The Need to Be Nice




rayson Kelly understood the need to be nice. Job interviews, weddings, funerals, meetings, dinner parties. All required him to be polite, even when he didn’t want to be. He was even nice to Greg Simmons, the loathsome husband of his only sister, Joyce. ‘If his food isn’t on the table the moment he walks in from work, he goes mad,’ Joyce told Grayson two weeks after Greg had moved into her flat. A month later, they were married, and there was nothing Grayson or his brother, Mike, could do about it, apart from wait. Wait for the divorce, which never came. Three years went by. Greg got fatter and more angry. Joyce got thinner and more miserable. ‘We’ll have to kill him,’ was Grayson’s unequivocal response to the situation, while drinking whisky round his brother’s house one night. ‘We can’t just kill someone,’ objected Mike.Grayson shook his head. ‘He’s six foot four and weighs over three hundred pounds. We’d have no chance.’ ‘I’m not saying fight him. Just talk to him.’ ‘You can’t talk to people like Simmons.’ ‘We’ll call the police then!’ said Mike. ‘I’m sure they’ll deal with it,’ exclaimed Grayson sarcastically, slamming his hand down on the table. ‘Him and the other million wife beaters.’ ‘But Grayson,’ said Mike. ‘We can’t just kill someone. We’ll go to prison.’