A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

by Rosalind Stopps

  By the time we were on the dual carriageway and heading for Margate, things were pretty dire.

  ‘Am I driving OK?’ Daphne asked Grace.

  It was easy to tell that Grace had been a teacher. She was calm and encouraging, exactly the kind of teacher I would have wanted for my children. She might even have taught my daughter, I thought, that’s the kind of coincidence that could happen so easily. It was a shame I didn’t know what her name was, or what she had looked like.

  Daphne was getting more panicky.

  ‘I’m sure there’s someone,’ she said.

  I decided to try not to worry but when Grace joined in I thought, hey ho, something really isn’t right with the world. I didn’t listen to the violin. I blame myself, I did then and I do now. I didn’t listen to the violin because I couldn’t hear it above the happiness. I was so happy, truly madly deeply happy, just for a moment. I remembered once before when I was happy like this, it might have been when the baby was born, before they took her, or in that summer when Henry was away, or maybe it was in the winter before I met him. Or when I had a dog. It was a slightly familiar feeling, the feeling I had that night in the car, that’s all I knew.

  There was a feeling of togetherness in the car. Nina snuggled in to me and every so often Grace would turn around and say, ‘Everyone OK in the back?’ and Nina would give a thumbs up. Of course I knew there was scary stuff outside. I hope Daphne and Grace knew that I knew that. Dogs, babies and young people though, you have to keep calm for them. I think Grace tried to give me a look to show that she was worried, to include me with the grown ups, and I was grateful for that.

  ‘Good driving,’ I called once, when Daphne overtook something.

  ‘Thanks, Meg,’ she said and it sounded as though she was pleased.

  Sometimes I think they’re not sure if I’m on the same page as them. I think it’s the way they look surprised if I make an intelligent suggestion, but I might have been imagining that. I’m not sure. I didn’t mention how cosy it was, despite the danger, how happy I was. That would have proved that I was stupid. But it was, nonetheless. Just the four of us. I wished I had some way to keep us all safe. A foolproof good luck charm.

  It was good when Grace took over the driving. Much less jerky. I wondered for a moment whether I would have been a good driver. I knew exactly how to do it, I’d watched Henry often enough. He had a way of explaining things to me that was crystal clear, even though there was always a built-in clause that also made it clear that he thought I wouldn’t understand at all.

  ‘You see here, Meg,’ he said one day when we were going shopping, ‘I’m moving down through the gears as I approach the roundabout. A lot of people slam on the brakes at this point, I’m sure if it was you behind the wheel we’d be hopping like kangaroos, hoppity-hop.’

  He threw back his head and guffawed, slapping the steering wheel at his own joke. ‘Hoppity-hop, oh dear,’ he said. ‘That’s funny, isn’t it, kangaroo Meg?’

  And just like that, it was as though I’d actually done it. I hated that. It was unfair, and it drove me mad. He called me kangaroo Meg for months even though I had never had the chance to drive in any way, badly or not. I think I might have become a good driver, in other circumstances.

  ‘Do people sometimes learn to drive really late in life?’ I asked the other women in the car.

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ Daphne said. ‘Do you, Grace?’

  ‘I reckon,’ said Grace, driving more smoothly than Henry ever did. ‘I reckon that we do most things better when we’re older.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Nina and everyone laughed.

  I could tell that she wasn’t really offended. It broke the ice a little and Grace and Daphne started talking about when they learned to drive and how quickly they passed their tests.

  ‘Driving is good if you have a dog,’ I said. ‘You can take it for walks in nice parks.’

  Looking back I think I was hoping to move the conversation to dogs for safety, and that might have happened if it hadn’t become clearer and clearer that the car behind was following us.

  ‘I’m going to swing off the main road and double back,’ Grace said. ‘Hold on to your seats, folks.’

  She was sniffing a lot, as if she had a cold or she’d been crying.

  I wasn’t sure if we should be turning off, it seemed safer to be on the main road.

  ‘Isn’t it better if we stay on the main drag?’ I said but she had turned by then so it was pretty pointless.

  ‘I was probably wrong,’ Grace said, ‘he probably wasn’t following us at all.’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne said, ‘tailgating for no good reason, more like. Better safe than sorry.’

  I murmured some kind of agreement but the air in the car felt tense and I know what I’m talking about when it comes to tense. I could sort and grade tension into many categories and sub categories if I needed to, having lived with it so long. This tension felt tight, as if the air was being sucked from the car. It wasn’t good, and I had to remember that we were doing what we thought was best in difficult circumstances, that was the important thing.

  We were going fast along a small road when it happened. The houses along the road were set back, with big gardens. They mostly seemed to have their lights out and I was going to say something about everyone being in bed when there was a kind of bumping, splintering sound.

  ‘Shit,’ Daphne said, but Grace just hunched over the steering wheel, picked up speed and carried on. I put my arm round Nina and she grabbed my hand and hung onto it so tightly I could feel my arthritic thumb joint howling.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said, ‘don’t worry, everything will be all right.’

  I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t. It wasn’t all right at all. The car swerved like crazy and I realised that the big black car, the big black car from someone’s nightmare, had overtaken us and skewed to a stop right in front, so that we had no choice but to stop too. I had time to think that in a film Grace would probably have revved up, reversed and screamed round it but Daphne’s car was a little old French one and no good for car-chase manoeuvres so it came to a halt.

  ‘Lock the doors,’ Daphne shouted and I realised that Nina had frozen with terror so I reached over to do it but I wasn’t quick enough.

  I didn’t get there in time and I’ve relived that moment so many times since. I think I could have done it if I’d been quicker, I’m sure I could, but I had the damn violin screeching in my head so hard it slowed me down. I wondered if my mother had been slowed down by it as well. It’s amazing how many thoughts can go through a person’s head in a teeny-tiny amount of time.

  I leaned past Nina and grabbed the door handle. I tried to keep it shut and lock the door but there was already someone out there, pulling on it and then pulling on Nina and she shouted, ‘Meggie,’ and reached for me and I reached for her but something slammed into my face and I let go.

  I let go. I could hear her screaming and then I heard Grace and Daphne get out of the car and they were shouting and Grace thought later that she had got one punch in but it was dark and confusing and we are old. We are old enough to need a hand getting out of a car on a good day, never mind with someone thirty years younger and his nasty crew pushing and shoving and hitting and pushing.

  They were in the big car and away before we could do anything to help her. Nina. With those thugs, the thought was unbearable.

  ‘The registration number,’ Daphne said, ‘the registration number, did anyone get it?’

  I think she knew before she said it that none of us had.

  ‘It was covered up,’ Grace said. She was crying as she spoke. ‘It was covered, I couldn’t see it, shall I try to follow?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne and I said, ‘Go, go, go.’

  I forgot my poor sore face and sat on the edge of my seat, as if I was watching a car chase in the cinema rather than being in one. I held on to the back of Grace’s driving seat and tried not to push her forwards. I think we all knew it was poin
tless but that was not a thing that could be admitted. Not then, not ever. ‘Go, go, go,’ I muttered under my breath. Every part of me was taut, strung out and buzzing like an electric train line as we raced off down the road in the same direction but there was no doubt about it, their car was faster. It wasn’t long before we had no idea which way they’d gone. No sign of which road they might have taken at the crossroads. We tried all of them, of course, getting more and more desperate with every turn, but there was nothing to see. Somewhere around Bexley we pulled into a lay-by and Grace put her head on the steering wheel and sobbed. Daphne put her arms round her and made sshh, sshh noises but Grace was as sad as a person could be.

  ‘They’ll kill her,’ she said, ‘they’ll kill her.’

  I suppose I hadn’t allowed myself to think it through until then but as soon as Grace said it I realised it was true. They would be mad as hell with her and they would know that she had told us everything. They might well kill her.

  ‘What about the police?’ I said. ‘Shouldn’t we go and report it to the police?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Daphne said. ‘I don’t know, I don’t know. Have things changed? Is it OK now? I want to help her so much but I’m not sure. I’m not convinced that wouldn’t make things worse.’

  Grace looked at Daphne, the kind of look that makes a person stop and think.

  ‘What do you know, Daph?’ Grace said quietly. ‘Help us to make the right decision here.’

  ‘OK,’ said Daphne, ‘OK, let me think this through. Worst case? He kills her, to shut her up. Or, he slithers away, and she ends up in prison. In prison, that sweet little girl. It happens, I mean it happened to me, oh, long ago and far away but it can happen.’

  I had guessed that something terrible must have happened to Daphne and I could see from Grace’s expression that she had thought it too.

  ‘Thank you for telling us that,’ said Grace and I nodded along, wanting to show her that I had realised what a big deal it was, her sharing like that. Grace touched Daphne’s face.

  ‘Not to mention,’ said Grace, ‘the credibility angle. Think about it. Three old women, two of them women of colour, turn up with a story about a missing girl. She was probably reported missing by social services, but even though she’s still under eighteen the police probably assumed she’d gone off with friends. They don’t look for those kind of young people so hard, I’m sure they don’t. So she won’t be on their radar. We’re not related to her, we don’t know her second name, we don’t know the address we want to report her missing from. We could be making things worse.’

  There was silence for a moment as we all tried to take in what was happening. I wasn’t sure. I still wanted to tell someone in authority, play by the rules. Someone other than us should be out looking for her, that’s what I thought, although Daphne and Grace were convincing too. That’s the thing with you, Meg, Henry would have said, you don’t know anything, do you?

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I said.

  ‘Me neither,’ Daphne said. ‘Maybe we should just cover all bases? Maybe the police have changed since my day?’

  ‘Oh God,’ Grace said. ‘Oh lord, I suppose we’ve got to. We don’t want to annoy them in any way, while they’ve got Nina, but someone needs to know. I’ll ring the police.’

  I was relieved, I’ll admit it.

  Grace pulled her phone out of her pocket and as if on cue, it rang.

  ‘Shit,’ she said, looking at it, ‘it’s her, it’s the phone I gave Nina last night.’

  She pressed loudspeaker and opened the call.

  ‘No need to say anything,’ he said. His horrible voice with the Belgian accent and the menace made me shudder. ‘Let’s face it, I’m not interested in anything you have to say. So shut up. I just want to tell you, in case any of you were getting any stupid ideas, that I have papers that prove she is my daughter. And if you report my daughter missing to the police, not only will I say that you are all demented, but also I know where you all live. I know that and I will use it and I will come for you. Do you get that? Oh, and one other thing. Before I come for you I will hurt this stupid, stupid girl. Do you understand me?’

  We all sat there, in the dark car, looking at each other. None of us said anything.

  ‘Nina,’ he called, ‘or Zodiac or whatever the fuck we’re going to call you next, come here and tell the nice ladies that I’m serious.’

  We all held our breath, wanting to hear her speak.

  ‘I’m OK,’ she said. Her voice sounded small and very scared. ‘I’m OK but please, he means it, stay away.’

  Nina’s voice tailed off into a grunt as if she had been winded but was trying not to make a sound. The phone call ended. I felt absolutely desperate. If he had turned up at that moment, that toad man, I think I could have torn him into pieces by myself. I could see that the others felt the same.

  Grace was the first one to pull herself together.

  ‘Buckle up,’ she said, ‘we need to talk this through.’

  I didn’t bother to do up my seat belt and Grace drove fast until we got to a lighted street, and a coffee bar.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, practically leaping out of the car, ‘we’ve got to talk. I’ve got an idea.’

  It seemed weird, being in a coffee shop when I was usually sitting at home. I couldn’t stop thinking about Nina, and whether she was OK, whether she was hurt, what was happening to her, whether she blamed me. People all around us living normal lives, on dates, on the way home from a shift, all sorts of reasons to be there but none of them as terrible as ours. I was sure of that. I wondered what they would do in our situation, whether they would have better ideas, or contacts in the police force, or a safe house they could use. I even wished for a moment that Nina was someone else’s problem, in case they would handle it better.

  I was desperate to hear Grace’s idea but I had no idea what it might be. I was almost at my lowest ebb when Grace made her suggestion. Her suggestion, her great suggestion, her amazing suggestion about killing him, killing the toad man. It was the best idea I’d ever heard. It was great and it was brave. I wanted to clap. I didn’t care about my bloody lip and my swollen face, I felt like life had a meaning, maybe for the first time ever. I felt alive.

  ‘I feel as though I could do it myself,’ Daphne said.

  I couldn’t speak so I just nodded.

  Grace put her head in her hands for a moment, and then we did it. We talked about money and methods and everything, the whole thing. I took notes in my head to keep myself busy and we made the pact, to consolidate it all.

  ‘It’s like going back to being beginners, isn’t it?’ Grace said. ‘I mean, I’m used to knowing what I’m doing, most of the time at least,’ she blushed then as she looked at Daphne.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ I said. ‘We are all beginners at this.’

  Of course I wasn’t actually so much of a beginner as them but that was different, and I didn’t feel the need to share.

  It was really late by the time we had finished. I’m old, and that’s the only excuse I have, but it wasn’t until I felt my phone buzzing and saw the word ‘Henry’ on the screen that I remembered.

  ‘Nina has got another phone,’ I said. ‘I gave her Henry’s old one last night.’

  The other two stared at me. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten.

  ‘I can’t talk for long,’ Nina said, ‘but I’m OK, honestly. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’

  That was it, and then she was gone. It was almost like winning the lottery, except I didn’t believe her. She didn’t sound OK, and I was glad we had made our plans. There was something else though. The phone call had made me remember something else. Something modern, something that made me feel I could hold my own with the other women. Something that made me feel pleased for once that Henry had been such an old bore. A control freak, I think they’d call him these days. Coercive control, that’s what he specialised in.

  ‘Henry liked to know where I was all the time,’ I said. />
  I could see the other two wondering what on earth I was talking about.

  ‘Henry was my husband,’ I explained, ‘not the right kind of husband, but nonetheless.’

  ‘We’ve got to get on with things, Meg,’ Grace said, ‘maybe we can talk about this another time.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘no you don’t understand. Henry liked to know where I was all the time. So he had this thing, on both our phones, so that we knew where each other was. He only wanted it one way, you see, he didn’t think I needed to know where he was, but he wasn’t great with technology. He thought he was, but actually he wasn’t very good at all. I could do more of that sort of thing than he could, but I never said. I pretended I was stupid, it wasn’t difficult. I never disabled it, that’s the thing, I don’t know why. I think I liked knowing where he was, which was nowhere, so it was kind of ironic.’

  They both looked puzzled and I remembered Henry saying, you discombobulate people with all your going round the houses to tell a simple fact. Just say it, you nincompoop. So I did.

  ‘All the time Nina carries that phone,’ I said, ‘we’ll know where she is. Look.’

  I got my phone out and went to the app.

  ‘She’s back in Brockley,’ I said. ‘She’s in spitting distance of my house. Look.’

  They both crowded in this time, looking to see the miracle I seemed to have performed. Grace punched the air and Daphne blew me a kiss.

  ‘Oh, well done, Meg, I’m so glad you’re here. Technical skills and everything,’ Daphne said.

  I felt so proud. For the first time I believed in our plan, really believed in it. We were going to do it.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ Grace said, sniffing as she spoke. ‘We’ve got this, ladies. We may be beginners, but we’re smart. We’re going to smash it.’