English Rose ( Part 1)

The room had two chairs and a table between them. Apart from that it was empty.

Two men entered the room. Each took a chair and sat down. The bigger of the two men was holding a pad and paper. He looked across the desk and spoke.

“So Jim, tell me the whole story. From the beginning.”

Jim was relaxed. He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

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“I’m not quite sure when it all started. Sometime in the summer of 2008 I suppose. Wow, five years ago now. Where did all that time go?

I was early for an appointment with a prospective client, so I decided to have a coffee in a nearby café. The appointment was at 12.30 and I had half an hour to waste. It was an up market café, one of those places where you can’t just say you want a coffee. It has to be an Americano or latte or cappuccino or whatever bollocks they’re talking. Anyway, I was sitting down at a table nursing my three pound cup of java, when I heard a voice behind me.

“Excuse me sir, do you mind if I join you?”

I turned round expecting the voice to be aimed at someone else. But a young blonde haired girl was looking straight at me. She smiled.

“Err no, of course not.”

I stood up and moved the chair opposite out from under the table. She sat down.

“Thank you very much. I hate drinking coffee on my own. Do you work around here?”

She had sparkling blue eyes that were as big as her smile. Her complexion was pale, quite white in fact, which made a change from seeing all the London girls with their fake tans.

“No. You?”

I suppose I should have said more but I was still shocked at someone in central London wanting to talk to a complete stranger. It’s just not something that we do.

“No not me. Not yet anyway. But I’m hoping to. I’m going for a job interview in an hour not far from here. Do you think I’m suitably dressed for an interview?”

She stood up. She was wearing a white blouse with a short beige jacket over the top. Her skirt was mid length, just below the knee and she was wearing red flat shoes which matched her shade of lipstick. She looked gorgeous. In fact, stunning.
I sat back in my chair while she did a twirl in front of me. Here was a girl in her mid- twenties who I had known for just a few seconds doing a fashion show for me in the middle of an empty London café. Bizarre!

“You’ll knock them dead in that outfit. You look every bit the sophisticated London lady.”

She giggled and sat back down.

“So, enough about me. What do you do?”

I took a sip of my coffee and shrugged my shoulders.

“Not much. It’s really not that exciting. I’m a sales consultant for a stationery company. Well that’s my official title. The truth is I try to sell stationary items to people.”

Again she giggled.

“You weren’t joking were you? Sounds really boring.”

We both laughed. We’d known each other for just a few minutes but here we were laughing together as though we’d known each other for years.

“Can I get you another coffee?”

She shook her head.

“No thanks. Not unless they can put a brandy in it. I’m a bit nervous about the interview. “

I looked at my watch. It was 12.10.

“Look, there’s a pub next door. How about I buy you something to calm those nerves of yours?”

Her face lit up like a firework.

“Come on then. What we waiting for?”

She stood up, giggled and made her way to the door of the café. I followed, both of us giggling like a couple of kids.

The pub next door was called the Rose and Crown. I remember it because I thought that it was appropriate. She looked like a typical English rose.

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The bigger man stopped writing on his note pad. There was a silence. Jim was deep in thought.

“Jim, Jim, what happened in the pub?”

Jim seemed to snap out of his thoughts and continued.

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I asked her what she wanted to drink.

“Do you really want a brandy, or something else?”

“I’ve never even tasted brandy. It was just something I saw in a movie once. A woman ordered a Brandy and coffee. It seemed to go together so well. No, I’ll have a white wine please.”

I ordered a bottle of Sancerre and two glasses.

We took a table in the corner.

I poured out the wine. We chinked glasses. She drank down the glass in one go.

“Bloody hell. Thirsty?”

She threw her head back and roared with laughter.

“I needed that. So mister stationary man, what’s your name?”

“Jim. Jim Rogers. And you, miss interview lady, what’s yours?”

“Katherine. Katherine Weller. My friends call me Kathy. So you can call me Kathy as well.”

I poured out more wine.

“Cheers Kathy. Here’s to a successful interview.”

We stayed in the pub till three o’clock. I missed my appointment and she missed her interview. I called my boss and said I was sick and was going home. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the streets of London. We had dinner in an Italian restaurant in Covent Garden. I’d never been so happy. She made me feel alive. I can’t describe it. Up until that day I thought I had it all. Beautiful wife, two lovely kids, job, car, everything. But all that changed the day I met Kathy.

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“So how did the day end?”

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It was getting late. I suppose it was about ten o’clock. I had twenty missed calls on my phone. All from the wife. We were near Holborn Station. Kathy stopped walking and just stood there.

“Kathy, you okay?”

She looked at me. No, she stared at me. Then put her hands either side of my face and kissed me.

“Will you spend the night with me Jim? Please?”

The giggle had gone. Now there was a vulnerability about her that I’d not seen before. How could I resist her.

“Of course I will.”

We walked to a nearby hotel and I booked us in under the name of Mister and Mrs E.Rose.

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Again Jim stopped talking and seemed to be lost in deep thought.

“Jim. JIM.”

The bigger man had to shout to get Jim’s attention.

“So Jim. The big question is. If you were so in love with Kathy. Why did you kill her?”

“Because she asked me to.”