Flesh House

her shoulders, the faint light of his blood halo just strong enough that she could make out the bars. 'And then you'll be with Justin and me forever.' She looked at him, feeling the tears start to well up again. 'But I don't want to die ...' 'Shhhh ... it's OK - everyone dies, don't they?' He gave her a squeeze. 'Justin misses his mummy.' 'But--' 'Trust me, it'll all be OK. You just lie down and go to sleep.' Heather tried to do what she was told, but it was impossible. 'It stinks in here.' 'Shhhh ... sleep.' 'What if he never comes back?' 'It'll only hurt for a while.' Silence. 'Duncan, I'm scared ...'

19

They'd arrived early to get the best spot - down on the beachfront, right up against the crowd barrier. A bitter wind whistled in off the North Sea, making everyone shudder as they waited for the fireworks to start. Colin Miller pulled out a hip flask, took a swig, then offered it to Logan: rusty nail, the mixture of whisky and Drambuie going down like alcoholic central heating. 'He's getting a bit fussy,' said Isobel, wiggling something brightly coloured in front of her son's pushchair. Sean had been OK in Pizza Hut - smearing cheese and tomato all over himself, the table, and anyone daft enough to pass within reach - but they'd been standing out here in the cold for at least half an hour. Logan was surprised the kid wasn't screaming the place down by now. All around them people waved luminous blue lightsaber things - sparklers without the sparkle - taking photos of each other on their mobile phones. Colin checked his watch. 'Should've started by now, but.' The display had been set up in the lee of what looked like a Victorian concrete bus shelter, sitting below the level of the road, halfway between the Beach Ballroom and the arcades. On the other side of the barrier, people in luminous yellow jackets were fiddling with a long table of boxes and wires. 'Maybe no one remembered to bring matches with them?' 'Aye, or they've run out of milk bottles for the rockets.' Miller passed the flask over again. Someone tapped Logan on the shoulder, and he turned to find a grinning DC Rennie. 'Don't look so surprised,' said the constable, pulling his girlfriend through the crowd behind him,'we were speaking to McInnis: he said he'd told you this was the best spot to watch the show.' Rennie pointed at the girl beside him. 'You remember Laura?' The natural blonde who went like a bunny gave Logan a little wave. 'Hi.' Behind her a few more familiar faces from the station worked their way to the front, all looking as if they'd just come from the pub. Rennie wrapped his arm around the love of his life. 'And you'll never guess who we ran into ...' He pointed into the mass of lightsabers - a figure bundled up in a black padded jacket and black woolly hat was squeezing through, her face framed with dark curls, her nose and cheeks bright red. PC Jackie Watson.