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And he knows that I gave birth to my father’s child when I was thirteen. I dropped that bomb on him and nothing changed between us. It’s a small step, but it makes me begin to believe that one day I can tell Tom without breaking our relationship.
“You found her.” “No,” he says. “We didn’t. Leah, Isabel didn’t kill James Gorden. Owen Fielding did.” “What?” “We found his fingerprints all over the door handle on your kitchen door and three of his hairs on James Gorden’s head. We found his footprints in your garden.”
The first time I saw him visit, she drew him a magpie and he chastised her because magpies are manipulators. Maybe she was trying to tell me something.”
“I wonder what you look like naked, dear Leah. You don’t seem to have a bad body. The tits aren’t bad. You’re a little bloated from all that wine you’ve been glugging away.” She laughed. “Would I fuck you? I don’t know, maybe. Maybe I will. Now.” The laugh that came from her was high-pitched and disturbing, the kind of laugh a child would make, but twisted with malice. “It’s a shame we don’t have enough time.”
WHAT THE FUCK
Then, as the room began to melt away, she kissed me on the lips and left.
James Gorden’s decomposing, headless body is sitting opposite me, propped up on a chair with his hands placed neatly in his lap, as though posing for a school photograph. The corpse is bloated and sagging, like the balloon remnants from a child’s party. I only recognise him from the t-shirt, a large baggy thing with a Harry Potter lightning bolt across the chest, and, of course, the fact that there’s no head.
OH MY GOD I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE HER DAD OR SOMETHING
“What about her?” Tom says, nodding at Isabel’s unconscious form lying amidst broken pieces of plasterboard and crumbled bricks. “If you… If you kill her, this is all over.” I turn over the knife in my hand and consider it for a moment. “If I kill her, it’s murder.” “But after what she did to you, she deserves it.” “I can’t, Tom. I just can’t do it.”
she's gonna be gone when they come back isn't she
For a few precious moments, Isabel is a bird in flight.
FUCK YEAH
