She went into the kitchen and put the envelope into her apron pocket. It gave her a warm feeling knowing that it was there. She would see her other grandchildren and it would be thanks to Patrick Kelly.

No matter what anyone thought, she liked him. He was a product of the world they lived in and his lifestyle gave her not a smidgen of bad conscience.

As for what he had done to Dan . . . she shrugged. He’d been asking for that for years.

Her only regret was she hadn’t been there to see it for herself.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

George looked at the clock. It was five thirty-five and still dark. He rubbed at his eyes. They felt gritty and he could smell a funny smell on his hands. He leant out of bed and turned on the small bedside lamp. As the glaring brightness penetrated his eyes he grimaced.

His hands had rust-coloured stains on them. He held them up in front of him as if he had never seen them before and sat up in bed. He was fully dressed. He frowned.

Pulling back the covers, he slipped out of the sheets and stood uncertainly on the carpet.

His mouth felt dry and fluffy and he swallowed with difficulty. What he needed was a cup of coffee. He made his way downstairs humming to himself. He walked into the kitchen and turned on the fluorescent light. It flickered into life, illuminating Elaine’s body. Ignoring her, he walked to the sink and filled the kettle. Stepping over her silent form, he made himself a strong, sweet coffee and took it to the kitchen table. Then he went into the lounge and brought back his Christmas cigars. He lit one and puffed on it for a few seconds to get it fully alight.

He sighed with happiness. Coffee and cigars. Cigars and coffee.

He grinned to himself. He was totally free now.

Finally he looked at Elaine.

Today she was going to disappear forever. He knew what he had to do. But first he needed a shower.

George had had his shower and was now in the process of putting Elaine into two large black bags. He covered her head and shoulders first. Her sightless eyes were getting on his nerves. Her head had stuck to the floor in a pool of blood that had congealed to a reddish-brown. It still had long strands of ginger-orange hair stuck in it. He would have to scrape it off the tiles. He finally had the bag over her head and tied it around her neck with string. Then he looked at her lower body. He had turned her over to make it easier for him and now her legs were wide open. He imagined her without her tracksuit bottoms and smiled to himself, feeling the familiar excitement. The blood everywhere was making him feel aroused.