m8, wouldn’t normally ask but can u do my shift 2night? Ellie really poorly.
No hesitation. Gav was his best mate. And he’d do anything for his Goddaughter, Ellie.
Seven hours later, Rich was asked to sit in on the interview.
“Spanish, see. Nothing dodgy. Kinda film I rent when the missus is out with mates. Not your Hollywood shitflicks… all lipstick, explosions and half-arsed remakes. Bitta substance. Koreans are knocking out some decent stuff right now. Argentineans too.
“Thing is… the missus stayed in. Meant to be out, she was. Last-minute cancellation. Anyhow, some culture wouldn’t hurt her.
“Got the movie in good bloody faith. Decent director. Good synopsis. Bloke travelling round old Spain; picking up coded messages from people. Hit-man. All a bit Hitchcock… Almodovar… y’know.
“Beautiful it was.
“Shoulda bloody known though. Every review banged on about stunning cinematography.
“Weren’t wrong. Ida had every frame up in my ‘ouse. Hundred and eighty-seven thousand odd works of fuckin’ art.
“But that’s it.
“Need a story, me. “
“But kept at it… got hooked y’know… Expected this huge twist at the end…rewarding time spent… smack-bang in me solar plexus…
“But no… just sodding ended. No twist. No lightening bolt. Nuffin’.
“Felt fuckin’ cheated.
“Then fuck me if my missus doesn’t do her usual: nod off minutes from the end, wake up at the credits and ask what happened.
“I just lost it.
“The glass was closest.
“Smashed it into Julie’s throat. Couldn’t stop myself. Until her windpipe finally came away.”
Rich flinched. “Sorry? Julie?”
“Yeah, Julie Reynolds… the wife I did actually love.”
Rich couldn’t escape fast enough.
WPC Flowers jolted, “Interview suspended, three-thirty am.”
He’d just met ‘Mad Bastard.’
Bile, coffee and half-digested pizza splashed across tiles, along with his Nokia, still displaying the last text through a smashed screen:
Don’t worry about cancelling Rich. Last night with MadBad anyway. Leaving him tomorrow. Then we’re together forever!
You can read Larner’s blog here.