Killer Couples. Tammy Cohen

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СКАЧАТЬ to disperse, Stephen and Rebecca found themselves outside the bar.

      ‘Just do this, and tomorrow we could be starting a new life together,’ Stephen urged, pressing his mistress’s hand tightly.

      Rebecca could hardly speak. Now, the feeling of nausea that had been slowly building over the evening was threatening to overwhelm her and something strange was happening to her brain. It was as though she could register what Stephen was saying to her but it wasn’t quite going in. She felt removed from reality; as though she was sitting apart from herself, but watching herself go through the motions of living and breathing.

      Settling in behind the steering wheel of her Mazda, she could see her hand turn the ignition key, and she dutifully looked in the mirror before pulling out, but it still felt like someone else was doing all those things, someone separate. And it was that same separate person who turned the car away from her normal route home to Clos Rhedyn in Cwmrhydyceirw, Morriston, and towards Gorseinon. She was just going to drive past the house, she told herself; she wasn’t actually going to do anything.

      In the Potters Wheel Pub in Swansea, Stephen’s friend Andy was getting fed up. Why had Stephen made such a big fuss about meeting up tonight and asked to stay over if all he was going to do was sit there, sending text messages? He’d already sent several to one number.

      Right now he was sending one to his wife. As his fingers punched the letters on his keypad, Stephen’s face bore an expression of intense concentration mixed with something else. Excitement? Anticipation? Dread?

      He was having a drink with a friend, he told her, but would be home later. ‘Just leave the front door open and I’ll get a lift home. Love you. xxx’.

      Of course, what she didn’t know was that by failing to lock the front door from the inside as she normally did, Jaspal was effectively signing her own death warrant.

      Rebecca Harris swung the Mazda into Howard’s Way, Gorseinon. Such a classy neighbourhood, so peaceful and orderly – it would be a great place for a child to grow up, the streets quiet enough to ride bikes or play football safely. Even now, well after midnight, it didn’t feel threatening at all. You just couldn’t imagine anything bad happening in a place like this.

      As she parked outside number 25, Rebecca’s phone beeped. Another text from Stephen, promising her that the front door would be open, and that everything would be straightforward. ‘You can do it,’ he urged. ‘You are strong enough.’

      But Rebecca wasn’t feeling especially strong now. Her heart was thudding so hard that it felt like her ribcage might shatter under the pressure, but her mind was still disassociated, observing her own actions as if watching a character on TV.

      Of course she wasn’t actually going to go through with it. She was still just play-acting, getting an idea of how it would feel to approach Stephen’s home, to really be about to kill someone…

      Thud, thud, thud… Rebecca watched her own hand close around the door handle. Click. The door was unlocked, just as Stephen had promised. Silently, she let herself into the hall, starting as something came towards her through the darkness.

      For a split second, she froze, every muscle tensed, each nerve tingling. Then she relaxed, releasing the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. It was only Bwbach. The old dog, recognising her from previous visits, ambled forwards to greet her, tail wagging, delighted to have some company in the quiet of the night.

      As the dog nuzzled her hand, for a few seconds Rebecca stood motionless, listening for any noises from upstairs. Nothing.

      Softly, she edged down the hall, remembering all those other times she’d been there before with Stephen, barely managing to get through the front door before ripping one another’s clothes off, desire getting the better of caution in this Neighbourhood Watch community. How different it all felt tonight, alone in the unfamiliar darkness, an intruder rather than a guest.

      Creeping into the kitchen, she made her way to the knife block on the counter. Even though it was pitch black, she knew exactly where to find it, of course. She’d watched Stephen numerous times as he ran his fingers over the knife handles, weighing up which one to choose before pulling out the knife he’d want them to use in bed. This time too he’d made the selection for her, sending her a text with instructions to pick out the biggest knife, the one with the 8-inch blade they’d used so many times before during sex. The knife felt familiar as Rebecca held it loosely in her hand. Better the devil you know, and all that, she thought…

      Jaspal Marsh tossed fitfully in the double bed she shared with her husband. Though it was late, she just couldn’t sleep. That evening, she’d tried her best to relax, talking to a relative on the phone, vegging out on the sofa in front of Big Brother, but still she couldn’t shake off a vague sense of unease.

      It wasn’t to do with being alone in the house. Really, Stephen was out so much these days, she ought to be used to being on her own by now. And if the two of them were ever to split up, this was something she was going to have to accustom herself to.

      Thinking she might have heard something downstairs, Jaspal lay very still, listening intently. Then she relaxed as she recognised the rhythmic thud of Bwbach’s tail hitting the wall. The old dog must be dreaming of chasing rabbits or something. She’d been worried for a moment, though. Honestly, the next time Stephen told her to leave the door unlocked, she was just going to refuse. It just put her on edge and it wasn’t fair. Why should she be the one to lose sleep just because he was out enjoying himself? Next time she’d lock it and he could just sleep outside on the doorstep for all she cared.

      Thud, thud, thud! Rebecca’s heart sounded so loudly in her ears, she was sure Stephen’s wife would be able to hear it. She still couldn’t quite believe it was her, creeping up the stairs in someone else’s house, knife in hand. Surely it was a scene out of a low-budget horror film, not real life – certainly not her life. Soon, any second now, she’d wake up from whatever trance she was in and stop what she was doing, horrified at how far she’d gone. She imagined the relief of finding herself outside that house, not caught red-handed breaking into someone else’s home, not a potential murderess, just plain Rebecca Harris who’d almost let things get out of hand but had come to her senses just in time.

      All of a sudden, the mobile phone she’d been carrying along with the knife lit up. A message: from Stephen, of course.

      ‘Do it. Just do it!’ read the text.

      She had her instructions.

      This time Jaspal was sure there had been a noise but she didn’t have time to think about it before the door to the bedroom inched open. If she had been expecting a balaclava-clad burglar then she was very wrong. The person peering uncertainly into the dark bedroom was a young woman. She had something in her hand, something long and thin that glinted where it caught the shaft of moonlight seeping in through the drawn curtains.

      Jaspal knew she didn’t have much time. If she stayed where she was, she’d be attacked in bed. All she had going for her now was the element of surprise.

      ‘Aaaaaargh!’

      Jumping up from the bed, she flew at the intruder, screaming at the top of her lungs.

      Rebecca was terrified. She’d been expecting to find a sleeping victim, but instead here was this shrieking banshee tearing at her skin and clothes, pushing her backwards against the chest of drawers. Without pausing to think, she lunged forward with the knife, again and again and СКАЧАТЬ