and yanked her back up before she hit the ground.
'Careful!' she laughed as she struggled to stay standing like a bad ice skater.
Josie and Shona were as close as sisters. They'd met at school three years ago and, both being only children, had quickly become inseparable. They spent almost all of their free time together and often slept over at each other's house. Last summer Josie had even spent a fortnight in Spain with Shona and her family. Nothing was allowed to come between them, not even boys.
'I heard that Dayne was round Phillipa's house last night,' Shona said, suddenly remembering a vital piece of gossip she'd heard on the way home from school. 'She's a dirty tramp that Phillipa.'
Josie stopped walking.
Shona carried on for a few seconds, oblivious.
'Danni said she saw her with her hands down...'
When she realised she was on her own she stopped, turned round and looked at her friend.
'What's the matter with you?' she asked. Josie didn't answer. 'Come on you silly cow, the others will have gone if we don't get a move on.'
Still Josie didn't move. She simply stood and stared at Shona who, not understanding her friend's behaviour, turned round again and continued walking towards the shops and the group of girls from school they'd arranged to meet there.
Josie broke into a sudden sprint. She ran directly at Shona and shoved her in the back between her shoulder blades, knocking her off her feet and down into the long wet grass. She tried to stand but before she could get up Josie kicked her in the stomach. She rolled her over onto her back and whined in pain.
'What the hell are you doing, you silly bitch?'
Josie didn't answer. Instead she simply dropped her knees onto Shona's exposed chest, forcing every scrap of air from her lungs. Shona gagged with surprise and shock as she struggled to breathe in. Stunned and wide-eyed she stared into Josie's face.
'Why did you…?' she began to say. Josie wasn't listening. She'd found a stone half-buried in the mud and grass nearby and was desperately digging her fingers around its edge, trying to pull it out of the ground. Panting with effort she picked up the heavy, brick-sized rock and held it high above her head.
'Josie, don't…' Shona whimpered.
Holding it with both hands, Josie brought the stone crashing down on her friend's chest. She felt her ribs crack and splinter under the force of the undefended impact. In too much sudden pain to scream, Shona groaned in agony and watched helplessly as Josie lifted the stone again and brought it down on her for a second time. She hit her with such savage force that a broken rib punctured one of her lungs. Her breathing became erratic and rasping, then desperately shallow and forced. Her shattered rib cage began to move with sudden, juddering movements as her damaged body struggled to continue to function.
Josie leant down over her dying friend and looked deep into her face. Her skin was ghostly white, smeared with splashes of mud and dribbles of blood which now gurgled and bubbled from the corners of her mouth. Her dark, panic-filled eyes began to glaze over and lose their focus. She was aware of Josie lifting the stone again, but nothing more.
She knew that her friend was dead but Josie had to be certain. She smashed the rock into her face, breaking her left cheekbone and almost dislocating her jaw. Exhausted with effort she rolled away from the corpse and sat panting on the wet grass nearby.
Josie stared at the sprawling dark shadows of the town below her. She couldn't go down there now. She couldn't go home either. She didn't know where she was going to go or what she was going to do. Maybe she could just stay in the park and hope no-one comes looking, she thought. Either that or she'd have to take her chances and just run.
She hadn't had any choice. She'd had to kill Shona. She felt no guilt or remorse for what she'd done, just relief.
4
We're out. We've escaped. For the first time in months Lizzie and I have managed to get away from the house together without any of the children in tow. I can't remember the last time we were out together like this. The fact that we're crammed into a small, dark and sweaty concert hall with six or seven hundred other people doesn't seem to matter. The gig hasn't even started yet but the background music is already deafening and the lighting is virtually non-existent. The chances of us actually managing to speak to each other are slim.
'Doesn't feel right, does it?' Liz shouts at me. She has to lift herself up onto tiptoes to yell into my ear.
'What doesn't?' I shout back.
'Not having the kids here. I'm not used to it. I keep looking round expecting to see at least one of them.'
'Make the most of it,' I tell her. 'How long's it been since we went out together on our own?'
'Months,' she screams, struggling to make herself heard over the noise.
The conversation is over quickly. The effort of having to yell at each other is already making my throat sore and the gig hasn't even started yet. I watch the stage as roadies and other crew members check the lights, the sound and the instruments. How long does it take them to get ready? They seem to have been setting things up for ages, there can't be long left to wait now. Someone's going round putting towels and drinks down and gaffer-taping set lists to the floor.
Christ, what was that? Something hit me from the side and I'm down on the floor before I know what's happened. I try to stand up quickly, my heart thumping in my chest. Liz grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. I don't want any trouble tonight. I'm not good at dealing with confrontation. I really don't want any trouble.
'Sorry, mate,' an over-excited and half-drunk fan shouts at me. He's holding two (now) half-empty drinks in his hands and I can tell from his blurred and directionless eyes that he's off his face on drugs or booze or both. We're standing close to the mixing desk and there's a carpet-covered bump running along the floor next to us which protects the power cables I think. Looks like this idiot has tripped up the step and gone flying. He mumbles something about being sorry again and then staggers off deeper into the crowd.
'You all right?' Liz asks, wiping splashes of drink from my shirt.
'Fine,' I answer quickly. My heart's still beating at ten times its normal speed. Relieved, I pull Lizzie towards me and wrap my arms around her. Having her next to me makes me feel safe. It's not often we're able to be this close anymore. That's the price you pay for having too many kids too quickly in a flat that's too small. Funny how we can stand in a room with the best part of a thousand strangers and have less chance of being interrupted than at home with just three children.
Lizzie turns round and lifts herself up onto tiptoes to speak to me again.
'Think Dad's okay?' she asks.
'Why shouldn't he be?' I yell back.
'I worry that he thinks we're taking advantage of him. He's already there looking after Josh most days now and he's there again tonight with all three of them. It's a lot to ask. He's not getting any younger and I think he's starting to get fed up of it.'
'I know he is. He had a go at me before we left.'
'What did he say?'
How much do I tell her? Harry and I don't get on but we try and stay civil for Lizzie's sake. He was not at all happy tonight but I know he wouldn't want Lizzie to worry about it.
'Nothing much,' I answer, shrugging my shoulders, 'he just grumbled something about him seeing more of the kids than I do. He made some bad joke about Josh calling him Daddy instead of me.'
'He's trying to wind you up. Just ignore him.'
'He's always trying to wind me up.'
'It's just his age.'
'That's a crap excuse.'
'Just ignore him,' she says again.
'It doesn't bother me,' I shout, lying and trying to save her feelings. The truth is Harry is seriously
