She tutted and shook her head. “Oh, no, they deserve to see.”
I pointed at Ollie. “He never even met Rabbie. He doesn’t know what’s going on! Trust me, I’d quite enjoy him to suffer, but not like this.”
She shook her head again. “Arden, sweet silly Arden. You remind me a bit of my Rabbie, you know. He was trusting as well. But no, your Oliver is nowhere near as innocent in this as he’s made you think.” She smiled sweetly as my insides turned to ice. Ollie stared at theground; a tear fell down his cheek and onto Nigella’s plaster-dust-covered table.
“What did you do?” I could barely ask.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never thought it— I didn’t know she was insane. I thought it’d help me get you back. I …” His voice choked.
“You knew who S Murray was the entire time?” Simon barked.
He nodded. “I’m sorry. She invited me to a meeting in Bristol. Pretended to be someone else. Told me if I helped her, she’d convince you to take me back. Otherwise, she’d tell you all about Jamie.”
“And the letter?” I asked.
“Oh – no, that was me being sneaky,” she said. “I gave that to Riz as insurance. If anything happened to me, he was to put it in the police’s hands. Oliver knew nothing of that. He did what he was told, so I never needed to use it.”
I nodded. Well. That settled that then. I turned to Katrina. “I’m ready. Where should we do this? Outside? I wouldn’t want to get my brains all over Nigella’s kitchen. Think of her kids. They’ll be home from school soon.”
Katrina nodded. “Very thoughtful. Outside it is then. You three watch.”
She stood, and I followed. As I rose, Simon gripped my hand. Katrina looked pleased with this. He held my hand, his eyes boring into me.
I touched his stubbly cheek and tried to shake my hand free. “It’s all going to be okay. Remember, the last time something like this happened? Kennedy burst into the room and knocked over Neuberger? Just remember that.” He gripped my hand but eventually let go.
“Guy,” I said, giving him a nod. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Ollie.
“Let’s make a start, shall we?” Katrina said filing us out. “Gents, you can stay seated, or stand and watch.Except you, Simon. You really must stand at the door. You need to see.”
We walked up the short path through the wreckage of Nigella’s house and stood in the middle of the garden.
It was scorching hot. The sunshine was blinding. “Nice day for it,” she said, loading her gun.
“Quite. You said you burnt every scrap of your old life, that’s why there was no trail?”
“Yes. Doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll hand myself over as soon as this is done.”
“So … you don’t have any photos of Rabbie?” I asked.
She shook her head. “A painful sacrifice. But the only one I have is the one I showed you.”
“Oh.”
“Right.” She cocked the gun. “Eyes open, please, you need to see it, but aside from that, your choice of pose.”
C’mon, c’mon, please. Where were the police?
Please, please, someone protect me. There was no help coming. No one was rushing to save me. My heart was in my mouth. There would be no flashes of inspiration this time. Katrina was not Tarquin with his bumbling attempts to cover up his crimes. No, she wanted me dead and all the world to see.
Nausea rode over me in waves. I fell to my knees. “Katrina, don’t do this,” I sobbed. Snot and tears rolling down my face. “Please, I never even met Rabbie, I barely know these people. I’ve only lived here a few months. Please, please!”
She looked at me sympathetically. She swung the gun up.
Death. I was going to die. I tried to stop the sobs that were ripping my chest open. But I couldn’t. If you’ve ever thought you’d be calm and dignified in the face of your executioner, I can tell you now – you won’t be. “Do you want me to beg?” I screamed, my voice breaking. “I’ll beg, please! I don’t want to die!”
“Aw, Arden. No one does.”
“I’m only thirty-two. My life’s a mess. I want to … please, don’t kill me. I want to meet someone and have a family and grow old together,” I begged. “Please!”
