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The Barbecue

by Della Galton

I could see her in the garden, they were face to face, he was at the barbecue, and she was handing him a plate of meat and suddenly they were very close to each other, silhouetted against the rose pink sunset. Her mouth, that neat little red mouth, with lipstick that never smudged, was kissing distance from his.

And it hit me, standing at the kitchen window in that hot heartbeat of a moment that it was Louise. Had been Louise all along. That all the suspicion and sobbing I'd done at her penthouse flat had been just a mockery. She was the other woman.

I shivered in the kitchen coolness, I was behind glass in more ways than one. I was shocked into stillness.

My best friend since school, we'd been blood sisters from the age of seven. The moment is etched in my memory, like letters scratched in a mirror. The scratch of a needle stolen from my mother's sewing box, pin pricking our thumbs and pressing them together, two perfect drops of blood bonding our friendship for all eternity.

I imagine myself rushing out to the garden, wielding the knife I have come in to fetch. I imagine slipping it under her ribcage and into her heart, apparently it's not that painful being stabbed. It feels almost like a punch. The victim would hardly be aware until their legs buckled and their eyes glassed over, as the life slipped away.

I bet there would be a lot more than two drops of blood though.

I won't do it of course. We are too civilised, we will talk, I will sob some more, she will apologise. The terrible wrenching pain of losing them both will be far worse than the icy stab of a knife.

Slowly, I walk out across our perfect lawn, to my imperfect husband and my imperfect friend and something of what I feel must show in my face because they both look at me in shock.

"Carol," he says.
"Carol," she echoes, "Are you OK?"
"Can I get you anything?" He touches my arm in a soft Judas touch of betrayal.
"What I would like is the truth," I say, aware only of their faces, crimson with guilt, and the reflections of sunset that turn our patio the deep red colour of blood as the light fades from the day.