Human Remains - By Elizabeth Haynes Page 0,27

point in looking for additional work to do, after all, because that would just be setting myself up for bigger challenges in the future. No: I do what I have to do, I do it well, I do it slightly better than anyone else, and they leave me alone.

I’ve stopped masturbating, for now. I was disgusting myself. I’m saving it for the weekend, when I can waste time with it if I feel like it. I am, as always, in control.

Vaughn Bradstock has asked me if I would like to have dinner with him and the delightful Audrey on Saturday.

My first thought was that it would interrupt my evening of wanking and porn; then I reconsidered. It would be intriguing to meet Audrey, after having heard about every intimate detail of her life, her physique and her personality over the last few months. He has decided against Weston-super-Mare, by the way. I told him it was wise. If you were going to go somewhere with the woman of your dreams, then surely you would find somewhere more exotic than Weston-super-Mare?

‘About six-thirty alright?’ he’d asked.

Typical, I thought. ‘Can we make it a bit later? I have a phone call to make at that time.’

There was a momentary pause. ‘Oh, well, I suppose so. Can’t you ring whoever it is earlier? It’s just that Audrey doesn’t like to eat too late. Something about the diet she’s on.’

‘I can be there for seven,’ I said firmly. ‘If that’s no good, I’m afraid I shall have to decline.’

In the end he agreed to seven o’clock, and then he asked me if I had any special dietary requirements, at which I laughed.

‘It’s a serious question,’ he asked. ‘I’d hate to accidentally kill you with something you have an allergy to.’

‘I’m not too keen on aubergine,’ I said, in the end.

‘We’ll bear that in mind,’ he said. ‘Audrey’s cooking.’

‘Is she any good?’ I asked, thinking that actually he must surely have told me about Audrey’s culinary expertise at some point; after all, he’d told me about everything else.

‘Oh, yes,’ Vaughn said with enthusiasm.

But, given Vaughn’s taste in women, beer and music, this was not enlightening. I will have to wait until Saturday and see for myself.

I dropped in to see my friend Maggie on the way home. She wasn’t looking too bright, poor thing. Still, I sat with her for a while and chatted to her. I’m intrigued by her house, which is beautiful, along with everything in it – there must be about six bedrooms upstairs; no idea why she needs that many since she’s been on her own for a good couple of years. I don’t think I disturbed her too much, although she was looking very tired. I told her I’d go back and see how she was doing at the weekend, and left her to it.

I got home and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, put on a load of laundry and ironed my work shirts whilst watching the news.

I’ll have to plan my weekend carefully, with so much to fit in. Vaughn’s dinner party, diverting as it sounds, is the least of my priorities at the moment.

Briarstone Chronicle

September

Briarstone Man Found Dead in Flat

The badly decomposed body of a man in his 50s was found by council workers at a block of flats in Briarstone yesterday.

The housing officers called at the flat in North Lane after several official letters and phone calls had gone unanswered, it was revealed. ‘The body was discovered sitting upright in the living area and the television was still on,’ a council spokesperson said.

The man is believed to be Robin Downley, unemployed. Neighbours had not seen Mr Downley for some time. One woman who did not wish to be named told us: ‘I kept calling the council about the smell. I must have rung up 30 times and they never came round.’

Robin

My wife left me, and that was the beginning of the end of my life.

I remember I was at home with the kids on a Sunday afternoon, washing up, when the doorbell rang. It was Elaine, my wife’s best friend. She had tears in her eyes. I invited her in and faffed about making a cup of tea while she sat in the living room and sobbed unselfconsciously, making a hideous racket. Fortunately the kids were upstairs also making a hideous racket so they were none the wiser.

‘Where’s Beverley?’ Elaine said to me when at last she could speak. I assumed she just wanted her best friend’s shoulder

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