A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

by Rosalind Stopps

  Daphne and I nodded. I wanted to know, of course I did, I wanted to know what I’d got myself into, but I could see that Nina had almost had enough.

  ‘Would you like a rest?’ I asked.

  Nina looked scared, as if I’d said something menacing.

  ‘Hey,’ Daphne said, ‘I think we’ve got a few ground rules to sort out first. Number one, you’re safe with us. We will make sure of that. Number two, no one is going to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. Any ideas for number three?’

  I’m not usually good at coming up with ideas but something popped into my head. I think it might have been from a film I saw.

  ‘What happens between us stays between us,’ I said.

  I could see that all three of them were surprised that I had come up with that.

  ‘That’s a good rule,’ Grace said. ‘I think we’re going to be glad that we said that. What happens in Meg’s kitchen stays in Meg’s kitchen. Or wherever we might be.’

  ‘OK, it’s about money,’ Nina said. ‘I mean, there’s money in the mix. He says I owe him money, but it’s more than that. He thinks he’s all I’ve got, and he is, I mean he’s not wrong on that one, but it’s all messed up.’

  I could see that she was going to cry in a minute so I looked at the other two to see what they thought we should do. I had the most overwhelming urge to put Nina to bed, make hot chocolate for her and tell her a bedtime story with nothing scary in it.

  I’ve learnt not to act on my impulses over the years. Meg, Henry would say, Meg, if we all acted on the first thought that came into our heads, the world would be in utter chaos. He used to tap the side of his head. Use this, that’s what we have to do, Meg, use the old noggin. I didn’t say anything when he said stuff like that. Henry wasn’t the kind of man who welcomed a discussion about things.

  ‘Would anyone like some tea?’ I said.

  I hoped that I had enough tea bags.

  ‘Thanks, Meg,’ said Nina.

  I looked at the others. I think we all realised that it would be better not to push Nina any more. She’d had enough for one day. I was worried though. It was getting dark, and there was a man around who was bad, if not more than bad, and we had to decide what we were going to do about Nina. It was almost more than I could cope with.

  ‘So I’m going to go out,’ Grace said, ‘and get some good old junk food for us. Fish and chips, I’m thinking, halloumi burgers for the non fish. OK?’

  Nina didn’t look thrilled. Of course, I thought, young people don’t necessarily feel excited by food in the same way that us old ones do.

  When Henry and I were first married, he’d drawn up a nutrition chart for both of us. How many calories we were allowed to have, what food groups they should come from, that kind of thing. I remember the milk – it was in the days before skimmed milk was widely available and so we used powdered for me, half a pint made up every day. I hated that milk. I used to pinch a bit from Henry’s allowance for my cup of tea whenever he wasn’t looking, because he had the regular milk. Perhaps someone has drawn up a nutrition chart or something like that for Nina, I thought, maybe that’s why she’s worried about eating.

  ‘If you’re not hungry, that’s fine,’ I said.

  Daphne and Grace sent me questioning looks. I knew they wanted to feed her, give her some strength, but you have to make a choice sometimes, I thought. Mental health or physical, they’re both tied in to each other.

  ‘Maybe just some chocolate,’ I said.

  Nina laughed, and the tension that had been building up seemed to drain away.

  ‘Meg,’ she said, ‘you’re so bad, that is such bad advice. But thank you, thank you all of you. I know you didn’t plan for me, and I can’t tell you how lucky I feel that you’ve all been so lovely. Of course I’ll eat your fish and chips, Grace, only just the chips if that’s OK.’

  We talked about all sorts of things that evening. TV programmes, films, books, mostly just the three of us old codgers chatting, and Nina listening sometimes and falling asleep sometimes. It was cosy in parts, comfortable. We were kind to each other. I kept stretching out my legs and wiggling my toes, that’s how relaxed I felt.

  Finally, when it was clear that Nina was properly asleep, Grace said, ‘We have got ourselves a situation here, my friends.’

  I loved the way she talked. I loved it that she said ‘my friends’. I wished I had made friends earlier in my life.

  ‘I know,’ Daphne said. ‘I’ve got so many questions that my head is bursting.’

  ‘Oh, me too,’ I said, although it absolutely wasn’t true. I’d been so busy enjoying the company, and watching Nina uncoil herself like a snake in the sun, that I’d kind of lost sight of the bigger picture, although I didn’t want them to know that. I felt embarrassed that I had been so easily distracted.

  ‘I’ve got two spare bedrooms,’ I said. ‘You can all stay if you like. There’s two beds in one of the rooms, and there’s the sofa in here as well.’

  I had had no idea that I was going to say that until I heard myself speak the words. I felt anxious. Of course they wouldn’t want to stay in my house. It wasn’t very welcoming. No pictures on the walls, everything painted grey, or other colours that had been there for so long they looked like grey anyway.

  ‘I’m only round the corner,’ Daphne said, ‘but I’ll definitely stay if you want me to. I’m not sure – what do you think, Grace?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Grace. ‘Meg, what do you think? Would you like one or both of us to stay? Would you feel safer?’

  I don’t know, I thought. Or rather, I did know, and I did wish that one of them would stay, but there were a couple of problems. One, I wasn’t sure whether they meant it, whether they really wanted to stay, or whether they were just saying it because they thought I was so hopeless that I couldn’t manage. And two, if they did mean it, was that because they thought I was so hopeless? And, on top of both of those, were my spare bedrooms clean enough? Would they be disgusted by the state of them? Or would they feel sorry for me for having such a dingy house?

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘I’m fine.’

  Pull yourself together, I thought. At least I’d get some more time alone with that dear girl, even if it was only when she was sleeping. I’d be in charge for once.

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Grace said, ‘and don’t forget, you can always call us back. I’m thinking we should just check that all the doors and windows are locked, you know, while we’re still here. I’m probably being stupid but it’s good to be sure when you’re messing with people like that.’

  People like what? I thought. We don’t even know anything about him yet. Except I did know. I did know something – I knew that he was out of tune, out of step. I knew that he was the one to watch out for. I’d heard the violin screeching behind him.

  ‘It’s all locked,’ I said. ‘I live on my own so that’s one thing I’m very sure of. My late husband talked a lot about security, you don’t need to worry at all.’

  He did, I thought, but he didn’t always act on things he thought. He was really rather trusting.

  They fiddled with their bags, the two of them, getting ready to go and putting on coats and all done with such quiet intent, looking at the sleeping Nina as if she was a precious baby that we had all given birth to together. That’s what I thought, anyway. They may have thought something else entirely. They were nearly ready when Nina started crying. It was weird, she was crying in her sleep and pushing at something only she could see.

  ‘Get off,’ she said, ‘get off, no,’ and she pulled her knees up towards her chest as if she was trying to get into a foetal position.

  I went to her straight away, and smoothed the hair back from her head.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said in the kind of voice I might have used to a baby, ‘it’s OK.’

  She sat up, bolt upright but still asleep, I think, and she gave me a push that knocked me into the other two and somehow we all half fell backwards and Grace lost her foo
ting altogether and sat down hard in the chair she had recently vacated and we were all huffing and puffing and trying to do everything quietly in case Nina hadn’t woken. She had. She rubbed her eyes like a child in a cartoon.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Did I? Was I? Are you OK?’

  ‘What were you dreaming?’ Grace said. ‘Is there more you can tell us now, so that we can help you?’

  I suddenly remembered a dream I had had when I was first married. I don’t dream often, so I remember the ones I have. And this one was a corker, a real X-certificate movie of a dream complete with howling monsters and tasks that were impossible to complete. Couldn’t bring all of it to mind and I didn’t want to, but I remembered this – Henry asking me if I was OK and telling me I was safe there with him and all that stuff, the same kind of things that we were saying to Nina now. I had pushed him away, still in the grip of my dream reality. Pushed him away and shouted, ‘It’s you, it’s you, you’re the monster,’ or something like that. I could hear the out-of-tune violin then and I heard it when Nina was dreaming too. I heard it even through all the fussing and apologising and brushing down of coats and checking of pockets. All the things that people do when they’re not sure what to do.

  ‘Are you staying with me?’ Nina said to me.

  She was looking straight at me as if it was the most important thing in the world. I didn’t think anyone had ever looked at me like that. I nodded.

  ‘We can stay too if that would make either of you feel better,’ Grace said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Daphne said, ‘it’s no trouble.’

  Nina gave me a little smile, as if we were co-conspirators in a plot of some kind.

  ‘No it’s OK, you can get off home,’ I said.

  I couldn’t have been more proud, even though two minutes before I had been unsure, even though I could hear that damned violin. One long, drawn-out note after another, getting higher until they swept down again in a trill like a bird. An out-of-tune bird, a bird who was maybe dying or at least planning to kill another bird. I ignored it.

  ‘We’ll be OK, me and Nina. I think she needs to go up to bed, get a good night’s sleep. It’ll all be easier in the morning.’

  It wouldn’t, I was pretty sure of that, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. She was much too young to be that tired. That kind of tired was for old women like us, or people with diseases they’re fighting all the time. That’s the kind of tired she was. I could see that the others found it difficult to leave, but I was sure by then that I was doing the right thing so I resisted the urge to ask them to stay.

  I held her arm to steady her as we went up the stairs after the others had gone. I’d exchanged numbers with the other two and promised to check in if I needed them. I made some green tea for Nina and sat on the edge of her bed as she drank it.

  ‘I don’t know why you and your friends have been so nice,’ she said. ‘I’m really grateful. You don’t have to help, you know, I’d be fine without you.’

  ‘There’s a bit of trouble in every life,’ I said, ‘and when you get older you can see that, and see the trouble that other people are having, and it makes you want to help. I think that’s it.’

  She looked disbelieving.

  ‘Whatever,’ she said.

  I’m sure she thought that old people must have somehow always been old, it’s a thing most young people think. We won’t be like that, they think, we’ll be different, we’ll stay slim and healthy and we’ll still be interested in the same things. No you won’t, us old people could say; no you won’t, everything will change. What would be the point in that? They never believe us. It’s like keeping the faith about Father Christmas, we let them think they’re different because it reminds us of when we thought we were different.

  ‘Go to sleep,’ I said, ‘we can talk more in the morning. You’re welcome here.’

  Chapter Seven

  Nina

  March – eleven months earlier

  Nina had seen Shaz a couple of times since her birthday. She still had niggling doubts, still wondered why Shaz would want to hang out with her, why someone like Shaz would choose a girl from a children’s home who liked going to the library as a friend. Nina was flattered, though, and that was a feeling she wasn’t used to. She was pleased, in a way, to have been chosen. Nina knew that it might not last but it made everything better to know that someone thought she was worth something.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re so jolly,’ Sue said. ‘You’re like a different Nina these days.’

  ‘Not different,’ Bilbo said, immediately anxious. ‘Not different, no something different. Nina is, Nina is what? What is Nina?’

  ‘I’m the same, Bilbo, I’m still me, don’t worry.’

  ‘Yes, Nina, same Nina, Nina is, Nina is what?’

  Bilbo patted Nina’s head to reassure himself, muttering, ‘Same, same, same,’ with every pat.

  ‘Nina is the same,’ said Sue. ‘That’s taught me a lesson, Nina, don’t worry, I’ll never say you’re different again in front of this young man.’

  Nina and Sue laughed together and Nina thought that the home wasn’t so bad after all. It was so much better when there was other stuff to look forward to. Friends to meet, places to go to. She might even be able to persuade Shaz to go on the protest march against the immigration laws, she thought. It would be good to go with someone else.

  She met Shaz in front of the library after dinner.

  ‘Here,’ Shaz said, ‘I’ve got some clothes for you.’

  She held out a carrier bag and Nina took it and looked inside.

  ‘What the actual fuck?’ she said. ‘I mean, there’s some really good stuff in here and,’ she pulled out a sparkly top, ‘some of them still have the price tags, they’re new.’

  Shaz shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘It’s just stuff,’ she said. ‘Thought you might like it. We can’t keep going out with you dressed like a nerd, it’s going to ruin my street cred.’

  Nina laughed.

  ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she said, ‘it’s all lovely, but I’ve got to say, I don’t look too bad, do I? I mean, jeans and a jumper with an XR patch, what’s not to like?’

  Nina paraded up and down the street briefly, like a catwalk model. Shaz didn’t smile.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Nina said. ‘You look as miserable as hell. I was just messing around. Here, you keep it. But thanks, it was a really lovely thought.’

  She held out the carrier bag.

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ Shaz said, ‘stop going on about it. It’s just stuff, that’s all. I nicked it if you must know, no skin off my nose or anywhere else. It’s just like, do you have to be so pleased?’

  Nina was stung. She felt really stupid. Typical kids’ home kid, she thought, going overboard about a bag of cheap clothes.

  ‘OK, OK,’ she said, trying to use the same sort of nonchalant tone as Shaz. ‘I was just saying, that’s all.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Shaz, ‘let’s get you dressed up.’

  She sounded enthusiastic again, excited even. Nina wondered how on earth she was supposed to know the right tone to use. One minute Shaz was up, dancing around and full of excitement, and the next she carried Nina along on a wave of misery. It was hard to follow.

  ‘In here,’ Shaz said, pointing to the McDonald’s they were passing. ‘Go on, you go in the toilets and get changed, and then I can take a picture of you.’

  Nina McDonald had never managed to tell Shaz how miserable McDonald’s made her feel.

  ‘A picture?’ Nina said. ‘Shaz, why would you want a picture of me?’

  Nina wished that she knew what normal friendship behaviour was. Perhaps this was the kind of thing people did all the time, give each other bags of clothes and then take pictures. It was probably just her, the odd one out again, the one who didn’t know how to behave. She locked the door of the tiny, smelly toilet and looked inside the bag.

  There had to be some kind of mistake. She couldn’t put these clothes on.
The sparkly top, yes. It was shimmery and lovely, tight fitting with elbow-length sleeves. The shorts though. The shorts made Nina laugh out loud. They were denim cut-offs but cut so high that more than her legs would be on show. They were ridiculous, and there was no way she could wear them, no way she could walk around with her bottom hanging out. Nina thought that she would explain, say it in a kind way so that Shaz didn’t feel stupid. She put the top on anyway, amazed at how it clung to her like a second skin. The tiny thong-style knickers at the bottom of the bag were funny too. Imagine the staff at the home finding them in the wash, she thought, giggling. The bra was unlike any bra Nina had ever seen, let alone worn. She didn’t think it would fit at all.

  The last thing in the bag was the shoes. Nina held one in her hand and looked at it. It was like a shoe from a film, a shoe from a world where a taxi might be waiting outside to take a person to the next exciting place. This was a shoe Nina couldn’t help wanting. A red shoe, a shoe with a high, slender heel and a little ankle strap. She slipped it on, amazed to find that it was exactly the right size.

  That will have to be it, she thought. Shaz will have to be content that I’m wearing two of the things. She stuck her grubby trainers into the bag with her shirt and jumper and walked out of the toilets. She had to walk slowly because the heels were nearly impossible to walk in. It was like wearing stilts, and she resisted an urge to hold her arms out to both sides like a tightrope walker. She looked over to where Shaz was waiting at a table, hoping to catch her eye and smile, but Shaz was deep in conversation with an odd-looking man. He had a big head and hardly any neck, so from where Nina was he looked exactly like a toad. Shaz seemed to be holding herself stiffly, bending the top half of her body as far back as she could without taking a step. Nina’s first thought was that he was dangerous, and that she should help Shaz, but something held her back. Shaz looked scared, that was what held Nina back. If Nina jumped in to help, she could make things worse. Plus, and she knew this was a terrible, cowardly thought, if Shaz was scared then the man must be terrifying. Shaz didn’t care about anything, Nina knew she wouldn’t be easily frightened. They appeared to be arguing about something, Nina could see Shaz gesticulating and at one point the toad man wagged his finger in Shaz’s face. In a minute, Nina thought, in a minute I’ll go over. Or, she looked round the restaurant, or maybe tell someone, get some help.