This rancid flesh wasn’t chicken.
It was human.
8 February 1983
I wished I could stop but I could not.
I had no other thrill or happiness.
Denis Nilsen
I’ve crashed to the bottom of the barrel,
I’ve got feelings that could kill . . .
Harlow
47
IT SOUNDED LIKE an explosion.
As Rob Gibson heard the first rumble of thunder, he turned in his chair and looked out at the slate-grey sky.
Rain was already pelting down on the Velux windows of his office. Beating out a machine-gun tattoo on the glass.
He stood up and looked out, seeing the first phosphorescent shaft of lighting tear across the heavens. It looked like a luminescent vein against the mottled grey flesh of the sky.
Rob thought about Becky. She was terrified of thunderstorms. Had been since she was a baby.
He remembered, on more than one occasion during the last five years, how he and Hailey had woken to find she had climbed into bed between them. Or was crying for them in her own room.
Rob himself had gone in to comfort her the last time. Cuddled her and held her close. Told her that the storm was nothing to worry about.
The thunder, he’d told her, was just the clouds bumping together. Then he’d taught her the trick his father had taught him. The one where you counted between the flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder, so you could tell how far away the storm really was.
He’d stayed with her for an hour or more that night, counting the seconds between each flash and rumble. Counting the miles as the storm moved away. Then he’d sat in silence beside her bed until she fell asleep.
The thought of it brought a smile to his lips.
Hailey would be thinking about her too, he guessed.
The rain hammered even harder on the roof and windows, as if trying to break through them.
He wondered precisely what she was doing, how her meeting was going.
He watched the sky, washed out by so much rain. The clouds that only promised more.
Rob glanced at his watch. He’d be home in another three hours. He’d see them both.
His wife and his daughter.
He smiled again.
The office door opened and he turned slowly to see who it was.
Sandy Bennett looked at him and smiled.
He didn’t return the smile.
‘Am I missing something?’ she asked.
‘I was just watching the rain,’ he told her.
‘The storm’s getting worse. I think we’re in the best place. Although I could think of one better.’
She pushed the office door shut and moved across to his desk.
‘Like where?’ he wanted to know.
‘Bed. We’d be nice and cosy tucked up in bed together.’
‘What do you want, Sandy? I’m busy.’
‘I typed up that stuff you wanted, and there’s a couple of faxes.’ She handed him the sheets of paper, touching his hand as she did so.
‘Is that it?’ he said, glancing at the fax communications.
‘I wondered if you might want to nip round for a drink tonight. You could always call Hailey and tell her you’d got a meeting or something.’
He regarded her impassively.
‘Yeah, I
‘Rob, I know how you feel. I know you didn’t want to stop what was going on between us. If Hailey hadn’t found out, we’d still be together.’
‘We were never
‘Don’t tell me it isn’t a problem for you, too,’ she hissed. ‘Because I don’t believe you. You see me here every day, and you still want me.’
‘You’re right about one thing: it
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I’m doing it. Don’t come in tomorrow, Sandy. I mean it. I’m doing what I should have done when all this first happened. Hailey was right.’
‘I thought it
‘I tell you what: don’t wait until tomorrow. Get your stuff and go now.’
Sandy held his gaze for a moment, then spun round and left his office, slamming the door behind her.
Rob stood up, watching, as she crossed to her desk, picking up her handbag, pulling on her jacket. He saw Frank Burnside peering out, also watching the activity.
Then Sandy was gone.
Burnside had already left his office. Rob met him at the door.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Burnside wanted to know.
‘Come in, Frank,’ Rob said quietly. ‘I’ll explain.’
Outside, there was another loud rumble of thunder.
Redemption
