Steam rose from the porcelain bathtub as Rita lay submerged with only her face above the waterline. She was staring into the abyss above, which currently took the form of the vanilla ceiling, but her gaze reached far beyond the pale PVC panels. Rita was looking into an uncertain future. Or, perhaps worse, a certain future that she wanted no part of. One without the world she’d meticulously built.

She could feel her heart beating a little too quickly in her chest at the daunting prospect. Her breasts joined her face above the waterline as her breathing intensified. Surely she wasn’t just about to have a panic attack?

A wall of muffled sound built around her ears, dulling everything except the thudding of her rapid heart and the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. Her heavy breaths sent the bathwater lapping against the side of her face as the steam continued to fog the bathroom mirror.

Rita felt ready to burst… until she regained control.

She took several deep breaths, sucking in the humid air before allowing herself to sink under the hot water. Rita lay perfectly still at the bottom of the tub. Eyes closed. Lips tight. Her heart slowly returned to its regular, dull rhythmic pattern. The anxiety was momentarily forgotten as she emptied her mind and thought about nothing, because nothing was a hell of a lot more comforting than what awaited her.

Rita wanted to remain immersed in the water for the rest of the day, but her problems couldn’t be solved at the bottom of a bathtub… not unless she opened her mouth and sucked in the bathwater, never to re-emerge. But she couldn’t do that to Mike or their young daughter. So Rita pushed herself upward and broke free of the water’s inviting hold.

✯✯✯

Mike was loading the washing machine when Rita trudged into the kitchen. She wore her normal dark jeans with a baggy hoodie that may have once been his. They’d been together too long to remember such things. Her trusty black backpack was slung across her weary shoulder, looking fuller than normal. She had everything she needed for a long day, except the will and confidence to face it head-on.

Her husband, Mike, was in his mid-thirties but looked and acted older. The type of guy who couldn’t wait to hit the big four-oh and relax into the routine of middle age. He handed Rita a mug of coffee in her favourite cup and a plate of toast he’d made when he heard her leave the bathroom. He knew she liked her toast lukewarm. It was one of many things they used to joke about when they still got butterflies and Maria was years away.

The four-year-old grinned from the kitchen table as she watched her mum eat her toast. Maria had abandoned her own breakfast halfway through in order to continue her colouring. A yellow and green zebra, and the lines be damned.

Rita made her way to the table and smiled as she looked at the messy picture, then gave her beautiful daughter a good-morning kiss. Her heart quickened again. Her soul was making noises too… but she had to temporarily ignore them both.

She took a sip of her coffee and tried to smile at Mike, but it no longer came as easily as it did with Maria.

“I’ll be back late tonight,” she flatly told him.

Mike nodded and failed at his own attempted smile despite desperately wanting the warmth to return to the house.

✯✯✯

Rita closed the front door, leaving Mike and Maria inside, and leant her forehead against the wood. Her eyes bulged and her throat tightened as she swallowed and sucked back the rush of tears ready to drip onto the pavement.

Then again with the breathing exercises.

She couldn’t remember when she’d learned them, another life maybe, but she was thankful to have them today.

She turned down the garden path and saw a black BMW parked directly across the street. Its bulky driver was on his phone. Rita adjusted the straps on her backpack and tugged a baseball cap over her head before marching down the rest of the garden path while her eyes never left the driver of the car.

Rita’s journey to the high street went by in a flash. She could barely recall sitting at the grimy bus stop, aside from her feet tapping nonstop and her legs uncontrollably shaking. The journey on the cold bus had followed a similar pattern, with the added bonus of all the colour draining from her face.

She remembered wanting to be sick and got off one stop early just in case she was, but she’d managed to gulp it back down just as she had the tears when she left Mike and Maria.

It was still early on the high street, with the morning chill reverberating from the pavement. A few people were around, with most either part-time staff heading to work or eager customers waiting impatiently outside the stores as keys were turned and doors flung open.

Promotional signs and seating from various shops and cafés were carried out and set up for the day. Eight hours of boredom awaited anyone with responsibilities as the high street began another day.

The time for panicked breathing and anxiety was over. Rita had her chance to be sick and had passed it up. Her heart would have to deal with the stress by itself for the moment, as she had bigger things to focus on.

Rita strolled calmly down the high street with a single objective in mind as she slid a handgun from her pocket and walked into the bank.

✯✯✯

A gleaming silver Bentley pulled up alongside St. Annes All-Girls School in the no-parking zone. Two huge, intimidating guys sat in the front, both smartly dressed. Their job was to protect the smaller, but no less dangerous, guy in the back, their boss, Dex. Dex’s job was to get his sweet little girl, Polly, to school on time.

“You got your homework?”

Polly nodded.

“Your lunch?”

The smiling kid patted her Pikachu schoolbag.

“Now I know you haven’t got a great big hug for your dear old dad.”

“I do,” Polly enthusiastically laughed as she unbuckled her seat belt and reached across to give Dex a huge, warm hug.

He tenderly embraced her before giving the top of her head a goodbye kiss.

“See you tonight, sweetie pie, when Daddy finishes work.”

Polly climbed out of the car and waved goodbye to both her dad and the two heavies in the front.

All the care and love in Dex’s face and voice disappeared the moment his loving daughter closed the door.

“Drive,” he aggressively told his goons.

✯✯✯

Rita strode out of the bank back onto the still nearly deserted high street, with no early-morning shoppers waiting outside or paying her any attention. She now carried two bags instead of one, as her trusty backpack had been joined by a bulging generic duffle bag that looked like something she could have brought to the gym.

Rita discreetly tucked the gun back into her pocket as she turned left to leave the bank. After a couple of steps, she immediately turned left again and entered the coffee shop next door.

She was first in line at the contemporary coffee shop and had begun to order her hazelnut latte when the alarms finally blared from the bank next door.

The young barista finished preparing Rita’s coffee, absently talking about the cold weather and thinking the loud alarms were nothing more than a fire test.

Rita paid in cash and thanked her as she made her way to the back of the Coffeehouse.

Rita placed the tall latte on a table furthest from the front window, but still with a view of the high street. She then disappeared into the toilet at the back of the café with both bags in hand while the alarms blasted from inside and outside the bank into the early morning air.

Double-checking the lock on the door, Rita stripped out of her dark jeans and hoodie and put on a black-and-white checked dress. The dress was a little short for the early morning chill, but the day would warm up, and more importantly, the dress didn’t look like the sort of get-up you’d wear to rob a bank.

She then placed her backpack on the floor and unfolded two shopping bags from it.

Unzipping the duffle bag, Rita transferred the thick wads of cash she’d stolen into the pre-prepared shopping bags. She then folded the empty duffle bag and placed it back into her nondescript backpack. It was the only thing she hadn’t changed, but she was certain it wouldn’t draw any attention. Plenty of people had the same colour backpack, and her gun had scared most people from looking at her too closely.

She then placed the extra items of clothing she’d brought along on top of the stacked money, concealing it within the shopping bags. Both shopping bags were thick green reusable bags that would (or should) not only hold the weight of the money, but also weren’t see-through. To the outside world, she should look like she’d done nothing more than go grocery shopping.

Rita skimmed the café toilet floor to make sure she hadn’t dropped anything, but knew she hadn’t. The money had been tightly wrapped together in bands, and her clothes were all accounted for. She hadn’t been wearing any jewellery during the heist, but put on a pair of earrings now. Any details that could make her look different had to help.

She would have dyed and cut her hair in the coffee shop toilet if she could, but instead just removed her baseball cap and let her long black hair fall loose. It still hadn’t dried from her morning bath, and if she hadn’t just robbed a bank, she would have been worried about catching a cold.

Then came the hard part… opening the toilet door.

If all had gone to plan and the CCTV surrounding the area was as useless as she’d been led to believe, then there shouldn’t be any police waiting outside ready to arrest her. If it hadn’t gone to plan, well, that wasn’t worth thinking about.

Her hand felt paralysed when she gripped the door handle. Rita wished there were a peephole so she could check what awaited her, but then nervously laughed at herself, remembering she was in a public toilet. A peephole would not be appropriate.

It was the first time she’d smiled all morning. Maybe all month. In fact, definitely all month.

But would she still be smiling when she turned the door handle?

Only one way to find out.

✯✯✯

Rita sipped her second hazelnut latte from the back of the coffee shop as she kept a peripheral eye on proceedings outside. The staff of the Coffeehouse kept disappearing out the front door to check on the latest commotion as the police continued their investigation. Statements were being taken, and a small crowd, alongside a few reporters, stood behind the yellow tape that had been used to cordon off the front of the closed bank.

The coffee shop was now full, with a mixture of passers-by trying to get the latest gossip on the robbery, people using their laptops, and the odd catch-up session between friends. Rita had asked the staff in a curious manner what was going on outside when she bought her second coffee, and the young barista had enthusiastically told her how there’d been a robbery next door.

‘No one was hurt, thank God,’ she had said. ‘But can you imagine?’

Rita shook her head like she couldn’t as she kept a careful eye on the shopping bags she’d left under her table.

While she watched from her advantageous position at the back of the crowded Coffeehouse, Rita took a burner phone from her pocket. The ugly phone had exactly one number in its directory, which Rita dialled.

“I have the money,” she told the caller in a matter-of-fact manner when someone answered on the other end after the obligatory three rings. Her eyes were still fixed on the window and café door as she coldly spoke. “I did it exactly as you said.”

She took a nonchalant sip of her coffee as two officers entered the Coffeehouse. Despite her outward calm, Rita could feel her insides tense up. Her stomach knotting.

But the police weren’t here to arrest her, or even question the patrons within the café. Instead, they ordered two large mochas to go while fielding questions from the curious staff and nosy customers.

“Where do you want to meet?” Rita asked as she diverted her eyes from the cops.

✯✯✯

Rita left the Coffeehouse deep into the afternoon, having spent the time drinking more coffee, keeping a vigilant watch, and reading a paperback. The romantic period drivel she’d picked up in a charity shop the week before wasn’t her thing, but it was in keeping with her ‘disguise,’ and she’d found herself getting into the melodramatic story the longer she read.

The ruckus was long over, but the bank was still roped off. A police officer stood guard outside while a lingering journalist remained in the hopes that he’d get an inside scoop.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder and a shopping bag in each hand, Rita looked no different from any other shopper as she made her way back to the bus stop.

Sitting at the back of the busy bus, Rita kept a tight grip on the shopping bags as she watched the world pass by outside the filthy window. It felt like she’d spent her whole day watching, but the moving view had a more calming effect than the tense, narrow view she’d had at the back of the Coffeehouse.

Rita passed the stop that was a short walk from her house and kept going as the bus slowly emptied. She wondered whether Mike and Maria were home, or whether the little tyke had persuaded her pushover father to take her to the park again. The girl was obsessed with the swings.

The rendezvous was at the very end of the route, away from all civilisation. When she arrived at the stop, Rita was the only passenger left on the bus. Apparently, most people didn’t travel this far, and looking around at the boarded-up shops and empty houses, she could see why.

Rita watched as the bus tackled the nearby roundabout, ready to start its route all over again. The next one wouldn’t arrive for another hour.

Rita followed the practically empty road around the corner and made her way down it as the odd car drifted by. The shopping bags were beginning to feel heavy in her hands, and the backpack was weighing on her shoulders.

The morning chill had morphed into an evening bite without ever warming up as the day passed. She could feel her exposed arms and legs starting to freeze.

The sun was setting early this time of year, and Rita continued to make her way down the long road as the darkness began to claw its way across the sky.

She surveyed a side street as she neared the meet-up point and was happy to discover no one was around. Rita disappeared into an alley that ran off it and made quick work of transferring the stolen money back into the original duffle bag that they’d issued her. She changed for a third time, putting on another thin hoodie and pair of jeans that had previously been used to cover the top of the shopping bags before resuming her journey.

✯✯✯

When she arrived at the disused small parking lot tucked behind a row of shops that had long since gone out of business, Rita was met by a single silver car parked sideways across three spaces, Dex’s car. He exited the vehicle from the back and was immediately flanked by his two suited heavies. All three of them looked smart; Rita bet they all thought they were smart too.

She meekly approached, scanning the immediate area, wondering how many more hired thugs could be hiding in the shadows. Dex and his men followed suit, making sure Rita hadn’t brought along any surprises with her, but they’d been at the rendezvous long enough to know they were all alone. They were just fucking with her.

“On your own?” Dex asked in a gravelly tone reserved for business.

Rita gently nodded. Her nerves were shot. Her body language was that of someone defeated as she barely kept hold of the bag. It suddenly weighed a ton.

“That my money?” Dex looked at the duffel bag, knowing damn well it was. He just liked to impose his will. His wife and kid may have been the boss of the house, but outside in the mean streets, he ruled.

Rita tugged the bag from her shoulder and offered it to Dex. The heavy to his right tucked his gun away and grabbed the bag. He began to thumb through it like he was counting the whole stash in the cold darkness of night as the moon hid behind the clouds and little street light reached them. Maybe the dim interior light shining from the car was enough? He nodded his approval to Dex in too short of a time for him to have counted the whole bag, but it was all there.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dex asked Rita.

“My husband and daughter?” she questioned, trying her best to stay calm.

The gangster grinned. He loved this part.

“What about them?”

Rita tried to reply, but the words stuck in her throat. Her face had to do the pleading for her as the tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. She looked ready to drop to her knees and beg.

Dex beamed. Nothing was quite so beautiful as a scared woman.

He took out his phone and dialled. Then he looked towards Rita once more, watching the fear spread across her face before he spoke.

“She’s all paid up.”

If possible, he began to look even more smug as he continued to stare in her direction. Still playing his games. Making her sweat. In control. It was always about control.

“Let them be,” he finally told whoever was on the other end.

He tucked the phone away. An ear-to-ear grin stretched across his obnoxious face. But while his mouth was smiling in a mocking manner, his icy eyes were dangerously serious. They told the real story of just how sinister a man he could be.

“All sorted,” Dex said, like he’d taken it upon himself to solve her problems rather than being the root of them. “You learned your lesson?”

Rita drew her gun before Dex had even finished the sentence and shot the armed heavy to Dex’s left in the head at point-blank range. The second heavy fumbled for his gun while still holding the duffel bag but couldn’t draw it quickly enough and suffered the same fate as Rita brutally executed him in one swift movement.

He dropped to the floor with a bullet lodged in the middle of his forehead, just like his partner. The open bag of money sat on the tarmac beside him, already soaking up the blood that was freely flowing from the two bodyguards. Rita shot them both once more for good measure, but she hadn’t needed to. They were already corpses.

Dex lunged at Rita, but she expertly took a step back and shot him twice, putting an end to his seething roar. The gun ignited mere millimetres from his heart as both bullets tore through his body with ruthless ease. He was dead before he completed the lunge. She gave him a couple of swift kicks while he lay sprawled across the ground.

“You should never have threatened my family,” Rita told the dead body in a frightening, unmerciful tone. It was a tone she’d all but forgotten over the last decade, but apparently it was still available to call upon when needed.

Rita wiped the gun and placed it in Dex’s rigid fingers. She then wiped the money bag clean of prints as best she could but left it sitting on the sodden tarmac. She wondered if anyone would even care to figure out what really happened with the money retrieved and three dead assholes off the street. It was a shame one of the bodyguards wasn’t a woman, as that could have tied up everything nicely, but Rita was more than aware that she couldn’t have everything her own way.

✯✯✯

Rita returned home much later in the evening after walking home instead of taking the bus. She needed the walk and the brutal frosty air to figure things out in her head, which had been no easy task. It had been a long and difficult day that, in theory, had gone about as well as it could have, but that was of little comfort.

Mike was watching the news when she entered the living room. They were reporting a bank robbery and how the money had been retrieved at a murder scene. He switched the TV off when he saw her enter the room.

“You okay? It’s late.”

Rita automatically nodded, but she was already looking past him to a brown envelope sitting menacingly on the coffee table. Mike followed her gaze.

“The divorce papers arrived today,” he told her in a gentle voice. A sadness washed over his face as he spoke the words he never thought he would.

Rita couldn’t hold the tears inside that had been building all day any longer. They flooded down her face. She could feel her heart aching, trying its best to stay in one piece while it broke at the seams. Mike took a step towards her and wrapped his arms around her like the softest of bears. Not a bad bone in his body. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“We don’t have to sign them this second,” he whispered between his own sobs.

…Rita remained in his arms for as long as she could. Then she wiped away the tears and signed the papers, ready to start the certain future she didn’t want after returning to a life she’d left behind.

Offri un caffè a Stephen Cooper

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