BooksBarbecue
Back Perfect Ten Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. Chapter One
  2. Chapter Two
  3. Chapter Three
  4. Chapter Four
  5. Chapter Five
  6. Chapter Six
  7. Chapter Seven
  8. Chapter Eight
  9. Chapter Nine
  10. Chapter Ten
  11. Chapter Eleven
  12. Chapter Twelve
  13. Chapter Thirteen
  14. Chapter Fourteen
  15. Chapter Fifteen
  16. Chapter Sixteen
  17. Chapter Seventeen
  18. Chapter Eighteen
  19. Chapter Nineteen
  20. Chapter Twenty
  21. Chapter Twenty-one
  22. Chapter Twenty-two
  23. Chapter Twenty-three
  24. Chapter Twenty-four
  25. Chapter Twenty-five
  26. Chapter Twenty-six
  27. Chapter Twenty-seven
  28. Chapter Twenty-eight
  29. Chapter Twenty-nine
  30. Chapter Thirty
  31. Chapter Thirty-one
  32. Chapter Thirty-two
  33. Chapter Thirty-three
  34. Chapter Thirty-four
  35. Chapter Thirty-five
  36. Chapter Thirty-six
  37. Chapter Thirty-seven
  38. Chapter Thirty-eight
  39. Chapter Thirty-nine
  40. Chapter Forty
  41. Chapter Forty-one
  42. Chapter Forty-two
  43. Chapter Forty-three
  44. Chapter Forty-four
  45. Acknowledgements

Time to go home. No doubt tomorrow I’ll have to face the music. I glance at the laptop screen and see that the pictures have been shared more and more widely. Comments are appearing and there doesn’t seem to be any doubt that it was you in the picture with Julie. Francis doesn’t appear to have a Facebook account so perhaps she’s got away with it, but just imagine the stress she will go through, wondering if someone has shown him.

Just in case they haven’t, I make a Hotmail account in Monica’s name and check the Johnson Weaver website. Francis still works there and I click on his email address. I attach the most obvious picture and a message telling him to look on his wife’s Facebook account and press send. That should cover everything. Like Christine’s husband, he has the right to know about his wife’s fucking around.

I can see a pattern forming. The human brain likes patterns and thrives on making order out of chaos. Kind of arranging similar things into groups. Like cheating husbands and unfaithful wives. Before long people will really start to realise just what a liar you were, and still are.

Chapter Eleven

Someone’s banging on the front door and I open one eye and see it’s light. My phone tells me it’s three minutes to eight, so I’ve overslept. When I pull back the curtain I see DS Percy talking to the delivery man who is trying to leave a large box in my garden.

I pull my dressing gown on and hurry to the front door.

‘It’s OK. I’m here. Bring it in.’

I realise I’m shaking. This is it. She’s going to arrest me. I stand back and the delivery man pushes the box into the already overcrowded lounge. He stands with his hands on his hips.

‘You can get your money back on stuff, you know, love. You don’t have to keep them. You just ask for a return label and I come and …’ I stare at him and he stares past me into the kitchen, where the towers of crap provide their own landscape. I know he wants to help but, right now, it’s not helping at all. He shakes his head, turns and walks away. ‘Or you could give them to charity.’