Kat wasn’t even properly listening. She was still in shock. She just nodded where she thought it appropriate and tried to focus on her breathing. Tried to stop her body from shaking.
One problem had been solved – the bullying in work – and another had presented itself. Poor Kiddles. Her faithful little companion taken away. She hoped her poor pet hadn’t suffered.
‘Thanks for phoning me, Mrs Paterson,’ Kat said.
‘I’m sorry. I knew you’d be at work and it’s not ideal telling someone news like this over the phone.’
‘No, no, I’m glad you called.’
Kat had finished the brandy and Mrs Paterson immediately refilled her glass. Kat didn’t refuse.
‘I don’t know what we do now?’ Mrs Paterson said.
Kat had no idea what her elderly neighbour meant but she realised she was expecting a reply. ‘There’s not much we can do. No one’s going to bring him back…’
‘No, I mean with humans, there are certain procedures to go through, autopsy reports and the like, but do we have to contact anyone?’
‘I’m not too sure. I don’t think so. It’s a lot to take in just now.’ Kat could feel another headache coming on. Her head was pulsing.
‘It must be a terrible shock. You take some more brandy – that’ll help you calm down. Will you stay for your tea?’ Mrs Paterson asked.
‘No, no, I’d better be getting back,’ Kat said. ‘Thanks for all your help.’
‘If you need anything – anything at all, Kat – just give me a chap. You know you’re always welcome here, even if you only need a chat or a wee shoulder to cry on.’
‘Thanks… but I’ll be fine,’ Kat said, not believing it.
16
Kat’s first day back at work had gone by in a complete blur. She had been in the office in body only. Her mind was most definitely elsewhere.
She had taken two days off after the unexpected and untimely death of her cat. Two days where she had thought about nothing apart from Kiddles. How had he died? Why had he died? Had he suffered? Two days, where instead of feeling happy about Paul and Charlotte’s fantastic news as she should, she had moped around the house drinking far too much wine and feeling sorry for herself. She still had come up with no answers as to what had happened or what had caused Kiddles’ death. All she knew was that she missed her little companion deeply. The house was far too quiet without him, and the loneliness Kat felt was unreal.
Tony had been surprisingly sympathetic again when she called in to let him know she wouldn’t be fit for work. He’d told her to take a few days off and said he would even put it through as compassionate leave. The last thing she should be worrying about was work, he’d said.
The two days leave hadn’t helped at all. She was still distraught and still had no clue as to what had actually happened to her beloved pet. Everyone had been great – Paul had been down to visit twice and Mrs Paterson was never away from the door, but Kat hadn’t been great company.
They had left her alone at work again today. Rachel had stayed true to her word and Kirsty hadn’t come near. At least that was something. If the bullying had resumed, that might have tipped Kat into the abyss.
Kat was glad the day was at an end. Although, the thought that she would now be completely alone when she got home was depressing. That was the reason she had decided to stay on for an hour to make up some of the flexi time she had used to take her car into the garage, though she hadn’t managed to catch up on any work. If anything, she was further behind. Kat was at a loss: she didn’t want to be in work, but she couldn’t face going home.
As she exited the lift and walked through the car park, Kat felt that horrible, uneasy feeling wash over her again. She really had to have a think about parking her car somewhere other than the underground car park. It was no good for her anxiety.
Someone was there. It was no fox this time – she was sure of that.
Kat heard hurried footsteps approaching behind her.
‘Kat, how are you?’ It was Rachel. She was walking briskly behind her.
‘Rachel, you gave me a fright there,’ Kat said. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I was so sorry to hear about your poor cat.’
‘Thanks, it was a terrible shock.’
‘I’ll bet it was… maybe it was allergic to the little treat I gave it when I came to your flat,’ Rachel said, smiling.
It all slowly fell into place. Kat couldn’t believe it – Rachel had wormed her way into her home… and poisoned her poor little cat. She had killed Kiddles.
Why? Surely no one could hate her so much as to do such a disgusting, horrible, cowardly thing like that? The girl was a psychopath.
‘Why would… How could?’ Kat couldn’t get her words out. She could feel the colour rushing to her cheeks. How could she have been so stupid as to let her into her home? She had even forgiven her for everything.
‘Spit it out, Fat Kat. You think I was actually sorry when I came to your shitty wee flat? I can’t believe you let me in! How gullible are you?’ Rachel said, as if seeing what Kat was thinking.
‘How could you do such a thing?’ Kat spluttered. ‘My poor cat.’
Rachel stood laughing. Laughing!
She moved closer to Kat.
She had killed Kiddles and now she was actually laughing about it.
‘The poor cat didn’t have to die…’ Rachel said, moving ever closer.
‘Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you?’ Kat said. She stepped back. There was nowhere for her to go; she was backed right up against her car now.
‘It should have been you! Fat Kat and not your little cat. Every time I see you I just want to smash that ugly fat face in,’ Rachel said, closer still. They were almost touching now.
‘Leave me alone!’ Kat shouted, hoping that someone might hear and come to the rescue. Rachel may be a slight little thing but she was threatening her, and the last thing Kat needed right now was a punch in the face.
Unfortunately, the car park remained deserted.
Nobody came.
Rachel moved forward and grabbed Kat by the hair. Kat tried as best she could to shake her off, but Rachel’s hand was clamped tight to her head. The two of them struggled back and forth.
‘The cat’s better off dead! Next time it might be Paul!’ Rachel said. She was punching Kat in the stomach with her free hand. She was completely out of control. How did she even know who Paul was?
‘Get off me!’ Kat shouted. She was boiling with rage now. This evil little girl had killed her cat and now she was threatening her son. Kat swung her hand with all her might and caught Rachel on the side of the head with her fist. She swung again, this time with her other arm. Rachel still wouldn’t budge. A third swing and finally her grip loosened. Rachel fell backwards and then—
Silence.
Kat was breathing hard. She put her hand to her head, which was stinging. By sheer luck there was no blood, and her scalp and hair still seemed to be intact. Thankfully, the little witch had avoided ripping the stitches out of Kat’s head.
Her attention turned to Rachel. She was lying on the ground, completely still.
Kat leaned in for a closer look. She was cautious though – this could be a trick.
Kat watched Rachel closely.
Oh my God! She wasn’t breathing. There was blood trickling from behind her ear!
Kat had done a first-aid course a few years ago; she knew this didn’t look good at all. She moved Rachel into the recovery position and checked for a pulse, though she knew it was futile.
Rachel was dead.
17
Kat knew she should have called an ambulance. She could have bundled Rachel into the car and driven her to hospital herself. It was an accident, after all. What if there was still a chance she could be saved?
Kat did neither of these things.
She sat in her car. She could barely move. She tried to get her breathing under control. Tried to make sense of things. She cou
ldn’t think straight. Adrenaline was flowing through her body and she felt frozen in the driver’s seat. What the hell had just happened? She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. Tried to get on an even keel. Rachel had killed Kiddles. She had threatened Paul. And now she was dead.
After a minute or two Kat opened the driver’s door and stepped out. Rachel was still lying lifeless on the ground, blood pooling at her head. It wasn’t as if she was going to miraculously jump up and run off, forget any of this had ever happened now, was it?
Kat looked around but still no one had appeared in the dimly lit car park. Why the hell had she chosen to stay on for an extra hour? If someone had appeared in the car park then the decision would have been taken out of her hands. She would have to confess and explain what had happened.
She knew she should be alerting someone.
Anyone.
She should be screaming at the top of her lungs until someone came running to help. The security guard would be positioned at the exit; he would surely hear if she screamed loud enough.
Her mind was racing. The little witch had bullied her mercilessly for months. Every single day she had taunted her and made her a laughing stock. She’d smashed up her car. She had talked her way into her flat and killed her beloved cat. She had just threatened her son. She had just attacked her for no reason. However, Kat never intended to kill her. Kat hadn’t hurt anyone her entire life. It was an accident. Self-defence. How unlucky could you be? Killing someone with one punch. It wasn’t even a punch. More of a swing of the arm – well, three swings of the arm. What if people thought it wasn’t an accident?
How could this be happening?
Decision time.
Kat opened the back door of the Mini. She stood for a moment transfixed by Rachel’s lifeless body lying on the ground.
Kat looked left. Looked right. And then bundled Rachel into the back seat of the car.
She used the blanket that had lain in the back for years to hide Rachel’s small, limp body and then jumped back out of the car, her breathing laboured.
What on earth was she doing? This was beyond insane.
Kat stood outside the car, steadied by her arm resting on the door. She needed time to think. She needed to breathe. Then she spotted Rachel’s bag lying on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in the back as well.
A line had well and truly been crossed.
There was no going back now.
18
Kat closed the Mini’s door and stared at the ground adjacent to it. A sizeable bloodstain remained on the concrete. If someone spotted that they would know something untoward had happened and would investigate. The game would be up. There was nothing to clean it up with though, and the longer Kat lingered here, the more chance there was of someone stumbling across this whole sorry mess. There would be no explanation that would make things right.
Kat was panicking again. She tried to slow her breathing. She needed to think rationally. There was a dead girl lying in the back of her car. What she was doing was madness. How could she get rid of the bloodstain? There was a cupboard outside the office which was used by the cleaners. There was bound to be something useful in there. If only she could get to it without anyone seeing her.
Kat lifted her handbrake and moved the car over a touch so it was covering the unforgiving red stain. Then she got out and headed back for the lift.
Kat was sweating. What the hell was she playing at? What if someone saw her going into the cleaning cupboard? What if she came back down and someone had discovered Rachel lying under the cover in her back seat? This was a living nightmare. She needed to have a rethink – it wasn’t too late. Go down, take Rachel out of the car and shout for help. Scream to high heaven until someone came. Tell the truth. It was still a viable option. It was the sensible option.
The lift pinged and dragged Kat from her thoughts, opening excruciatingly slowly as usual. If the damn thing broke down now then she was well and truly screwed.
The lift made its agonisingly slow ascent and finally reached the third floor. Kat got out and made her way to the cupboard. She could see that the light was still on in the office, but thankfully no one came out.
She crept forward and opened the cupboard door, scanned the contents of the cupboard and quickly grabbed a bottle of bleach and a scrubbing brush. She hastily closed the door and then set off back towards the lift. She might just get away with this.
‘Alright, Kat?’ It was Tony, her inept manager. ‘I thought you were away home already?’ Kat quickly hid the bottle and brush behind her back.
‘Forgot my keys. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.’ She laughed. Kat hoped she wasn’t as red in the face as she felt. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that she was completely drenched in sweat.
‘Ah… Alright then, I’ll see you in the morning,’ Tony said, dismissing Kat and turning to go back into the office. Tony seemed more nervous than Kat was. He was very jumpy and looked a bit dishevelled. His hair was everywhere.
Kat walked briskly to the lift and pressed the button on the wall. She was shaking now; her nerves were shot.
‘Come on, come on,’ she urged.
The lift must only have taken a matter of seconds to arrive but it felt a lot longer to Kat. She hurriedly got in and hammered the button for the ground floor. She really should have used the stairs so the possibility of the lift breaking down wasn’t a factor.
The lift arrived at the ground floor and opened without any complications. Kat stepped out and looked around. Her luck was holding – there still wasn’t a soul in the car park. If she had left at her usual finishing time then the place would have been crawling with staff trying to beat each other to the exit.
If she had just finished at her normal time then none of this would ever have happened. It could all have been avoided.
As quickly as she could, Kat made her way to the Mini. She took the handbrake off and pushed the car forward a little to access the bloodstain. Then she poured liberal amounts of bleach on it. It wasn’t making much of an impact – if anything, the stain looked bigger.
She grabbed the brush and started scrubbing furiously at the blood and bleach. It had worked a little. The stain could be mistaken for something else now. You didn’t immediately think it was blood in any case.
She poured the remaining bleach onto the pinkish stain then got back into the car, making sure to bring the bottle and brush with her. She threw them in the back.
Kat gathered herself together and took a quick peek over her shoulder into the back seat, where the blanket covered Rachel. What the hell had she done?
Kat put the car into gear and drove past the small security booth and out of the car park.
Her life had just changed forever.
19
Kat’s mind was spinning as she drove home. What in God’s name was she doing? This was crazy.
She could picture everything clearly in her head.
The police slapping handcuffs on her.
The jail cell.
The court case.
The long sentence in a women’s prison.
Kat would never survive. Then she thought about the papers – she’d be all over them, front page. She’d be on the news. Paul would be humiliated; he would never speak to her again, never mind see her. Even worse, Kat wouldn’t be around for the birth of her first grandchild. She would never get to see her first grandchild. Kat was crying uncontrollably now. Big teardrops spilled from her eyes.
All of this because of a horrible, spiteful, vile little girl. A girl who had caused Kat nothing but pain and misery for no reason whatsoever. A girl who had killed her loving cat—
The blare of a horn jolted Kat back to the present. She had nearly crashed the car. She was halfway home and hadn’t remembered one part of the journey. She had nearly veered into oncoming traffic. That would be the end of it all if she had crashed – there was no way she could explain away a dead body lying in the back.
‘Honestl
y, Officer, I thought she was sleeping’ wouldn’t exactly cut it.
As the evening traffic slowed to a crawl, Kat sneaked a look in her mirror into the back seat. The blanket covered her multitude of sins for now, but she knew she was going to have to deal with this and it had to be sooner rather than later. She had no plan; she was just heading home as she normally did. What the hell was she going to do with the young girl’s body lying in the back seat?
Kat wondered if Rachel had any loved ones. Of course she would. Surely she must have a mother and father still alive – she was only late teens or early twenties, after all. She was pretty sure Rachel had a fiancé as well. She vaguely remembered overhearing conversations about him and how great their life together was going to be. How he was going to get her everything she ever wanted. All of this meant one thing: she would be missed. People would be looking for her. She was popular. Her disappearance would most definitely be noticed. Of course it would be. Someone might even phone the police and report her as a missing person. There was no time to waste – Kat had to act fast.
There was no going back now; it had gone way too far. Kat needed to get her act together. She needed to think. To focus. She needed to be smart. She thought of Paul, of the happy news he had brought her; she thought about the joy a grandchild would bring.
Kat had decided. Her mind was made up.
She needed to get away with murder.
20
Kat had two more problems to contend with before she even began to deal with the lifeless girl in the back seat of her car.
The Mercedes had parked in her space yet again, which meant Kat would have to leave her car further down the street. This was far from ideal as she couldn’t see the Mini from her window. If something happened to it in the few hours before nightfall then she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. There was no alternative though, so Kat parked the car and tried to avoid her next problem: Mrs Paterson. The wee woman saw everything. She was top of the class when it came to snooping – a veteran curtain twitcher. She was even worse at the moment if that was possible. She had gone into overdrive since she had discovered poor Kiddles and was paying extra attention to Kat. It wasn’t as if Kat could just throw Rachel over her shoulder and walk casually into the flat. She was going to have to take her elsewhere. Dispose of her elsewhere, Kat thought with a slight shudder. But for now, Rachel would have to remain covered under the blanket in the back seat. It was risky but then again, what wasn’t risky about this whole messed-up situation?
Don't Push Me Page 4
