All right then, they would have lamb for supper. She carried it upstairs, holding the thin bone with her hands, and as she went through the living room, she saw him standing over by the window with the back to her, and she stopped.
''For God's sake,'' he said, hearing her, but not turning round.
''don't make supper for me. I'm going out.''
At that point, Mary Maloney simlply walked up behind him and without any pause she swung the big frozen leg of lamb high in the air and brought it down as hard as she could on the back of his head.
She might as well have hit him with a steel club.
She stepped back a pace, waiting, and the funny thing was that he remained standing there for at least four or five seconds, gently swaying. Then he crashed to the carpet.
The violence of the crash, the noise, the small table overturning helped bring her out of the shock.
She came out slowly, feeling cold and surprised, and she stood for a while blinking at the body, still holding the ridiculous piece of meat tight with both hands
All right, she told herself. So I've killed him.
to be continued
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