‘They won’t believe either of us. You, because they think you’re an attention-seeker with a bee in your bonnet for the newcomers, and me because I’m gaga.’
‘We need hard evidence. We need to actually catch them in the act of whatever they’re doing, and call the police then.’
‘Oh, I think we have a pretty good idea of what they’re doing.’
‘You really think they’re killing people?’
‘I’ve seen the knife that they use to do it, and the skull of the thing that they’re doing it for.’
‘Well, if you want hard evidence, that’s simply done. Come on.’ She got up and marched off towards the Neary plot, spade in hand. David followed close behind. ‘Have you got your phone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Frankly, I don’t give a toss any more about whether they know I’ve broken into their bloody shed. If what I think is there, the cops will find it and it’s done. If not, it’s just you and me that’s done. Either way I’m finished buggering about. Here,’ she handed him the spade as they walked, ‘you’re stronger than I am.’
She’d worked her plot here for nearly forty years – she’d seen newcomers arrive and give up within weeks or else go on to become long-timers like herself with decades of their lives in this soil. She’d seen their sheds go up, come down, move, fall apart, and be replaced. She’d seen plots merge and split, seen the families in the surrounding houses grow and leave and be replaced just like the fruit trees that she’d seen grow from seed, blossom and fruit for year after year, and then die. She’d watched people making love on their allotment when they thought nobody could see them, and she’d helped a woman bury the corpse of her murdered husband in one of them. This was her land, and someone was poisoning it right beneath her feet, and she meant to do something about that.
As they approached the Neary plot she saw Shane and Jason ambling over from the other direction to join them. Shane had a rake resting over his shoulder, and Jason had a one-handed claw-trowel, and at first she thought they had come to help – or out of simple curiosity at least – until she heard David muttering angrily under his breath and remembered that these two were now members of the newcomers’ chosen few. They were just a little bit closer and faster than Dennie and David, and were standing in the way of their approach to the newcomers’ shed by the time they got there.
‘Afternoon, David,’ said Shane with a neighbourly smile.
‘Dennie,’ said Jason, nodding at her.
‘How are things?’ Shane added, still smiling. ‘How’s Alice doing?’
‘She’s good, thanks,’ David replied curtly. ‘Safely out of harm’s way now.’
‘Oh, that’s fabulous! Really glad to hear it!’
David moved to step around him, and the rake came down off Shane’s shoulder ever so casually, blocking his way.
‘Where you going there, Dave?’ he asked, more quietly.
‘Not really any of your business,’ David replied. ‘Fancy getting out of my way?’
Shane shook his head, still smiling. ‘Looks to me like you’re set to do mischief to our neighbour’s shed. I don’t know why you’d want to do such a thing, but I couldn’t let that happen. What kind of neighbour would that make me?’
‘The kind that doesn’t get his head kicked in,’ David growled, and tried to push the rake aside but Shane got behind it, and he weighed a good couple of stone heavier.
‘Oh, don’t be so bloody stupid,’ said Dennie, and started around Jason, who stepped to meet her and grabbed her by the arm. She found the claw-trowel’s three sharp tines pressed against her stomach.
‘Please don’t do this,’ he whispered. His grip was painfully tight. Was this the strength that he got from being one of those who had eaten the first flesh? Or it might have simply been that he was a good forty years younger.
Viggo’s growl was the subterranean approach of something massive threatening to burst out and engulf the man. She could feel her dog trembling with fury through her grip on his collar, and she looked Jason square in the eye. ‘You might want to rethink that, son,’ she said.
Jason released his grasp.
‘And I’ll scream blue murder if you don’t let us go right this minute,’ she added.
‘And what good will that do?’ asked Shane. ‘Other than involve innocent people who might get hurt? How many do you think there are around you right now who didn’t receive Moccus’ blessing that first time and who haven’t since? Not many. Mother has been having lots of dinner parties.’
Dennie looked around. All of the allotment tenants she could see were just getting on with their normal Sunday; digging, raking, weeding. If anybody had looked this way would they see anything other than four neighbours getting together for a bit of a chin-wag in the sun?
‘Someone will call the police,’ she said, but didn’t even sound convincing to herself.
‘And what will the police see? A silly old woman with a history of erratic behaviour and a man who they’ve already had to talk to once for making hoax phone calls? You want to keep a close hold of that dog of yours, Dennie. If he goes for someone then we really will have to call the police and they’ll have to put a bullet in his head.’
David snarled, grabbed the rake handle and tried to shove past him, but the strength of Moccus’ blessing within him was matched by that in Shane, who easily held him at bay. Between them they gripped the rake like two of Robin Hood’s merry men fighting over a quarterstaff. ‘Seriously, Shane,’ he said, ‘what’s happened to you, man? We used to be mates. You and Jase have babysat for
