I think for a moment, tilting my head to one side, biting my bottom lip. ‘I’d stab him,’ I reply. ‘Right in the gut. Three times. One for each of us,’ I add, shooting a look to Tasha and Beth.
There is no shock at my words. No laughter. My friends know I mean it. Those lecherous looks he gives us all. The winks. The comments, especially to me.
‘That husband of yours is one hell of a lucky man, Georgie.’
‘That workout kit should be illegal.’
‘You’ll give a man a heart attack wearing that.’
‘Looking gorgeous today, Georgie.’
Tasha and Beth know I hate Jonny as much as they do. Even if they don’t know all the reasons why.
Keira looks to Tasha next. ‘What about you, Tasha? Would you kill your neighbour?’
Tasha swirls her wine, staring at the legs around the inside of the glass before replying. ‘Yes. But stabbing is too risky,’ she says. ‘What if he overpowered you?’ she asks me.
‘I’d sneak up on him,’ I reply. ‘Bill and Jean have a key to Jonny’s house from when the Gallaghers used to live there. I’ve got a key to Bill and Jean’s. I’d pop into theirs when they were out, get the key, then sneak into Jonny’s and bam!’
‘Poison would be easier,’ Beth says in a soft voice. ‘Something in his coffee machine or his milk.’
It’s my turn to shake my head. This is fun. This is real friendship – laying our fantasies bare.
‘Too much risk of collateral damage,’ I say, ticking off the issues on my fingers. ‘What if the cleaner eats some, or a guest? Or some poor delivery guy who accepts a coffee? I couldn’t live with myself.’
Keira looks thoughtful, and for a moment it’s like we’re actually planning this. The thought sends a giddy thrill shooting through my veins along with the wine.
‘You’re right,’ Keira says. ‘No poison. It’s not just the collateral damage. There’s too much risk he’d survive. But Tasha is right. Men are stronger than us. It’s a fact, and there’s no point pretending otherwise. Stabbing is too risky.’
Tasha nods. ‘I would use sleeping pills,’ she says, rifling through her bag and pulling out a box. ‘These are my dad’s prescription tablets. They’d knock Jonny out so he couldn’t overpower me. And then—’ She makes a vague stabbing motion that has me grinning.
‘What about you, Beth?’ Keira asks. ‘If poison’s off the table?’
I’m surprised Beth is joining in, rather than shaking her head and staying quiet like always, but she’s as caught up in this as the rest of us. ‘Stabbing is messy,’ she says. ‘Suffocation would be better. A pillow over his face while he’s knocked out from the pills,’ she says, nodding to Tasha’s bag.
That’s Beth. Always wanting things neat and tidy.
Keira claps her hands, her grin wider than ever. ‘Yes. That’s perfect,’ she says, leaning forward and placing her palms flat on the table. ‘So you’ll slip him some food laced with sleeping tablets. Wait a bit. Then go in and kill him. Either stabbing,’ she says, gesturing to me and Tasha. ‘Or suffocation. Or both.’ She laughs. ‘And it gives you a window.’
‘What window?’ Tasha asks, a hiccupped giggle slipping free.
‘A window of time when the murder happens. That’s when you need to make sure you all have an alibi,’ she replies.
A bubble of laughter threatens to spill. ‘But if we have an alibi…how do we actually kill him?’ I ask.
Keira’s voice is still low as she flicks a glance to the near-empty pub before looking back to us. ‘You’d be each other’salibis,’ she explains. ‘You lie to the police. You lie to everyone except each other.’
There’s a pause. A breath where it feels like the air shifts.
‘You could murder Jonny next week, during the PTA quiz night,’ Keira continues. ‘It’s perfect! Those things are always wine-fuelled chaos. One of you could slip out and kill Jonny. Then all three of you swear you were with each other all night.’
Tasha’s wine glass hovers halfway to her lips. The air is sparking with something dangerous. It’s just a game – a bit of fun. And yet the mention of the quiz night makes it feel suddenly real, and I’m no longer sure if I should laugh.
My heart pounds like I’m about to sprint into something unknown, something dangerous, and, secretly, I love it. My life is bright and wonderful. I have my gorgeous Oscar and my husband, Nate, and Magnolia Close and my part-time job, and Tasha and Beth. I keep busy and I keep fit, and one day soon my Instagram Mum Mindfulness account will go viral and I’ll be a proper influencer. I already have over ten thousand followers. Just one perfect post and everyone will see that I’m someone. But the waiting and trying can drag me down sometimes, pull me too close to the mundane. Nights like this, shaking things up – having fun – feel like fuel. Like pure energy.
Tasha exhales in a breathless laugh. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘That’s because it is,’ Keira replies with a shrug. ‘You’ve got a plan for how you’d do it. You make sure he consumes the sleeping pills before you get there. Then you’ve got a window during the PTA quiz where there’d be lots of witnesses who won’t notice one of you slip away for half an hour. You’ve got each other to be alibis too. There’s just one really important thing to remember.’
