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‘Anyway, he’s not my lover. I’ve told him it’s over.’

Kathryn.

I can remember clearly the moment I thought I should kill Kathryn. Things like that tend to stick in your mind. It was a Friday, the day before her birthday party. She’d taken the day off and I’d agreed to take a break from my writing so we could spend most of the day together. We were reading bits of the paper over breakfast, occasionally discussing an article or an opinion, pinching remnants of a shared croissant and some toast from each other’s plates when a text message came through on her phone. She’d been sitting on one of the high stools around the breakfast bar and turned to look at me. To this day, I can still visualise the shocked and frightened expression on her face - ashen, made more noticeable by the absence of any make up and without a spec of colour. I had never seen her look so pale, almost ghostly, as though someone had died.
     ‘My phone, Guy? Where is it?’ Kathryn was standing up, pushing the papers around in a wild and anxious manner, feeling everywhere for the device. She turned to face me. I was looking at a stranger - demented and torn.
     ‘Where the hell is the bloody thing?’ she yelled.
     Kathryn was a warm outward type of person, not one for having secrets and always wanting to talk about things; whereas I was more inward and happy with my own company - a trait, Kathryn had told me, she found attractive. ‘You always listen when I want to offload something, my sweet,’ she’d said once after we’d drunk a bottle of wine while she’d told me how difficult Leonard had been at work that day. In contrast, on that particular Friday morning her actions were bizarre, completely out of character, verging on hostile.
     ‘I don’t know, but calm down. It’s here somewhere.’ I started to sift through the pile of bills and unopened letters in the corner of the room in case it was buried beneath them.
     ‘What’s the big deal anyway? It’s only a phone. When did you last use it?’
     Kathryn shot me a glance, her blue eyes, normally so bright and radiant, seemed full of fear and hatred. ‘Guy, I don’t fucking know, do I?’ 
     ‘Hey. What the hells up?’ I touched her hand. She immediately withdrew, pulled the tie of her wrap around her waist, turned away and started to run down the hall wearing nothing on her feet. I watched as she neared the front door, flung it open and raced out to her car, parked on the forecourt.
     ‘Kathryn. It’s not out there; it’s somewhere in the house, probably here in the kitchen.’ I thought she was crazy. The text had sounded close to where we’d been sitting. What the hell was she doing running to her car?  
     At the time, I had no idea what caused Kathryn’s sudden unexplainable behaviour; clearly it was something serious and at odds with our earlier actions together.  We’d woken at eight-thirty, made love and, over a shared bath, discussed the day. We agreed to do some shopping, have a late lunch in Kathryn’s favourite restaurant and then split up. She was due to meet her father later at Heathrow and take him to her sister’s where the three of them would spend the night. I was going to pick up something for my supper, watch the rugby and then write another chapter of my book.
     Looking back, I believe the next few minutes changed my life forever. If they hadn’t happened as they did, I guess I wouldn’t be telling this story. From the far end of the breakfast bar, tucked behind the fruit bowl, Kathryn’s phone flashed and bleeped to indicate another message. It had been hidden by the discarded sections of the newspaper, piled up by Kathryn on top of it. I reached forward to pick it up, unfamiliar with its keypad and layout, and mistakenly pressed the wrong key. The large screen flashed into life. I couldn’t fail to read the message:
     HI HON. COME AS EARLY AS YOU CAN TONIGHT. WE HAVE THE APARTMENT TO OURSELVES. CAN’T WAIT. XXX LEONARD
     That was the moment when all rational thought left me. I tossed the phone into the fruit bowl and charged out of the kitchen, pushing Kathryn aside as she returned from her car, and raced upstairs, pulling on the first items of clothing I could find. I ran back downstairs, grabbed a jacket, my keys, wallet and my phone and headed for my car. I turned on the engine, reversed into the main road without checking for other cars or pedestrians and drove off at speed. The traffic lights were green and I turned carelessly into Hammersmith Grove. I was incensed, enraged and thought only of how she had cheated on me yet again after all she’d said. I pulled in at the bottom of Hammersmith Grove to a car park on the left I sometimes use when I take the tube into the West End. I walked to Starbucks, ordering with little thought a double espresso and took it to an empty seat.
     ‘She’s fucking lied and deceived to me. The bitch.’ I whispered as I waited for my drink to cool. What the hell was last night all about? The fucking shit. I gave her a birthday present, we watched a movie together and went to bed and shagged like we did this morning. She told me she loved me. God, she’s acting like a deceitful bloody whore.
     I was seething with rage. I didn’t notice the taste of the coffee, the man shuffling into the seat next to me. ‘Excuse me, are you reading that?’ he’d asked with his hand on the unopened Times on the table. ‘I just want to check what time Chelsea are playing tomorrow. Do you know?’
     I must have looked at him as though he’d asked me the answer to a rare maths formula or something similarly bewildering. ‘I’m sorry,’ I answered. ‘I don’t know. Go ahead.’ I pushed the paper in his direction and returned to my state of intense anger. Ignoring the pouring rain, I turned up the collar of my jacket, walked out of Starbucks and headed towards the Hammersmith roundabout, turning left up Shepherd’s Bush Road. I had no plan, just wanted to walk.
     
     I’d known about Kathryn’s previous affair with Leonard. It had happened before I met her. She’d told me all about it after we’d slept together for the first time. Apparently he was bisexual. She’d caught him sleeping with a man in their apartment and walked out on him. She’d been Leonard’s PA at the time and because of her loyalty continued to work for him after they’d split.
     Leonard came across as a flamboyant, social sort; gregarious and always the centre of attention. When I first met him, I didn’t really know what he did, believing he owned some sort of import and export business based in Pimlico. From what Kathryn had told me, they imported clothing, mobile phones and computers from Asia and exported various prestige British products to anyone who’d buy them. Kathryn’s sister, Jeni, worked for Leonard as the office manager-cum-secretary and Joe, a tough looking ex-footballer, was always at Leonard’s side. Kathryn, Jeni and Joe were the only people he employed.  Ironically it was Leonard who introduced me to Kathryn. I was skint at the time and had gone to his office to pick up a cheap laptop. He asked Kathryn to handle the transaction. I thought she was stunning and cheekily asked her out. She accepted, and three months later we were married.
      She’d told me she’d met Leonard in a night club when she was twenty-five and started going out with him almost immediately, eventually moving in with him until the incident with the man some five years ago. Kathryn introduced me to Joe and Jeni, who at that time were a couple. They split up a little later but remained on good terms. The five of us used to hang out together most of the time and often would spend Christmas at Leonard’s large house in the Caribbean. I was in love with Kathryn, who is three years younger than me, and thought we’d be together forever. That is until her last affair.
     She’d gone away with Leonard to India on a trip, supposedly to tie up the loose ends of a multi-million clothing deal. After she’d returned, Amrish Puri, the owner of the Indian company they’d traded with, mistakenly addressed an email intended for Kathryn to me. His message was clear. He wanted Kathryn to leave me and fly to India to spend the rest of her life with him. I told her to go and get out of my life. But she wouldn’t have it; tearfully apologising and saying how wrong she’d been.
     ‘It was only a stupid fling,’ she’d said, ‘I regretted it as soon as I returned from India. I’ve already emailed Amrish to end it.’
     His reply was the email I’d read. I was angry and told her I didn’t believe her, but she pleaded with me, promising she’d never, ever do anything like it again. She told me she loved me. I knew I loved her and gave in, pleased to have her back.
     
     By the time I reached the intersection of Brook Green and Shepherd’s Bush Road, absolute revenge had become my overwhelming priority. Of course we’d divorce, there was no alternative, but I didn’t know how I could face the painful, protracted process. I just wanted to get Kathryn out of my life forever and punish Leonard - the bastard. Consumed by irrational thoughts, hot-headed and impulsive, I could only think of one solution. I should kill her and dispose of the body.
     It wasn’t until I turned into Brook Green that I realised it had been raining all morning. I was soaked; the bottoms of my jeans were wet and floppy and the flimsy Converse sneakers I was wearing felt soggy and saturated. I’d stopped to look up at the large mansion block on the corner, remembering happier times. Leonard had owned a flat there and let Kathryn and I live in it, rent free, for the first three months of our marriage. God, we were wild. We used to come home from work, strip off and make love in a different room in the flat every night until we’d done it in every one. Then we’d start all over again.
     As I thought back to those moments, I became more convinced that there was no turning back in my intentions. The thought of Kathryn having any sort of life after what she’d done made me irate and more irrational, wanting to dash back to our house and kill her immediately in the most violent way I could. My damp and uncomfortable state brought me to my senses. I realised I couldn’t rush into it and might even have to meet up with her again for a brief time. I wondered how I would face her.

It was nearly 4 p.m. when I drew up outside our house in Goldhawk Road. Over the years Kathryn and I had lived there, I’d personally worked on every room: renovating, decorating and repairing each one to return the house close to its original condition. As I walked up the three steps to the front door, I didn’t feel any attachment to the house at all. I wanted to do the deed and get away. I’d left the gun I’d bought earlier in the car’s boot, together with the large roll of plastic sheeting, the trunk, the lead weights and the waterproof tape. They would all stay there until I needed them.
     Kathryn was waiting at the front door, holding it open. I glanced at her quickly. She looked distraught. I turned away and walked past her down to the large kitchen in the basement. She didn’t try to say anything, just quietly followed me. We both went to opposite ends of the room and turned to face each other. I didn’t attempt to say a thing. I just looked at her. I felt cold within.
     She started to cry. ‘Guy, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I do love you, I really…’ She didn’t finish, bursting into a seemingly heartfelt, uncontrollable bout of sobbing and crying. I watched, unmoved.
     ‘I do understand if you don’t want to say anything,’ she bleated. ‘I’m so wrong. Can I make you a tea?’
     I shook my head.
     ‘A large whisky, Guy?’
     ‘No, nothing.’ I started to turn to go upstairs. I wanted to change. My clothing was still sodden from the morning’s downpour.
     ‘Guy, please talk to me. I want to know how we stand. I mean, if you want a divorce, I understand; but I don’t want one. I want to stay with you.’
     I turned back to face her head-on. For someone who was so beautiful, she looked completely wrecked. ‘You said you’d understand if I didn’t want to talk. Well I don’t. I want to go and change. I feel wet, tired and fucking fed up. Understand?’ I had raised my voice. ‘You’re going to see your lover. I want to shower, have some food and watch some TV.’
     The look on Kathryn’s sad, expressionless face changed. Clearly, she thought I was deranged.
     ‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to talk about it. Just carry on as though nothing’s happened.’
     I took a pace nearer and shot out my finger, pointing it at her. ‘Look. I’m the aggrieved party. You’ve been sleeping with Leonard behind my back. I’m entitled to do whatever I want, and right now, I just want some space. I’ll sleep in one of the other rooms tonight.’ I noticed a quivering of Kathryn’s lips. She was about to start crying again. ‘Don’t forget.’ I paused and looked directly into her eyes. Tears were rolling down her face. ‘Don’t forget your lover is throwing a birthday party for you tomorrow.’
     She stopped crying and bit her bottom lip. ‘You still want to go?’ She looked bewildered and broken. ‘Anyway, he’s not my lover. I’ve told him it’s over.’
     ‘Oh, big fucking deal. Shag him as an alternative to me and when I find out; tell me it’s over, until the next time. What do you take me for, Kathryn? An easy fucking touch? I haven’t forgotten what you said last time.’
     I stood up, looking straight at her. ‘And yes. We do have to go tomorrow. You know why?’ I was bluffing. I didn’t know why we had to go; just that it was part of my plan.
     Kathryn burst into tears again. Her sobbing was the loudest it had been. ‘That’s out of order, Guy,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool. I’ll do whatever you want. I love you. Can we talk? Please, please.’
     ~
     We left the birthday party Leonard had thrown for Kathryn the following night at one-thirty in the morning. He saw us to the car.
     ‘See you Monday,’ he said, holding the passenger door, waiting for Kathryn to get comfortable. He didn’t attempt to kiss her on the cheek, as he would do normally. No doubt, in the circumstances, they’d decided to keep their distance. I hadn’t noticed them talking much all evening, just a little at the beginning when we first arrived. Leonard came round to my side of the car.
     ‘Good to see you, Guy. Hope the book goes well. How much more have you got to write?’
     ‘I’m about halfway. I guess I’ll have it finished by June, when we go away.’ I looked up at him. I stared into his big deceitful eyes and realised how much I despised him. Soon I’ll have my revenge, I thought as I touched the control that raised the window.
     ‘Have a good day tomorrow,’ he replied as the side window of the car started to close.
     ‘Bye, Leonard. Thanks again.’ I gave him a little wave and steered the car away from the space in front of his apartment. He lived in a new luxury block in Chelsea Harbour.
     In silence, I gently negotiated the car out of the harbour complex until we came to the Embankment. I was aware I’d drunk a little over the legal driving limit and had to be careful. I turned left, concentrating on my driving. After a bit I stretched out my left hand and touched the audio system.  A song I played often started up.
     ‘That’s nice, Guy.’
     I guessed Kathryn was referring to my choice of music. It had been my intention to play something I knew she liked; it would take her mind off too much conversation. I felt her hand move slowly up and down my thigh. ‘Are we OK?’ she asked.
     I didn’t reply, pleased that my pretence of chatting normally to her at the party and even embracing her once or twice when we danced had worked. I noticed the fluttering of snow on the windscreen and was pleased. The night would be cold. There’d be few people to worry about.
     ‘Guy?’ Kathryn squeezed my leg. ‘Are we OK?’
     I’d come to the junction of Warwick Road and Cromwell Road. I turned left towards the A4 and realised I’d have to say something. Kathryn was trying to get a commitment from me. She wanted to know about our future. The snow was beginning to fall in big heavy drops, building up thick white wedges where the windscreen wipers finished their sweep. I turned up their speed by a couple of notches.
     ‘I guess I’ll give it a try,’ I answered, hoping that would do for the moment.
     I lied. I could have lied more and been really convincing, but I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to say the minimum, enough to keep her quiet, to allow me to think clearly about what I was going to do.
     I had loaded the gun before we left Goldhawk Road. I’d unrolled the polythene sheeting, opened the trunk, put the weights in the bottom and laid out several lengths of rope to tie up her body. All was set.
     My God, I thought, looking at the weather. The snow was beginning to build up in drifts on the edges of the road where vehicles hadn’t been driven. The visibility was becoming poor.
     ‘Guy?’ Kathryn sounded worried.
     ‘Yes.’ I gave her a quick glance and a smile.
     ‘Why have you gone past our turning?’
     ‘I thought we’d go for a drive.’ I turned and smiled again and put my foot down on the accelerator peddle.
     ‘What do you mean?’
     I gave her a quick glance. She’d withdrawn her hand from my thigh and seemed frightened.
      ‘It’s such a cold, crisp night; I thought it would be fun to drive a bit.’ I put my foot down and felt the car surge forward.
     ‘But it’s snowing heavily, Guy.’ Kathryn had begun to shout. Her voice sounded high-pitched, her words spoken quickly and in gasps. ‘I can’t really see out of the window. It’s dangerous. Guy, you’re really driving fast.’
     I reached to turn up the volume of the music and said, ‘Don’t worry. I’m OK. I’ve driven a lot in bad weather.’
     We were close to Chiswick Bridge. There was a place I knew where I’d been many times to watch the boat race finish. It had a slipway that ran down to the river. I could take the car right up to it, slide the trunk out of the boot, give it a push and watch it float down into the dark waters and to the bottom of the murky Thames. It would soon sink into the mud and sludge and become completely covered and hidden by the morning.
     I slowed down and moved into the inside lane.
     ‘Guy, where’re you going?’ Kathryn sounded alarmed. I couldn’t drag it out. I had to be quick.
     ‘To a quiet spot by the river. I thought it’d be peaceful and romantic to have a gentle stroll in the snow.’ I turned the wheel sharply to the left.
     The blinding headlights of an oncoming car flashed in my face. A horn sounded, Kathryn screamed. There was a loud bang followed by a terrifying sound of smashing glass and metal that seemed to go on forever. The car turned over and over. Kathryn was yelling her head off. I remember a second big bang, followed by pain; pain that I’d never felt before; pain that started in my head and seemed to work down every part of my body. Then it all seemed to go dark and hazy. I couldn’t see anything. My face seemed wet, almost warm in the intense cold that was everywhere. It was all so quiet.

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