Page 159 of One of Us Is Guilty

‘Leave,’ he said.

‘No, I have to make sure you go through with it. Do it. Do it for yourself.’

He nodded, and together they walked to the locked bathroom door.

‘What the fuck happened to the water?’ said Julian, his voice muffled behind the thick mahogany door.

Vanessa slipped off both of her open-toed high-heel shoes. She tossed one, the other she placed on the floor, with the open toe pointed at the tiny gap between the door and the carpet. Vanessa took her perfume bottle, sprayed the door, then took off the atomizer and poured the contents of the rest of the bottle onto the insole of the shoe.

The liquid slipped down the leather, cascading at a rapid pace through the open-toe gap, and underneath the bathroom door.

It wasn’t perfume – it was ether, taken from a can of engine-starting fluid, and it would burn like nothing else on this earth.

‘What is this? What the hell is wrong with this plumbing? It’s all over my shoes.’

The door handle suddenly turned so fast that it frightened Vanessa, and she stood up and backed away from the door, now barefoot.

‘What the . . . Get me out of here . . .’

‘Do it,’ said Vanessa. ‘Do it for yourself. Do it for your mother. He made her suffer just like you suffered.’

Patrick picked up the ship’s lamp from the table, the wick red hot. She could smell the kerosene from a few feet away.

‘Dad, I’m not weak. Not any more. This is for Mom, and Molly,’ said Patrick, and he threw the lamp at the door.

The flames burst into life instantly, the floor and the oak door roaring into flame.

The screams came next, his father burning like that wick.

Burning like the devil he was.

Patrick and Vanessa moved fast. He leaned over the balcony, shouted down to the security guards on the stairs below.

‘Fire! Get everyone out now!’

‘Where’s your father?’ called the security guard, as he turned and started to run up the staircase.

‘He must be outside already. I think he took the back stairs. Get everyone out, now!’

The guard hesitated, uncertain what to do.

The fire alarm on the second floor blared, deafening everyone. People in the crowd below started shouting, women screaming.

‘Get them out!’ cried Patrick.

The guard turned on his heel, leapt the last two stairs to the hallway and began to holler at everyone to get out of the house.

Vanessa grabbed Patrick’s arm, and they made for the back staircase, but she couldn’t resist a glance back toward the bathroom.

The door was ablaze, and the ceiling now too. The fire was spreading rapidly, fueled by the oil from the lamp.

Together, they ran down the staircase, and out into the cool night air.

Vanessa reached for Patrick’s hand and took the key from him.

He let her, there was no resistance. She locked her fingers in his, and then they ran to the back of the house, across the grass and Vanessa’s toes soon bit into cold, gray sand.

She let go of Patrick and ran to the water’s edge, the vast horizon dark and ominous.