Die of Shame by Mark Billingham Read Free Book Online Page B

knows there’s little point. There will be no missed calls and no messages. She remembers one of her friends telling her once that teenagers were only a hair’s breadth away from being psychopaths. They were hard-wired to be selfish little bastards, the woman had said, and utterly without feeling for anyone but themselves. Her son, who was doing very nicely at Oxford thank you very much, had not called her in days, she told Diana.
Days
. Diana had smiled sympathetically and shaken her head, but something had tightened in her belly as she tried to remember her last conversation with Phoebe, how long ago that had been.
    An argument, that went without saying. Some hideous variation on the bloodletting they had been engaged in ever since the split. Her daughter had always been a daddy’s girl, but Diana had not been prepared for that kind of reaction.
    Maybe if you’d made a bit more effort.
 
    It’s because you’re so useless.
 
    You drove him away.
 
    Trying to stay calm as she watched the most precious thing she had left, the only thing, drifting from her grasp. Trying to explain that she hadn’t done anything, that for heaven’s sake, darling, he had been the one to have the affair.
    You didn’t leave him any choice
…
 
    Eighteen months now since her daughter had left home and she doesn’t even bother calling to ask Diana for money. She always goes straight to her father for that. Diana lies awake at night imagining Phoebe and her ex-husband talking about her. Phoebe and her ex-husband’s new girlfriend out shopping together. She lies awake and imagines all sorts of things.
    She turns the bedroom light off and smooths the duvet before closing the door behind her. She’s excited as always about the meeting, if a little scared, and it’s around now that, in another life, she might have poured herself a glass, just to steady her nerves. She smiles at that, as she passes the large mirror at the top of the stairs.
    She looks all right, she thinks. Bloody good for her age actually, and though Tony is far too professional to say anything, of course, she knows he thinks so too.
    She makes an effort because this is the thing she cares most about now. The group is not her life, she’s not melodramatic about it, but there isn’t much else that’s as important any more. She doesn’t want to waste time having lunch with friends who will ask how she’s doing without actually caring a great deal. The trips to the salons for hair and nails and feet are purely practical and the shopping gets her blood pumping a bit, that’s all, though she knows very well that she needs to cut back.
    At some point she needs to talk to Tony about that, one to one.
    When she gets near the front door, her two dogs come skittering out of the kitchen, yapping and hopeful. They haven’t had a walk in several days and Diana feels guilty. She can see that they’re putting on weight. It’s not her fault, she tells herself, because she always flags a little towards the end of the week, finds it harder and harder to drag herself out of the house.
    ‘Tomorrow,’ she says. ‘I promise.’
    The session always gives her a fresh burst of energy and hope. A shot of confidence way better than she ever got from red wine or vodka. ‘Silk purse,’ she says to herself as she sets the alarm. ‘Silk purse, silk purse, silk purse…’
    She’ll give the dogs a good long walk in the morning.
     
    Heather and Chris are smoking on the pavement outside Tony’s house. It’s drizzling, so they both have their hoods up; shoulders hunched, keeping faces and cigarettes out of the wind. A few cars slow down as they pass, the drivers taking a good hard look at them.
    ‘Checking to see we’re not undesirables,’ Chris says.
    Heather flicks her fag-end into the gutter. ‘We
are
undesirables.’
    ‘Speak for yourself.’ He waits for the next car to slow down then steps forward to give the driver the finger and laughs as he accelerates away. ‘Yeah, on