Holly Jackson - A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

Of course, I am asking them to remember a night over five years ago. Certain lapses in memory are to be expected.

But then there’s this thing Max said, that Naomi was M.I.A. Though he said he didn’t remember how long Naomi was gone for, he had just before indicated that he spent ‘most’ of the night with Millie and Jake and for that particular activity Naomi wasn’t there. Let’s just say I can infer that she was ‘upstairs’ for at least an hour. But why? Why would she be upstairs alone at Max’s house instead of with her friends? Unless Max just accidentally told me that Naomi left the house for a period of time that night and he’s trying to cover for her.

I can’t believe I’m actually going to type this, but I’m starting to suspect that Naomi could have had something to do with Andie. I’ve known her eleven years. I’ve lived almost my whole life looking up to her as a big sister, so I might learn how to be one too. Naomi’s kind; the sort of person who’d give you an encouraging smile when you’re mid-story and everyone else has stopped listening. She’s mild-tempered, she’s delicate, calm. But could she be unstable? Is it in her to be violent?

I don’t know, I’m getting ahead of myself. But there’s also what Ravi said, that he thought Naomi was in love with his brother. It’s pretty clear from her answers too that she didn’t particularly like Andie. And her interview, it was just so awkward, so tense. I know I was asking her to relive some bad memories but the same goes for Max and his was a breeze. Then again . . . was Max’s interview too easy? Was he just a bit too aloof ?

I don’t know what to think but I can’t help it, my imagination just threw off its leash and stuck its middle finger up at me. I’m now picturing a scene: Naomi kills Andie in a jealous rage. Sal stumbles across the scene, confounded and distraught. His best friend has killed his girlfriend.

But he still cares for Naomi so he helps her dispose of Andie’s body and they agree to never speak of it. But he can’t hide from the terrible guilt of what he helped conceal. The only escape he can think of is death.

Or maybe I’m making a something out of a nothing?

Most likely. Either way, I think she has to go on the list.

I need a break.

Persons of Interest

Jason Bell

Naomi Ward

‘OK, so now we just need frozen peas, tomatoes and thread,’ Pip’s mum said, holding the shopping list out at arm’s length so she could decipher Victor’s scribbles.

‘That says bread,’ said Pip.

‘Oh yes, you’re right,’ Leanne giggled, ‘that could have made for some interesting sandwiches this week.’

‘Glasses?’ Pip pulled a packaged loaf off the shelf and chucked it in the basket.

‘Nope, I’m not admitting defeat yet. Glasses make me look old,’ Leanne said, opening the freezer section.

‘That’s OK, you are old,’ said Pip, for which she received a cold whack on the arm with a bag of frozen peas. As she dramatically feigned her demise to the fatal pea wound, she caught sight of him watching her. Dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. Laughing quietly into the back of his hand.

‘Ravi,’ she said, crossing the aisle over to him. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi,’ he smiled, scratching the back of his head, just as she thought he might.

‘I’ve never seen you in here before.’ Here was Little Kilton’s only supermarket, pocket-sized and tucked in by the train station.

‘Yeah, we usually shop out of town,’ he said. ‘But milk emergency.’ He held up a vat-size bottle of semi-skimmed.

‘Well, if only you had your tea black.’

‘I’ll never cross to the dark side,’ he said, looking up as Pip’s mum came over with her filled basket. He smiled at her.

‘Oh, Mum, this is Ravi,’ Pip said. ‘Ravi, my mum, Leanne.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Ravi said, hugging the milk to his chest and stretching out his right hand.

‘You too,’ Leanne said, shaking his offered palm. ‘Actually, we’ve met before. I was the agent who sold your parents’ house to them, gosh, must be fifteen years ago. I remember you were about five at the time and always wore a Pikachu onesie with a tutu.’

Ravi’s cheeks glowed. Pip held in her nose-laugh until she saw that he was smiling.

‘Can you believe that trend never caught on?’ he chuckled.

‘Yeah, well, Van Gogh’s work was unappreciated in his own time as well,’ Pip said as they all wandered over to the till.

‘You go on ahead of us,’ Leanne said, gesturing to Ravi, ‘we’ll take much longer.’

‘Oh, really? Thanks.’

Ravi strode up to the till and gave the woman working there one of his perfect smiles. He placed the milk down and said, ‘Just that, please.’

Pip watched the woman, and saw the creases crawl through her skin as her face folded with disgust. She scanned the milk, staring at Ravi with cold and noxious eyes. Fortunate, really, that looks couldn’t actually kill. Ravi was looking down at his feet like he hadn’t noticed but Pip knew he had.

Something hot and primal stirred in Pip’s gut. Something that, in its infant stages, felt like nausea, but it kept swelling and boiling until it even reached her ears.

‘One pound forty-eight,’ the lady spat.

Ravi pulled out a five-pound note but when he tried to give her the money, she shuddered and withdrew her hand sharply. The note fell in an autumnal glide to the floor and Pip ignited.

‘Hey,’ she said loudly, marching over to stand beside Ravi. ‘Do you have a problem?’

‘Pip, don’t,’ Ravi said quietly.

‘Excuse me, Leslie,’ Pip read out snidely from her name tag, ‘I asked if you had a problem?’

‘Yeah,’ the woman said, ‘I don’t want him touching me.’

‘I think it’s safe to say he doesn’t want you touching him either, Leslie; stupidity might be catching.’

‘I’m going to call my manager.’

‘Yeah, you do that. I’ll give them a sneak peek of the complaint emails I’ll drown your head office in.’

Ravi put the five-pound note down on the counter, picked up his milk and strode silently towards the exit.

‘Ravi?’ Pip called, but he ignored her.

‘Whoa.’ Pip’s mum stepped forward now, hands up in the surrender position as she came to stand between Pip and the reddening Leslie.

Pip turned on her heels, trainers screaming against the over-polished floor. Just before she reached the door, she called back: ‘Oh, but, Leslie, you should really see someone about getting that arsehole removed from your face.’

Outside she could see Ravi thirty feet away pacing quickly down the hill. Pip, who didn’t run for anything, ran to catch him.

‘Are you OK?’ she said, stepping in front of him.

‘No.’ He carried on round her, the giant milk bottle sloshing at his side.

‘Did I do something wrong?’

Ravi turned, dark eyes flashing. He said, ‘Look, I don’t need some kid I hardly know fighting my battles for me. I’m not your problem, Pippa; don’t try to make me your problem. You’re only going to make things worse.’

He kept walking and Pip watched him go until the shade from a cafe awning dimmed and took him away. Standing there, breathing hard, she felt the rage retreat back into her gut where it slowly simmered out. She was hollow when it left her.

Pippa Fitz-Amobi

EPQ 18/08/2017

Let it never be said that Pippa Fitz-Amobi is not an opportunistic interviewer. I was at Cara’s house again today with Lauren. The boys joined us later too, though they insisted the football be on in the background. Cara’s dad, Elliot, was chattering on about something when I remembered: he knew Sal pretty well, not just as his daughter’s friend but as Sal’s teacher. I’ve already got character assessments from Sal’s friends and brother (his generational peers, I might say) but I thought maybe Cara’s dad would have some further adult insights. Elliot agreed to it; I didn’t give him much choice.