Shrewdness of Apes - a new novel by Roger Frederick

IF ONLY I’D STAYED HOME…

My life as a fugitive began at a beauty contest - the Miss Tampax Honey-Next-Door awards to be precise. Strange place for a person to begin a life of crime I know, but when I’d accepted my best mate’s Rocco’s invite, it never once crossed my mind that an evening spent watching over inflated egos and their poorly disguised cellulite strutting past would eventually lead to me becoming an international fugitive.

The irony was, I’d originally told him where to go when he suggested I come along as his plus-one. “Why the hell do I want to go to a modelling competition? It’ll just be a bunch of tossers who love themselves flouncing around. I’ll be bored to death.”

If only I’d stuck by that attitude and stayed home, then a 31 year old woman wouldn’t have been lying dead on her kitchen floor five months later. I wouldn’t have lost my job and my boyfriend and I wouldn’t have ended up on the run in Rome, implicating all my friends into a murder.

I guess you could say I’m the definition of a good girl gone bad. Back then, before my little ‘accident’, I was just your everyday nice girl with a dull job, a dull boyfriend and dull hobbies. I’d never so much as illegally parked my car. But I guess the criminal life changes you. You have to get very smart very quickly. And at the end of the day, what does ‘nice’ really get you?

Still, even now I like to think I’m more a victim of very unfortunate circumstance than the cold blooded killer type…

The cause of the whole problem came down to one man – Ed Western. Some people pass by, some people come into your life and change it for the better. And some people you just bitterly regret ever clapping eyes on. That’s how I feel about Ed.

I hadn’t been on the look out for someone new. I had the dull boyfriend didn’t I? Maybe that was the problem. The dull boyfriend made charmer Ed, with his Lotus Elise and his modelling agency look as appealing as a diamond bearing Brad Pitt.

There was just one slight downside, which, at the time, seemed to be nothing but a very minor inconvenience. Rose. The dowdy girlfriend – soon to be given the boot. No biggie you’d think. No, not until you find yourself staring down at her lifeless body, watching the blood spill from her head, wondering how the hell you’re going to get out of this one…

“So are you coming to this tampon thing?” Rocco had asked me down the phone on the afternoon of the event.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re gonna come. Come on J. What else you got planned? Another night listening to Pete complaining and watching telly? Trust me, this’ll be piss funny. Imagine some of the mingers that will enter! We’ll be able to take the piss constantly.”

Rocco was always getting rubbish tacky freebies through his job at the local paper, and I’d endured many a bubblegum pop concert and club opening as his guest. But this one… Something told me that anything sponsored by a tampon was probably best avoided.

But, he was right. What was my other option? Anything was better than sitting at home watching Pete channel surf. And whilst being a scathing, catty bastard wasn’t my absolute favourite thing in the world, it definitely held a special place in my heart. “Alright! But if it’s shit, I’m leaving you there.”

“I love you Joey!” he’d laughed. “Pick me up at half six. And hopefully I’ll pull the winner and I won’t be needing a lift home!”

It was every bit as bad as I’d imagined. For a start, it was being held in Coventry, which instantly suggested the quality we could hope for. On entering what I believe was a leisure centre, we were given a complimentary Kir Royale, which I suspected was actually made from cheap pomaine and Ribena.

The VIP table, which we were escorted to by a dollybird with ebay hair extensions and make up which appeared to have been applied with a trowel, looked like a paste table with a plastic cloth on.

“This is classy,” I told Rocco as we took our seats and waited for the ‘fun’ to begin.

Rocco was visibly more impressed. “I can’t wait to see Miss Birmingham,” he enthused as the lights went down. “I’ve heard she’s a proper dirty council bird!”

“Sounds delightful,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

As the first troop of wannabes strutted onto the stage, I remembered why it was I hadn’t wanted to come. I’d never seen so much false confidence in my life. It was like a bad Big Brother audition.

Miss Stoke had thighs like Jonah Lomu. Miss Rugby had a Bo Selecta face. And Miss Lincoln looked like Rowan Atkinson. Yet all of them believed that with the right ‘break’, they could be bigger than Madonna. It was painful. Mercifully, after swimwear, clubwear and a short lack-of-intelligence test, the lights went up and we were treated to a toilet and bar break.

“Hurry back for the second half,” the cheesy working men’s club style host informed us all “as we have none other than Chesney Hawkes joining us to perform his latest dance track!”

“Wicked!” Rocco cheered, standing up. “How cool is this?”

I stared at him blankly. “Positively baking?”

He stood up, grinning to himself. “Be back in ten. I’m just gonna see if I can find Miss Birmingham.”

I can see now, looking back, how my spirits had been crushed so desperately as to make Ed Western seem like a breath of fresh air, rather than the breath of exhaust fumes he turned out to be.

I was mindlessly chomping away at the slightly damp complimentary beef Hula-Hoops on the table when he’d wandered into my life.

“You look like I feel,” he sighed sympathetically.

I looked up slowly, preparing to deliver the customary ‘no thanks creep, do one’ speech. But as my eyes met his, I actually found myself smiling.

“I’m Ed,” he grinned, holding out his hand.

Ed was toned and tanned, with dark brown hair cut into a short messy crop. He was well dressed in a designer white shirt and a pair of very nicely cut black trousers that skimmed his tight little body in all the right places.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming over, but you looked like you needed some cheering up,” he smiled. God, he had the most gorgeous smile, made all the more adorable by the accompanying glint in his sexy blue eyes.

I grinned back. “I’m Joey. And yes I do. My mate has abandoned me for Miss Birmingham, these crisps taste like wet nappies, I’ve just consumed a drink which tastes like piss and Ribena – oh yeah, and I’m bored out of my mind.”

He laughed and sat down beside me. Normally I’d have been thoroughly uncomfortable with some guy just helping himself to a seat, but it was different with Ed. It helped that I really fancied him - he was confident and sexy – and I loved the fact that he threw compliments my way in just about every other sentence. Ok, I’m shallow - I know that. But after 26 years of dull, even the nicest of nice girls gets a craving for something more exciting when it presents itself.

But there was something about Ed that convinced me we were destined to meet. We just seemed to click, and as we chatted I felt like I’d simply bumped into an old friend. He was funny and charming, and he made me feel good about myself.

I think I could have stayed there all night, but our blatant flirting was suddenly interrupted by an announcement on stage. “And now, please welcome Miss Birmingham!”

We both looked up eagerly, but the stage remained empty.

“Miss Birmingham!” the compare announced again.

Still nothing.

“Erm, we seem to have mislaid Miss Birmingham!” he laughed nervously.

At that moment, I noticed Rocco’s still empty chair. Fucker had done it to me again. Story of our friendship to be honest. I got left to be verbally molested by losers in cheap Burton shirts while he got his trumpet polished by some dirty council slag in the goods entrance of Poundland. Still, at least it meant I wouldn’t have to give him a lift home.

And so it all went from there. We exchanged numbers, and as the days passed, the texts become more and more flirtatious. We talked about the problems we were having with our respective partners, and both decided we could do a lot better - with each other.

“I’ve made a decision,” he told me in an email two months after we’d met and a few days before Christmas. “I know it’s a bit soon, but I need to be with you Joey. I want you to hand in your notice at work and move in with me. Yes, I know it’s crazy, but it just feels right! I’ll even give you a job! Come on, what do you say? We’ll run away together for Christmas. I promise I’ll spoil you rotten – take you somewhere really gorgeous. Please! Give me a chance to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

It was a massive decision. Could I really give up everything for someone I’d only just met? But it was true – it did feel right. And what did I have to leave behind really?

That day, I made a decision to leave my life behind and enter an entirely new one. As a wanted criminal.