Kate stared once more at the pictures of the dead women and girls. Her eyes lingered on Mandy Kelly and she thought of Patrick. Then she got on with the work in hand.

George came home from a particularly trying day at work. His leaving party was the talk of the office and he had felt like screaming at them all to go away and leave him alone. Somehow even some of the men from the warehouse had been roped in and George was annoyed. He had never spoken to one of them, even in passing. The last thing he wanted was to make conversation with a crowd of working-class bullies. All they were interested in was the stripper. Oh, he knew what they were after. Pity they didn’t know about him, that would shut them all up. He didn’t need sluts parading around semi-naked, he could have anyone he wanted. Whenever he wanted.

He closed his eyes tightly. Elaine as usual was chattering. Sometimes he wished he had the guts to slap her silly face, slap it till it stung and her big fat ears rang.

‘George, are you listening to me?’ Her strident voice bored through his skull like a newly sharpened axe.

‘Of course I am, dear. I always listen to you.’

‘Well, what do you think about what I said then?’

‘I . . . I don’t really know.’ George was racking his brains to try and remember one item of gossip that might have entered his consciousness since Elaine started talking at him the moment he’d entered the house.

She sighed heavily and began to baste the roast potatoes. ‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? I tell you my manager says they’re thinking of cutting down on staff.’

George interrupted her.

‘But they’d never get rid of you, Elaine.’

‘Who said they were getting rid of me? Do you ever listen to me, George? My manager said that I stood a good chance of being put in as supervisor on the tills. Not before time, I might add. So even though they’re cutting back on staff,’ she poked herself in the chest, ‘I will still be employed. And at a better wage as well. And let’s face it, George, now you’ve got the bum’s rush from your job, a regular wage isn’t to be sneezed at, is it?’

The last malicious twist of the knife made his breath come in shallow little gasps. So that was how she was going to play it, was it? Now the sympathy had worn off and the euphoria over the money, Elaine was going to become the one thing she’d always tried to be. The real head of the household. The major breadwinner.

George had visions of himself getting out of his chair and taking the large breadknife from the worktop and slitting Elaine’s throat with it, cleanly and neatly, and laughing. Laughing his head off while he did it.

He stood up unsteadily.