Page 55 of The Psychopath Next Door

‘Want to quit and start again?’ Fiona said, using her English accent.

‘Uh-uh. Let me play on.’

‘Do you mind if I watch?’ Patrick asked with a smile, which Fiona returned.

‘Yeah, no problem.’

He stood at the side of the table.

‘You can take a pew if you want,’ Fiona said. That was an English expression she’d never used in her life. She admonished herself:Take it easy, Fiona. Don’t overdo it.

‘I’m fine standing here,’ Patrick said. ‘Gives me a better view.’

Rose gave Patrick a little smile then focused her attention on the board. Over the next fifteen minutes she fought hard but, without her queen, she stood little chance, and soon Fiona said, ‘Checkmate. Rematch?’

They played again. This time Rose had the white pieces and it was a long, gruelling battle, trading the most valuable pieces until both players were racing to get their final pawns across the board. Rose won, punching the air as she trapped Fiona’s king in the corner.

‘You’re quite good,’ said Patrick. ‘Although I have to tell you that you missed several chances to win a while ago. May I?’

He leaned over and, from memory, set a number of pieces back on the board, just as they’d been ten minutes before. He showed Rose a couple of moves she could have made that would have led to a swifter victory.

‘I only know that because of experience, though,’ he said. ‘I certainly wasn’t as good as you when I was your age.’ He stuck out his hand to Fiona. ‘I’m Patrick.’

She met his handshake. ‘Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Bianca and this is Florence.’ They had agreed these names before he arrived.

‘That’s a good old-fashioned name,’ he said. ‘My mother was called Florence.’

‘No way!’ As if she hadn’t read it in his book.

He chuckled. ‘Yes way. Isn’t that what you young people say these days?’

‘Something like that, Patrick. Fancy giving Florence a game? She’s just going to keep beating me now, and it gets depressing.’

He hesitated, but only for a second. ‘I can never resist a game. But go easy on me, Florence.’

Fiona shuffled along and Patrick sat down. They began to play, Rose white, him black. Fiona was impressed to see Rose use the Ponziani Opening, creating tension with the pawns in the centre of the board. Patrick looked impressed too, and in the early stages Fiona thought that all his boasting in his memoir had merely been that: boasting. But then his experience began to show as he luredRose into a trap and quickly took control, winning the game as if he had a computer in his head telling him the best moves.

‘Again,’ Rose said. ‘Is that okay, Mum?’

She met Fiona’s eye and Fiona felt a little thrill run through her.Mum. It felt strange but rather wonderful. Not because she had any maternal instincts, but because it meant Rose was going along with her plan and, Fiona was sure, would continue to do so. In that moment, Fiona could see the future unfolding before her: a future that went beyond her modest three-part revenge scheme. A future where she and Rose were together – unstoppable, unbeatable. Because who would ever believe this lovely mother and daughter could be responsible for all the things Fiona’s black heart craved?

As they started their second game, Patrick said to Fiona, ‘Did you teach her to play? It’s wonderful to see so many young people getting into the game these days. Are you a member of a club, Florence?’

Fiona was worried Rose might temporarily forget her fake name, but she was too good. She said, ‘I was in my school club, but they’re all rubbish.’

The game continued and Fiona chatted with Patrick, spinning him a story about how she was a single mother and how hard it was with childcare in the school holidays, especially as Florence’s dad was so useless. He seemed to be taking it in, even if he also didn’t appear particularly interested. She told him how she wished she could afford to hire a chess coach for ‘Florence’ or even afford to buy some good books.

He defeated Rose again, then went back through the game pointing out what she should have done differently. He had a superior tone, quite patronising, which Fiona knew Rose would find annoying.

‘Well, it was lovely to meet you, Pat, but me and Flo had better make a move. I want to actually see the village before we go home.But before we do, could you recommend some books? I could maybe have a look for them in the library.’

‘You know, I have a couple of books I could let you have. A little gift as a thank you for entertaining me for an hour.’

‘Oh, we couldn’t.’

‘Honestly, I’d be very happy to give them to you. I’m never going to need them again, and I’d like them to go to a good home. I only live down the road. If you don’t mind accompanying me, I can fetch them for you.’

‘What do you think, Florence?’

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