‘I know, love.’
We wait by the gate, until Simon catches us up and unlocks the door. I don’t look at Melissa’s house, but even without seeing it, I can imagine the white-suited figures in her beautiful kitchen.
Will Neil continue living there? The blood will have dried now, I think, its glossy finish darkening; the edges of each spatter crisping into flakes. Someone will need to clean it, and I imagine them scrubbing and bleaching; the tiles forever hanging on to a shadow of the woman who died there.
My front door swings open. Inside the house is warm and welcoming. I’m comforted by the familiar pile of coats on the banister, and the disorderly heap of shoes by the doormat. Simon stands to one side, and I follow Katie and Simon indoors.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Matt says. He turns to leave, but Simon stops him.
‘Will you join us for a drink?’ he says. ‘I think we could all do with one.’
Matt hesitates, but only for a second. ‘Sure. That would be great.’
I wait in the hall, taking off my coat, and adding to the pile of shoes by the door. Justin, Katie and Matt go through to the lounge, and I hear Matt asking when the tree’s going up, and if there’s anything they want for Christmas this year. Simon comes out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and a fistful of glasses, their stems precariously slotted between the fingers of one hand.
‘Are you coming through?’ He looks at me anxiously, not sure how to help me. I smile reassuringly and promise that I will.
The door is still ajar, and now I open it a fraction more, and stand with the cold air on my face. I make myself look next door, at Melissa’s front garden with its fluttering police tape.
Not to remind myself what’s happened, but to remind myself that it’s over.
And then I shut the door and go to join my family.
Epilogue
Melissa never could see the potential for expansion. Couldn’t, or wouldn’t. It wasn’t clear. It was the only thing we ever argued about. She was so clever in many respects; so willing to work with me, so ready to believe in me when no one else would. Yet so short-sighted, in other ways.
Things were fine as they were, she said, we were making money. Why rock the boat? But I knew we could do so much more, and it frustrated me that she wouldn’t accept that. Some entrepreneur she turned out to be.
She liked to think of herself as my mentor, but the truth is; she needed me more than I needed her. She would never have hidden her tracks as successfully without me.
Melissa was nothing without me.
The game of cat and mouse – hunting Katie across London; that was my idea.
The two of them wouldn’t let it lie, and the police were getting closer all the time. A final fling, I told Melissa. Do this, and you can disappear to Rio with 80 per cent of everything we’ve made, and no one will ever find you. It had been a good partnership, but it was time for us both to move on.
Oh yes, 80 per cent.
Ever the hard-nosed business woman. Even though it was me who placed the adverts, me who hacked the CCTV system, me who approached the clients – with a little help from Neil’s address book. And what did I get for all that? 20 fucking per cent.
Do this, I told Melissa. Play this game, and walk away. Do it for me. Do it because I’ve helped you, and now it’s your turn to help me.
And she did.
I saw Katie’s profile go out and I knew it had started. I felt my blood pulse and I wondered if Melissa was excited. We’d never done anything like this before, but it felt right. It felt good.
As for Katie … I considered this payback. Payback not only for her constant need for attention, but for being the favourite. For never being in trouble; never bringing the police to the door or getting thrown out of school.
It was payback for her, too.
Zoe.
From your loving son.
Payback for leaving Dad even though he’d sacrificed everything for her. Payback for taking me away from my friends. Payback for fucking a man she’d only just met, before she was even divorced, then bringing him into our house without caring what I thought.
They think they’ve won the game, now that Melissa’s dead. They think it’s all over.
They’re wrong.
This is just the beginning.
I don’t need Melissa, I don’t need adverts in the Gazette, I don’t need the website.
I have the concept, I have the technology, and I have a mailing list of customers all interested in the sort of niche service I can provide for them.
And of course, I have you.
Hundreds of thousands of you, doing the same thing every day.
I see you, but you don’t see me.
Until I want you to.