It’s a dangerous call, whether to impart this piece of information to her or not, though deep down I’m certain it’s true. It could cause her to want to finish the job off properly, but I make that call anyway. ‘That little girl you told me you weren’t sure if you remembered, the one from your childhood, when you were just five or six years old, the one who came to stay over at your house, with you and your mum and Ray, once or twice…’
Now she looks stunned, confused. She blinks at me, her brow fixed in disbelief.
‘Ray Denis’sdaughter?’
I nod, the adrenalin rushing through me is restricting my larynx, making it harder for me to talk, to breathe.
‘I don’t believe it.’ Erin is shaking her head adamantly. ‘Every damn word that comes out of that maniac’s mouth is a lie.’
‘It’s not a lie, Erin.’ I meet her eyes with my own. ‘I’m not lying to you, I promise.’
She exhales in quick succession. ‘So, so… itwasall personal then? This was to do withmymother?Herfather?’
I can feel Tilly squirming underneath me as I apply more pressure on the wound. She’s trying to say something.
‘She… she took my… job.’ Her voice is a low rasp as she struggles to expel the words from her discolouring lips. ‘She… she took my father, and then she took my job…’
‘Herjob?’ Erin scoffs. ‘The job at Austin Marz, you mean, the receptionist job? Jesus, how much of a psychopath are you,Julie? Ajob!’
‘If my dad had never met your whore of a mother…’ Tilly’s trying to sit up now, but I won’t let her. I place a firm hand on her shoulder.
‘Just stay where you are,’ I say, ‘help’s on the way.’
‘Your mother, that… bitch… she ruined his life, ruined mine. If he hadn’t gone to prison…’ – she coughs, her breathing sounds laboured – ‘… he’d never have killed himself and my mother would never have become an alcoholic… AndI’dnever have spent my childhood in and out of care homes… I was abused, thrown away like trash.’
Erin starts clapping her hands together in a slow round of applause.
‘Bravo, Samantha, sorry I mean,Julie… a consummate professional to the end! You’ve got to admit,’– she turns to me, dips her head as though appraising a particularly good performance – ‘she’s pretty great, isn’t she? So veryconvincing.’
I can hear the unmistakable sound of sirens screaming in the distance and only hope, pray, they’re heading this way. Erin hears them too, because she stands. Picks up the gun.
‘Listen, Erin. I really don’t want you to do anything stupid.’ Which sounds stupid itself, given the immediate circumstances we find ourselves in. ‘I don’t want you to harm anyone else, andabove all, Ireallydon’t want you to harm yourself. Promise me you won’t do that, Erin.’
Her lovely green eyes are heavy with sadness as they rest upon me, like she’s touched that anyone even cares.
‘Despite everything, Dan, in spite of the circumstances of how we have come to meet, I’m so very glad that we did, and that we have.’ She smiles back at me, genuinely. ‘You’re even nicer in the flesh than I’d expected.’
‘Don’t let Malcolm hear you say that,’ I reply, with a gentle smile of my own. ‘Look, it doesn’t have to be like this, Erin. I can help you sort through all of this mess. I’ll tell everyone the truth, I’ll make them understand. Just put the gun away and…’
Tilly is attempting to drag herself along the floor, towards the door. I reach out, try to pull her back by her legs. If she keeps moving, then at this rate, she’ll bleed out, if Erin doesn’t finish her off first.
‘Let me get something to stem the flow. Stay where you are, Dan. I’m going to go to the bathroom to get a towel. Please,’ she says, ‘don’t try anything stupid yourself, just sit here until I come back, OK, don’t move.’
I look at the gun, still in her hand and nod. Maybe she doesn’t want her dead after all.
‘OK, Erin.’
The second she leaves the room, I frantically scan the apartment for a phone. The sirens are getting louder now, closer. They’re almost here, literally less than a minute away. My trained ear tells me so.
‘Just hang on in there,’ I say to Julie as she continues to groan and worm away from me, the blood that’s pumping from her wound leaving a heavy burgundy paint trail on the laminate floor beneath her.
‘Hello! Hello! Is everything OK in there?’ Suddenly, I hear an unfamiliar voice, it’s coming from behind the front door. ‘It’sYinka, your neighbour from Number 68… the police are on their way. Is everyone OK?What’s going on?’
Seconds later, I hear another voice, one I have no trouble instantly recognising.
She walks through into the apartment, her mouth falling open with each step she takes.
‘What the… Oh. My. God!’
