sound.
The noise made the woman turn towards him. She saw the gun levelled at her, and panicked.
She shouted in terror to her child, trying to twist round on the heavy log, to get across to the little boy, but she seemed paralysed by her fear. The boy, thinking it was still a game, dashed away from her. The woman's voice became a hoarse roar, then, after she had sucked in her breath, she was incapable of further sound.
Teresa thought, Grove has never handled this gun before!
He was holding it onehanded, like an untrained beginner. She corrected him instinctively.
She steadied his gunhand by gripping his wrist with his free hand, she forced him to alm a little low, to allow for the recoil, and
she made him relax his trigger finger, made him squeeze the trigger, not jerk it.
As the woman at last scrambled away from the log, Grove shot her in the head, then turned his gun on the child.
She was back in the stolen car, with the gun hot on the seat beside her. Teresa's mind was racing defensively: It's only a scenario! lt was real but it's not real now, it happened before, the woman knew nothing, there was nothing I could do to stop it, 1 must not interfere, Grove must continue, that woman and her child were not hurt, it's all imaginary. They were dead months before 1 came to England; Grove killed them without my assistance.
Yet she knew Grove would almost certainly not have killed them without her intervention.
'Shut that fucking noise!'
In her distress she allowed herself to spread forward in Grove's mind, so she could ride in the forefront of his thoughts, to witness his actions without interference. If she went too far forward she became as one with him, Jointly responsible; too far back and she became detached from his raw motives, and so became capable of influencing him. How to strike a balance between the two?
As Grove drove towards Bulverton, Teresa repeatedly shifted mental position, trying to find the place where she could observe most closely without feeling the pressure against her of that hot breath of banal cruelty.
When she was forward, what appalled her most was his lack of reaction to what he had just done. She was still squirming in horror at what she had witnessed, but Grove was complaining to himself. he'd stolen the wrong car, a pile of shit, fucking exhaust making a lot of fucking noise, the only money he had was the forty quid he'd nicked but he didn't want to spend that because he was going to celebrate
later. Where's that bitch Debra? Bet that Mark shafted her last night, the bastard, need more money, should have looked through that woman's bag ...
ill trying to settle somewhere in his mind
Teresa was st' when he slowed the car and swung lt on to the forecourt of a Texaco filling station. Another car was leaving, waiting with its nose out in the main road, indicating left.
The driver
glanced up at Grove as he passed.
Grove stopped the Montego at an angle across the pumps, making lt difficult for any other car to drive in from that direction, then picked up the handgun and walked across to the shop.
A young woman with dark hair Margaret Lee, who had refused to be interviewed by Teresa was sitting alone at the tin, skimming through a magazine spread on the counter in front of her. She looked up as Grove strode towards her between the racks of magazines and bars of chocolate, and saw the gun at once.
After a moment of uncertainty, she leapt back from the counter, one arm flailing in the air. In the same instant, a grey metal security barrier came rattling noisily down from the ceiling and crashed on to the surface of the counter. Several small items stacked there display cards with special offers, airmile vouchers, a box of ballpoints scattered across the floor as they were dislodged.
Teresa felt Grove's anger rising, and he fired the gun several times at the barrier. The bullets made visible dents, lodging in the mesh surface without penetrating. Grove raced across to the barrier and bashed it with his elbow. lt hardly budged.
There was a large notice printed in the centre of the barrier, which Grove scarcely glanced at, but which Teresa could read.
This security barrier is bulletproof, fireproof and
soundproof
IT CANNOT BE REOPENED BY THE STAFF
Do not attempt to force it
An automatic alarm message has been sent to emergency
services
Grove uselessly fired two more bullets at the barrier, then looked around for something to steal. There was a tall refrigerator cabinet filled with drinks, so he shattered its glass door with a couple of rounds. He reached inside and took out two cans of Coke. He kicked at one of the heavy display stands, but succeeded only in shoving it a short distance across the floor. He grabbed some magazines, and thrust them under the arm of his gunhand.
He walked unhurriedly across the forecourt to the Montego, and opened the front passenger door. He threw the stuff he had stolen inside, then laid the handgun on the floor of the car, between the front seats.
He opened the luggage compartment and took out the rifle Holding it with the muzzle aloft, he made a show of snapping the ammunition clip into place, and cocking the weapon. Traffic went by on the main road, only a few yards away, the people inside the vehicles apparently noticing nothing.
Teresa, in Grove's mind, seated immovably behind his eyes, saw everything.
She eased forward to try to enter his mind, but shrank away. His mind was blank, insofar as any mind, can be
