Flesh House

'Oh ...' 'Heather?' 'Yes?' 'Tell me about Justin again.' So she did: from the moment of conception, right through to when he was eighteen and off to university to become an architect. The life he'd never have. Then Kelley told the story of her little boy, and how it was all a mistake and the doctors gave him back to her and he grew up to be a famous actor. Then they sat quietly in the darkness, eating slices of the girl next door's murdered sister. And then Kelley asked,'What's she like? Your mum?' Heather grimaced. 'I never did anything right in her eyes. After Dad ... died, it was as if everything was my fault. She hated Duncan ...' Her cellmate was silent for a minute. 'I ... I lied to you. It wasn't my boyfriend who got me pregnant. I've never had a boyfriend. How pathetic is that? Forty-nine and I've never had a boyfriend ...' 'Kelley, it's not--' 'It was my father ... Mum died when I was six. And he ... he said he had needs ...' 'Oh Jesus.' Heather could hear her crying. She slipped her other hand through the bars, searching for Kelley's. 'I ... I cut all my hair off, dressed like a boy.' Sniff. 'But he was drinking so much ...' Deep breath. 'Then he had this accident. And ... and he got ... he got even worse.' 'Shhhh ...' Heather laced her fingers through Kelley's. 'It's OK. The bastard's dead right? The car crash?' 'No ... Social Services took me away from him when I was eight. I got ... I got adopted by a lovely old couple ... they never hurt me ...' Heather bit her bottom lip, but it didn't stop her own tears. To go through all that, and end up here, in the Dark, waiting for something horrible to happen. Waiting to die. 'Oh Kelley, I'm so sorry.' 'When ... when they ... after the crash my dad came to see me in the foster home ... He ... he was so drunk ... I couldn't stop him ...' Heather and Kelley held hands, both of them crying in the darkness as Kelley told how her father would visit his little girl every week until she got pregnant. After that, he never showed up again. It was strange: before all this - the kidnap, the prison, the Flesher, the Dark - Heather would never have cast herself in the role of avenging angel. She was soft and fat and weak. Someone to be ignored, or pushed about, walked all over. But if she ever got out of here, she swore she would track Kelley's father down and cut the bastard's heart out. Then eat it.

43

The Tuesday morning briefing was a pretty dismal affair - they now had two more victims: Sandra and Maureen Taylor from Dundee. Their flatmate had returned from a long weekend in Edinburgh to find the kitchen soaked with blood.