Extract From Notebook 4
I like your house, Nell. It’s the sort of house I might choose for myself if ever I decide to live in your part of London.
I don’t mind that it’s a terrace, with a house on either side.
Neighbors rarely get to know one another and you are no exception.
It’s a shame, because if you chatted to the people in your street, you might be a bit more au fait with what is happening right under your nose.
I like that your house has been extended to make a bigger kitchen.
There are no windows in your kitchen but I find the light well particularly useful.
If I stood at a window and looked in at you, you would see me in an instant.
But you rarely look up at the light well, so you don’t see me watching you as you make dinner. I can spend hours up there on the roof.
If you’ve had friends over and there’s wine left in the bottle, you’ll have a glass while you chop and slice and finish it sitting at the island.
Sometimes I look at the far end of the island and imagine cornering you there.
It would be an easy kill because once you’re there, there would be no way out.
But I’m hoping that when the time comes, killing you will be a little more exciting.
How does it feel to know that you’re going to die? In your heart, you must know that your death is imminent. Do you ever think about how it will happen, whether I’ll use my hands to snuff the breath from you or a knife to bleed you dry? Which would you prefer, I wonder?
Not that it matters. We’ll hardly be discussing ways to commit murder when I kill you.