Tonight may be the night that I finally kill her.

Mabel Walker. My arch enemy. The bane of my life. The Uberbitch of Edinburgh’s West End. Possibly of the whole of Scotland, in fact.

She’s the head of the school’s parent council – a position she both busybodied and bought her way into, using her own superiority complex and her husband’s money. Rich, glamorous, and with a daughter who is top of the class in everything, she’s the apex predator of the PTA, and everything I’m not.

And wow, does she like to remind me of that.

I have this fantasy where I grab Mabel by the ears and twist her head off like it’s the lid of a jam jar. Or a jar of mayonnaise. Or any sort of jar, really, the contents aren’t all that important. What’s important is the look on her face when I do it, and the fact that – for once – she stops complaining.

It’s not a regular thing. I don’t dream about it daily, or anything like that. In fact, I only ever think about it at very specific times.

Specifically, any time when I’m in her company.

Of course, the reality of it wouldn’t be as satisfying as the fantasy. In the real world, as I was wrenching her head from her shoulders, Mabel would be criticising my technique. ‘Elizabeth,’ she’d say, ‘you’re making a mess of this. You’re doing it all wrong!’

She’d then explain in oh-so-condescending tones how she’d do it differently. By which she’d mean ‘better’.

Like I need someone else reminding me of my faults.

It’s a fun fantasy, but a pointless one. I doubt even decapitation would be enough to prevent Mabel Walker from ruining my life.

Tonight, we just might find out.

There we have it. I hope you enjoyed that little teaser. If it has whet your appetite for the book, you can go right ahead and pre-order it now.