Wilfred had knocked his big toe on the leg of a chair and there was blood all over the wall to wall carpet. He managed to stem the dripping of blood with a plaster and then noticed he had some blood on his arm. How on earth did that happen? He had stubbed his toe, not his arm!
The clean-up turned into a major event. If blood isn’t fairly quickly cleaned it can be difficult to get rid of in carpet. He kept dabbing it with wet towels. Goodness, there wasn’t that much but what a mess! Why his wife had to choose light grey carpet was anybody’s guess.
Eventually all was done to satisfaction. Tomorrow his wife would be returning from visiting her mother in a distant town. Hopefully things will have dried sufficiently for her not to notice.
Next time he stabs a “hospitality call girl” he’ll make sure he’s in the kitchen with a linoleum floor.
Jude had not been brought up well. His father was an alcoholic; at least he was until he turned up to work drunk and “accidentally” fell down an elevator shaft. Jude’s mother was addicted to quinine and her kidneys had packed up and she too was dead.
Jude had an older sister who took over his care, but she was on drugs and got her drug money in the entertainment business. She worked from home.
When he was fourteen, Jude didn’t “discover” for he already knew, but “realized” that there were easier ways to make money than to work. He’s made a few contacts via some of his sister’s clients. He looked a lot older than fourteen. School had long gone down the drain. He worked as a pimp with the occasional bit of burglary thrown in for luck.
Then his big break came. One of his sister’s ex-clients said he’d give Jude ten thousand if he did his sister in. Jude said he would but what way was it to be done? The guy said he didn’t care, so Jude got a gun and shot his sister dead point blank. It was all pretty easy.
When Jude went to get his money the ex-client turned him in. “This guy murdered his sister.”
Jude got life. The ex-client got off scot-free. He was clever like that.
Belinda had left school early; for reasons that will possibly become apparent as the story progresses.
Quite frankly, she needed the money. She had seen the women “working the street corners” and it struck Belinda as something that suited both her inclination and her experience. She applied for the job when a vacancy became available, and she got it. “The only thing you have to improve upon,” said the man doing the interviewing, “is the suntan. Try and get a decent suntan all over. You look quite pasty and not as vibrantly healthy as the other employees.”
Belinda faced a problem. How was she to get a suntan “all over” when she lived slap-bang in the middle of a densely populated sector of the city? There must be a way. And then she saw it! It was a book, and would undoubtedly be the first book she had read in a long long time. The book was purchased.
It was called – perhaps you know it? – Five Secrets to Baking like a Pro.