As Good as Dead: The Finale to A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder

There was a kind of thrill in it; watching someone when they didn’t know you were there. Invisible to them. Disappeared.

Ravi was walking up the drive to her house, and she at her bedroom window where she’d been for hours, watching. His hands were in his jacket pockets, his hair morning-messy, and a strange movement in his mouth like he was chewing the air. Or singing to himself. She’d never seen him do that before, never around her. This was a different Ravi, one who thought he was alone, unobserved. Pip studied him and all the subtle differences to the Ravi he was when he was around her. She smiled to herself, wondered what he was singing. Maybe she could love this Ravi just as much, but she’d miss that look in his eyes when he was looking back at her.

And then the moment was over. Pip faintly heard his familiar knock, long-short-long, but she couldn’t move, she needed to stay here and watch the drive. Her dad was here, he would let Ravi in. He liked his small moments of time alone with Ravi anyway. He’d make some sort of inappropriate joke, segue into a conversation about football or Ravi’s work experience, finishing off with an affectionate pat on the back. All while Ravi took off his shoes and neatly lined them up by the door, stuffing the laces inside too, with that special laugh he saved for her dad. That was it, what she wanted: to live those small, normal moments again. The scene would change, somehow, if she were there to disturb it.

Pip blinked, her eyes watering from staring too long at that spot on the driveway, the sun glaring through the window. She couldn’t look away; she might miss it.

She heard Ravi’s gentle tread up the steps, his clicking knees, and her heartbeat picked up. The good kind of fast heart, not like that other trigger-happy kind. No, don’t think about that now. Why did she have to ruin every nice moment?

‘Hello, Sarge,’ he said, the creaking sound of him pushing the door fully open. ‘Agent Ravi here, reporting for boyfriending duties.’

‘Hello, Agent Ravi,’ Pip said, her breath fogging up the glass in front of her. The smile was back, fighting her until she gave in.

‘I see,’ he said. ‘Not even a glance back, or one of your scornful looks. Not a hug, not a kiss. Not an Oh, Ravi, darling, you look devilishly handsome today and you smell like a spring dream. Oh, Pip, my dear, you are too kind to notice. It’s a new deodorant I’m trying.’ A pause. ‘No, but seriously, what are you doing? Can you hear me? Am I a ghost? Pip?’

‘Sorry,’ she said, eyes straight. ‘I’m just… I’m watching the driveway.’

‘You’re what?’

‘Watching the drive,’ she said, her own reflection getting in the way.

She felt a weight on the bed next to her, gravity pulling her towards him as Ravi lowered to his knees on the far side of the mattress, his elbows up on the windowsill and eyes to the glass, just as Pip was.

‘Watching for what?’ he said. Pip dared one fleeting look at him, at the sun lighting up his eyes.

‘For… for the birds. The pigeons,’ she said. ‘I’ve put bits of bread out there on the drive, in the same spot I found those pigeons. And I put little pieces of ham in the grass either side of the drive too.’

‘Right,’ Ravi said, drawing out the word, confused. ‘And why have we done that?’

She gave him a quick jab with her elbow. Wasn’t it obvious? ‘Because,’ she said, over-emphasizing the word, ‘I’m trying to prove Hawkins wrong. It can’t be a neighbour’s cat. And I’ve laid the perfect bait to test that. Cats like ham, don’t they? He’s wrong, I’m not crazy.’

The harsh light through the crack in her curtains had woken her earlier than she’d planned, pulling her out of the after-pill fog. This experiment had seemed a good idea at the time, on three hours’ sleep, although now, checking in with Ravi’s uncertain eyes, she wasn’t sure. Lost her footing again.

She could feel his gaze on her, warm against her cheek. No, what was he doing? He should be watching out for the birds, helping her.

‘Hey,’ he said quietly, his voice hovering just above a whisper.

But Pip didn’t hear what he said next, because there was a dark shape in the sky, a winged shadow growing on the drive below. Pip’s eyes caught it as it swooped down, landing on its twig legs and hopping over to the scattered bread.

‘No,’ she breathed out. It wasn’t a pigeon. ‘Stupid magpie,’ she said, watching as it scooped up a small square of bread in its beak, and then another.

‘One for sorrow,’ said Ravi.

‘We have plenty of that in Little Kilton already,’ Pip replied, as the bird helped itself to a third piece of bread. ‘Hey,’ she shouted suddenly, surprising herself too, banging on the window with her fist. ‘Hey, go away! You’re ruining it!’ Her knuckles hit against the glass so hard, she didn’t know which would crack first. ‘Go away!’ The magpie jumped into the air and flew off.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ Ravi said quickly, grabbing her hands away from the window, holding them tightly inside his grip. ‘Whoa, hey,’ he said, shaking his head at her. His voice hard, but his thumb soft as he ran it against her wrist.

‘Ravi, I can’t see the window, the birds,’ she said, straining her neck to try to look outside and not at him.

‘No, you don’t need to look outside.’ He tucked his finger under her chin, guided it back. ‘Look at me, please. Pip.’ He sighed. ‘This isn’t good for you. It really isn’t.’

‘I’m just trying –’

‘I know what you’re trying, I understand.’

‘He didn’t believe me,’ she said quietly. ‘Hawkins didn’t believe me. No one believes me.’ Not even her sometimes, a new wave of doubts after her dream last night, wondering again whether it was possible she was doing this to herself.

‘Hey, that’s not true.’ Ravi held her hands even tighter in his. ‘I believe you. I will always believe you, whatever it is. That’s my job, OK?’ He held her eyes, and that was good because hers suddenly felt wet and heavy, too heavy to hold alone. ‘It’s me and you, trouble. Team Ravi and Pip. Someone left those birds for you, and the chalk, you don’t have to try prove otherwise. Trust yourself.’

She shrugged.

‘And Hawkins is an idiot, frankly,’ Ravi said with a small smile. ‘If he hasn’t learned by now that you’re – annoyingly – always right, then he never will.’

‘Never,’ Pip repeated.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ he said, drawing lines in the valleys between her knuckles. ‘Everything will be OK, I promise.’ He paused, staring at the space below her eyes a little too long. ‘Did you get much sleep last night?’

‘Yes,’ she lied.

‘Right.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘I think we need to get you out of the house. Come on. Up, up. Socks on.’

‘Why?’ she said, sinking into the bed as Ravi got off.

‘We’re going out for a walk. Oh, what a fantastic idea, Ravi, you’re so smart and handsome. Oh, Pip, I know I am, but do try to keep it in your pants, your father is downstairs.’

She threw a pillow at him.

‘Come on.’ He dragged her out of bed by her ankles, giggling as she and the duvet slid to the floor. ‘Come on, Sporty Spice, you can put your trainers on and run circles around me if you really want.’

‘I already do,’ Pip quipped, fighting her feet into a pair of discarded socks.

‘Ooohhhh, sick burn, Sarge.’ He clapped her on the backside as she stood up. ‘Let’s go.’

It worked. Whatever Ravi was doing, it worked. Pip didn’t think about disappearing or dead birds or chalk lines or DI Hawkins, not on the way down the stairs, not when her dad stopped them to ask her where all the wafer-thin ham had gone, not even as they walked down the driveway, Ravi’s fingers hooked on to her jeans, heading for the woods. No pigeons, no chalk, no six gunshots disguised in the beating of her heart. It was just the two of them. Team Ravi and Pip. No thoughts beyond the first inane things that came into her head. No deeper, no darker. Ravi was the fence in her head that kept it all back.

A grumpy-faced tree that she insisted looked like Ravi when he woke up.

Planning when he would first come to stay with her in Cambridge; maybe the weekend after Freshers’ Week? Was she nervous to go? What books did she still need to buy?

They followed the winding path of the woods. Ravi recreating their first walk together through these same trees, a high-pitched impression of Pip as she took him through her initial theories on the Andie Bell case. Pip laughed. He’d remembered almost every word. Barney had been with them on that first walk, a golden flash through the trees. Herding them together. Tail wagging as Ravi had teased him with a stick. Thinking back on it now, maybe that was the moment Pip knew. Had it been a tightening in her gut, or maybe that drunk feeling behind the eyes, or could it have been that glow below her skin? She hadn’t realized it at the time, hadn’t known what it was, but maybe some part of her had already decided she would love him. Right then. In a conversation about his dead brother and a murdered girl. It all came back to death, in the end. Oh, there you go, she’d gone and ruined it. The fence was down.

Pip’s attention was drawn up and away as a dog from here and now crashed through the undergrowth towards them, barking as it jumped up to plant its paws on her legs. A beagle. She recognized this dog, just as he had recognized her.

‘Oh no,’ she muttered, giving him one quick stroke, as the other sound reached them: a double set of footsteps through the early fallen leaves. Two voices she knew.

Pip stopped as they walked around a knot of trees and finally came into view.

Ant-and-Lauren, arm in arm. Eyes widening in unison when they realized who she was.

Pip didn’t imagine it. Lauren actually gasped, coughing into her hand to cover it. They stopped too. Ant and Lauren over there, Pip and Ravi back here.

‘Rufus!’ Lauren screamed, her wild voice echoing through the trees. ‘Rufus, come here! Get away from her!’

The dog turned and tilted his head.

‘I’m not going to hurt your dog, Lauren,’ Pip said, levelling her voice.

‘Who knows, with you,’ Ant said darkly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

‘Oh, come on,’ Pip sniffed. One part of her itched to stroke Rufus again, just to really set Lauren off. Go on, do it.

It was as though Lauren had read her mind and the glint in her eye. She screamed for the dog again until he bounded back over to her on his unsure little legs.

‘No!’ Lauren turned her voice on him now, giving him a one-fingered tap on the nose. ‘You don’t go up to strangers!’

‘Ridiculous,’ Pip said, with a hollow laugh, swapping a look with Ravi.

‘What was that?’ Ant barked, straightening up. Pointless, really because Pip was still taller than him; she could take him. She already had once before, and she was stronger now.

‘I said that your girlfriend was ridiculous. Should I repeat it a third time?’ she said.

Pip could feel Ravi’s arm tensing against hers. He hated confrontation, hated it, and even so, Pip knew he would go to war for her if she ever asked. She didn’t need him now though, she had this. Almost like she’d been waiting for this encounter, felt herself coming alive with it.

‘Well, don’t talk about her like that.’ Ant brought his hands back out, flexed them at his sides. ‘Why haven’t you gone to uni yet? Thought Cambridge started earlier.’

‘Later, actually,’ Pip said. ‘Why, are you waiting for me to… disappear?’

She studied their faces carefully. The wind whipped Lauren’s red hair across her forehead, strands catching across her narrowed eyes. She blinked. One side of Ant’s mouth pulled up in a sneer.

‘The fuck are you talking about?’ he said.

‘No, I know.’ Pip nodded. ‘You must feel really embarrassed. You accused me, Connor and Jamie of orchestrating his disappearance for money, just hours after we all found out a serial rapist walked free. Are you the ones who spoke to that reporter? I guess it doesn’t matter any more. And now Jamie’s alive but another man is dead, and you must feel really quite stupid about the whole thing.’

‘Deserved to die though, didn’t he, so I guess it all worked out nicely in the end.’

He winked.

He fucking winked at her.

The gun was back in Pip’s heart, pointing through her chest at Ant. Backbone curling and her teeth bared. ‘Don’t you ever say that again,’ she pushed the words through her teeth, dark and dangerous. ‘Don’t you ever say that in front of me.’

Ravi re-took her hand, but she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t in her body any more, she was standing over there, that same hand around Ant’s throat. Tightening, tightening, squeezing it all out into Ravi’s fingers.

Ant seemed to sense this, taking one step back from her, almost tripping over the dog. Lauren hooked her arm through Ant’s again and locked their elbows together. A shield. But that wouldn’t stop Pip.

‘We used to be friends. Do you really hate me enough to want me to die?’ she said, the wind carrying her voice away from her.

‘What the fuck are you on about?’ Lauren spat, drawing more strength from Ant. ‘You’re a psycho.’

‘Hey,’ Ravi’s voice floated in from somewhere beside her. ‘Come on now, that’s not nice.’

But Pip had an answer of her own. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘So, you should make sure your doors are locked up real nice and tight at night.’

‘OK,’ Ravi said, taking charge. ‘We’re going this way.’ He pointed beyond Ant and Lauren. ‘You go that way. See you around.’

Ravi led her off-path, his fingers tight around hers, anchoring her to him. Pip’s feet were moving, but her eyes were on Ant and Lauren, blinking the moment they passed, shooting them with the gun in her chest. She watched over her shoulder as they moved away through the trees, in the direction of her house.

‘My dad said she was fucked up now,’ Ant said to Lauren, loud enough for them to hear, turning back to meet Pip’s eyes.

She tensed, her heels turning in the crisped-up leaves. But Ravi’s arm folded around her waist, holding her into him. His mouth brushing the hair at her temple. ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘You’re OK. They aren’t worth it. Really. Just breathe.’

So, she did. Concentrated only on air in, air out. One step, two step, in, out. Every step carrying her further away from them, the gun retreating back into its hiding place.

‘Should we go home?’ she said when it was gone, between breaths, between steps.

‘No,’ Ravi shook his head, staring straight ahead. ‘Forget about them. You need some fresh air.’

Pip circled his hot palm with her trigger finger, one way then the other. She didn’t want to say, but maybe there was no such thing in Little Kilton. No fresh air. It was all tainted, every breath of it.

They looked both ways and crossed the road to her house, the sun finding them again, warming their backs.

‘Anything?’ Pip smiled at Ravi.

‘Yes, anything you want,’ he said. ‘This is a full-on cheer-up Pip day. No true crime documentaries, though. Those are banned.’

‘And what if I said I really wanted a Scrabble tournament?’ she said, sticking her finger through his jumper into his ribs, their steps winding in and out of each other’s clumsily across the drive.

‘I’d say, Game on, bitch. You underestimate my pow—’ Ravi stopped suddenly, and Pip collided into him. ‘Oh fuck,’ he said, little more than a whisper.

‘What?’ she laughed, coming round to face him. ‘I’ll go easy on you.’

‘No, Pip.’ He pointed behind her.

She turned and followed his eyes.

There, on the driveway, beyond the pile of breadcrumbs, were three little chalk figures.

Her heart turned cold, dropped into her stomach.

‘They were here,’ Pip said, letting go of Ravi’s hand and darting forward. ‘They were just here,’ she said, standing over the little chalk people. The figures had almost reached the house now, scattered in front of the potted shrubs that lined the left side. ‘We shouldn’t have left, Ravi! I was watching. I would have seen them.’ Seen them, caught them, saved herself.

‘They only came because they knew you weren’t here.’ Ravi joined her, his breath fast in his chest. ‘And those definitely aren’t tyre marks.’ This was the first time he’d seen them. Time and rain had taken the last ones away before she’d had a chance to show him. But he could see them. He saw them and that made them real. She hadn’t made them up, Hawkins.

‘Thank you,’ Pip said, glad that he was here with her.

‘Looks like something out of the Blair Witch,’ he said, bending to get a closer look, drawing the criss-cross shapes with his finger, hovering a few inches above.

‘No.’ Pip studied them. ‘This isn’t right. There’s supposed to be five of them. There were five both other times. Why three now?’ she asked of Ravi. ‘Doesn’t make sense.’

‘I don’t think any of this makes sense, Pip.’

Pip held her breath, scouring the driveway for the two lost figures. They were here, somewhere. They had to be. Those were the rules in this game between her and them.

‘Wait!’ she said, catching something in the corner of her eye. No, it couldn’t be, was it? She stepped forward, up to one of her mum’s potted plants – pots come all the way from Vietnam, can you believe? – and brushed the leaves aside.

Behind it, against the wall of her house. Two little headless figures. So faint they were hardly there at all, hidden almost entirely among the mortar between the bricks.

‘Found you,’ Pip said with an outward breath. Her skin was alive and electric as she pushed her face right up close to the chalk, some of the white dust scattering from her breath. But was she pleased or was she scared? She couldn’t, in this moment, tell the difference.

‘Up on the wall?’ Ravi said behind her. ‘Why?’

Pip knew the answer before he did. She understood this game, now that she was playing. She stepped back from the two headless figures, the leaders of their pack, and looked directly up, following their journey. They’d mounted the wall to climb, up past the study and up and up, towards her bedroom window.

The bones cracked in her neck as she turned back to Ravi.

‘They’re coming for me.’

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