Last Kiss



I ARRIVE IN Greystones before Edgar. I’m too fearful to park on the street and wait there alone, so I drive down to the seafront. It’s sunny. There are plenty of people about, but instead of feeling safer with others around, I start thinking she could be anywhere among them.

The car is fogging up, but I daren’t open a window. I’ve no intention of risking anything until I meet Edgar. It’s then that his text comes in, saying he’ll be twenty minutes late: the police had wanted to talk to him. Edgar says he’s taken care of everything. But what does he mean by that? I think about how odd he has been lately. I’m not the only one who has been showing signs of pressure.

I wish I was a smoker. If I was, I would be lighting up now, and as I’m thinking this, I wonder why Alice never phoned after she didn’t turn up at the studio. Before I know it, I hear my phone ring. Then, ‘Hi, Sandra.’

‘You never came to the house the other day.’

‘I did. I couldn’t get an answer.’

‘Alice, I’ve found out the truth.’

‘About what?’

‘About Edgar and this other woman – I’ve proof he’s having an affair and …’ The rest of the words won’t come out.

‘And what?’

‘The woman,’ I’m stammering, ‘she’s dangerous.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She broke into our home. She left messages for me, wrote stuff in my diary and now—’ I choke up again.

‘Sandra, take it easy.’

‘The police have interviewed Edgar. They called to the house earlier.’

‘Why? What do they want?’ Her voice is agitated now.

‘They wanted to know about Pierre. You remember him, don’t you?’

‘That was a long time ago.’

‘I know it was, but now someone else has been killed, a guy called Rick Shevlin. The police think the two killings are linked. I’ve warned Edgar. I told him the woman he’s seeing could be the killer. His life might be in danger.’

‘Have you told the police all this?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to talk to Edgar first. There’s more to this than I can work out. He’s on his way to see me now. He’s told me not to worry, that he’s taken care of everything, but he could be saying that to keep me from being scared.’

‘Sandra,’ her voice is stern, ‘I want you to listen to me.’

They’re the same words Edgar used earlier on. Everyone is asking me to listen to them, like I’m not capable of functioning on my own merits. Then the voice inside my head says, You rang her, stupid, and you don’t trust her. She didn’t help the other day. She didn’t bother phoning you to see if you were okay. For all you know she could be lying about calling over to the house. Maybe she never came.

‘Sandra, are you still there?’

The car feels suffocating. I want to hang up, but instead I say, ‘Yes, I’m still here.’ I open the driver’s window to get air. I can hear a woman calling her dog, some teenagers passing by, chatting loudly, and music blaring from a car parked nearby. It all sounds loud and fast.

‘Where are you?’ she asks.

‘I’m in Greystones, down by the seafront.’

‘Stay there, Sandra. I can be there in fifteen minutes.’

‘I can’t, Alice. I’ve got to go. I’ve got to see Edgar.’

I hang up the phone, turning it off in case she tries to call back. I tell myself it’s all going to be okay, as I hear the waves crashing in. I roll up the window, put my seatbelt on and drive to the street where I’m supposed to meet Edgar. As I turn the corner, I see his car parked at the top. I take the first space I can find. I see him getting out of the car, walking towards me. It’s only then that I unlock the doors and step out onto the street. I pass a middle-aged man with his two terriers. He smiles as he gets closer, lifting his hand to wave at me.

‘How are you? It’s been a while,’ he says, with a wide smile.

God, maybe I look like her. Men do that all the time, falling for similar features in a woman.

‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘You must be mistaken.’

He stares at me, then says, ‘Here’s Edgar now,’ waving at him too. ‘I’d better get on.’ He’s practically chirping, and then, looking down at his dogs, he starts to laugh. ‘These monsters are dangerous if they don’t get their exercise.’

‘Sandra,’ Edgar says, when the man passes, ‘are you all right?’

‘What’s going on? Why does that man think he knows me?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘But I …’

‘It’s okay. I told you I’d explain everything.’

He takes me by the arm, walking me in the direction of the house. I pull back. ‘I can’t go in there, Edgar. I told you, I can’t.’

He looks at me in the sympathetic way someone might look at a foolish child.

‘Sandra,’ he says, ‘it’s all going to be okay, I promise you.’