A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

by Rosalind Stopps

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘I’ll think about that.’

  I went back to repeating the call, but I kept thinking about Henry.

  I repeated the part where we agreed that toad would arrive alone with just Nina, and that they would get out of the car together.

  ‘I think I asked him to keep his hands in sight,’ I said.

  ‘You did,’ Des said. ‘I was proud of you.’

  ‘They’re going to walk towards us slowly,’ I said. ‘He knows all three of us will be there and he doesn’t seem to mind.’

  ‘No,’ said Grace, ‘he thinks we’re silly old women, why would he mind? And are we agreed, if he does do exactly as we’ve asked we’ll call off the Shoe people?’

  ‘Yes, the Shoe people know that,’ I said. ‘They’re waiting for one of us to give them the signal. As soon as we say “gosh”, really loudly, they’re going to act. If we don’t say it, they’re going to keep to the shadows by the café, and we will pay them anyway.’

  We all agreed that it was the only way and said things like, ‘It’s only money, it’ll be worth it.’ Henry would have hated paying for nothing, but I thought it wisest not to share any more of Henry’s wisdom for a while.

  It was difficult to know how to spend the rest of the day. In one way it felt exciting, as though we were waiting to catch a train or a plane and go somewhere special, but in another way there was more than a touch of dentist’s waiting room or death row about it. At first we didn’t feel that it was safe to leave the house. Des decided to cook, and he spent some time in the kitchen going through my cupboards. He seemed personally outraged that I had so many tins and packets past their sell-by dates and called through to the living room, where we were sitting, every time he found one. I thought a little of Henry, and how he would have loved that kind of activity, but I didn’t say anything.

  Daphne slipped out mid-afternoon to get more cash after making lots of quiet phone calls and doing calculations on a piece of paper. She said I didn’t need to cough up for a while, she trusted me to get hold of money later if we needed more. I got the feeling that money wasn’t a problem for her at all, despite her odd clothes.

  She’d changed her outfit when she got back with the money, so she must have been back to her house. I think it was her attempt at camouflage clothing, because she was dressed more drably than usual, although the combinations were still odd. Brown trousers with an orange check, and a striped purple and red jumper. They looked right on her, her clothes, and I made a mental note to stop trying to blend in with the background so much, if I’m ever out clothes shopping again. I imagined what it might be like to go shopping with Nina, buy her some pretty clothes. I had a lot of random thoughts that day. If I ever cook a meal again it’ll be a hearty vegetable stew, and if I ever go to Henry’s grave again I’ll tell him all about this, that sort of thing. I tried to think through what might happen, follow a logical line but prison or a shootout with all of us ending up dead were definite possibilities so I stopped that.

  Just when I couldn’t stand the sound of Des’s emery board as he filed his nails for a moment longer, it was time to go and look at our meeting point again.

  I was glad to be doing something useful. I’ve always had difficulty visualising locations even when I know them well. Where things are in relation to each other, that kind of thing. I was even more pleased when we got up there, and I realised the distance from the café to where the cars would park was greater than I had imagined. All possible, but good to be clear. I could hear Henry in my ear talking about how important good planning is if you want to achieve results, but I didn’t share it with my friends. That’s what we were now, friends, I was sure of it.

  ‘He will park here,’ Grace said, gesticulating towards the top of the road, ‘and we’ll be waiting here.’

  She pointed to a tree on a slight incline, where we would be able to see all around us.

  ‘He comes towards us like this,’ she said, ‘and we wait here.’ I could imagine her directing successful school plays. She was good at explaining. It all seemed so clear when she told us how things would be, I believed it might work. It was our best chance, and maybe the money would be enough without any further action. Wouldn’t it feel good, I kept thinking, to know that we had rescued a whole person, made her world different, given her the life she should have had all along? And wouldn’t it be the best thing in the world to see Nina’s little face and know she was safe? I think I zoned out of what Grace and Daphne were saying for a moment. When I joined in again, and it can’t have been more than a moment’s lapse, Grace was miming dragging something heavy over to the bins. I felt shocked, and I must have looked it.

  ‘We can’t just leave him here,’ Grace said. ‘I’m hoping the Shoe people will clear up but if not, I’m thinking about the children on their way to school the next morning.’

  It was a fair point. If we tucked him out of the way, no one would have to deal with the nastiness until we’d made an anonymous phone call and got the proper authorities out, with bio-hazard suits.

  ‘Wouldn’t the world be a great place,’ Daphne said, ‘if everyone was as responsible as us?’

  I was about to agree but then she and Grace burst out laughing and I realised that they were making a joke. I wasn’t sure if it was funny. Of course, we were planning a murder and that’s not a very responsible thing to do, but I hoped we were on the side of the angels, so it was different. A mercy killing, that’s how we needed to think of it.

  I tried to keep thinking that way. All the way through. I tried to listen to the violin, just enough and not too much. Without getting carried away. If I’m honest, I’ve never been more aware of what was happening minute to minute and second to second than I was then. It was as if I was suddenly in a slow-motion film.

  We were there early. Of course. We are probably never late, any one of us. Old people aren’t late, usually. Des came too but he went and stood by a tree, behind the café. It was cold and dark and scary as hell, but we stood and waited, jiggling on the spot we’d marked out earlier to keep warm and trying to boost each other’s spirits. I wished I could forget what we were waiting for. For a few moments it felt as though it was just us, the night and the trees. If I squinted hard I thought I could make out the shapes of the leaf buds on the branches. It seemed as though there was a special message for us hidden in there. Nice stuff is going to happen again, the leaf buds promised, if you bide your time and wait.

  At about eleven forty-five, the Shoe people arrived and slipped away into the trees. They were very quiet, and I was pleased to see that the little dog had stayed at home out of the cold. I wanted to smile, wave, make some kind of gesture to show I appreciated them turning up but Grace and Daphne had been very specific about that.

  ‘However much you want to speak to the Shoe people when they come,’ Grace had said, ‘remember that toad may be watching from somewhere nearby. Even if we can’t see anything at all, we have to bear in mind that we could be overlooked at all times. Just imagine that there’s a helicopter overhead with a person inside with a telescope. You won’t go far wrong that way.’

  I remembered a documentary I had seen about the war in Vietnam, and tried to imagine crawling on my stomach across the tennis courts.

  I could hear the car crunching up the unpaved road towards us before I was ready to face it. For a moment I let the sound of wheels on gravel remind me of summer trips I hadn’t made. It must be the sound you could hear late at night on a campsite, I thought, lying in a tent. Grace nudged me.

  ‘You OK?’ she whispered.

  I nodded. Toad man got out of the car. He brushed himself down and made a good show of not having a care in the world. He looked over at the three of us as if he’d bumped into us at a small party.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘ladies, ladies, ladies.’

  It struck me that I’ve never been called a lady as often as I have since this criminal business began, and I stored the thought to share with the others later.


  Grace and Daphne were both craning their necks to see if Nina was in the car.

  Toad man looked over his shoulder at the car as though he was checking too.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘you’re very sensible, best to check. She’s in there all right, aren’t you, my dear?’

  He raised his voice on the last part and I could definitely see a little movement inside the car. Not enough to be sure though, and I could see that Grace and Daphne agreed because they were both holding themselves very tensely. Something about the line of their shoulders. I touched Grace’s arm and she stepped forward slightly.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘let her out and we’ll keep our agreement.’

  Daphne touched her top pocket where the money was. I’m not sure if she realised she was doing it but I could see toad man was clocking everything.

  ‘I don’t think that’s the way it goes,’ he said. ‘Do you?’

  ‘We agreed,’ said Grace.

  Her voice was firm and scornful, with not a trace of a shake. I took my hat off to her, I really did. I knew if I said anything it would come out as a pathetic squeak. I concentrated instead on trying to see Nina in the back of the car, make sure she was OK. It was impossible to tell. My night vision has never been good, and worse since I had my cataracts fixed.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said toad man, ‘I’ve changed my mind. Money first, please, if you’d be so kind. I don’t want to play by your rules.’

  We all kept looking ahead. We’d agreed this beforehand, whatever happens, keep looking at him, don’t look at each other or behind or anywhere else. I stopped trying to make out the shape of Nina in the car. Grace took another step forward.

  ‘Give us the girl,’ she said.

  She said it quietly but there was something in her voice that suggested steel. I imagined it must have worked a treat on the kind of boys who brought Stanley knives to school.

  Toad man didn’t say anything. He just stood there, hands by his sides as if he was waiting for something, which of course he was.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nina

  Nina was aware that Romana had not eaten for nearly three weeks now. They had stayed in the same house all that time, and Nina had seen her nearly every day. Nina had stopped looking at the fish. She stopped looking on the day the toad man brought in a little plastic bridge for the fish to swim through, and a small castle for the bottom of the tank. ‘Here you are,’ he had said. ‘I know you like that fish.’

  Romana found ways to show Nina how long she had starved herself. It wasn’t always safe to talk, so sometimes she stroked her cheek with the right number of fingers, and sometimes she was much more blatant, holding them out in front of her. The toad man and the woman who were in charge never seemed to see. Nina wondered briefly if Romana was a stooge, part of a plan aimed at demoralising the girls, but she didn’t think they were that smart.

  Nina couldn’t see any difference in Romana at first. She wasn’t even sure whether Romana was telling the truth. Today, though, things changed. Today she was sure. Romana was in the waiting room after Nina’s first punter and she looked awful.

  Nina didn’t look at Romana at first. She was too hurt, too shaken herself after her latest client. She felt unable to comprehend what was happening to her. She wondered when it would become normal to be raped and then realised that she dreaded that most of all. If it became normal, if she stopped fighting it for even a moment, Nina knew that she would be lost. She would never get back to being herself.

  She looked at the window. The heavy blind prevented most of the light from coming in, but there was an edge of grey sky showing through. Nina longed for it. Longed to smash the sickly overhead light and pull up the blinds so that she could see the clouds.

  ‘Don’t,’ Romana said. She said it so quietly that Nina wasn’t even sure whether she had really heard it or not. She looked over at Romana, who indicated with her head towards the little camera in the centre.

  ‘They love to have a reason to get angry,’ Romana said, ‘don’t play into their hands.’ She coughed and Nina could hear that it sounded painful.

  ‘I need to get out,’ Nina said. ‘This is driving me crazy.’

  ‘OK, let me tell you what I know,’ Romana said. ‘I stopped eating seventeen days ago and they’re not sure what to do with me, they’re going to have to call a doctor soon or I’ll die, but I honestly think they might finish me off first.’

  Romana waited while the camera did another turn.

  ‘Anyway, they’ve started treating me like I’m more or less invisible already,’ she said, ‘so I’ve been able to snoop a bit. We’re moving tomorrow, that’s one thing, so you’ll be back in the world again. And you’ll get your chance to run. I hope you make it.’

  ‘Romana,’ Nina said, ‘why don’t you come with me? Two is better than one, you know. And where? Where are we moving to?’

  Romana smiled, but Nina could see that it was a sad smile.

  ‘I chose what I chose,’ she said, ‘and I couldn’t run anywhere now. I started off saying I didn’t feel well when I actually did, and it seemed like an adventure. Now I feel absolutely terrible. You go, and if you can, get help for me. I’ll wait it out. And I’m sorry, I don’t know where we’re going.’

  Nina wondered how she could ever have dismissed Romana, thought she was a silly girl. She seemed marvellously brave now.

  ‘Another thing,’ Romana said, ‘I hate my name, Romana. I thought it sounded glamorous at first, you know, when they first gave it to me, but that’s stupid. I don’t want to die as Romana, it’s not me.’

  Nina waited again while the camera spun.

  ‘I’m Ronnie,’ she said, ‘that’s my real, honest name.’

  ‘Ronnie,’ said Nina, ‘suits you much better. Come on, Ronnie, change your mind, come with me. It’ll be fun, I’ll look after you.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Ronnie said, ‘you’d take twice as long if I dragged along. But what I can do is,’ she stopped to cough again, ‘I can talk it through with you now, make sure you’ve got a sensible plan and not a half-baked one. OK?’

  Nina nodded. The two girls talked in whispers and snatches of time for longer than usual. Nina flinched at every sound, sure the next man would be coming to get her at any minute. It seemed like ages before Marianne came in. She was one of the other girls, and Nina had seen her often but never really to talk to. The girls were kept away from each other most of the time, Nina presumed in order to minimise the chances of any kind of organised rebellion. In addition, Nina had seen Marianne laughing with the toad man before, and that made Nina sure she couldn’t be trusted.

  ‘Hey,’ Marianne said, ‘guess what? It’s snowing.’

  Nina and Ronnie were both quiet. They had talked about this girl before, and neither of them felt comfortable around her.

  ‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘It will be difficult travelling around later so it’s going to be quiet. Snow day.’

  She picked up one of the pornographic magazines from the small coffee table in the middle of the room and started reading.

  ‘“Sally has a master’s degree in biology,”’ Marianne read aloud, ‘“and a mistress’s degree in human biology. She’s a bluestocking but her garters are as frilly as the next woman’s.”’

  She threw the magazine across the room in disgust. ‘Where do they get this shite from?’

  Nina wasn’t sure what to do. She had understood the rules for the last few weeks. Keep your head down, don’t talk to the others, and above all keep resisting. That had been her mantra. It had seemed like not trusting anyone had been the only way, and suddenly there was a hope of companionship. Nina knew that she could be undone by a kindness. Most kids’ home kids could.

  ‘Listen,’ Marianne said, ‘I don’t give a fuck whether you two want to speak to me or not. But I’m not a fucking snitch, whatever you think. I just know how to play the game better than you, that’s all. And at the moment, I know that no one is watching that camera,’ Marianne pointed to the b
linking eye attached to the central light, ‘and I know some stuff that you might need. I’m willing to share, but not if you think I’m a fucking snitch.’

  Nina’s need to know more about the situation far outstripped her fear of Marianne. Even if she was a snitch.

  ‘Where are we?’ she said.

  ‘It’s not the question you should be asking,’ Marianne said, ‘but I’ll answer it anyway. We’re on the outskirts of Hastings, up the hill from the sea. What they do is, they hire a holiday place and set us up. I’m sure they’ve got other girls like us, other places. Brothels, that’s the old-fashioned name for it in case you hadn’t noticed where you are. And what you’re wearing.’

  All three of them were dressed only in bra and pants, despite the draught coming in from outside. Even poor sick Ronnie was huddled up in her underwear, trying to keep the heat in by holding on to her knees.

  ‘So tomorrow we’re moving on, going to London. Bright lights and all that. It’s not good news, though, they’ll be even more careful when we’re there, because they’ll be more paranoid about us running.’

  Nina only heard ‘London’. The one place where she might find safety, where she knew people.

  ‘Sorry if I thought you were, you know, one of them,’ Ronnie said.

  Marianne shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ she said.

  There was an awkward silence and then Ronnie said, ‘What are their names?’ There was an urgency in her voice that Nina recognised and worried about.

  ‘I mean,’ Ronnie continued, ‘say if one of us did get away, I don’t even know who they are, what to tell anyone. They’re so bloody careful. I mean, I know she’s Fee, but is that a name?’

  ‘That one I do know,’ Marianne said. ‘He’s Pat, Patrice Home. He’s Belgian. And she’s Fiona. That’s why he calls her Fee. They take the money while we do the graft.’

  Nina committed the names to memory. She chanted them to herself, even after the snow cleared and the men came back to the house.

  ‘You’ve got to work twice as hard now,’ Fiona said, pinching Nina’s arm. ‘You’ve had a nice morning, sitting around chatting. You want to eat, you have to work. Lazy girl.’