sitting room.
‘She doesn’t know about the door yet, think it happened last night. Get it sorted before you go home,’ Helen whispered.
I hadn’t been in the sitting room for years, but nothing had changed except for the addition of a high-backed green armchair Mum was tucked into. The striped pink and green wallpaper remained, as well as the ancient gas fire with stone surround.
‘Hello, love, how are you doing?’
I leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She looked good, not so pale. This time she was dressed with her hair pinned up and a bit of make-up on.
‘I’m good thanks. Sorry about yesterday, Mum, I got stuck at work.’
I heard Helen tut from the kitchen before the kettle began to boil.
‘I bought you these, I’ll put them in a vase,’ I said, lowering the bunch so Mum could look at them.
‘Ah they’re lovely, thank you.’ She reached out and stroked the petal of a yellow rose.
‘Your favourites.’
A clatter came from the kitchen.
‘You didn’t get in trouble, did you?’ Mum said, and the colour drained from my face as she stared at me.
‘Trouble?’
‘At work,’ she clarified.
‘No, Mum.’ My hands trembled and my eye began to twitch. I used the excuse of the flowers to leave the room and get myself together, heading into the kitchen to find a vase.
Helen brought in tea on a tray and a slice of Battenberg, which I wolfed down as she rolled her eyes at me. We made polite conversation, some of it strained in Helen’s company. She felt the need to swipe at me whenever the opportunity arose. I tried to ignore it, thanking her for the bag of bits she’d brought round.
