I’m telling you darling, it was dreadful, absolutely dreadful. I’d had such a frightfully hectic day. Shopping all morning and then lunch with Freddy. He’s such a dear. Have you seen him recently? He’s not the man he was. I blame that awful woman he’s got himself engaged to. Seems to be sucking all the fun out of him.
Then of course there were the text messages. Non-stop they were. All from him of course. I told him when he walked out on me there would be no coming back but he wouldn’t listen. He’s now finding that young tart of his more trouble than she’s worth. Begging me to take him back he was. Very maudlin and depressing. Once he started that silly talk of ‘ending it all’ and ‘life’s not worth living without you’ is when I finally switched my phone off. I told Freddy, it was the last thing I needed. I had the Johnson’s and the Peterson’s coming round for dinner that evening and I still hadn’t decided what dress to wear.
I must admit I stayed longer with Freddy than I meant to and probably drank more champagne than I should have. So you can imagine darling, by the time I got back to my flat it was getting late. That’s when I found him. Sprawled out in my favourite leather chair. That’s right darling, the new cream one. Any way, there he was, quite dead. His arm hanging down one side of the chair with his gun dangling from his fingers. The silly fool had shot himself in the head. Just above his right ear. The blood had started to congeal and was forming a bloodied crust over the opening. He didn’t look his best. Goodness knows where he’d got that shirt from. I certainly wouldn’t have let him wear it when he was with me.
As you can imaging darling, I was livid. There was blood and bits of his brain everywhere. All over the new rug and splattered up the wall. Goodness knows how long it will take to clean it all up. Of course my first thought was the Johnson’s and the Peterson’s. What was I going to tell them? In the end I had no choice but to phone and cancel dinner. I told them the dogs were not well. I know darling but it was the best I could think of in the circumstances.
The rest of the day was a blur. Those dreadful policemen were here for ages, taking photos and asking questions. I thought they’d never go. Fortunately Milo. You remember Milo don’t you darling? He’s that wonderful interior designer we met at the Longworth’s party last Christmas. Well, he was a dear and came round straight away. He’s got some fantastic ideas for keeping some of the blood stains on the wall and making them into a feature. He thinks he might even be able to do something bold with the bloodied rug as well. He’s talking about framing it and hanging it above the fireplace. I’m so excited. You must come over and see it all when he’s finished.
Well, it’s been lovely chatting to you darling but I must dash. It’s his funeral today. I wasn’t going to go. Had a week in Cannes planned while the work on the flat was being done. Then the dogs went down with something, poor things. So I had to cancel. Managed to find a lovely little black dress when I was out shopping yesterday and a beautiful hat. Seems a shame not to make use of them. Chow for now darling.