Page 135 of Dissection of a Murder
When I met Elise, it was off the back of sixteen years of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. I was out of control, and I liked destroying things as much as I hated it. I despised myself for the behavior but relished the power I finally felt. Elise was determined, headstrong, and ambitious, with aspirations to set the corporate world alight. She wanted respect, and like me, craved power—and was prepared to do anything to get it.
We both hated our fathers and had been made to feel worthless and undeserving of love. The shame we felt as a result manifested as destructive behavior toward ourselves and others. We had suffered for so long, we pretended we enjoyed it. We dressed it up as a sport, as fun. It was nothing but a cry for help.
It’s no coincidence we both ended up desperate to be professionally successful. In the absence of paternal validation, it was the next best thing and would surely prove to everyone—including ourselves—that we were, indeed, worth something.
But, as I have come to find out, it doesn’t work like that. Self-worth is an inside job.
Elise’s father had always made it impossible for anyone else in their family to rise to the top. He enjoyed making the rest of them feel small. She’d had enough of that life by the time I met her.
And so had I.
We both wanted more.
Her father was Queen’s Counsel and head of a set of chambers in Durham. I knew from the moment I met him when I was sixteen that I wanted what he had. Chester Vernon commanded respect, people listened to him, and so I became set on training to be a barrister. I wanted a taste of that deference.
She’d invite me to spend school holidays at her house. It was like nothing I’d seen before. They had acres of land.Staff.Chester gave me advice about what I needed to do to increase my chances of gaining pupillage. I made it clear I’d do anything to succeed. Anything.
He saw me as a tragic case; a poor, working-class orphan girl who was just trying to do well for herself against the odds.
Even intelligent men don’t know poison when they taste it.
It was in my final year at Cambridge that I suspected Chester wanted me. By law school, I was sure. It was an arduous task, titillating him for that long. But it was necessary. I had to make sure I succeeded. And so, for six months, I gave it to him in every filthy way he wanted.Rule #2.I became his fantasy, his addiction. I intoxicated him to the point where he would have done anything to get me into his chambers.
I never intended for Elise to find out, but Chester slipped up.
The ultimate betrayal. Not only did her best friend fuck her father, but Elise had to live with the fact that I received more love and validation from him than she ever had.
“I wasn’t the only person involved, Elise,” I tell her now.
“I haven’t spoken to my father since it happened. Too busy looking after my mother, who you destroyed. How is good old Chester, by the way? I hear his new child bride is pregnant?”
“It was fourteen years ago, Elise. And sometimes…”
“Oh, go on.”
“Sometimes, these things just happen,” I say, cringing once the words have left my mouth.
“Do you think I’m stupid? This was all part of your game. I was just a pawn to you. Right from the very beginning. You befriended me to get to my dad, to sleep your way into his chambers. And it worked. The only person you care about is yourself.”
Her words punch me in the chest. They aren’t true, either. Elise was my best friend. Yes, Chester became part of my plan, but that came later. It was never about him at the beginning, but there’s no point denying it. She knows too much of the bad parts of me for it to be worth trying to convince her of the good.
“You knew the rules. You used them just the same as I did,” I say, trying to stay calm. Yes, I’ve done terrible things. But Elise has, too. We did them together.
“My father!” she spits at me. “Because of you my family broke up!”
“Sorry, Elise, but knowing Chester the way I do—if it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. It probably already had been.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You think you’re cleverer than everyone else, don’t you?”
“Trust me, I don’t. And I am sorry. I am. I’m a different person now. I’m trying to be better.”
She laughs so hard, she has to turn away from me. It echoes around us in the darkness. The sound of it hurts my ears.
“You really believe that, don’t you? That you’re different?” She snorts.
“Who are you to decide whether I’ve changed or not? You know what your problem is, Elise?” I lean in toward her and, my voice almost a whisper, I say, “You just need to get over it.”
She’s caught off guard. Of all the things I could say in this moment, she didn’t expect those words.
