that age do. Then when I stepped inside her house that first time, she had this folder thing on the side by the hob, and when I asked her about it she was really quite shifty. She said it was bank statements or something, but she closed it quickly – too quickly, I thought – and put it on the shelf on the dresser, as if she didn’t want me to steal her lasagne recipe or something.
HS: And you looked inside it?
IT: Look, I know you shouldn’t go snooping in someone else’s house, but the way she was acting made me curious. Anyone would be. She went to fetch an ashtray – I mean, I always smoke in the garden but she insisted I could smoke indoors – and when I heard her plod upstairs – she has a very heavy tread – I had a quick glance through, that’s all. And I can tell you something: it wasn’t recipes.
HS: Ms Taylor, can you tell us what you found?
IT: Well, the cuttings, obviously. All those deaths. Violent crimes. Related articles too – knife crime on the rise, how safe are our streets, campaigns, that sort of stuff.
HS: And what was your reaction?
IT: Shock. It was shocking. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, to be honest. Page after page of it. There must have been over a hundred articles in there – stabbings, shootings, armed robbery, you name it. Mark told me she wanted to organise some sort of campaign, but of course now it all makes perfect sense. I mean, this was before I got to know Mark, and I have to say, I almost ran out of the house screaming. I mean, hello? Talk about psychopathic, my God! What’s your hobby? Oh, I collect violent deaths and keep them under cellophane so they don’t spoil. I mean, who does that? You’d have to be… well, she was, wasn’t she? In the guise of a mother figure. I mean, it’s straight from Stephen King.
HS: Ms Taylor—
IT: I suppose there’ll be more clippings in there now, won’t there? Including the… the ones she did herself… Oh God, I don’t even want to think about it, but it was the organisation, you know? The care. That was almost the most terrifying thing. Each one in its own clear sleeve like it was a precious document. And when I found out about… about what she’d done, I thought, why not keep a folder on the computer? Call it something random like, well, like Recipes or Kids or something. Expenses. Anything. Why keep paper, these days? But I guess you can’t settle down on the sofa and leaf through a computer file quite the same, can you, if that’s even what she spent her time doing. Who knows? Maybe she liked to flick through them on her days off. Perving over other people’s murders while she sipped the rank instant coffee she served. That makes sense, I suppose. I mean, it’s sick, isn’t it? Morbid. Actually, this is making me stressed. Can I smoke in here?
4
Rachel
‘Bloody hell.’ Lisa was still in her dressing gown. ‘What’s the matter, wet the bed?’
‘Very funny. I was up early, that’s all, so I thought I may as well walk the dog.’
She backed up, still holding the front door open. ‘Come in then, if you’re coming.’
I’ve known Lisa since we were kids – jigsaws and Sindy dolls, primary school, secondary, first boyfriends, first time getting drunk, borrowing each other’s clothes, make-up, you name it. Even got pregnant at the same time – my first, her second. Kieron and Jodi. Both her girls are at uni now. Jodi went off to Leeds the year before Kieron to do modern languages and Kieron went to Goldsmiths to do fine art last year after his foundation. I thought Katie would leave home this year with her being so academic, but she said she wanted to do a gap year, which so far seems to mean seventy-two zillion hours alternating between Instagram, YouTube and Netflix. Oh, and getting bladdered with her mates twice a week. I’m not sure she’ll ever go to uni now to be honest. What a waste.
Lisa brought us a coffee. It wasn’t quite warm enough to sit out, so we went to sit in her conservatory, where Archie had a quick sniff before curling up for a doze. ‘So, what’s new?’
I dived straight in, told her about how I’d become the invisible woman.
‘I was so shocked it gave