There was only one solution – Jonny had to go.
When Keira joked about killing him that night, something clicked into place. I saw my opportunity. I bent forward, pretending to laugh as I tapped my phone to record. If I was clever, if I played it just right, I could build an alibi, kill Jonny and protect my future.
So on the night of the quiz, while the others thought I was battling morning sickness, I set my phone to play a recordingI’d made of me in the bathroom retching, and I slipped out. I’d already laced the biscuits I’d made with the sleeping pills I’d stolen from Tasha’s bag at the pub. I’d given them to Jonny as a peace offering just before I left for the school to help set up for the quiz, promising him I’d tell Alistair that weekend. One of the things I learned about Jonny in my time in his bed was what a sweet tooth he has, always wanting chocolate or treats. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist my biscuits. I was right. By the time I arrived and let myself in with the spare key, he was unconscious in bed.
The killing was…mechanical. Stab wounds, like Georgie said. Smearing blood on a yellow top I’d bought to look like Tasha’s. Then suffocation like I described. Enough to muddy the method, enough to echo what we’d talked about.
Even then, I’d hoped I wouldn’t need any of the evidence I collected. I’d hoped Jonny’s death would be considered an unsolved murder. But DS Sató wasn’t the bumbling detective I’d expected. She was diligent and determined. The news broke that she was close to an arrest. The police knew it was someone close to him. And even though I didn’t think it was me she suspected, the panic set in. I had to take control.
Starting with the WhatsApp group pretending to be Keira. I didn’t know how to set up disappearing messages that I could pre-load via a website. I didn’t know about using an AI voice to replicate Keira’s. But I did what I always do. I worked the problem. Found the solution.
Like planting the photo of Keira and Jonny and pretending to find it the night we searched his house. Keira was right. It was a fake. I scrolled through their oldest Facebook posts and found two photos I could use. The image was grainy. A terrible job if anyone cared to look hard enough. But just like how I trusted Jonny, just as Alistair trusted me – we see what we want to see.
I messaged Keira, pretending to be Georgie, and arranged the playdate. The calls to Alistair were fake that morning we confessed. He didn’t go to Keira’s house to find them. As far as Alistair was concerned, he was babysitting Lanie while the other children were safely playing at Keira’s house.
I created a misdirection with my friends, built on fear and loyalty and lies. I needed them to pull it off. That’s not to say it was easy. I was scared and stressed the entire time. Terrified of Georgie or Tasha looking too closely or second-guessing.
The runner was a nobody. A random man who commented in a local Facebook group that he runs home from work along Fordly Lane each night. I was always going to swerve. But I had to make it seem real so that when the scheduled message arrived telling us Keira had our children, Tasha and Georgie wouldn’t question it. Another way to muddy the investigation, to keep the fear pounding through us so we wouldn’t stop to think. If Keira could blackmail us into killing her ex, what would she do to our children…?
I meant what I said outside the café. I was certain if we all confessed to Jonny’s murder, none of us could be charged. The CPS would never approve a case for prosecution with multiple confessions. And even if they did, a jury would struggle to convict if more than one person said they were the killer.
That’s why I convinced the others to confess. Of course I knew Tasha would crack and tell Sató everything. And with the claim of four missing children, I knew the police would take it seriously. I had no idea how the final showdown would play out, but even I couldn’t have planned for it to work out so perfectly.
Poor Tasha.
She was released from police custody later that same day. But she’s since been charged with Jonny’s murder. She’s out on police bail, awaiting a trial date. Tasha, Marc and the girls moved out of Magnolia Close the day after we confessed. I heardthey lived with her parents for a few weeks, then all moved to the vineyard in Devon. A happy ending all round.
Almost.
I’m sure waiting for the court date and the trial hangs over her.
Perhaps she didn’t deserve this. But then…she didn’t deserve my friendship either. Not when she was already planning to leave our community. As it happened, I knew about Tasha leaving before she did. That was the other thing I learned about Jonny. Not only did he have a sweet tooth, but he liked to gossip after sex. When I was scrambling to collect my clothes and escape, he liked to talk. He told me about Marc’s redundancy and his secret plan to buy the vineyard in Devon and move away from Magnolia Close. I knew Tasha would be upset, but I knew she’d accept it eventually. She’s always been a follower.
Georgie leaving Magnolia Close was different. She’d have stayed if she could. That’s why I slipped the phone I’d used to pretend to be Keira into Tasha’s bag when I’d hugged her on that final day together, before we’d gone to the police station to confess.
Just like David and Mags – the couple who lived at number twelve before Tasha and Marc moved in. They wanted to invite people to join them for holidays at their new house in Spain. Everyone was so excited. But I knew if we kept in touch with people who moved away, it would dilute and fracture the community we had. It’s why I snuck out in the early hours of the morning and poured weedkiller on people’s lawns. Then gently reminded my neighbours of the dispute we’d had with David about the length of lawns in the close. He denied it, of course. But his lawn was the only one not damaged.
Lily and Kevin Gallagher wanted to stay in touch with everyone too. There was talk of them returning for the summer street party every year.
I glance at the small gold heart ornament that sits on the coffee table. It’s been hidden in a drawer for so long, but there’s no way Georgie or Tasha will pop over again and see what I stole from Georgie’s house on that New Year’s after the Gallaghers announced they were leaving. The second I heard the news, I knew I’d need to make sure it was a clean break. If they wanted to leave, they couldn’t stay friends. So I stole the ornament. I knew it was Lily’s favourite. She’d commented on it enough times that I knew she’d be blamed when I casually asked Georgie where it was after Lily left that night.
I caused the rift, allowing a clean break for all of us. I do feel for Tasha though. It wasn’t like I wanted her to have a murder charge hanging over her. I’m not so vindictive that I’d want someone to spend their life in prison just for leaving Magnolia Close. But DS Sató was relentless. The local news kept talking of breakthroughs and arrests being imminent. I needed a fall person, and Tasha was the most likely candidate. Not just because she decided she wanted out. But because, as she said all along, she had the biggest motive for wanting Jonny dead. Or she thought she did anyway.
I was wrong about the CPS not bringing charges when multiple people confess. DS Sató must have presented a strong case against Tasha. The phone in her bag. The motive. Her own father’s sleeping pills used to drug Jonny.
The case could all still fall apart before it gets to court. I hope it will. I hope Jonny’s death gets lost in the pile of unsolved cases and Tasha can get on with her life, and so can our little community.
That’s the problem with people when they say they’re going to leave Magnolia Close. They forget our community is special. We rely on each other. You don’t just get to walk away from that.
And now with the new residents at number twelve, our community is complete again. It’s perfect in fact. The perfect home. The perfect family.
I did what I had to do to get here. Even murder.
I did it.
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