Read Online What Came Before He Shot Her by Elizabeth George - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth George
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what little powder was left. She rubbed it on her gums, to little effect. At this, she felt a hard hot stone start to grow larger in the middle of her chest. She
hated
being on the outside looking in, and that was where she was standing at the moment. It was also where she would continue to stand if she couldn’t join the girls in their high.
She turned to them. “You got weed, den?”
Six shook her head. She danced over to the karaoke machine and shut it off. Natasha watched her with glowing eyes. It was no secret that, two years younger, Natasha worshipped everything about Six, but on this particular morning, Ness found such idolatry annoying, especially stacked up with the part Nastasha had played in getting herself and Six supplied on the previous night, to the exclusion of Ness.
She said to Natasha, “Shit, you know wha’ you look like, Tash?
Lezzo, da’s what. You wan’ eat Six for
dinner
?”
Six narrowed her eyes at this, dropping down on the bed. She rooted through a pile of clothes on the floor, snagged a pair of jeans, and brought out a packet of cigarettes from one of the pockets. She lit up and said, “Hey, watch’r mouf, den, Ness. Tash’s all right.”
Ness said, “Why? You like ’t as well?”
This was the sort of remark that might have otherwise spurred Six to get into a brawl with Ness, but she was loath to do anything to disturb the pleasant sensation of being high. Besides, she knew the source of Ness’s displeasure, and she wasn’t about to be misdirected onto an unrelated topic because Ness couldn’t bring herself to say something directly. Six was a girl who didn’t communicate with others by using half measures. She’d learned to be direct from toddlerhood. It was the only way to be heard in her family.
She said, “You c’n be one of us wiv it or one of us wivout it. Don’t matter to me. ’S up to you. Me ’n’ Tash, we like you fine, innit, bu’ we ain’t changin our ways to suit you, Ness.” And then to Natasha, “You cool wiv dat, Tash?”
Natasha nodded although she hadn’t the slightest idea what Six was talking about. She herself had long been a hanger-on, needing to be pulled through life by someone who knew where she was going so that she—Natasha—never had to think or make a decision on her own.
Thus, she was “cool” with just about anything going on around her as long as its source was the current object of her parasitic devotion.
Six’s little speech put Ness in a bad position. She didn’t want to be vulnerable—to them or to anyone else—but she needed the other two girls for the companionship and escape they provided. She sought a way to reconnect with them.
She said, “Give us a fag,” and attempted to sound bored with the entire topic. “Too early for me anyways.”
“But you jus’ said—”
Six cut off Natasha. She didn’t feel like a row. “Yeah,” she agreed,
“too fuckin early.” She threw the cigarettes and the plastic lighter to Ness, who shook one out, lit up, and passed the packet and lighter to Natasha. A form of peace came among them with this, which allowed them to plan the rest of their day.
For weeks, their days had followed a pattern. Morning found them at Six’s flat, where her mother was gone, her brother was at school, and her two sisters were sometimes in bed and sometimes hanging about the flats of their three oldest siblings who, with their offspring, lived on two of the other estates in the area. Ness, Natasha, and Six would use this time to do each other’s hair, nails, and makeup and listen to music on the radio. Their day broadened after half past eleven, at which time they explored the possibilities up in Kilburn Lane, where they attempted to pinch cigarettes from the newsagent, gin from the off licence, used videos from Apollo Video, and anything they could get away with from Al Morooj Market. At all of this, they had limited success since their appearance on the scene heightened the suspicions of
hated
being on the outside looking in, and that was where she was standing at the moment. It was also where she would continue to stand if she couldn’t join the girls in their high.
She turned to them. “You got weed, den?”
Six shook her head. She danced over to the karaoke machine and shut it off. Natasha watched her with glowing eyes. It was no secret that, two years younger, Natasha worshipped everything about Six, but on this particular morning, Ness found such idolatry annoying, especially stacked up with the part Nastasha had played in getting herself and Six supplied on the previous night, to the exclusion of Ness.
She said to Natasha, “Shit, you know wha’ you look like, Tash?
Lezzo, da’s what. You wan’ eat Six for
dinner
?”
Six narrowed her eyes at this, dropping down on the bed. She rooted through a pile of clothes on the floor, snagged a pair of jeans, and brought out a packet of cigarettes from one of the pockets. She lit up and said, “Hey, watch’r mouf, den, Ness. Tash’s all right.”
Ness said, “Why? You like ’t as well?”
This was the sort of remark that might have otherwise spurred Six to get into a brawl with Ness, but she was loath to do anything to disturb the pleasant sensation of being high. Besides, she knew the source of Ness’s displeasure, and she wasn’t about to be misdirected onto an unrelated topic because Ness couldn’t bring herself to say something directly. Six was a girl who didn’t communicate with others by using half measures. She’d learned to be direct from toddlerhood. It was the only way to be heard in her family.
She said, “You c’n be one of us wiv it or one of us wivout it. Don’t matter to me. ’S up to you. Me ’n’ Tash, we like you fine, innit, bu’ we ain’t changin our ways to suit you, Ness.” And then to Natasha, “You cool wiv dat, Tash?”
Natasha nodded although she hadn’t the slightest idea what Six was talking about. She herself had long been a hanger-on, needing to be pulled through life by someone who knew where she was going so that she—Natasha—never had to think or make a decision on her own.
Thus, she was “cool” with just about anything going on around her as long as its source was the current object of her parasitic devotion.
Six’s little speech put Ness in a bad position. She didn’t want to be vulnerable—to them or to anyone else—but she needed the other two girls for the companionship and escape they provided. She sought a way to reconnect with them.
She said, “Give us a fag,” and attempted to sound bored with the entire topic. “Too early for me anyways.”
“But you jus’ said—”
Six cut off Natasha. She didn’t feel like a row. “Yeah,” she agreed,
“too fuckin early.” She threw the cigarettes and the plastic lighter to Ness, who shook one out, lit up, and passed the packet and lighter to Natasha. A form of peace came among them with this, which allowed them to plan the rest of their day.
For weeks, their days had followed a pattern. Morning found them at Six’s flat, where her mother was gone, her brother was at school, and her two sisters were sometimes in bed and sometimes hanging about the flats of their three oldest siblings who, with their offspring, lived on two of the other estates in the area. Ness, Natasha, and Six would use this time to do each other’s hair, nails, and makeup and listen to music on the radio. Their day broadened after half past eleven, at which time they explored the possibilities up in Kilburn Lane, where they attempted to pinch cigarettes from the newsagent, gin from the off licence, used videos from Apollo Video, and anything they could get away with from Al Morooj Market. At all of this, they had limited success since their appearance on the scene heightened the suspicions of
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