How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(42)

‘He could be a killer,’ Hen says. ‘Imagine that. Your own personal Joe Goldberg. And you have got a stalker. Maybe it’s Charlie. Maybe he’s creepy Dan Humphrey from Gossip Girl.’

‘Hen!’ Maisie is outraged again.

‘It’s not the craziest theory,’ Hen says. ‘I mean he’s basically the Mary Poppins of boyfriends but you’ve not seen his home.’

‘He hasn’t invited me yet. As I keep saying, it’s early days. And you’re all idiots. Please let me talk about the sex now.’

‘No. Not until you’ve been to his and checked the Dyson for bits of bone. Ligament. You know what you’re looking for, Queen of Abattoirs.’

‘It is a bit weird he’s not even invited me,’ I say, spearing some vegan sushi.

‘It’s been a while since you’ve been in a long-term relationship, Kits. And we all know how much Adam hurt you and your daddy issues blah blah. But trust me, you really should’ve boned at his place by now.’

Hmm. Yet again, Hen may have a valid point. Time for a plan.





34


SOUTH WEST TRAINS, A TRAIN, SOMEWHERE

‘So, this is intriguing.’

‘The Overground? Surely you’ve been on a train before?’ Charlie gives me a sideways look and a half smile.

‘Maybe once when I was a child. Is it always this hot and clammy? Anyway, I was talking about where you’re whisking me off to. I’m assuming there’s more to it than just making me live out childish nightmares of public transport.’

Charlie laughs and pulls me into him.

‘Come here, Princess.’

We’re standing because, even though I agreed to go on a train, I absolutely draw the line at sitting on one of the threadbare seats that probably have faecal matter like compounded in. It smells gross too, sort of like stale cigarettes and body odour. But it’s okay because every time the train jolts forward – which is a lot – we bump into each other, which isn’t the worst, and I get a lovely waft of whatever fragrance my very hot date is wearing. We’ve stumbled into each other so many times that Charlie is now half steadying me with his hand on my lower back and I’ve buried my nose into his T-shirt. Which, also, is not the worst.

The train pulls into Vauxhall and Charlie grabs my hand.

‘Come on, my lady, this is our stop.’

Vauxhall? Really?

‘You really take me to all the nicest places.’

We walk along for a bit and I’m glad Charlie at least gave me a heads-up to wear something comfortable on this date. I’m wearing my Prada trainers with black faux leather leggings by Karl Lagerfeld – which are a tiny bit sticky in the heat but as David Bowie said, ‘Ooh, fashion!’ – and a cute Missoni vest top. Charlie’s looking super sexy in dark jeans, which I think are Tom Ford, and a slouchy khaki T-shirt. He’s caught the sun and the light tan shade to his skin suits him. I mean really suits him. He catches me looking at him and winks.

‘Are you checking me out, Kitty Collins?’

‘Maybe. A bit.’

‘Do I pass?’

‘You’ll do. I suppose.’

He laughs. ‘Better than a flat no. But can I say that you look incredible?’

‘You can.’

‘You look incredible.’

‘These old things?’

We share a smile and I like the way we are with each other. Teasing but flirting at the same time.

I like it.

I like who I am when I’m with this man.





35


RANDOM AXE OF KINDNESS, VAUXHALL

We walk a bit further, not speaking or blurting out ridiculous and annoying anecdotes to fill the void. Instead, we’re catching each other’s gaze every few steps and sharing that smile again, like we have a secret. It’s incredibly sexy. Eventually we stop outside what looks like a sort of boarded-up warehouse.

It’s incredibly unsexy.

‘You’ve brought me to a factory,’ I say. ‘Not only have you made me go on public transport, you’ve now brought me to a factory. What’s the date? Am I going to be stuffing giblets into chickens or something?’

Charlie laughs and ruffles my hair, which would usually be at least a maiming offence but I like the frisson I feel when he touches me.

‘You are so cynical.’ He presses a buzzer and a girl in her early twenties, with one side of her head shaved and a digital clipboard thing dangling precariously in her left hand, opens the door.

‘Hi, guys,’ she says with an I’m-brutally-hungover-but-I-need-this-job lilt to her voice, which I like. I’m always immediately distrustful of people who are too fucking jolly when they’re at actual jobs. There’s something just not normal about it.

Maybe I am cynical.

‘Have you booked?’

‘Yep,’ Charlie says. ‘Two in the name of Chambers.’

Clipboard girl frowns at her clipboard for a couple of seconds.

‘Great, there you are. Right follow me upstairs and we’ll sort out your axes.’

I raise an eyebrow at Charlie. He reaches over and pinches my cheek as we head up some steps after Clipboard’s bum.

‘You look adorable when you’re confused.’