EPILOGUE

brENDA

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There’s been no snow yet this year and barely even a frost. Maybe it’s global warming, or maybe the climate is just being random, but so far, this festive period has been quite mild. But that mildness extends beyond the weather and into my personal life too because this year, for the first time in a while, I’m planning on it being a very calm Christmas.

It’s been two years since that first game of Secret Santa, the same year I discovered Michael and Nat’s affair before they both ended up dead beneath the tree. And it’s been one year since the last time I played that game, a year that proved to be just as eventful in the end.

So will I be partaking in a third consecutive game of Secret Santa as Christmas draws close once again? I give the answer to that question a few seconds after I have been asked it.

‘No, not this year,’ I say to Kirsty after she has entered my office to find out if I want any help organising the game. ‘I thought we could all do with a year off.’

‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Kirsty replies, looking relieved. ‘Any more dead bodies and us employees will be outnumbered by ghosts.’

I chuckle at the joke whilst at the same time feeling relief that if ghosts are real, they don’t seem to be frequenting this office. The reason for that relief is because I would most definitely be haunted by at least one ghost if their spirit chose to return from beyond the grave, and that would not be pleasant. It would also make my new job here a lot harder.

But it would probably be what I deserve.

‘I won’t take up any more of your precious time, boss,’ Kirsty says then with a smirk, the same smirk she always displays whenever she calls me the ‘B’ word.

I smile as she leaves, knowing full well that the pair of us will never truly get used to the fact that I am now her boss. But at least I’m a good boss, a fair one, and I like to think I’m everybody’s friend here. That’s important because I wouldn’t want any of my employees to hate me.

I certainly wouldn’t want any of them to kill me.

As I lean back in my chair, I think about the woman who sat here before me. It was Mariah, the woman who is no longer with us.

But she didn’t leave this company to take a job elsewhere.

She left this company in a coffin.

I gaze out over the streets of London and think about how cold the ground must be where Mariah’s body now lies in the cemetery. She was buried last January, a few weeks after she died, because it took extra time for the police to determine her cause of death. When they found out what killed her, they realised she had been murdered.

The only thing they are yet to find out is who did it.

The bottle of expensive white wine that Mariah found on her desk last year was from both me and Frank, her new man. We gave it to her, complete with poison inside, because we knew that once she drank it, she would be out of the picture, leaving the pair of us to not only continue our relationship but for him to hire me to take over her position.

Poison isn’t as hard to find as people might think. It certainly isn’t when a good friend comes to you and tells you where to get it. It was certainly a surprise when Kirsty told me she not only felt Mariah had used poison to kill Michael and Nat, but that she knew how to get it. But I had the feeling that rather than sharing this story out of concern, Kirsty was sharing it because she knew I needed help. She knew Mariah was dangerous and she knew I was possibly embroiled in something deadly with her.

Why did I kill Mariah? It’s simple. When I first realised Frank was getting close to Mariah, I offered him a quiet word of warning. I told him, despite what the police and everybody else thought, I knew who had murdered Michael and Nat. I told him I felt Mariah was a killer because he deserved to know. He deserved to know the danger he was putting himself in by being with her.

Not only did Frank thank me for such a warning, he started to spend a lot more time with me. Inviting me into important meetings, working late with me and offering to take me for a drink long after everyone else had gone home. The pair of us became close, and given what we both knew about Mariah, it didn’t take long for us to start plotting against her. Why wouldn’t we? If we were going to embark on an affair, surely it made sense to get rid of the woman who we both knew would kill us if she ever found out.

Frank would be safer if she was dead, and I certainly would be too. I didn’t like the idea of Mariah having a hold over me forever, but with her gone, I would be free. Free to work here without fear. Free to have a relationship with Frank. And free to one day assume her role and become joint boss at this company, with Frank alongside me once he promoted me.

Of course I felt bad. But whenever I did, I reminded myself that Mariah had admitted to me that she had been sleeping with Paul. She hurt me, so I hurt her back. Eye for an eye. Or, as it was Christmas, a gift for a gift.

Mariah drank that poisoned wine, died in her office, and Frank called the police when he discovered her body. When the police investigated who had sent the wine, all they discovered was that it had been posted to the office by an unknown person, meaning there was no way to trace who had sent it. All the receptionist could say was that she had taken delivery of a package for Mariah and had it put on her desk.

So far, Frank and I have gotten away with what we did. But I will not push my luck any more. Enough is enough now. I’ve got everything I need. The job. The man. The freedom.

There’s no need to disrupt any of it by taking a silly risk, or rather, playing a silly game.

There will be no more Secret Santa in this office on my watch.

There will definitely be no more secret gifts...