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I decided to go to Kimberley's to tell her. I couldn't bring her to mine of course because Michelle was there. Poor Shell has a cold so she's parked on the sofa for now. But I arrived at her door, and she said 'Ah, good sir, I bid you welcome.' In a way that made me want to knock her teeth out one by one. But I stepped inside. I had on my poker face. After all these years I was still an actor, and I could conceal my true intentions for as long as I needed. I was the powerful one, not her!

I didn't bother asking her for a drink, but she surprised me by pouring two glasses of wine. I hate wine but I needed some alcohol in me. So she sat down on her ridiculously ostentatious sofa and asked what I had to tell her. She winked on the word 'tell'. 

So I explained to her abut having to fire Andrew Frances.I didn't want to do it, I explained, because he was a nice boy and a good worker. But I'd been a bad mood. I was being blackmailed by her, for Christ's sake. Kimbo was still sat there anyway, drinking her wine. So I went on to tell her about why Andrew had been fired. Apart from my bad mood, there was significant evidence against him, for example his persistant lateness and lack of focus on his work on occassion. 

Kimbo starts to say, 'Well what in bleeding hell does this have to do with me?' So I explain. On this particular day, Andrew had enlightened me about the most recent crisis with his mother. Something about her social worker offering her drugs and trying to coerce her into sexual relations for a joke. And immediately I thought, Now who do I know in this line of work that would be so backstabbing, conniving and evil? 

Kimberley looked shocked and gulped the rest of her wine, about to protest. I stopped her. I said that I had left the matter alone because there was absolutely no proof - just the word of a madwoman who was probably completely laddered at the time anyway. Or so I thought. Later on after work I found myself at a car boot sale looking for books to give to michelle to read. I picked up about half a dozen and flicked through them on the walk home. Then I discovered that one of these books wasn't a book at all. It was the secret diary of the deceased Dylan Dwight. His parents had been running the stall and must not have realised what it was.

Kimberley was beginning to look sick at this point. Good. I continued to reveal what I'd found from reading the diary. Kimbo was lying when she told me she didn't know Dylan Dwight. They knew each other very well, in fact. I should have known I wasn't the first. In fact, one evening in March of two years ago, Dylan reported that Kimbo came to his house and did damn near the same things she did to Andrew's poor mother. And like me, Dylan was blackmailed into silence.

I told her, 'Kimberley, you're in a lot of trouble. Now I'm in control. You will never tell me what to do ever again, in fact.' She just leapt off the sofa, screaming that I was lying and she'd come round my house and set fire to the place. But I'd truly had enough at this point. Her house is in the middle of nowhere, and her tricks were used up. She's just a woman. I have many things over that treacherous snake and one of them is physical strength. So I stormed over there and hit her. Hit her many times. Of course she tried to hit me off and bite me, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She was afraid of me. And it felt fantastic. And I wrestled her to the floor and I took what I wanted.

She deserved it.

The End

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