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The Woman in the Zoom by Derville Murphy

‘You say she was behaving strangely over the last few months.’

‘Yeah, she seemed edgier.’


‘Anxious. I suppose. Couldn’t relax. Always on her bloody phone.’

‘I was looking for help in the only way I could,’ she said.

‘I thought, she had a lover.’

‘I’d be so lucky.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘Little things.’ He scratches the back of his head, leaning back in the chair. ‘She’d dress up and say she was going to the shopping centre. Provocatively like.’

‘Like how?’

‘Well a short skirt, tight top.’

‘Jesus Christ, was I supposed to wear a yasmak. I just wanted to get away from you - just for an hour. Talk to my friends, clothes, makeup, shite. Pretend things were normal.’

‘I’ve read up a bit about it. I think she was a narcissist.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘She could only see things through her eyes. It was all about her. No matter what you said she twisted it

to be about her.’

‘An example?’

‘Like, I’d say, I have a headache – she’d say, so you don’t want to talk to me.’

‘And did you, talk to each other about how you feel?’

‘God yeah! It was all she ever wanted to talk about, how she bloody felt. It was her hobby.’

‘I had mental health issues - you prick! Go, on tell her what you did!’

‘How did this make you feel, her need to talk about her feelings?’

‘It was annoying. She did my head in made me feel...’


‘Angry, frustrated!’

‘Frustrated, that’s what you were when you realised someone else liked me, wanted me. So you…’

‘Killed me… the way she went on.’

‘Maybe I could talk to Elsa now?’


‘Elsa, she’s there with you.’

He looks around.

‘Elsa’s dead, this is why we’re having this conversation.’

‘But I thought... so who is with you?’

‘Im on my own.’

Check out my novel , The Art Collector's Daughter available on

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