Pop Goes the Weasel

118

Helen refused to drop her gaze. Ella was virtually eyeball to eyeball with her. Helen could smell her rank breath, could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against her leg. Still Ella refused to relinquish it.

‘Why do you want to save me, Helen?’ Ella asked suddenly.

‘Because I think you’ve been wronged. Because I think the world owes you.’

‘You think I’m good?’ A snarl came and went in her voice.

‘I know you’re good.’

Ella smiled bitterly.

‘Well then, you listen to me. I want you to know something.’

She was about to speak, then paused, distracted by a sudden squeak from the living room. A board creaking. Helen knew immediately that they had company. Charlie? Tony? Tactical Support? Helen wanted to scream at them to stay the fuck away, but she stayed stock still, not breaking eye contact, not breathing. Ella hesitated for a second, then leaned in closer.

‘I don’t regret it, Helen. Whatever I say afterwards, I want you to know. I don’t regret a single thing.’

Helen said nothing. Ella’s pupils were dilated, her breathing unsteady.

‘Those men… those hypocrites… they deserved to be exposed,’ she continued. ‘They were happy enough to flaunt their wedding rings, play the husband and father. They weren’t so happy to be seen with girls like me. Well, I changed all that. I showed them up for what they really are. Sometimes the world needs a wake-up call, right?’

She looked at Helen fiercely for a moment, then the fire seemed to die in her eyes.

‘But I want to do right by Amelia. So I’m going to trust you. Can I trust you, Helen?’

‘You have my word. I won’t let you down.’

‘Then thank you.’

Slowly she turned the knife in her hand. Gripping the blade, she held the handle up for Helen to take.

Immediately there was a sharp crack and Ella lurched sideways, crashing into the wardrobe next to her.

Helen froze for a moment, stunned. Then snapping out of it, she rushed to Ella. Even as she knelt down to help her, she could see that it was already hopeless. The bullet had entered through Ella’s temple and she was already dead.

Charlie burst in, but it was too late. Helen was cradling the killer’s corpse and on the bed, spattered with blood, her baby continued to cry.