Читать книгу Killer Women - Devasting True Stories of Female Murderers - Wensley Clarkson - Страница 4

It was hardly a grand affair – as weddings go. But then Graham and Gillian Philpott would not have wanted it any other way really.

As they walked out of the quiet suburban registry office into the autumn sunlight, they felt a sense of relief that they had finally done it.

After all, they knew each other pretty well, having lived together for five years. Hardly a sin, but for most of that time, bank manager Graham had pretended to be married to avoid the bigoted gossip that their neighbours loved to indulge in.

It just would not do for a 45 year-old, recently divorced father-of-three to be setting up home with the pretty 21 year-old clerk from his branch of a major high-street bank.

For Mungo Park Way, near Orpington, in Kent, was one of those sort of places. Lots of net curtains and perfectly mowed lawns. A veneer of respectability hiding a multitude of sins.

Graham Philpott’s house was a classic example of early 1970s architecture. Functional, practical and entirely lacking in style. But then it did have a built in garage – and that was very important in Mungo Park Way.

Now Graham and Gillian had got married at last. With two failed marriages behind him, Graham wanted to start afresh. Gillian made him feel so much younger.

For her part, she’d put her spotless past on the line to marry a man more than twice her age. Not surprisingly, her parents did not entirely approve of the match.

Her father, retired special branch police detective Leslie Smoothy, was philosophical. ‘They seem happy,’ he observed dryly. Gillian was old enough to make up her own mind whom she should marry.

In her stunning off-the-shoulder wedding dress complete with lace veil, she really looked the part as they left the ceremony to a cheery send-off from a handful of friends and relatives.

She was an attractive woman in a chiselled sort of way, possessing one of those faces with sharp features that people either love or hate. There was no middle-of-the-road reaction about Gillian.

At work, she was always immaculately dressed and bubbled enthusiasm wherever she went. Her gregarious behaviour certainly caught the eye of her colleague Graham. Balding and nearly always wearing the same style of grey flannel suit in the office, he looked the archetypal bank manager.

Within a few months of Gillian joining the bank, they had become a definite couple. Soon, they were openly holding hands and kissing and cuddling as they travelled to and from the City by commuter train each day. No-one objected so long as it did not interfere with their work – and Graham made sure of that.

Now – five years later – she had actually persuaded him to marry her. They had learned to live together. To accept each other’s habits. To enjoy each other’s company. They were probably much better prepared than most other couples. The marriage meant something really special to them despite having been live-in lovers for so long. They wanted the ceremony to be an occasion to remember. A time of great happiness.

So when Gillian’s sister Janet turned up at their house just a few days before the wedding in tears, it pained them both to see her in such distress. It was only natural that they should offer her a shoulder to cry on.

Janet had just finished a particularly turbulent love affair and her life seemed in tatters. She did the only natural thing – and turned to her twin sister for comfort.

They were not absolutely identical. But the facial resemblances were startling similar. The nose, the eyes, the mouth, the shape of the face. If you met the sister you did not know in the street, you would be sure you had seen her before.

They did not dress identically because they abhorred the habitual obligation that so many twins seem under. They were individuals and they wanted to be treated as such.

If anything, being twin sisters had made Gillian and Janet more determined to succeed on their own. Throughout their childhood, they had suffered the pressure of always being expected to perform like circus clowns. People tried to make one person out of two. It was so infuriating they promised each other they would never treat their own children that way.

It was no surprise, then, that they went their own separate ways. Even so, despite the distance they kept from each other, Janet still managed to have exactly the same job as her sister, for the same bank – but at a different branch.

Perhaps that was why the guests at the wedding that day were not the least bit shocked to see Janet sitting with her sister and brand new husband in the back of their chauffeur-driven limousine as it drove off to London Airport.

Earlier, Gillian had been relieved when her husband had put up no resistance to her suggestion that Janet should accompany them on their honeymoon to beautiful Bali. It wouldn’t mar the holiday. In fact, she thought, it would be quite nice to have some female company. Graham could be awfully staid at times. And Bali sounded like such a wonderful place. Situated just south of Indonesia and west of Java, it really promised to be the trip of a lifetime.

Graham Philpott had been bemused by his wife’s suggestion at first. Slightly irritated that the romantic holiday was going to be with someone else. But, when she had explained the anguish her sister was going through, he thought it would be heartless to object. In any case, Janet was going to return to London after two weeks – to leave them with a full week to themselves.

As they sat together chatting on the flight to paradise, Graham studied Janet more closely. They really were identical twins in more ways than he had at first realised. Talking to Janet was just like talking to a more sophisticated version of Gillian. She seemed less hard-faced. More demure. More ladylike in the way she dressed and behaved. He examined all the features of her body. It was her eyes that struck him most. They were so inviting. She would look at him in such a way that he felt as if she were reading his mind.

Janet possessed something her sister lacked. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was. But he thought he might like to find out.

Graham and Gillian had the honeymoon suite. It was a sumptuous place. Servants at your beck and call. Food, drink, sunshine, even massages on tap.

At night the two newly weds walked barefoot along the endless palm-fringed beaches, golden sand scrunching beneath their feet.

Bali has been called ‘The Morning of the World’. An enchanting island, it is without doubt, one of the most magical places on earth. Scattered between the trees are tiny villages where craftsmen build countless temples in honour of their gods. Every night, after the sun goes down, traditional Balinese dancing takes place. The perfect place to relax. The perfect place for a honeymoon.

There was so much for the newly-weds to do.

Then there was Janet. She was always around. Laughing. Joking. Playing a hostess-type role to the two lovers. Whenever she felt in the way, she would disappear, sensing it was time to leave Graham and Gillian alone.

As the honeymoon went on, however, they both felt they couldn’t just cut Janet out of the picture. More and more, they insisted she joined in with them. They wanted to make sure she didn’t feel awkward with them. This was her holiday as well.

So she became an essential part of the proceedings. No mealtime was complete without her. The three of them would laugh and joke at all the same things. They had built up a remarkable rapport.

Graham was becoming convinced they were all having an even better time – thanks to bringing Janet along. If anything, he began to think, she was an improvement on Gillian. No, he didn’t really mean that. Not really. It was just that she kept flitting into his thoughts – he couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at Gillian, he saw Janet shining through. Maybe it was because they were so similar.

At first, he dismissed it as a natural fondness for his wife’s sister. They were twins and it was obvious that he would find them both attractive. He would watch as Janet plunged into the pool for a swim. Looking at her body. Examining every minute detail – comparing it all the time to Gillian.

Janet seemed to hold herself much better. Her breasts seemed firmer. Her body seemed more shapely. But then again…

Both Graham and Gillian became quite depressed as the day of Janet’s departure back to London approached. They both enjoyed her company immensely but for entirely different reasons. They didn’t want to see her go. But the plane ticket was booked. It would cost a fortune to change it.

They all decided to go out for an extra special dinner the night before she was due to leave. It was like a leaving party in a way. Gillian was sad. She was going to miss her sister’s company during those long, hot, sunny days on the beach.

As they sat in the corner of the restaurant, Graham proposed a toast to his sister-in-law. It was a nice gesture and Janet smiled warmly at him. He stared intently at her. Delighted that she had responded to him so openly. Gillian paused for moment. She frowned at Graham, then dismissed her suspicions as ridiculous. The dinner party continued.

Graham told a joke and the two sisters listened carefully to his every word. After the punch line delivery, they both laughed in unison. Janet grabbed Graham’s arm purely as a reaction to the wisecrack. She felt good about her brother-in-law. He seemed a fine person. Someone who would bring nothing but happiness to her family. She was pleased.

Her hand squeezed his arm gently. It was an act of fondness for a new relative she was only just beginning to get to know, but to Graham it was a significant sign. Evidence that Janet was starting to return the feelings he had for her.

If anyone else in the world had squeezed his arm in such a way, he would have thought nothing of it, but when she did it… it had to mean something. A deliberate flirtation. He couldn’t accept it as anything else.

If only Janet had realised what thoughts were rushing through his mind at that moment, then maybe she would not have inadvertently brushed his leg with the toes of her shoe just a few minutes later. To her, it was an innocent movement. Not intended in any way to be interpreted as a show of affection. She didn’t give it any thought at the time. She just pulled her foot away gradually so as not to appear rude.

When Graham felt the movement of her shoe on his leg, it left a completely different impression. He saw it as even more evidence of her attempt to tell him that she fancied him. That she could not wait for him to get back to England so they might make wild, passionate love.

He looked up and glanced at her as her toe rested, momentarily, on his leg. He smiled discreetly, so Gillian would not see. Janet saw the look on his face and pulled her foot away immediately – but it was already too late. The damage had been done.

Graham’s obsession had begun.

The next day was a sad occasion for everyone. Graham and Gillian were both at the airport saying fond farewells to Janet. It was more like saying goodbye to a relative who was emigrating to the other side of the world, than a sister whom they would both see just seven days later.

Gillian had thought it ludicrous to take Janet to the airport. She was a grown up person, perfectly capable of looking after herself, but Graham had insisted. He told his new wife that he would expect her to do the same thing if the situations were reversed. That was just a smoke screen for the searing passion he felt for Janet. Any excuse just to spend that extra hour in her company. Just to be sitting next to her in the taxi. To feel her leg brush against his own as they got out at the other end. To smell her perfume. To see her smile. To feel her lips.

When Gillian kissed her sister fondly on the cheek before she went through passport control, Graham could feel the excitement in his stomach, anticipating the hug and kiss he knew he was about to receive. It was a rare opportunity for him to feel her in his arms. Gillian looked on, completely unaware of his innermost feelings.

When the time finally came for his turn to say good-bye, he was like a schoolboy about to experience his first kiss. He felt awkward. Almost embarrassed by the situation. After all those days and nights of fantasy, the reality was now staring him in the face.

He bent to kiss her gently on the side of her face. He wanted desperately to move his mouth over to her lips. He watched them. They were covered in just the right amount of red lipstick. He was certain that for a moment he saw them quiver with expectation but he couldn’t bring himself to do more than brush the side of her cheek with his lips. He waited for a split second, breathing in her scent. Then he pulled away, once more aware of the presence of his young bride. She did not notice his reaction.

They both watched as she waved back at them while walking through customs, all the time completely unaware of the effect she had already had on their lives and the tragedy she had inadvertently set in motion.

Graham had always been an incurable romantic. But now his thoughts were working overtime. Janet consumed his waking hours. When Gillian turned to ask him a question, he ignored her – stuck in a fantasy trance. But this was no fairy tale. He was on his honeymoon, transfixed by another woman.

‘Let’s have a drink at the airport bar.’

Graham snapped out of his daze. Gillian sensed something was wrong.

However, that request to stop for a drink had an ulterior motive. For Graham wanted to see Janet’s plane as it took off for London. Like a child watching a huge airliner lift into the sky, waiting for a wave from one of those tiny round windows, Graham actually believed she might look out and see him down there.

He was already beginning to lose all sense of reality. He did not even know which side of the plane she would be sitting on. How on earth would she see him?

None of that mattered to Graham. He just wanted to feel that there might be a chance. That was enough to keep him there. Waiting for the opportunity of a glimpse.

They sat in sad silence at a table in the bar. Graham’s eyes kept darting towards the runway every time an aircraft taxied for take off. Gillian did not realise how attentive he was being because he wore sunglasses.

Finally her plane appeared on the tarmac.

He watched as the jet engines thrusted it forward, faster and faster towards the end of the runway. For a split second, it seemed to falter and Graham caught his breath with fear. Surely it wouldn’t crash. Please. God. No. The momentary jerk was a perfectly normal motion for the plane but Graham had feared catastrophe.

He stared through his sunglasses as it passed overhead. He felt as if someone had torn out his stomach.

He would not see her again until they returned to Orpington! He wasn’t sure he could cope. The pain was so great he doubled up as if suffering from some awful bout of indigestion.

Gillian looked over, concerned that he was in agony. If she’d been able to see behind those dark glasses, she would have noticed the tears welling up in his eyes.

He managed to wipe them away before they reached his cheeks. Gillian Philpott presumed her groom was in the middle of a hay fever attack.

That night, Graham Philpott lay in bed next to his wife wide awake. She had long since fallen asleep. But he could not relax. He could not switch his mind off.

Janet. Every minute. Every second. There she was. In her bikini. Smiling in the bar. Winking at him. Embracing him, running her fingers down his chest…

His appetite had gone. He told Gillian he had a stomach bug. But he knew he’d feel hungry when he saw Janet again.

He was tense. So anxious to see his wife’s twin sister. To feel her in his arms. To love her.

After hours of lying awake in the hot Bali night, Graham quietly slipped out from between the covers and crept across the room. The only noise was the constant blur of the air conditioning system and the crickets out on the balcony.

He sat down at the desk and took out some of the hotel note paper. He stared out of the window as he tried to put his thoughts in writing. After a few minutes the words started to flow.

‘When I looked into your face you had such a lovely look when I was stroking your cheek.’

He stopped writing for a moment. Pausing to make sure that what he had just written made sense. Then he went on.

‘It was such a soft expression and I think that must have been the first time certainly that I saw that and knew certainly that I must have completely fallen in love with you.’

It was a clumsy sentence but she would know what he meant.

Graham Philpott wrote for hours. He became so immersed in it, that he just gave up worrying what he would say to Gillian if she stirred from her slumber in the bed, just a few feet away.

Luckily, she slept soundly, unaware of the passionate love letter her husband was writing to her twin sister.

Janet wasn’t there to meet them at the airport. That was the first disappointment. He was desperate to see her. He needed her so badly. But at least he had the letters to give to her.

Then she did not respond when he tried to call her.

Perhaps she did not want him after all. Was it possible that her loyalty to her sister over-rode her feelings for him?

Graham was worried. He did not want to give either of them up. But, if he had to, he had already decided he would choose Janet first. She was the one who would become his lover. It was only a matter of time.

Then an incident occurred that seemed to confirm all his wildest fantasies. Janet asked if she could stay on at their house. The break up of her long term relationship had had a traumatic effect on her, she explained. To Gillian, it seemed a perfectly sisterly thing to say: ‘Yes.’

Graham could hardly contain his excitement. When she arrived at the front door, he took all her bags upstairs to the spare bedroom and layed them all out lovingly on the duvet.

Janet was surprised. Men normally didn’t bother. But she gave it little thought.

Those slightly wary feelings she had about Graham in Bali were long since gone. She was just grateful to have a place to stay. She did not really think he had a serious crush on her. Gillian, on the other hand, noticed that things seemed well… different.

A few weeks later they accepted an invitation to a neighbours’ party. It was a rare treat for the twins. Graham was not a great spender and the chance to dress up came but once or twice a month. As Janet came down the stairs wearing a pretty red dress, Graham looked up from the hallway.

‘Janet. You look marvellous. What a beautiful dress. You really know how to look good don’t you?’

His smile seemed never ending. He could not stop looking at her body. Admiring every aspect of it as she gave them both the customary twirl.

As Graham poured compliment after compliment out, Gillian stood beside him in the room. He had not said one word about her outfit. She felt upset by his neglect. But she put it down to thoughtlessness.

Parties in Orpington tended to be pretty staid affairs. When Gillian, Graham and Janet turned up at their neighbour’s semi-detached home, they were a breath of fresh air compared to the grey-looking people at the gathering.

Smartly, but sexily dressed, the two sisters prompted a number of glances from the mainly middle-aged men assembled. Graham was lapping up the attention. In his mind, he had not one, but two of the prettiest girls in the street on his arm.

More people began to arrive and the party picked up. Then the hosts turned up the music. The sixties sounds brought a lot of memories back for Graham. He watched as some of the couples danced in the front room. The effect of the alcohol had loosened their suburban outlook and some people were actually enjoying themselves. Gillian wandered off to talk to a friend. It left Graham on his own with Janet. For a moment, there was a difficult silence between them. He was lost for words. His love for her was so overwhelming that he didn’t know what to say. Anything would have sounded ridiculous. He could hardly blurt out ‘I love you’ in front of a crowded party.

Janet construed his silence as shyness. She decided to break the ice.

‘Why don’t we dance?’

It was an innocent enough request, but to a man as besotted as he was, it sounded like an gift from god. A confirmation of his delusion.

It was not as if they were even about to dance closely together. Janet would never have even considered that option. She simply intended to hop around to the music for a few minutes. Nothing more. She now knew he had a crush on her. It was obvious. She just hoped it would go away.

As they danced, Graham watched and soaked up the way she moved. From the twisting of her hips to the movement of her thighs, he could not take his eyes off her. Like a lot of men when they dance, he was barely moving. She had no idea he was examining her every move. Lusting after her. Imagining she was making love to him. But when she saw his eyes, they were a dead give away. They were boring deep into hers. She thought it was probably the effect of the drink. But it made her feel uncomfortable. She did not like being stared at so intently by any man – certainly not her brother-in-law.

To Graham there was no going back.

When a person is obsessed they lose sight of reality. They believe that every sign is significant. Every movement becomes yet more proof of affection.

Later, he tape recorded a message to her – referring to that fateful first dance.

‘It was the first time I really had an opportunity of dancing with you the way I really wanted to. God, I can feel it now. I think it is probably the best way I have ever danced. I was moving to the way your body was moving and I was certainly responding the way you were. If anyone was watching my eyes they must have known I was so in love with you.’

To Gillian Philpott, the signs were also becoming all too apparent. She had played the good samaritan and allowed her sister to stay at their home. Now she was abusing that hospitality by having what appeared to be a love affair with her husband. Gillian just could not believe the relationship was only one-way. It took two, that was her attitude. And now she was building up a hatred for them both.

It was December, 1989, and after just one year of married life, Gillian wished she had never agreed to the wedding. Everything was going wrong for them.

The marriage had just been a piece of paper, a confirmation of what they already knew. But now it seemed to have sealed their fate. She felt the relationship crumbling the moment they had returned from the honeymoon. He no longer listened to anything she said. Instead, he heaped praise on Janet constantly while barely acknowledging her existence.

Gillian would walk into rooms where they both were and become immediately struck by the overwhelming silence – as if they had been talking secretly until the moment she entered. At meal times, Graham would respond so lovingly to Janet’s conversation. Always looking deep into her eyes whenever they spoke. Gillian would just sit there. Neglected. Unwanted.

In bed at night it was just the same story. He wasn’t interested any more. Gillian came to the same conclusion millions of wives the world over do every day. She decided he must be seeing another woman – and it could only be Janet.

But, so far, she had no firm evidence. She had never caught them actually kissing. Not even touching and certainly nothing sexual. The torture of not knowing for sure was, in some ways, even worse than knowing for certain. At least then she could get on with her life and find another man. Start afresh. She was only 27. Easily young enough to meet and marry someone new. Someone who would make her happy. But, without any evidence, it was difficult to confront them.

Once, she cornered Janet on her own, while Graham was outside washing the car.

‘Are you having an affair with him? Just tell me the truth.’

Janet was astounded. She had no idea what her sister was thinking. As far as she was concerned, Graham had a silly crush. She would not have even entertained the thought of having an affair with him. As far as Janet was concerned, she had never once encouraged Graham. It was all in his head.

She assured her sister there was ‘no truth in it whatsoever’. But she knew that the atmosphere in that house could only get worse.

Gillian kept watching, waiting for the signs.

She became convinced her sister was lying. How could he get that infatuated with her unless she was returning his affections?

Gillian could not get the relationship out of her mind.

Janet and Graham had just gone out Christmas shopping together. That would give them all sorts of opportunities for a liaison. A chance to express their love for one another. He could even be assuring her that he would leave his wife.

All these thoughts were rushing through Gillian’s mind as she sat alone at the house one afternoon. She had to know one way or another. The anguish could not go on much longer. There had to be a way to find out for certain.

She went upstairs to Janet’s bedroom, determined to discover the truth. She felt no guilt as she systematically rifled through her twin sister’s bags. There had to be some evidence. Some shred of proof that they were having an affair. Underneath a pile of clothing in one case, she found an envelope. Inside it was a card. Something within her cried This is it.

On the cover, it looked like a perfectly normal Christmas card. But inside, the message was loud and clear ‘To my darling, I wish you every happiness at Christmas. I am so fortunate to spend my life with you always.’

Gillian began to cry. Now she had found out the truth, it really hurt. Maybe she should never have gone snooping for it in the first place.

Then she could have carried on in the hope they could mend their marriage. Now she was faced with the facts. But she had wanted to know. She had to find out.

The tears streamed down her face. The feeling of betrayal. The disappointment. But she had to get a hold of herself. She had to confront them. This was it. This was all the evidence Gillian required.

She went back downstairs and waited. She knew they had to come back from that shopping trip eventually. Then she would destroy them. She would tell them what she thought of them.

She first heard them approach as they walked up the short driveway to the house. Janet was laughing. Graham was telling her a joke and she was responding warmly. Gillian watched through the net curtains that hid so many secrets in the suburban world she lived in. It incensed her to see them so happy together.

As she heard the key being turned in the front door lock, she braced herself for her onslaught. This time they could not deny it. There was no way they could claim this Christmas card was anything other than a token of their love for one another.

Janet and Graham looked up and smiled as Gillian approached them in the hallway. But, within moments, they could tell that something was wrong. Gillian looked flushed with fury. The tears had long gone. Their place had been taken by seething anger. The time had come.

‘She’s got to go.’

Janet was stunned to hear what her twin sister – her own flesh and blood – was saying.

Graham was not so surprised. He knew it would come to this one day. He wanted it to reach a head, so that Gillian could no longer control it.

‘Then you will have to go as well.’

Graham’s voice was cool, collected. The words spoken almost silkily, but with menace underneath.

The tables had turned. Gillian – the one who had just discovered her sister was having what she thought was an affair with her husband – was now being made to feel like the villain.

For a few moments these three relatives looked at one another.

But the anger that had been building up inside Gillian had turned to fear. Fear that she was about to lose her home and her husband. Underneath it all, she hoped that by confronting them both she could drive Janet out of the house and then they could start afresh.

But now her world had been turned upside down. She was confused. She knew that deep inside, she still loved Graham – no matter what he had or had not done with her twin sister.

‘Please love me.’ She begged. ‘Not her.’

Gillian was feeling desperate now. Her sister had run upstairs to pack her things leaving the couple alone to face each other.

‘Have all the affairs you want, if I don’t satisfy you. But you’ll never find another woman who would do all the things I did for you.’

Gillian was getting hysterical. She was straining her face to avoid crying.

‘I’ll do anything you want to make our marriage work. You must believe me. I love you so much.’

Graham Philpott did not react to her pleas. Instead, he said coldly, ‘I want a divorce from you.’

Gillian was allowed to continue sleeping in the house – but only in the spare bedroom where her sister Janet had once slept. To all the neighbours in Mungo Park Way, who wished them ‘Happy Christmas’ when they passed in the street, Graham and Gillian Philpott seemed as close as ever that December. They went to a stream of parties in the area as man and wife – never once revealing the anguish of their break up.

Janet had left the house on the day of their big confrontation, never to return. She was as bemused as she was hurt by the whole episode. Graham flooded her life with cards and messages. His obsessive love had not in any way been dampened by those scenes at the house. Instead, he thought about how they would be together one day. He sent her a loving note saying, ‘Thank you for giving me a lovely year. It is so lovely living with you.’

It was signed: ‘From your loving Graham.’

Now, Gillian and Graham were keeping up a huge pretence to the outside world. Deceiving everyone into believing they were as happy as ever.

Christmas Day was a disaster. They barely spoke to one another. It was supposed to be a time of year for rejoicing. For Gillian and Graham it was a time for silence.

The only respite for both of them were the parties they attended in the neighbourhood. These seemed to provide them with an escape from the appalling situation at home. As soon as they arrived at any party, they would split up and head off for conversations with people on opposite sides of the room. It was a bizarre existence. No communication at home but a smiling veneer at every public function.

By the time New Year 1990 was almost upon them, the strain was really starting to tell.

On December 30, Gillian and Graham managed just enough conversation between themselves to agree to go to a neighbour for a drinks party. As usual, within seconds of arriving, they split up and headed in different directions.

But, as other guests were later to remark, they still made a point of making it absolutely clear just how much in love they still were. In one extraordinary conversation, Graham told a friend, ‘We are thinking of going to Bali for a second honeymoon.’ Perhaps he was thinking of Janet at the time? It was an astonishing remark to make when one considered the circumstances.

Gillian may have hated him for his obsession, but she still longed to live the rest of her life with him. She still wanted him to love her. To adore her. To want her. Even though they had not even slept in the same bed for weeks she lived in hope.

But the pressure of the situation was leading them both to drink excessively.

And at that neighbour’s party, they both went over the top…

It was two-thirty am by the time they stumbled into their house.

Graham was looking for an argument.

‘I just don’t care for you any more,’ he said. ‘We must get a divorce.’

They were standing in the hall. He was not giving her a single ounce of compassion.

Gillian longed for him. She really wanted to sleep with him that night. Feel his body next to hers. Feel the warmth and security they had enjoyed together for so many years.

‘Can I come to bed with you? Please.’

He did not reply.

‘Please let me sleep there tonight. I won’t go near you. I won’t touch you if that’s what you want.’

But Graham’s thoughts were only for Janet – even then.

‘I don’t want you. Can’t you understand that?’

He was shouting fiercely now.

‘I don’t want you.’ He kept repeating it over and over.

Even then Gillian felt a compulsion to try to please him in any way she thought might bring him back to her.

‘I’ll bring Janet back into the house. Anything.’

‘You’re a bitch. You should never have thrown Janet out.’

Gillian still kept pleading.

‘But surely this isn’t worth giving up eight years of happiness for?’

She was trying to appeal to his good sense now. The sensible side of him that made him such a right and proper person for his job. But he only wanted one thing now – the divorce settlement.

‘I’ve lost a house and money before. But this time, you’re entitled to nothing.’

That was the final straw for Gillian. He had switched this screaming match from the subject of love to money. In her mind, it showed just what he really thought of her. It proved that he was a cold, calculating man. Not the loving person she once knew so well.

He was shouting more at her now. He kept on and on about the money. She took the pink dressing gown cord from around her waist and gripped it tightly in her fist – just in case.

He was losing control. Everything he said was becoming increasingly hurtful. Then, as he swayed around in the room, he grabbed Gillian by the neck. She did not know if it was because he was falling or trying to throttle her. But she grasped the dressing gown cord in both hands and twisted it around his neck. He felt his throat tightening as the cord dug into his windpipe. Nothing would stop her now. There was no marriage to look forward to – he had seen to that. Gillian Philpott felt the urge to pull that cord tighter and tighter. She could see his eyes bulging outwards as he tried to free himself. But the surprise element had given Gillian just a few moments in which to seal his fate. He had already begun to die. He simply did not have the energy left to fight back.

She gave the cord one more sharp pull and her husband was dead.

It had all been so quick and, in a strange way, so painless.

For a few seconds she sat there stunned by her own actions. What had she done? It was awful as the feeling began to dawn on her. She had just killed Graham the man she once loved so dearly. The man who had given her the happiest days of her life.

But he had taken his own life. He had demanded death and been given it in the end.

Gillian looked at his twisted body on the floor and knew she had to do something to make him look as if he’d committed suicide. She wanted to die with him.

Using all her strength, she picked up his lifeless body by putting her arms under his and pulling hard. She stopped by the bannisters at the landing and tied a fresh, longer piece of cord around his neck.

Then she knotted the other end firmly to a bannister. It was no easy task to lift his 12 stone body over the edge of the rail. For minutes she struggled until, through sheer will power she managed to tip it over the edge.

Exhausted, she sat down on the bed for a few minutes, trying to compose herself so she could plan the next stage. She thought about Graham. What he meant to her. What, ultimately, she had ended up meaning to him. That gave her the strength to carry on. She got out a sheet of their headed notepaper and paused for a few seconds to decide what to write. It was not that difficult.

‘We couldn’t live separately. We wanted to die together. Please keep us together – I beg of you. We love one another so much.’

And she meant every word.

Gillian Philpott grabbed at the bottle of aspirins in the medicine cupboard. She was going to do it. She was going to kill herself. End it all. There was nothing left to live for.

She had lived through the worst nightmare of all and now it was time to say goodbye. To leave this world and all her problems behind. The note was written. Now she had to go through with it.

She struggled with the childproof cap of the aspirin bottle for what seemed like minutes, in a desperate effort to get at the tablets. Finally she managed to pull off the lid and put the bottle to her lips. The bitter tasting pills cascaded smoothly into her mouth. She stopped and took a huge swig from the bottle of whisky that stood on the table besides her. Soon she had finished off the bottle of about 30 pills and sat down to die.

She presumed that the tightness in her stomach was a sign that the tablets were getting into her bloodstream. Poisoning her permanently. She hoped it would be quick. Suddenly, a terrible nauseous feeling overwhelmed her. Her stomach began to spasm. Uncontrolable jerking movements. She could feel the bitter taste of the pills against the roof of her mouth. She vommited everywhere. A steady stream gushed out of her like an oil well.

She would have to try something else. The determination to end it all was still there.

It was early morning on 31 December, 1990. Gillian Philpott was trying to concentrate on the road as she drove the couple’s Ford Orion on the busy ‘A’ road full of New Year’s Eve traffic.

Just a few hours earlier, she had killed the husband she had always loved so much and then tried to kill herself. Unsuccessfully. Now she intended to finish off the job in such a way there would be no room for failure.

As she approached the cliffs of Beachy Head – a picturesque beauty spot on the Sussex coast renowned for suicide bids – she kept rehearsing her death plunge plans.

She wanted to make sure there was no mistake this time. She wanted to join Graham in heaven. At least Janet was not there.

There were quite a number of sightseers at Beachy Head that day watching hang gliders sweep majestically up into the skies from the cliff edge, hundreds of feet above sea level.

Gillian clutched onto the steering wheel as the car mounted the grass verge that led to the cliff edge. Her foot flat down on the accelerator, she willed the car forward as fast as it would go. This was the worst part. The waiting. The waiting to die.

She felt the car rear forward as the engine over-revved. Getting closer and closer to that leap into the unknown.

No one was watching the Ford. All eyes were on the hang gliders soaring on the thermals.

Gillian felt a weird sensation as the car got near the edge. It was a mixture of elation and fear. She was relieved it would soon all be over. But she was terrified of the pain she might have to endure before the moment of death.

Then it happened. The car lifted over the edge of the precipice. She was flying through the air. Totally out of control now. Completely unable to stop fate from taking a hand.

She felt her head hit the steering wheel as the car smacked the ground. Then everything went dark.

‘There’s a car in the bushes.’

The voice of the hang glider pilot was most emphatic.

Amateur photographer David Payne reacted immediately by rushing over to the place where the pilot had pointed.

Two policemen followed just seconds later and scrambled down to the Ford Orion. Gillian had been sick and was naturally distressed. But there was no lasting damage. Incredibly, she only sustained minor injuries after smashing her head on the steering wheel. The car had dropped only twenty feet onto a ledge that jutted out of the cliff.

It did not take long for forensic scientists to conclude that Graham Philpot had been murdered.

At the Old Bailey, in January, 1991, Gillian Philpott was found guilty of the manslaughter of her husband and sentenced to just two years imprisonment. Her sister Janet always emphatically denied having any sexual relations with Graham Philpott.

Dear Reader

In the latest from Blake’s terrifying True Crime Library, Wensley Clarkson exposes the strange minds of killer women. The beautiful bride who had to have it all, and so brought her marriage to a bloody end. The obsessed mistress, tortured with jealousy, who savagely assured her place as the only person in her man’s life. Or the housewife turned drug-runner, who stopped her husband informing on her operations… with a bullet.

These are women from every walk of life, a collection as diverse as they are deadly. All women who, before their crimes, were as different from each other as any group of people could be. Some loners, some seemingly innocent, others possessed of deadly logic.

But as you will find to your horrified astonishment, they are all united in passion and anger, by the deadly bond of murder…

James Ravenscroft

Editor

Blake’s True Crime Library