Page 43 of Happily Never After
‘I’m sorry.’
He smiles ruefully and points at the river. ‘It’s literally water under the bridge, isn’t it.’
‘And now?’ I ask.
‘Now, I live on my own in a fairly crappy one-bed flat in Mile End, which I’ll lose if I don’t come up with a decent idea for this game show. Shall we think about heading back?’
Without thinking, I reach out and wrap him in hug.
‘What was that for?’ he asks when I let him go. I’m relieved to see his expression is curious rather than offended.
‘I don’t know,’ I tell him honestly. ‘I just felt you needed it.’
‘I’m not sure I’m the only one,’ he says as his arms come up to draw me back in. This is a much longer hug and, after a while, I become aware that we’re no longer alone on the bridge. An elderly woman is making her way towards us.
‘Finn,’ I murmur. ‘I think that woman is watching us.’
‘So she is,’ he replies as he releases me before waving to her and calling, ‘Bonjour, Madame! C’est un matin tres beau, n’est-ce pas?’
The old woman smiles as she comes closer. ‘C’est une belle matinée pour être jeune et amoureux, oui!’
‘What did she say?’ I ask.
‘I’m not sure, but amour is love, isn’t it. She obviously thinks we’re a couple.’
Unfortunately, neither of us have sufficient grasp of the language to interpret the stream of French that comes from the old woman when she reaches us, but the expression on her face and the way she presses our hands tightly together while exhorting us to do something or other is enough to confirm our suspicions. Unable to say anything to correct her, we resort to embarrassed nodding and smiling and let her get on with it until, with a final squeeze of our hands and an earnest plea to ‘aimer férocement pour toujours, comme Bertrand et moi’, she releases us and continues on her way.
‘That was interesting,’ Finn says as we start to make our way back towards the bank. He hasn’t let go of my hand, but I’m surprised to find I’m enjoying the sensation, so decide not to mention it.
‘I think we made her day,’ I agree.
‘Tell me more about your book,’ Finn says a few minutes later. ‘Claire has murdered Darren. There’s arterial spray all up the walls and a hell of a mess. Now what? I’m guessing the police don’t pitch up and arrest her, because that wouldn’t give you much of a storyline.’
‘You’re right,’ I agree. ‘Initially, she’s numb and in shock, of course, horrified by what she’s done. But then self-preservation kicks in and she does what a lot of young women faced with a seemingly impossible situation would do.’
‘Which is?’
‘She calls her dad.’
Finn’s expression is inscrutable behind his sunglasses, but he’s making no move to release my hand as we walk.
‘Aren’t they estranged? I mean, if Darren has been coercively controlling her, he’ll have cut her off from her family early on, won’t he?’
‘Yes, but what father is going to resist a call from a daughter in distress?’
‘Fair point. So he comes round on his white charger.’
‘Something like that. But he’s out of his depth too. We’ve got a kitchen that resembles an abattoir and a dead body to dispose of.’
‘I guess you can clear up the blood with enough bleach, but I can see the body is a problem. Is there a garden they can bury it in?’
‘There is, but the risk of being spotted by the neighbours is too great.’
‘Put him in a body bag, bundle him into the boot of the car and dump him somewhere?’
‘Again, there’s a risk the neighbours will see. Plus, if the body bag leaks in the car, that’s DNA evidence tying Claire and her dad to the crime. And that’s before you factor in the risk of someone finding the body later.’
‘Bloody hell, this is hard. Remind me never to kill anyone. What’s the solution then?’
