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ME: Oh, right, yes. Right you are. She was late home. I was watching the telly when she came in. She was soaking wet, said could I give her a lift and help her start the car, so I did. It was just the battery.
HS: And how would you describe your manner that evening? With your wife?
ME: My manner? Erm… I suppose I might have been a bit off with her, yes, I think I was, but you know what it’s like, long day, getting near the end of the week, last thing I needed, like.
HS: (Pause) So you helped her start the car?
ME: Like I said.
HS: And then?
ME: And then nothing. There was nothing in for tea so she said she’d go to the chippy. (Pause) I should’ve gone. I should’ve gone but I didn’t. I let her go.
HS: Can you remember which car she used?
ME: Which car? (Pause) She’d have taken mine, yes, she would have done, because she drove mine back after we started hers, so she’d have parked it behind hers and I definitely didn’t go out and swap them or anything because it was bucketing down. (Pause) I should’ve gone for the chips, though. She never seemed like she minded, Rachel. But I knew that about her and I let her do it anyway. Just because someone’s willing to do anything for you doesn’t mean you should let them, does it? I suppose my mum did everything around the house when I was growing up, but that’s no excuse, I don’t even know why I said that, sorry. I… I know the change is a difficult time. I could hear her up and about in the night, and I did see her having one of them hot flush things, but she didn’t really talk about it. I should’ve thought of ways to make life a bit easier, tried to cheer her up, like. But I couldn’t take her out for a meal or anything. I couldn’t take her out full stop, to be honest. What would we have said to each other? I had nothing to say to her. (Breaks down)
HS: For the benefit of the tape, PC Button is handing Mr Edwards a tissue. Mr Edwards, if we can just reach for the facts, as you see them. Where were you that evening?
ME: (Pause) At home. Ask our Katie. Ingrid called round to ask about something. Some pretext or other. But she only stepped in for a few minutes. Actually, she could tell you I was home. Then about half an hour later, Rachel got back from the chippy.
HS: And can you describe her state of mind?
ME: She was… she was angry. She seemed really angry. She was slamming around, making snippy comments. I tried to ask her if she was OK, but she didn’t even eat her tea with us, which is unheard of. She went up for a bath, said she needed to chill out. So I let her. I didn’t know what she wanted half the time. She just seemed furious. I told myself it was hormones, but it was more. I knew it was more. What is this anyway? Why are you asking about that Thursday? Was there another attack I don’t know about?
HS: Did you notice any injuries on your wife?
ME: No. Why? What’s this about?
HS: Did you notice that her knuckles were bleeding?
ME: What? No!
HS: Did you go out later that night?
ME: No.
HS: Are you sure?
ME: Yes. No. Hang on. I might have done. I don’t keep a diary. Why?
HS: Can you tell us where you went?
ME: Why? Why do you need to know?
25
Rachel
The next day, there was nothing for me to print off, not even in the nationals. But the day after, it took me only two seconds to find my chap. It was the Saturday, 6 July, and for the second time that week, my blood froze in my veins.
Homeless man found unconscious outside cemetery gates
A homeless man was found fighting for his life near St Michael’s church on Thursday evening at approximately 10 p.m. Police have told theWeekly Newsthat the man was found collapsed near the cemetery. He had vomited and was struggling to breathe. No further details have been released at this time. A spokesman for Merseyside Constabulary has appealed for witnesses to come forward.
‘Oh my God,’ I whispered. Because I think that up until then, I’d held on to the remote possibility that nothing had happened.
I sent the article to the printer, ran to the cupboard under the stairs and grabbed my bag off the hook. The knife was still in it – in its sheath. My heart lurched into my mouth, but honestly? I couldn’t remember whether I’d taken it out after I’d seen it the first time. I remembered finding the sheath in the cutlery drawer, but it looked like I’d slipped the knife into it and put the whole kit and caboodle in my bag. But that was OK, I told myself, making myself think it through calmly. I hadn’t taken my bag out with me to the chippy, just shoved some cash in my pocket. I was sure of that.
