‘Penny?’
She knew what he was about to ask.
They were back in Phoenix Court. All around the dark cul-de-sac there were garden gates slamming shut. The neighbours were calling good night to everyone. Their voices were going out to each other in a way they rarely did. They were checking on each other. This search had got to people. Big Sue had been the first to leave, worn out and emotional. Charlotte from the bungalow said she was going through a crisis of faith and she helped her home. Everyone, in fact, was looking slightly shaken as they made their way back from the Burn.
‘I can’t go back with Vince tonight,’ Andy said.
‘No…’
Something deadening and awful had been happening to those two down in the woods, too. It was as if they had worn each other down, just in the few days they had been together. Once Vince had left them alone, Andy muttered a few things to her about him. He sounded as if he didn’t even like Vince. And me, Penny thought, I don’t know Andy at all. He could be anyone. She felt burdened with him.
Up at Phoenix Court the searchers were going in and turning on their lights, their kettles, their tellies. Pressing their doors and windows closed against the night. The sky was an inky blue, a brush dropped in a jar of water. Penny shivered. She was tingling despite herself. That didn’t bode well.
Andy asked, ‘Is there any chance of staying at yours?’
‘Sure,’ she said. She led the way up the path, feeling in her bag for the key.
Andy felt awful about this. Penny didn’t know him from Adam.
Penny was saying, ‘About these creatures you said you saw coming out of the tree…’
There were no lights on. Strange.
He sounded defensive. ‘What about them?’
Penny stepped inside. ‘Mam?’ The kitchen was dark and bleak, full of scraps and used crockery from the night before.
‘I see those animals, too,’ Penny told him absently. It was something they had in common, so she thought she would tell him. She put the lights on.
‘It’s a lovely house,’ said Andy politely. ‘You and your mam have got it lovely.’
‘It’s all right.’ Penny smiled, shrugging her coat off. ‘Do you want coffee?’
‘I want a proper drink.’
‘I wish Vince had passed his booze around out there. He was really hogging it.’ She went to the dresser and fetched the brandy.
‘He can be a piss-head when he likes.’ Andy snorted. ‘I can’t believe he just stomped off like that.’
‘Was he really pissed off?’
‘Oh, he gets these black moods. Acts like a bastard. When he can’t see the good of anything. It’s when he thinks he’s losing out on something.’
Penny was pouring out the brandy. It was only when she saw Andy’s eyes had gone wide she realised she’d poured it by magic. ‘No hands!’ she said, with an embarrassed laugh, and passed him his glass. ‘What does he think he’s losing?’
‘Me… probably. I dunno. He shouldn’t. I’m here when he wants me. I always was.’
‘So tell me!’
‘But he doesn’t want me, Penny. Not really. He’s just tried to convince himself of that.’
She showed him somewhere comfortable to sit. ‘I think he’s in a bad way,’ she said thoughtfully.
Andy tutted. ‘That makes me feel a whole lot better!’
‘Ring him!’
‘Nah.’
‘Maybe you should.’
‘I’ll see him tomorrow. He’ll still be arsey tonight. There’s no talking to him.’
Penny fingered the stem of her glass, frowning. Her fingernails tingled and buzzed like crazy.
So the sky was a very deep blue. A light night. Light enough for us to see. We ventured out about midnight. Ventured. That’s not my word. Can’t you tell? Ventured is the Dog Man’s word. We ventured outside, dressed up. The only thing missing was my locket. Elsie and Meg, give me strength — wherever you are.
I’m cold now. But that will pass. Disguises are not for warmth, they’re for show. No one has seen us yet. We walk proud, waiting for attention. He rubs his body against me as we walk. He is friendly. Happy. I’m giving happiness to him, just walking like this.
Across the road a woman comes out with her empty milk bottles. Big Sue. I can sense her straining her eyes to see us. We pass by the bus shelter. She slams her kitchen door and the light goes out.
We go for quite a long walk. There’s a full moon. I’m on the top of the world, the world moves beneath me. I’m in a film and music plays about me, my smile on the screen. This is how I live now. And for ever.
I will go out walking, the Dog Man by my side.
Life is wonderful.
Frank put the kids to bed. Fran was drinking herself drunk. Past midnight he came down to see her and she was staring at the gerbils. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, wary of her lashing out. When he saw her like this he wanted to take her up to bed. He wanted her gripping him the way she did, fierce and almost cruel. She burned, deep down. Whenever he reached to touch her cunt it was the hottest he’d ever known. It surprised him every time.
‘I’ve remembered something,’ she said, and Frank realised that she wasn’t of a mind for going up to bed.
‘I thought you were going to say that you’ve killed Nesta yourself, the way you’re going at that bottle. What have you remembered?’
‘I’ve given the police wrong information.’
‘On purpose?’
‘I’d forgotten the last time that I really saw Nesta. It wasn’t when I chucked her out of the house. It was later on. When we went on our night out. When me and Jane and Liz got on the bus.’
Frank took hold of her shoulders, not sure why. ‘Where?’
‘She was in the bus shelter. Just after nine o’clock.’
‘Catching a bus?’
‘No. She was talking to your mate. The army man. Gary.’ Frank’s grip slipped. ‘He’s not my mate.’
‘Whatever he is, Frank, it’s him. It’s got to be him.’
‘It’s got to be him who
