Vicky sat up, pulling the blanket around her. The curtains were closed on both the front windows and the back, and just a thin strip of light from the streetlamps on the road lit up the room with a soft orange glow.
The knock came again on the back door. Tap tap tap. And her heart leapt as a shadow crossed the curtain on the kitchen window.
‘Vicky, are you in there?’ came a voice. It was a man. Jasper. He’d stormed off and forgotten his keys. She got up and tiptoed across the room to the kitchen window, and parted the curtains. All she could see through the glass was the dark yard and the huge branches of the oak tree, lit up by the light pollution from the surrounding sky.
‘Vicky, are you there?’ came the voice again. It was Jasper, she thought. The knock came for a third time, soft and inoffensive, and she went to the door, slid the deadbolt across and turned the lock. It opened with a judder. It wasn’t Jasper, it was a familiar, unexpected face. He smiled.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘Hello,’ replied Vicky, thrown as to why he was here, at her sister’s back door.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, feeling more confused than anything else.
‘I know this seems odd, but can I come in for a moment?’ he asked. ‘Just out of the cold. We need to have a word. Talk and clear things up.’ Vicky took a step back and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. She went to switch on the light but he put his hand up to her arm.
‘No. Don’t switch it on.’
‘Why not?’ she replied, now feeling unease creeping up amongst the confusion. He stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder.
Vicky pulled away from him. She wanted to put the light on and see his face properly. She reached out for the switch again and he grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly.
‘No,’ he said. He suddenly pulled her towards him and she resisted. His body felt warm against hers, and his grip was strong. She went to shout but his hand closed over her mouth. He seemed to shift on his feet very quickly, propelling them both deeper into the kitchen, and then she felt a hollow thump on her back, between her shoulder blades. She felt his left arm tighten around her, pulling her close. His hand was still over her mouth, but she couldn’t catch her breath. And then a sharp pain began to radiate out from her left shoulder, and something hard was pressing against her skin.
‘Shh, shush, it’ll be over soon,’ he said, his voice soothing and his breath hot against her ear. Vicky gasped and heard her chest rattle and gurgle. He took his hand away from her mouth, but the only sound she could make was a muffled wheeze. The pain was dulling and spreading out from her shoulder. He pulled her closer and she could feel he was aroused. A wetness was spreading out at the base of her back, and she felt it on the tops of her legs. As she moved her arm up to feel behind her, pain shot through her shoulder joint. All this time he stared down at her, in a strange kind of matinee idol pose. To the unaware observer, it was as if he’d taken her in his arms. Her hand closed around the cold plastic hilt of a knife. Terror shot through her, and she tried to break free.
‘Don’t fight!’ he hissed, his lips brushing her ear. He gripped her closer with his free arm and with his other hand he grabbed the hilt of the knife and twisted the blade, which she now knew was buried up to the hilt in her back. He was now rock hard against her, pushing himself against her body, pulling her deeper into him. Squeezing. Vicky could see the stairs, so tantalizingly close. Tess was sleeping upstairs. As she opened her mouth to try and call out, blood, hot and wet, began to bubble up her throat, and spilled out over her chin. It hit the stone floor with a nasty spatter.
‘That’s it, just another minute, it will all be over,’ cooed his voice, still soft and syrupy in her ear. As he squeezed, she felt her heart pulsing as blood spilled out from her body, dripping down her legs, soaking the blanket still half draped around her shoulder. As the world began to fade out, she felt him tilt her body and lay her down on the cold tiled floor.
‘I got it wrong, it was you,’ she tried to say but it came out as just a rattle of blood.
She heard the clink as the hilt of the knife connected with the stone floor, and there was another explosion of pain, as her body weight pressed the blade deeper.
The last thing she saw were his eyes, burning deep into her, enjoying the final moments as the life left her body.
33
Erika rang Tess’s front doorbell at 9am and there was no answer. She went to the front window. The curtains were closed, and so were the curtains in the rooms upstairs. She went back and rang the bell again. She was feeling groggy after dragging herself out of her nest of blankets, and having to take a cold shower. A minute passed, and then another. She rang the bell a third time, leaning on it slightly to lengthen it out. Finally, she heard bolts being drawn back, and when Tess opened the door, she appeared wild-haired and dishevelled.