Killing Kate. Alex Lake

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       18

      Gemma gestured around the pub.

      ‘It’s so weird,’ she said. ‘Look. This place is full of people talking, drinking, falling in love. There are probably people meeting each other tonight who’ll get married. Others are having affairs. It’s full of life and warmth and fun …’ She paused and leaned forward. ‘And any one of these people could be a serial killer. It makes you think, doesn’t it?’

      ‘It makes me sick,’ Kate said.

      ‘I mean, it could be anyone,’ Gemma said. ‘It doesn’t have to be some oddball loner. It could be someone’s husband, or father, or a teacher or a judge. You have no way of knowing.’

      That was the reason serial killers were so fascinating, Kate thought. An ordinary killer – if there was such a thing – was easily explained, banal almost. It was a matter of normal emotions or situations that got out of hand. Someone screwed his wife and a husband got jealous; a robbery went wrong; a brother wanted all of an inheritance to himself. Grubby human life, writ large: jealousy, lust, greed.

      And then there was gangland stuff, revenge killings, assassinations. That was more interesting, but it was a different world. It didn’t spill over into most people’s lives.

      Not so with a serial killer. They were there, amongst us, monsters in our midst, hidden in plain sight. They were one of us, but also separate, and we could be their next victim. It was both terrifying and utterly compelling.

      ‘It might be him,’ Gemma said, pointing to a tall man with long, wavy red hair who was drinking alone at the bar. ‘Maybe he’s angry at the world for teasing him about his hair colour.’

      Kate knew that her friend was joking, but she felt suddenly uneasy. It really was the case that one of these people could have killed Jenna Taylor and Audra Collins, and the thought made her want to get out of there.

      ‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a bottle of wine at home – Phil brought it round the day we got back from holiday – we can drink that.’

      Gemma shrugged. ‘Sounds good to me.’

      ‘So what are you going to do?’ Gemma said. ‘Are you looking for a new boyfriend?’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ Kate said. She sipped her wine, then balanced the glass on the arm of the couch. ‘I don’t want anything serious. Maybe date a bit. Meet some people. See what happens. But I don’t want to go straight into another relationship. I’ve been with Phil for over ten years.’ She shook her head. ‘More than a decade. It’s hard to believe. It’ll be nice to be single for a while.’

      ‘Do you miss him?’

      ‘Yeah. Sometimes a lot, but that’s inevitable, I think. The weird thing is that sometimes I don’t miss him at all. I feel the opposite: I’m glad we broke up. I feel almost like I had a narrow escape, like I was blindly following a path without ever considering any other options. I could have been making a terrible mistake without even knowing it. At least now I’ll find out.’

      ‘And you can always go back to him.’

      ‘You know, that’s what I thought, but I don’t think I would. It’s strange: I can hardly picture us together now.’

      ‘It’s funny how that happens,’ Gemma said. ‘My mum and dad were together for twenty-five years before they got separated. For a month or so I hoped they’d get back together, but pretty soon it was obvious that they wouldn’t. They were so different. I stopped wondering whether they’d get back together and started wondering how they’d ever got together in the first place.’

      ‘That’s kind of how I feel.’

      Gemma grinned. ‘Then it looks like you are ready to start dating,’ she said. ‘You should try an Internet dating site. Let’s set up a profile.’

      ‘No. I don’t need that right now.’

      ‘Why not? It can’t do any harm. You can check it out, then, when the time comes, you’ll know what to do. And you don’t have to accept any invitations. Come on. It’ll be fun.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ Kate said.

      ‘What’s the harm? And you never know, you might meet your dream man. A sensitive, caring dolphin trainer. Or a rugged fireman.’

      ‘I doubt it.’

      ‘Then find out. And I won’t take no for an answer.’

      She wouldn’t. Gemma was, if nothing else, persistent. They had all learned over the years that once she had an idea she would never give it up. It was why they had ended up stuck in the snow on Snake Pass one New Year’s Eve: Gemma had heard that there was some nightclub in Sheffield that they absolutely had