Death by Selfie

The blue and white Wedgwood patterned bone china plate, a present from their wedding list, span in a circular motion, similar to a UFO crossing your line of sight, as it whizzed through the kitchen window, and smashed into a thousand shimmering shards of glass into the garden beyond. Natasha screamed and ran into the front room, wailing and sobbing.

She heard her husband of three years stomping around the kitchen, complaining about the mess which he’d just created. Natasha was terrified the neighbours would hear the commotion. She projected a happy family image to the outside world, but her heart and soul were in meltdown. Things were not right between them, but she did not know what to do about it.

His complaint was that the food she spent ages cooking him wasn’t hot enough. He didn’t consider the fact he was home later than he said he would be, and she couldn’t keep the food hot without burning it. He was a bully, and she knew it. 

As she stepped into the garden, she gathered the scattered remnants of the shattered china plate and glinting shards of glass from the broken window into her dustpan with the brush. Most of all, she checked there was no glass left to embed itself in the dainty paws of their most recent acquisition, an adorable golden retriever puppy. 

“Come away, Biscuit,” she said as she shooed the playful puppy away from the detritus of her husband’s uncontrolled anger. 

The next day she spent shopping with her mother.

As they walked down the side of clothes rails bursting with bonny baby clothes, she said, “Mama, I just don’t feel happy around him these days.” 

Gina, her best friend, was her mum. They were very similar in personality and understood each other well. Natasha was 19 weeks pregnant, and they were looking at baby clothes in M&S together. 

“Ow mum, look at this Babygro with the little rabbit on it in blue. Isn’t it the cutest thing you have ever seen?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful. Only the best for you.” She smiled and winked at her daughter. She spoiled her, but she didn’t care about that.

“But you don’t know the sex of the baby yet, do you, Natasha?”

“No, mama (she always called her that when she felt girly), but I may know soon. It’s my scan coming up, and then we will know. Although they can’t guarantee the baby's gender. I have a girlfriend who bought clothes for a boy, and it turned out to be a girl. She wasn’t best pleased.”

“Oh Lord,” said her mum. “Best we shop for yellow clothes then,” and patted her daughter on her arm.

“Nah mum, we will do a gender reveal afterwards, and then we will buy but gosh, it’s so hard to resist buying things now.”

Gina steered her daughter away from the baby clothes and they walked up the escalator to the M&S cafe on the 2nd floor.

They enjoyed a lovely, close, and warm mother and daughter relationship. It is undeniable that Gina and Peter spoiled their only child. But Natasha’s mum didn’t care about spoiling her. She just wanted her to be happy.

As they sat and had coffee and a pastry, she said to her daughter, “Natasha, why aren’t you happy around Andrew? What’s the problem?”

Her heart ached with concern as Gina forced a smile at her daughter. Natasha was in her early thirties and married Andrew only three years ago. 

Natasha sighed. “He just criticises everything I do. Hates the meals I cook, he shouts at Biscuit, our puppy. He is so grumpy all the time, and I don’t know how to cheer him up.”

Her mother sighed. “Maybe you should consider marriage guidance, Natasha. You can’t possibly go on like this? Also, it’s so early on in your marriage. You need to get things sorted out now.”

“I know, mum, I will think about it.”

Natasha tried to make her husband happy. He criticised everything she did, the puppy did, life itself. She felt he was suffering from depression and should get some professional help. She felt she’d done all she could at this point in their marriage.

She couldn’t contain her excitement upon finding out she was going to have a daughter at her 20-week scan. But that was the final straw for her husband.

Andrew shouted at her, “Oh my God, a girl! That’s going to be expensive. What about the family name? There’s no-one to carry it on.”

Natasha fought back. “Who do you think you are, the aristocracy, royalty? Carry on the family name? What about your brother? He’s unmarried. Maybe there should be pressure on him to have a boy. I just want a healthy baby; I don’t care if it’s a boy or girl.”

Poor Natasha. She hoped the baby would be the glue needed to hold the marriage together, but now things were worse. Andrew was disinterested in the baby because she was a girl. She was at her lowest ebb.

Then, out of the blue, he suggested a weekend away in Scotland, in Edinburgh.

Edinburgh wasn’t a city she knew, but Natasha felt uncomfortable about the weekend break ahead. She knew she didn’t want to be with her husband of three years anymore and was going to tell her mum she was leaving him soon after their forthcoming holiday together.

Although pregnant, Natasha kept herself fit. She attended Pilates and yoga classes and pushed herself on the treadmill in the local gym. She was determined to get her figure back after the birth of her baby girl. Going to the gym also got her out of the house and away from her abusive husband, Andrew. 

She felt so much better after a gym session and knew that she was benefiting herself. Her fitness was going to be a key point in what happened next to Natasha.

Andrew and Natasha flew to Edinburgh on the shuttle from London. It was quick and easy, and Natasha was in a good mood.

“Maybe Andrew will relent, and we can have a good time for once,” she thought to herself. Perhaps it was his high-pressured banking job which was getting him down. She was being generous in her viewpoint, but the thing about Natasha was she always had hope in her heart.

For once, it was a beautiful day in Scotland. It was windy, but sunny as Natasha and Andrew scaled up the side of the mountain to get to Arthur’s Seat. It was worth climbing as it was a jagged and grassy area which rose up from the urban sprawl of the buildings in Edinburgh itself. It was famous for one of the best views to overlook the city, but was quite a strenuous walk to the top.

Natasha felt happy for once. She was out of breath, but not as out of breath as Andrew, who sported a large paunch, and although in his thirties, was not very fit.

Natasha read from the map she carried, “Andrew, did you know we are climbing up the side of an extinct volcano? Isn’t that bizarre, a volcano in Scotland?” Her laughter was infectious, and although he was struggling and panting to get up the grassy hill, he managed a small smile.

“Wow, it says here in this booklet that it’s called Arthur’s Seat because this area was the famed Camelot and relates to the legend of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.”

“You don’t believe in all that crap, do you?” Said Andrew, grumpy again, because he was hot and sweaty.

Natasha confirmed, “I do, I love it. King Arthur’s legend is outstanding.” 

“Wahoo”, exclaimed Natasha, as they reached the very top and stood with the wind gusting around their knees. They had a panoramic view of Edinburgh from every angle. 

“Look over there, at Edinburgh Castle. Did you know that’s sitting on top of an extinct volcano as well?”

But Andrew was silent. He surveyed the area and noted there were no people nearby. He stood behind Natasha, quite close to her.

They stood close to the edge of the cliff, at the highest point. Natasha wasn’t afraid of heights, but Andrew hated them.

He said, “Natasha, here is a glorious spot. Let’s take a selfie together.”

Despite her surprise, as selfies were not something Andrew engaged in, she rummaged around in her bag and retrieved her camera.

He edged closer and closer to her. Then, standing beside her for the selfie, he said,

“I’ve had enough of you, bitch,” span round and pushed her hard.

Natasha’s widened eyes and dropped jaw revealed her surprise, but her self-preservation instincts kicked in. She twisted her body so that she could catch the side of the cliff as she fell and was now hanging on for dear life. She was screaming.

He said, “Shut up, shut up!” He couldn’t believe she didn’t fall straight down the 55ft cliff to her death. He tried to kick her hands away from the edge of the cliff. In a moment of clarity, she clutched onto his ankle, feeling the strength in her fingers as she pulled with every ounce of her being.

He fell backwards, but unluckily for him, he hit the bottom of the ground with such force, that it created a mini landslide, and he slid down the side of the grassy hill, past Natasha, screaming to his death.

She didn’t hesitate, the weight of her baby was pulling hard on her arms. With a swift motion and deftness, she extended her leg and found a secure foothold on the rugged side of the cliff. Thank God for all those exercise classes. She amazed everyone with her incredible flexibility. With some considerable effort, she pushed up and over onto the side of the cliff. She rolled onto her back.

She was panting, and the baby gave her a little kick. Stroking her belly as she lay there, she said, “Don’t worry little one, everything is going to be alright now.”

She felt no sadness or remorse at the demise of Andrew. He’d brought it on himself. In fact, she felt nothing at all about his passing. As she looked over the cliff at his body below, she could see he’d smashed his head open on a rock and was bleeding. It was obvious no-one could have saved him. She could tell he was dead, even from her viewpoint.

With a trembling hand, she dialled the emergency number and relayed the details of the incident to the police.

She felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders, and a wonderful sense of freedom. Although battered from the experience, she sat at Arthur’s Seat for some time, awaiting the police. The place emitted a magical aura. She felt calm and grateful that luck prevailed, saving her and her baby from sudden death.

When the police arrived at the scene, Natasha met Detective Inspector Wilson. He was a career police officer, very ambitious, and keen to build a reputation for himself in solving cases.

He accompanied Natasha back to her hotel, rather than the station, to ask her some questions about what happened. However, he was hard on Natasha, questioning her insensitively.

“Explain to me please Mrs Wright, how could you twist in mid-air?” He rudely pointed with his right hand at her swollen belly. 

“I do a lot of exercising, and I’m flexible.” She couldn’t believe his line of questioning.

He continued, “I’m rather surprised you were able to hook his ankle with your hand, whilst holding onto the side of the cliff with the other hand. and had sufficient strength to pull him over the side.”

Natasha sighed. “As I explained, Inspector, I did not manage to pull him over the side. I hooked his ankle and pulled hard, and he ended up unbalancing, falling, and sliding down the side of the cliff. I suppose, in a way, I was lucky.”

The Inspector sucked the end of his pencil, contemplating this information.

“You feel you were lucky that he fell to his death?

Natasha felt frustrated. “You know what I mean, Inspector. He was trying to kill me.”

“I understand he took a life insurance policy out on his life and yours a few months ago.”

“Yes, Inspector, that’s not unusual when a new baby comes into the family. We wanted to protect her in case anything happened to us.”

He nodded, “Indeed, Mrs Wright.”

Gina, her mother explained to Inspector Williams that she believed her daughter was in a violent, coercive marriage and that Andrew tried to kill her because he sensed she was thinking of leaving him.

“I understand also from your mother. he wasn’t a very nice man.”

“No, he could be difficult.”

“I would say more than difficult, in fact, abusive towards you, Mrs Wright?”

“He never physically hit me or hurt me. Just mean words and sometimes he smashed things.” She thought of the wedgwood bone china dinner service plate he’d thrown through the kitchen window, which she loved.

“But you were thinking of leaving him. Is that correct?”

“Inspector, are you suggesting I wanted him dead because he was abusive, and he had a life insurance policy?” 

Natasha was losing her patience. She had experienced a very upsetting time and didn’t appreciate the Inspector’s insinuations.

“Of course not, Mrs Wright. Not unless that happened?” He smirked.

Natasha lost all patience with the Inspector. “Am I glad he’s gone? No. Because my daughter’s lost her father.” 

He nodded, closing his leather notebook with a loud snap. “Alright, those are all the questions I have for now, Mrs. Wright. We may have some more later. I would advise you to stay in the area, if possible, until we have completed our investigation.”

Natasha watched the police car as it left the hotel car park. She’d stayed on at the hotel as requested but was feeling rather lost and lonely. 

Just then, there was a knock at her hotel room door.

“Oh, for goodness’s sake,” she was irked. “The Inspector’s asking me yet more questions?”

She opened the door to see a tall man, wearing dark clothing, standing there. He stood upright and seemed almost regal in stature. She was a bit taken aback but didn’t feel frightened.

The man said, “My name is Galahad.”

She smiled, saying, “That’s a very ancient name.”

He nodded. “I am from this land, and I saw what happened to you. I am sorry.”

Natasha pulled her cardigan tightly around her. It wasn’t a chilly night, but she felt cold standing in the doorway, but she didn’t feel she should invite a stranger into her hotel room.

“Thank you, but who are you? Why would you be concerned? Or were you a witness?”

“He said, I’m part of a group of people that like to defend the defenceless. Your ability impressed us in your current situation to defend yourself so bravely.”

She noted that he spoke in a rather clipped, old-fashioned way.

Natasha smiled, looking down at her growing tummy. “My current situation? Oh yes, I’m expecting a baby, and I think I am going to call her Guinevere.”

The man looked shocked for a second, then said, “What a lovely name. You see, we were right about you.”

She stared at him, but he said, “I must go now but wish you well.” and as quickly as he came, he left.

Natasha stood scratching her head as to whom he was, and although she asked everyone she could, no-one in the hotel knew anything about him either. She put him out of her mind.

Over the next few months, the trial took place. The jury decided Natasha acted to save herself from falling down the mountain. They didn’t convict Andrew posthumously, as there was insufficient evidence that he had tried to murder her. There was a belief it may have just been one large accident, whilst taking a selfie on the rocky outcrop. There was evidence of his body sliding down the mountain and her description of what had occurred held water, but the resultant verdict was death by misadventure. In other words, death from a risk taken voluntarily.

Natasha was unimpressed her murder accusation couldn’t be proven, but she was just grateful to have survived. The court exonerated her of all blame, and the death became another statistic linked to taking selfies in precarious positions at beauty spots. 

Natasha’s baby was born on time, and without issues. She was a beautiful baby girl. True to her word, Natasha named her Guinevere. 

She wasn’t sure why, but felt Arthur’s Seat, in what was once famed to be Camelot, was a magical place, and somehow helped her in her moment of need. She would be forever grateful, and Guinevere seemed to be the ultimate tribute.

Natasha went back to Arthur’s Seat with Guinevere. She sat on the rocky outcrop, and took a selfie with herself and Guinevere in the photo. She relished the beauty and tranquillity of that magical spot.

“A photo tells a thousand words,” she said to Guinevere, who just giggled in her arms.