Peter James: Need You Dead

Right now she could not wait to leave.

A Van Morrison CD was playing. Days Like This.

With a huge grin, she began to nod her head along to it. Balling her fists in the air, she suddenly sang out loud, ‘Days like this! Yayyyyy!’

Then her phone — her private phone — pinged with a text.

On my way! 29.272 mins to arrival! Crazy to see you!

Get naked for me!

Shit , she thought. Shit, shit, shit. She looked at her watch. It was 5.25 p.m. An hour sooner than she had been expecting him at the very earliest. Shit!

She ran into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Her hair looked like she’d been through a tornado, and her make-up could have been applied by Jackson Pollock. She turned on the taps, and whilst the bath was filling she peered into the rapidly misting-up mirror and started to sort out her face, glancing intermittently at her watch. She wanted to be ready for the bastard and looking her best for the confrontation.

She plugged in the dryer, carefully, holding it with two fingers. As she switched it on there was a fizz and crackle from the socket. The machine whirred into life and she directed the hot air at the mistedup mirror. Some minutes later, when the bath was full, she dropped her dressing gown, eased herself into the tub, and began soaping her body, thinking back dreamily over the past couple of hours.

In what seemed like an instant later, a good fifteen minutes before she expected him, Greg in a sharp navy suit, striped shirt and a collegiate tie at half mast, was towering over her, holding in his hand a bunch of weary-looking flowers, which had petrol station written all over them.

‘My baby! God, I’ve missed you!’ He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, and as he did so, she turned her head away, offering him her cheek.

‘Uh?’ he said, standing back up with a frown.

‘Fuck you,’ she said.

‘Hey, baby — what is it?’

‘Had a nice time in the Maldives last month with poor, sick “Belinda” did you? Helped her recover her mental state?’

‘It was shit,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you. I had a terrible time. We barely spoke a word to each other for the entire fortnight. I woke up every morning wishing it was you with me.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘I promise you, Lorna. Every single day I said to myself, “Another shitty day in paradise. Because I’m with the wrong woman.”’

‘Go and take a look at my laptop on the dining table, Greg. Do you really think I’m an idiot? Go on, take a look! I’ve left it on, and disabled the password, so you can sodding see for yourself.’

He backed out of the room. After some moments he came back in. ‘Where did you get that from?’

‘Does it matter, Greg ? You had a terrible time, did you? Poor you. It doesn’t look like you were having a terrible time — you and Belinda look quite cosy to me.’

‘Baby, listen — please listen to me. I know what it must look like.’

‘Do you? Do you really?’

‘Yes.’

‘No you don’t, you have no idea.’

‘Listen—’

‘No,’ she interrupted him. ‘You listen to me for once. I’ve believed your bloody lies all this time. Now I know who you really are, you bastard. Greg! Ha! Did you really think I’d never find out? How stupid do you think I am?’

‘Baby!’

‘ Baby! ’ she mimicked. ‘Don’t baby me. I’m not your baby. I’m not your convenient little shag on the side. Not any more.’

‘Hey, I love you, baby.’

‘No, you don’t love me. You just love shagging me.’

‘It’s not like that at all, trust me. Please, baby.’

‘I’ve trusted you for all this time, you lying creep. God, I feel a fool.’

‘Lorna — Jesus — don’t be like this.’

‘Oh, how would you like me to be? Naked in bed, listening to more of your lies? For months you’ve been promising to get me away from my nightmare with Corin. For months you’ve told me one lie after another about poor, sick Belinda. ’

‘I haven’t!’

‘Oh yes you have. She’s not even called Belinda You’ve lied about your name, about who you really are, about what you do for a living. How many other girlfriends do you have all lined up, waiting for you? Are you doing the rounds of all your conquests? Is Wednesday Lorna’s turn for a shag?’

‘I love you, Lorna. I really do.’

She shook her head. ‘No, if you really loved me you’d have told me the truth long ago. I trusted you. I believed you. I thought you were who you said you were, but you aren’t, are you? Is there anything you’ve ever said to me that hasn’t been a lie?’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Listen, let me explain—’

‘No, you let me explain. Let me explain just how angry I am. I’m angry enough to destroy your life you lying shit. One phone call is all it’s going to take and your career will be fucked. Believe me. Then one more and it’ll be your marriage. To poor sweet, sick Belinda .’

His face ashen, he said, ‘No, Lorna. Please listen.’

She tapped her ears. ‘I don’t have room in here for any more of your shit, my head’s full of it. Bursting. No more room. Sorry!’

‘I really do love you.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Don’t say that!’

‘You have no idea how much I hate you. Just get out! Get out of here, get out of my life!’

‘Look — I’ll make it up to you. I promise.’

‘You promise? You really think I’d believe any promise you gave me, Greg ?’

‘Just let me explain,’ he said again.

She shook her head. ‘No, let me explain. I just have to dial one number on my phone and your career will be over. That’s going to happen ten seconds after you get the fuck out of here, you creep.’

He shook his head vigorously. ‘Lorna, baby, please give me the chance to explain everything.’

She picked up the bar of soap in her hand. ‘See this, Greg ? You’re just like this bar of soap.’ She closed her hand on it and the bar shot up in the air then fell with a splash into the bath. ‘You’re just as slippery.’ She glared at him, her eyes demonic, almost glazed. ‘But at least the soap makes me feel clean — you just make me feel dirty.’

‘Lorna, please.’

‘ Lorna, please ,’ she mimicked. ‘You know the worst thing of all, Greg ? I’m actually going to get pleasure out of destroying you. Totally fucking up your career and then your marriage. I really am. Hello, Belinda ! You don’t know me, but I can describe your husband’s cock — every inch of it, in fact. I could email you some photos of it, if you’d like, but I imagine you already know what it looks like. Though perhaps you’ve forgotten since it’s so long ago you last had sex — so Greg tells me.’

‘Lorna. Come on. Look — let’s talk reason.’

‘ Reason? You sound just like my husband. Let’s talk reason . Do you know what my husband did on Monday? He tried to put dog shit in my mouth. Almost every morning he picks a row about something. And almost every night. Some days I count myself lucky if he just shouts at me. Other days he hits me.’ She pointed to a bruise by her right eye. ‘This is what he did last night after he was released by the police, when he stalked me here and went ballistic. I live in hell and I’ve endured it because I believed your promises that you were going to take me away from all that, that we would have a life together. Your lies.’ She began crying. ‘Your sodding lies.’

He pulled a towel off the rack. ‘Come on, darling, let’s talk about this over a drink. I’ve brought some gorgeous Champagne. Pol Roger, your favourite.’