embarrassed about obeying a stranger’s orders in his own home. Bravado was beginning to take hold.
“My name is Erik Best. Now shut the fuck up and tell me your name, and what you’re doing with Abby Hansen.” He waited, staring at the man. Still smiling, his hands open but ready for action.
“I don’t have to tell you anything. Get out, or I’ll call the police.”
Erik sighed theatrically and looked over at the phone. “Go on,” he said. “Try it. I reckon that phone’s about ten yards from where you’re standing. I’m five yards away from you. If you think you can make it across the room, pick up the phone, and tell them what’s going on before I get to you… well, you’re welcome to try it. I could do with the workout.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was done for effect, but it also made him feel ready to pounce, like an animal in the wild. His leather shoes creaked. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds.
The man shifted his gaze away from the phone and looked back at Erik. “My name’s Marc Price. Now, would you please just leave?”
Erik shook his head. “I’m not planning to hurt you, Marc. Not this time, anyway. All I want is information. Understood?”
Price nodded. He backed away; just a step, but it betrayed his intense fear. “I don’t know what you’re after, but I have no money. Look at this house — it’s a shithole. I don’t even own it. There’s nothing of value here.”
“Right, let’s just relax. Now tell me what you’re doing hanging around Abby Hansen’s place, marra. Can you do that?”
“We… she… we’re friends.” He looked down, at the top of his shoes. His cheeks flushed. He’d been caught out and he knew it.
“So you picked her up last night, went back to her place and had a good shag?”
Price nodded. He didn’t look up.
“It’s okay. Like I said, I’m not going to hurt you. This is simply a warning. Okay, marra?”
Silence; the slow
Price looked up. His eyes were wide. His mouth was open, the lips slightly apart. Those lips were trembling.
“Leave her alone, marra. She’s had enough trouble over the years and doesn’t need any more. You don’t know her. You have no idea what she’s been through. She doesn’t need fly-by-night fuckers like you stuffing one up her and taking the piss out of her grief.”
Price tried to inflate his chest. He took a deep breath. “Listen, mate, I’m sure Abby can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl. She doesn’t need someone like you looking after her. Let me guess… are you the ex- boyfriend that came round there earlier? Maybe one of those sad bastards she told me about, the ones who won’t take no for an answer.” There was sweat on his brow and his upper lip. “The kind of bloke who follows her around like a lost puppy, trying to catch a sniff of her so he can wank about it later.”
Erik sighed; he shook his head.
Was he going to have to use violence after all, simply to get his point across to this idiot?
He planned the moves in his head: a brisk step inside, throw a quick, short uppercut to the chin; step back out again, deliver a hard right hook to the side of the head. Easy, so fucking easy… The kid wouldn’t get back up for a long time.
He smiled. “This is a friendly warning, marra. Next time I won’t be as gentle.” He clenched his hands into fists, raised them to stomach level. It would be good to knock the fucker out, but that wasn’t his purpose today, not if he could help it. “Next time I won’t come to your house. I’ll wait somewhere else for you, the place you’d least expect to see me. In fact, you
“I don’t want any hassle.” Price’s posture was loose now; he’d finally lost his nerve. He wanted to run; it was obvious in the way he was carrying himself. No violence was required, after all. “We just fucked, mate. That was all. It was a one-night stand. I believe she’s had a few others in the past… that’s what she told me. I’m not the first… no way will I be the last.”
Erik winced, and he hated himself for showing his emotions to this stranger.
Abby was so easy; she always gave herself away so damned cheaply, and to men who didn’t even realise how special she was. He clenched the muscles in his jaw, ground his teeth together. “Just let that one fuck be the last, and then we won’t have any problems, you and me. Got that, marra?”
Price’s gaze flickered back and forth, as if he were looking for a weapon. Part of Erik hoped that he spotted one and tried to use it. He didn’t like the way the bastard was talking about Abby; he showed no respect for her, as if his night in her bed had meant nothing.
“Yeah…” Price’s shoulders relaxed. He deflated fully; his shoulders slumped, his chest shifted inward. The bravado was fading; the fight was leaving him quicker than it had arrived. “Yeah, okay. I don’t need this shit. Not for the sake of an opportunist fuck.”
“Now, tell me what you’re doing sniffing around the Grove.”
Price ran a hand through his hair. He was a good-looking guy. This made Erik dislike him even more. “Listen, I’m a freelance reporter. I’ve been researching a book. That’s all. Nothing suspicious about that, is there?”
Erik laughed. “You’re writing a book about the Concrete Grove?” His anger dissipated; there’d be no blood spilled today. He wasn’t even in the mood. “Jesus Christ, marra, that’s a good one.”
“No, no… Not exactly. I’m writing a book about the Northumberland Poltergeist. Ghosts are back in fashion — I’m just trying to jump on the bandwagon and make some quick cash.” He shrugged, still afraid but calming down a little, realising that he was not going to be beaten up.
Erik shook his head. “Man, that’s fucking priceless… The Northumberland Poltergeist. I haven’t heard that name in years.”
“Now,” said Price, raising his open hands, pointing at the door. “Would you mind getting the fuck out of my house? You’ve done what you came here to do: I’m scared. I’m terrified, actually, if it makes you feel any better. I won’t be messing around with Abby again. Now, just leave me alone.”
Erik paused, and then he turned and walked out of the room. When he reached the door he opened it, turned around, and said “Remember what I said. Oh, and don’t even think about doing anything daft, like phoning the police.” He took the silence as an affirmative response and shut the door behind him as he left the house.
Walking back towards his car, he looked up at the sky. The clouds were dark, troubled. He knew how they felt. His entire life was nothing but trouble — one long succession of bad things, queuing up to make their mark. Situations like this one happened to him all the time. It often felt as if he was dogged by bad things, like stray cats following him in a line along the street.
Erik unlocked the car and got inside. He turned on the engine and killed the radio, and then just sat there, staring at the sky, at those grumbling clouds, waiting for more trouble to come for him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARC TOOK A bottle of whisky from the cupboard in the kitchen and opened it. His hands were shaking; his mouth was dry. He didn’t like violence, never had. Before the accident, his old man had been quick with his fists, especially on points of honour. He’d even hit Marc a few times when he was a small boy, but he was certain it didn’t run in the family.
Some people thought of Marc as a coward, but that wasn’t quite true. Hadn’t he just stood up to that psycho who’d forced his way inside the house? Well… sort of. Until his nerve had gone.
No, he wasn’t a coward. He just hated physical violence. He was terrified of it. He’d seen the results of true violence a lot in his job, particularly when he’d worked on the crime pages. Beatings, murders, suicides… he’d reported all kinds of messy situations. He knew what a gunshot wound looked like, and had examined stab wounds at close range. Once he’d even stood there while a young woman who’d thrown herself in front of a truck on a busy motorway was scraped up off the road by policemen armed with snow shovels.
He poured an inch of whisky into a glass, and then added another inch because he knew the first wouldn’t last long. He took a swallow and felt the pleasing burn in his throat. It felt good, purifying. He’d always liked the taste of good malt whisky, and right now it tasted even better than ever. The drink was good medicine for whatever
