How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(36)

I hand him an envelope as well. ‘And something for yourself too.’ Later, when his shift is over, he’ll open the envelope and find it stuffed with twenties. Nothing wrong with reminding people what an absolute sweetheart you are from time to time.

I mean, yes, you could call it bribery. But I don’t like that word.

After I’ve disposed of Daniel Rose (a factory in Swindon this time), I check my phone and see that Maisie’s requested a conference at The Lost Hours later tonight. I’ve got about enough time to shower and change, while I try not to think about Charlie. There are no more calls or texts from him. My stomach dips and I register this emotion as extreme disappointment.





28


THE LOST HOURS, KING’S ROAD

Maisie arrives late and slips into her seat at the table silently, three pairs of eyes looking at her intensely.

‘What?’ she says, frowning. ‘Pour me some of that.’

Tor fills her wineglass up with the open bottle of Chablis.

‘Come on then,’ Hen says. ‘Spill the beans. All of them.

You summoned us, remember?’

Maisie is blushing. ‘Oh yeah. I need to talk sex.’

‘Urgh. Really?’ I say. ‘Can you spare us?’

Hen shoots me a look. ‘Speak for yourself. I want to know everything. You’ve hardly told us a thing about Roo’s bedroom prowess.’

‘Objection overruled,’ Tor says, using her wineglass as a gavel before she and Hen chant: ‘How big is his dick?’

Neighbouring tables look over at us, but fortunately, it’s a Thursday evening, everyone is already pretty tipsy, enjoying their pre-kend drinks. There are a few laughs and one man, wearing a waistcoat for no apparent reason, stands up and gives them a round of applause.

Maisie nods her gratitude to him before rolling her eyes and turning back to us.

‘Yes. I’m getting laid on the reg. I don’t know why there’s this big fanfare about it though. It’s not like I’ve been going through a dry patch or anything. Not like some people.’ She moves her face close to mine. ‘Not that I’d be uncouth enough to name any names, Kitty Collins.’

‘Leave her alone,’ Hen says. ‘If Kitty wants to keep her kitty drier than a Ryvita, then that is her decision. Anyway, she’s got Charlie Chambers in her web now so her drought is practically over. We’re talking about you. Now, out with it. What’s he like in the sack?’

‘Just the usual really.’ She shrugs, fiddling with a non-existent bit of fluff on her skirt.

Tor pulls a face. ‘That is not the response of someone who had their chakras realigned last night. What happened?’

‘Nothing. Well, nothing unusual. Just the normal stuff.’

‘Okay, so we’ve established he hasn’t showed you his private torture garden yet,’ I say. ‘But it doesn’t sound like you were swinging from the light fittings either. Bad foreplay?’

‘No foreplay?’ Hen’s eyes are wide in horror. ‘Did he do that awful thing where they just stick their fingers in you, like they’re trying to get hair out of the plughole?’

Maisie laughs. ‘No. It was nothing like that. It was fine.’

‘Fine. Fine sex.’ Hen’s laughing.

‘So, you have to tell us more than that. Did he go down? Was it awful?’

‘Does he have a tiny cock?’ Tor asks.

Maisie is hiding her head in her hands now and shaking with laughter. ‘No. Stop asking me. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve changed my mind. Let’s just get drunk and gossip like usual.’

I gasp. ‘Micro penis?’

She keeps giggling. ‘No! It’s normal size and everything. It’s just that …’ She takes her hands away from her face and looks at us. ‘No. I can’t. It’s too mortifying to even repeat.’

‘Well, you have to tell us now!’ Tor says. ‘Or Hen will make up her own version of what she thinks happened and tell everyone that.’

Hen nods. ‘That does sound like the sort of thing I’d do.’ She picks up her iPhone and opens her Twitter app.

‘No! Stop! I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you. Just give me some more of that first.’ She points at the wine and Tor fills her glass to the brim. Maisie has to move her mouth to the glass so it doesn’t spill. She looks like a little kid with a McDonald’s milkshake.

‘Okay. So, last night, we’re at mine. We’d been out to a couple of bars so were feeling quite drunk by this point and things were getting, um, heated on the sofa. Clothes had started to come off.’

She pauses and takes another big slug of wine. I don’t think any of us are breathing.

‘I suggested we take things upstairs. You know I’m funny about getting any stains on the sofas. So, we headed up to my bedroom. More clothes were shed along the way. Jesus, we almost ended up fucking on the stairs, but you know, carpet burn. So, we’re in my room and we’re kissing and his mouth starts to head downwards. By this point I’m almost clawing at him, I’m so close to coming. And it’s amazing. I’m there in seconds, gripping the sheets and all that. So good. Anyway, I’m lying there, you know, recovering. He’s looking pretty pleased with himself – and rightly so. Then he begins to edge up the bed, his groin getting closer to my face. And then he …’