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‘I said a lot of things, Grace.’ Kitty sighed. ‘I said I’d never forgive him, I know that, but then I thought he’d never forgive me. We’re two peas in a pod, Johnno and me. We suit each other.’

‘But…’ I shook my head in disbelief. ‘…what about Hull?’

‘Hull?’ The phone went silent for a moment, as if she was trying to think what I meant. ‘Oh, you mean that business with the tart?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The business with the tart. Exactly.’

‘Well.’ She gave a giggle. ‘I mean, it’s not like she’s going to bother anyone again, is it?’

I didn’t speak for a moment. I felt like I was missing something. ‘What do you mean, Kitty?’

‘Well…’ She gave an impatient sigh. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know?’

‘No, I…’

‘Christ, Grace. How can you not have heard? She was murdered. Last week. Turns out she was from London. Christine something. You must have seen it on the news.’

‘Christine Fielding,’ I said, heavily. Charlotte. The tart in Hull had been Charlotte all along. ‘But how? She was with Nat on the Sunday night.’

‘It didn’t happen on the Sunday night.’ Kitty spoke slowly, as if to a child. ‘They tried to cover it up, and make out it did, because of the pre-match rule, but it happened on the Saturday night.’

At that moment, I heard the front door open. Shit – Leo. He was supposed to be at training. What the hell was he doing here?

Kitty’s voice came high and tinny through the speaker, as I held the phone away from me slightly. ‘That’s part of the reason they got in so much shit – doing it the night before a game.’

‘So, it would’ve made no difference if Leo’d come home on the Sunday,’ I said, more to myself than to Kitty.

‘No,’ came Kitty’s voice, from my hip. ‘The deed was done, by then…Grace? Grace?’

I switched the phone off, as Leo sauntered into the front room. ‘Thought I might find you here.’ He leaned against the wall and folded his arms.

‘You said you’d be at football training,’ I said, trying to sound cheerful.

‘Yeah, well, I lied about that, I’m afraid.’ he let his arms drop and walked across the room towards me. ‘I didn’t get the transfer. There’s no point in going to training anymore. Sam’s dropped me from the squad. What are you doing?’

‘I’m collecting my things.’ I couldn’t keep my voice from trembling. ‘You told me to, last night.’

‘You’re joking, right?’ He gave a laugh of disbelief. ‘Listen, Grace. You can’t leave me, whatever you think. You don’t know what I’ve done for you.’

His words sent a chill through me. ‘What have you done, then, Leo?’ I asked, hardly wanting to hear the answer.

‘I’ve sorted things,’ he said, looking down at his hands. ‘I’ve sorted everything.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said. ‘You can’t sort us. It’s over.’

‘I can, and I have.’ He shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. ‘The club got her address. They thought they could hush it up.’

‘What, Leo?’ I stepped back away from him. ‘Hush what up?’

‘Hull,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t interested, the dumb bitch.’

‘What are you saying?’

He came towards me, his hands upturned and open in front of him. ‘You were so upset. I had to deal with it. I had to get you back.’

‘Oh my God,’ I said, shaking my head as his words tumbled into place in my mind. ‘It was you, all along.’

‘She deserved it.’ Leo’s voice was hard. ‘That’s what happens to women who shit on me.’

‘Now, Leo…’ I started to edge around him. I needed to get to the door, but it seemed miles away, suddenly.

‘She shit on me,’ he said, his eyes as blank and staring as Alex’s had been, the night before. ‘And now you’re doing the same.’

He looked up at me, surprised, as if seeing me for the first time. ‘You’re shitting on me too, Grace. I’ve done everything to get you to come home and you’ve been out there, screwing around behind my back.’

‘No.’ I shook my head, desperately. ‘You’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong.’

‘I haven’t.’ He gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘I watched you getting into that Bentley last night. I had the car. I followed you to a hotel. Don’t fuck me about.’

‘I’m entitled to a social…’ Even as I started to say it, I seized my chance and ran for the door. I was almost there, when he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back into the flat.

‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he snarled. ‘You’re staying here with me. Forever. D’you understand?’

I nodded, trying not to cry. I understood, all right. As he pushed me to the floor and got on top of me, I knew I had to do something, before it was too late.

‘Help!’ I yelled. ‘Help me!’

‘No one’s going to hear you in here,’ said Leo, looking down at me, his hands at my throat. ‘These flats are sound-proofed, as well you know.’

‘Help,’ I screamed.

As he struck me across the face, I thought sadly of the one person who’d always been there for me, who’d always had my back. ‘Help me, Nat,’ I yelled, hopelessly. ‘Help me, Filth Monger!’

At that, Leo’s fingers closed around my neck and, as I fought for my breath, my nails clawed at his face. So that’s whose DNA was under Charlotte’s fingernails, I thought vaguely, but the significance of it was lost on me. Everything felt distant and distorted. My legs kicked and my head shook, as I tried to fight him off, but it was useless.

Just as I’d given up all hope of survival and almost as in a dream, Nat appeared, like some sort of knight errant, over Leo’s shoulder.

‘Get off her, Sparkes,’ he said, calm as you like. ‘I’d seriously advise against pissing me off any further.’

Leo pushed off me with his knee, winding me completely as he did so, and sprang at Nat. I didn’t have time to wonder what he was doing there – I was too busy trying to get my breath back.

As I whooped and barked, my lungs struggling to take in enough air, I was dimly aware of them crashing into things as they fought for dominance. Finally, I managed to drag myself up onto the sofa, still gasping. Nat had the upper hand, it seemed, but Leo was fuelled by madness and he had no scruples – as I’d just found out.

Just when it seemed that Nat might finally have subdued him, pinning him bodily against the wall, Leo dodged out from under his arm. He ran through to the kitchen and returned with a knife he’d obviously grabbed from the knife block on the worktop. He stood staring at Nat, his face deadpan, his eyes on fire. ‘So you’re the one that’s been fucking my bird.’

It wasn’t a question and Nat didn’t try to deny it. He just stood there for a moment, before Leo started to walk towards him.

‘No, Leo,’ I said. ‘Please, no.’

He turned to look at me. ‘I’ll deal with you in a minute,’ he said, and turned back to Nat, who finally started to edge backwards away from him.

‘Not so fucking brave now, are you?’ Leo followed him, jabbing at him with the knife. ‘Look at you – you’re shit scared.’

‘You’ve got a knife, Leo,’ I said. ‘What d’you expect? For Christ’s sake – put it down.’

‘Why?’ He continued to jab at Nat, who inched backwards away from him.

‘Get out of here, Grace,’ he said. ‘I can deal with this.’

‘No way,’ I said. ‘I’m not going anywhere without you.’

That seemed to be the last straw for Leo. He lunged at Nat, screaming in fury. Nat ran towards the kitchen, Leo hot on his heels and still brandishing the knife. I followed behind him, not knowing what to do, but not wanting to leave Nat. As he reached the kitchen, he slipped on another pile of wet washing, and fell to the floor.

Leo sank down above him and raised the knife into the air. As I watched, and almost in slow-motion, he brought the blade down onto Nat’s shoulder. As Nat struggled, I saw a bloom of red appear on his shirt, its centre a small tear in the fabric, where Leo had pulled the knife out. He crouched over Nat, staring at the blade in satisfaction before holding it up again, ready to drive it back home.

I searched around me desperately for something to stop him. All I could see was the knife block. I almost considered taking a knife from it myself, and stabbing him, but, in the end, I couldn’t face the thought of it, and grabbed the knife block itself. As Leo lifted the knife higher, ready to stab Nat again, I brought the block down, hard and heavy on Leo’s head.