When She Was Good by Robotham Michael

Author:Robotham, Michael [Robotham, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thriller, Suspense
ISBN: 9780751573480
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2020-07-27T14:00:00+00:00

35

Evie

Guthrie is on the warpath because someone has tampered with his phone. He’s convinced that I’m to blame, but he can’t prove anything, and that makes him even angrier. Right now, he’s complaining that his phone is possessed and ‘has a mind of its own’.

Ruby and I are hiding in my room, playing our version of Scrabble (we hand-pick our tiles to make the filthiest words). Nathan pokes his head around my door. He has a pimple on his forehead just waiting to be popped.

‘How did you do it?’ he asks.

‘Auto-correct.’

‘You got hold of his mobile.’

‘Obviously.’

‘It was unlocked?’

‘He doesn’t use a passcode.’

‘People that stupid don’t deserve a phone.’

‘Agreed.’

The plan went down at breakfast when Guthrie was tucking into a full English. Ever since his wife kicked him out, Guthrie has been eating most of his meals at Langford House; another reason he’s getting so fat. This morning, Ruby ‘accidentally’ spilled a full mug of tea into his lap. While Guthrie was dancing around, calling her names, she palmed his phone from the table and slipped it to me.

I waited until he went to the staff bathroom to sponge off his trousers. Then I opened his phone and changed his auto-correct settings, altering a few common phrases. If he typed the words ‘I want’ in any context, it would instantly change to: ‘I want to sleep with your sister’. The sentence, ‘I’ll be home’ was completed by: ‘when I’ve had a blowjob from your mother’. ‘Office’ became ‘brothel’. ‘Dinner’ became ‘your shit cooking’. And ‘I love you’ changed to ‘I was a dickhead for marrying you’.

By the time Guthrie got back to his breakfast, his phone was on the table and he was none the wiser until he started sending text messages. I couldn’t be completely sure the prank would work but I was pretty confident because Guthrie is one of those ‘two-thumb’ texters who never look at the screen when they’re typing.

It took most of the day before the shit hit the fan. Guthrie has gone nuclear. We can hear him pleading to his wife on the phone, saying, ‘It’s not me, baby, I promise, you … No, of course not. You’re much prettier than your sister … No, never, I swear … I would never say that about your mother.’

I laugh so hard a little bit of wee comes out.

‘Shhhh, he’s coming,’ says Nathan, who has been acting as our look-out. He scurries back to his room and Ruby begins studying her Scrabble tiles.

Guthrie arrives. ‘It was you!’

‘What?’

‘You sabotaged my phone.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

He’s standing over me with spit flying from his mouth. ‘You fuck with me and I’m going to fuck you right back.’

‘Is that allowed?’ I ask. ‘Fucking, I mean. Duty of care, and all that. You’re an adult, I’m a minor. You are supposed to keep me safe and protect me from sexual, physical and emotional harm. I have the right to be treated with respect and dignity.’

For a moment, I think Guthrie’s head might take off and fly around the room like a farting balloon.

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