Outside The First Baptist Church in Rushden, the sign reads; ’God loves you.’
Underneath this, in smaller letters, it goes on to say; ’but don’t take my word for it.’

Almost a double take as he reads the sign. Perhaps it was designed to do that. One thing though; at least it shows that someone has a sense of humour.
Perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be funny, but you couldn’t put that up without a laugh. Could you?
There was a time where what you’d get outside Churches were announcements for the next services, now, they’re telling jokes.
Joe Glenn isn’t a Baptist. He’s not nothing, but he isn’t religion, was but gave it up for something a whole lot better and the pay can be well worth it.
He was a Catholic until his confirmation. He got that just to get his mum to shut up and after, ran as far from religion as anyone could get.
Joseph Richard Glenn. Forty eight years old. Divorced, father of two, they live with their mum. What Joe does isn’t really talked about. His ex wife knows, but scared to tell anyone. The story told is that Joe is a salesman, well, strictly speaking, that’s not a lie, just twisting things a bit.
Joe does sell. He sells death. For a price. Want someone got rid of, give him a call. It could be worth it.
Two things he will not kill; children and animals.
Anything else is fair game. He’s very good at what he does.
He lives alone in a two bed apartment. Rarely watches television. Has a few friends and they don’t know much about him. Only the strict aside that he’s a salesman. He doesn’t particularly like sports. He does like Chinese and Indian food, has a passion for pizza and isn’t the sort of man you’d look twice at.
Almost invisible, until you cross him and you’d better make sure you know where the exits are, ’cause if you don’t, Joe will show you one exit that has no come back.
Joe isn’t the sort of man with a short temper. He always appears quite calm, a steady sounding voice and an easy going nature that wouldn’t worry a fly.
He’s deceptive, he knows more than what he lets on, and in his own case, knows he’s dying.
Cancer has taken hold and he shrugs. Another so what moment.
Now, maybe he can take the time he has left to put a few things right. A smile and he begins a new day with a shower.
The Church sign still on his mind. Fuck you and all that goes with it.
After his shower, he dresses in a suit. A dark blue suit and a dark tie. Polished shoes and a coffee and a cigarette and a visit to the bank. A small job here, HSBC has taken care of his money for many years, now that money can take care of his kids.
He has money elsewhere, but he’ll start with HSBC.
Down the stairs to his car and as he gets to the pavement, he looks around and that frown where he thinks he sees someone.
Can’t say for sure, a trick perhaps, but for that moment, thought someone was there.
At his car and opening the door, a look around again. From across the street, he can see the curtains move, that bitch from twenty three, he ought to show her an exit, but not now or sometime today.
A smile, tomorrow then.
Driving and turning the heating up, not that cold, but a slight chill. Death’s fingers creeping over his shoulder, well, death can fuck off for now, I’m busy.
At the bank, dealing with a snot nose fuck rat of a boy dressed as a man and that really pissed Joe off. Whose fucking money are we talking about here?
From the notice on the wall, you can’t be abusive to members of staff. Really? Why not, especially when he’s a fucking idiot who can’t even talk properly.
Joe had kept his voice nice and steady while dealing with the rat and by the time he’d finished, had the rat added to his list.
Okay, only one more.
Leaving the bank and walking back to his car. Thinking about something to eat and then that feeling again.
With his hand on the roof of his car he turns and there’s a woman standing nearby. She’s looking straight at him.
She’s fairly tall, dark brown hair that’s straight and just touches her shoulders. She has a soft tan, which doesn’t look fake. She has moles that start on her chin and end in a kind of stagger pattern, the last one is just above her left eyebrow. Her eyes are such a startling green, the shape of her face reminds him of someone, but as of yet, can’t place where.
She’s wearing a purple T shirt, over which is a light grey cardigan, dark blue jeans that follow the shape of her legs and white trainers. A tan coloured jacket over her left arm and a handbag over her right shoulder. She smiles, he doesn’t.
Her face is oval shape, a slight taper around her chin and those moles that he finds so sexy.
She looks slim, be rude to say skinny, but she looks like she knows how to take care of herself. In a couple of steps, she’s right next to him. She doesn’t blink.
‘We need to talk.’ Her voice is quite soft. Like she wouldn’t know how to shout.
‘No, you need to go away.’
‘I know you Joe Glenn. You can drive.’ With that, she walks around the car and waits by the door.
‘So, you are?’
‘Sarah Elliott. You knew my Dad.’
Joe slides his hand off the roof of his car. Now he gets it. Gets her. Yeah, Lewis Elliott’s daughter. Well, well. Lewis Elliott.
The central locking disengages and she opens her door. Joe waits for her to get in before he moves.
He slams his door as Sarah drops her handbag down to the floor.
‘What do you want?’
She reaches for the seatbelt, turning her head towards him and smiling, ’Business.’
The tan coloured jacket is placed on her lap. The seatbelt is locked in place.
‘What sort of business?’
‘The killing kind.’
Joe shrugs and starts the car. He puts his seatbelt on, ’I didn’t know Lewis’ daughter would be so…’
‘What difference does that make? I’m not here to fuck you. It’s business, as easy and as simple as that.’
‘Well, excuse me.’
‘Are you going to drive or are we just going to sit here with the engine running?’
She’s very direct, that much he can say. Joe drives.
At the end of the street, it’s a right turn only. A big gap appears and Joe drives on. Along this road and up the hill and left.
‘I’m going to the pub for lunch. Can I get you something?’
‘No. I don’t eat lunch, but as we’re being sociable, you can buy me a coffee.’
The rest of the two mile journey is taken in silence. Sarah just looks out through the windscreen and Joe just drives.

The three needles is a pub that Joe’s been to a few times before. The food is reasonable and priced accordingly. He places his food order and goes back to the table with her coffee. He gets a pint from the bar and sits.
She stares at him, slowly stirring her coffee, ’You look like an undertaker and I suppose that what you do for a living is in a similar vein.’
Joe loosens his tie, ’Any better?’
‘No. Now, you look like a sloppy undertaker. One who just couldn’t give a fuck.’
Joe takes a drink, banging his glass on the table, ’Think you have me all worked out, don’t you?’
Sarah smiles at him, ’You kill people. What more is there to say?’
‘Apart from that.’
‘Do you ever feel guilty about what you do? Any kind of remorse at all?’
‘No. Because if I did, I wouldn’t do it.’
Sarah nods, ’Really.’ Her voice sounds soft, almost questioning.
‘Look, let’s get to where we want to go. What do you want?’
‘A life for a life.’
Joe laughs. He checks his watch, just in case and no, it’s not that early, ’What exactly are you getting at?’
‘I know about you.’
‘And what do you know, my little Miss fucking know it all?’
A small sip of coffee, gently placing the cup back in its saucer, ’Not well, are you. Looking at your own exit, aren’t you?’
‘It happens to us all. Not something we can get around, is it?’
‘I wouldn’t say that too loudly, Mr. Glenn. You never know who’s listening.’
‘Alright, look. Business you said. Let’s talk about business and no more bullshit, okay?’
‘Fair enough. An offer. A life for yours.’ She nods slightly, raising her eyebrows.
Another drink. Joe wondering at what point he should quietly up and leave.
‘A life for mine? There isn’t anyone who can undo that, Miss Elliott, only God himself and I think he’s a little busy right now.’
‘Oh, I didn’t say anything about God. Why did you bring that into this?’
Interesting point. She said ’that’ and not ’him’
‘Who else is there?’
Sarah sits forward, folding her arms and resting her elbows on the table, ’This has nothing to do with God. This is you and me.’
A thin man in a black shirt stands by the table, ’Your order.’ He says, placing the plate in front of Joe, a quick glance at the woman opposite, he smiles and walks away.
She then picks up his knife, ’Sometimes, we don’t really see things that are there. You may be wondering what I’m talking about, but Mr. Glenn, believe me when I say that I can do certain things and…’ the tip of the blade is pressed against the palm of her left hand, then the knife is pushed through her skin, she holds her hand up, to make sure he can see it, ’you think this is some sort of trick. It’s quite real.’ Sarah then pulls the knife from her hand, passing the knife back to Joe again. She still holds her hand up and he watches the wound in her hand disappear.
‘That’s impressive. You could go on television with things like that.’
‘Yes, well. That‘s not why I did it.’
Joe picks up his fork and snatches up the knife. Sarah watches him slice through his steak, seemingly not bothered where the knife has just been.
He sees her looking, Joe shrugs, ’Don’t bother me. You didn’t even bleed.’
Along with a rare steak, there are mushrooms, onion rings, French fries and a small pot of ketchup.
‘So, my life for another. Okay, who?’
Sarah sits back, ’You should finish your lunch first.’
‘Oh, it’s going to be a surprise, is it?’
‘How many people have you killed, Mr. Glenn?’
Joe shrugs, licking the blade of the knife, ’I don’t know. Pointless to keep score, isn’t it?’
‘Where do you think in that number is my Dad?’
‘Now that I wouldn’t know, but it did pay well.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he did.’
Sarah finishes her coffee. Going quiet and patiently waiting. Just content to sit and watch him eat.

Joe pushes his plate away, not leaving much at all. He then finishes his pint, ’Shall we?’
They get up and head for the door.
‘Did you enjoy your lunch?’
‘Yeah, and thanks for asking.’
A matter of minutes when they’re back at his car again. Sarah has a look around, seeing how relatively quiet it is. Joe unlocks the car and gets in.
Sarah softly closes her door, then looks at him, ’You keep a gun here?’
‘Yeah, always.’
A smile from her, ’I want you to use it.’
‘Yeah, but on who?’
‘Me.’
Joe laughs. Sitting next to her and she doesn’t laugh but he can’t help himself.
‘You seem to think that killing my Dad was so easy. Okay, try me. I promise, I’ll behave myself.’
Joe leans forwards and opens the glove box. Here, he keeps a Glock 9mm handgun. He takes it out, checks that it’s loaded and that the safety is off, ‘If you insist.’
‘I told you, a life for yours. You kill me and you can have your life back.’
He presses the muzzle of the gun tight against her temple, ‘Anything you want to say?’
‘Mr. Glenn, please. Just get on with it.’
‘Okay…’
He squeezes the trigger, the muzzle flash is only partially contained and the noise makes his ears ring.
Her head jolts to her left, then upright again.
Joe lowers his gun, away from her head.
Sarah turns to him and smiles, ’Ouch!’