‘Look,’ she said, simply, with her eye brows rased and staring at LittelBaby, who was in my arms. ‘Sally-Anne. I…Iyuv come to get the…my…baby.’
‘Well, I am sorry….but you carnt have her,’ I said, trying to push the dor shut on her. She put her foot in it so the dor woudent shut.
‘Look, lets jus stop all this non sense, shall we, and start over?’ she hissed.
‘Shes not your baby,’ I said, ‘Shes my baby.’
NarstyLadys eyes bulged and she made a ‘durr’ sort of fase. ‘Erm…it wasent your egg and it wasant your boy friends sperm. No. It was my egg and my husbands sperm. You also singed a contract.’
‘Why dont you ever tell the truth?’ I arsked her. ‘Get your foot owt of my dor!’
‘I dont like your aterchood, Sally-Anne,’ she hissed. ‘Iyum not leving un less its with the baby.’ She lent for werd to wards me, with her arms owt streched. I coudent get back because I was still trying to slam the dor in her fase. Her fingers snaked rownd LittelBabys rist bifore I coud pull her awey. She was gripping LittelBabys arm, so we were practickly having a tug of wor with her and the por baby startid to screme.
‘Look, you want the truth, do you, Sally-Anne,’ she hissed despritly, yanking with all the strenth of one spindely arm, and trying to hit me in the fase with her uther arm, ‘if I fale in my mishun,’ smack, ‘my life wont be werth living.’ Smack. ‘I have to diliver her today.’ Smack. ‘ You dont under stand….my bossis have no mersy, they woud kill.…’
NarstyLady stopped hissing. Duncan was suddernly there biside me, and NarstyLadys hand let go of LittelBabys rist, and she fell down, with her mowth wide opern, sloly, bit by bit, all most like she was joking like she was in the theater or some thing. Part of me thort ‘Oh, I wunder what she was going to say,’ and I all most laughed. Then I saw that Duncan had smacked her in the hed with a brick. There was a big red cut on her hare, oozing blud. Her legs were twitching. She was moning. ‘Oh, my god, Duncan!’ I said. ‘Well done! You are a fucking hero.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking at NarstyLady. ‘You were right, Sally-Anne, NarstyLady is a proper bitsh. Shes not geting LittelBaby.’
‘Well, not now shes not,’ I said, ‘cos you done her in.’ I put LittelBaby in her shoe box carry cot, propped up on blankies, and picked up that brick and smashed it again and again on NarstyLadys hed. I dident want to. You know I dident. Its jus I had to make shure she was ded. Blud was seeping in to the lino, thick and dark and stickey. I knew I had to clene it up. LittelBaby was wotching. She wasant crying, jus looking with wide eyes.
Oh, stupid persen. Why did she have to come arfter us? It was her folt. She dident diserve a baby. How woud NarstyLady have fed the baby with owt milk in her tits for starters? Evry one knows bottel milk isent safe sinse all those thowsands of babies dide in 2017.
We stood there looking at the boddy. A small dark bubbel popped owt of its nose. ‘Now look…’ said Duncan. ‘Weve got to get rid of that now.’
‘The bubbel,’ I arsked, ‘or the boddy?’
Duncan laughed. He all weys likes my jokes. ‘The boddy,’ he ansered.
‘How?’ I arsked. ‘Oh, Iyuv seen this on telly, like lodes of times….’ I tried to member. ‘Oh yeh, I think you have to rap the boddy in a blankit and slide it down the stares.’
‘Yeah, well, weyer on the grownd flor, so there are no stares,’ said Duncan.
‘Then thay chop its arms and legs of to fit it in the car, cos its gone stiff.’
‘We havent got a car,’ said Duncan.
‘No. We havent,’ I said.
‘And shes not gone stiff, yet.’
‘No, but we havent got a car, eny wey, so theres no point chopping her up,’ I rimindid him.
‘Did it end well?’ arsked Duncan.
‘What?’ I arsked.
‘You know. The thing you saw on the telly.’
I coudent member if it had but thort that probly it hadent. I did member the man who had to cut the legs and arms of the boddy went bonkers and went to live in the attic and lerked in the roof spying on pepol thrugh holes. Having to chop up a boddy woud drive you bonkers. If I had to do it, it woud make me more bonkers than I all redy am, Iyum shure.
I garsped suddernly with a realisashun. ‘Dus this mene you are a merderer?’
‘No, Iyum not. You are,’ said Duncan.
‘No Iyum not! You are,’ I said.
‘You are!’ he said.
‘No, you are!’ I said.
We endid up on the bed rolling arownd hitting each uther, giggling.
‘You merderer!’ I said. ‘Duncan is a merderer!’
‘I only bashed her once,’ he prertestid, siting on top of me and pinning my arms to the bed. ‘You bashed her lots of times.’
‘But my bashis were littel. Your bash was big,’ I said. I membered some thing. ‘Theres a blankit in the cubberd.’
Duncan got of me and lit a fag and paced abowt, thinking, wiol I pulled the blankit owt.
‘We might rap her in a blankit but we still gotta get rid of her,’ he said. ‘And in a surrup tishus manner.’
‘Duncan?’ I said.
‘Yes, Sally-Anne?’ he said.
‘Whats surrup tishus?’ we said to gether.
I laughed. Hes so clever and all weys knows what I am going to say. Its like he can rede my mind.
‘Its so no boddy sees,’ he explaned.
‘We coud jus tip her quiertly in to the river?’ I serjested.
‘No, we want her to be far awey from here, cos the motel pepol have seen us and know what we look like,’ said Duncan.
We both had the idear at the same time. ‘That littel bowt. We coud put her in the bowt. Then sheyull flowt far awey down streme.’
‘We hope,’ I said.
‘Yes, we hope,’ he said.
‘If she went up streme weyud wunder why!’ I said.
We giggled a bit nervusly. Then I made my self stop bifore I had a massiv giggerling fit, because I realised it was not funny. Like ded boddies, is not funny. And aspesholy not if youv corsed them to be ded.
Some times I know I am not like uther pepol because I think things are funny when thay really dont. ‘Duncan?’ I said.
‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he said.
‘Why do I some times think things are funny what uther pepol dont think are at all funny?’
And this is when Duncan said : ‘Blimey, Sally-Anne, you really are the Queen of Digreshuns.’ I laughed because it sowndid funny. I dident know what Digreshuns ment thogh.
‘Duncan?’ I said.
‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he rip lied.
‘Whats digreshuns?’ we said to gether.
I laughed. ‘How did you know I was going to say that?’ I said.
‘Because I know you,’ he said, and kissed my cold cheke and put his hand bitween my legs. ‘And I love you, Sally-Anne.’
I felt a thrill right in my toes and right up my boddy in to the back of my hed. Goose bumps going deep in side me to my cor. A prickley, luvley fiyuling.
We took the baby down to the river in the shoe box. There were so meny trees and rocks that no boddy woud see us. Bisides wich, there wasent eny one arownd. We tipped the bowt over. It was quite flimsy fiber glars, paintid with black tar stuff. It hadent been used for agis. It had spiders webs and beetels in it. We left the baby jus for a minit wiol we went back for the boddy. To gether we dragged it, sloly sloly, on the blankit to the bowt, and Duncan took the hed end and I took the feet, still in there shiney high heels, and we heeved her in to it. Blimey, she dident look that hevy but my, was she ever! She wasant very centrel but it coudent be helped. She was kind of sitting up lening on the side of the bowt. Duncan put a brarnch in her hand, sticking owt from the side of the bowt. Oh my, now it woud look like she was paderling her way down the river. Until you got close that is. Duncan grabbed some grarsis and made a sort of pillow for her hed so she looked a bit better. I mopped the blud of her fase with a bit of my shert. It dident help much. Now she looked very smery and quite upset. Her hare was all messed up too with ortum leves and twigs in it. She woud not of been happy if she coud of seen her hare. I was suddernly glad that she was ded so she coudent see it. Duncan took his fag owt of his mowth and put it in bitween NarstyLadys lips. ‘Yeh, smoke on that!’ he said, and then pushed the bowt owt hard from the bank with his fut.
She flowted of looking like she was smoking and paderling.
It was quite a specticle. Looking at her, I realised that it was all because of us that she was like that. I startid to cry. ‘But then again, its still her folt,’ I thort. ‘She shoudent of come trying to grab LittelBaby.’ Duncan came over and held me by the waste and kissed me again. It felt so nice I all most fergot my trubels. LittelBaby was crying so we picked her up and kissed her. The silver berches flickered the larst of there leves looking all silvery in the moon light. In that littel moment by the light of the soring moon, I felt like we were a happy famly, cosy and luvley to gether. I fergot abowt what was going on. But when I looked back to wards the river and saw the bowt flowting of with the gory gory gerl on it, I scremed and startid to shiver. NarstyLadys hare was on fiyer!
‘Duncan! NarstyLadys hare is on fiyer!’ I wispered.
He looked rownd. ‘Fuck my life,’ he groned.
Yeh, bit of a fale on the surrup tishus dispowsing of the boddy frunt. I coud of said to him, ‘you shoudent of put that fag in her mowth,’ but I dident, as I often have to take the blame for things and I know it dusent fiyul nice being rong abowt some thing.
But… it was a horribel sight. The flames from her hare lit up her blud staned fase and staring eyes and carst an oringe glow on her hand holding the brarnch. Oh god, some boddy was bownd to see a berning lady paderling down the river. Why carnt we tern the clock back in life? I wished that we had not hert her. I wished it very very hard, with all of me, willing for us to be back bifore it had happerned, or wishing it coud all be a bad dreme, but no. There we were still, clutching on to each uther, all three of us, staring at this awfull garstly sight what we had made.