‘Have you chosen a replacement for Wayne?’
‘I’ve been too busy dashing round sorting out all his cock-ups. Did you know he hasn’t bothered to confirm bookings for Thursday and Friday next week? The studio will be lying idle for two full days. At this rate we might as well rent it out to a farmer to store his spuds. We’d earn more.’ He drained his glass and refilled it again, reaching the end of the bottle. ‘Is it me,’ he muttered with no trace of humour, ‘or are wine bottles getting smaller? This didn’t last two minutes.’ He headed for the kitchen like he dearly wished he could find some underling there to thrash within an inch of their life.
More thunder broke across the horizon. Still no visible lightning; no rain either. The daylight took on a greenish tinge as it seeped through thick cloud.
Eden and Heather sat and looked at each other in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.
Heather had taken several bites of her sandwich, and was chewing listlessly when she swallowed, frowned and stiffened. ‘He’s been a long time.’ She called out in the direction of the living room door. ‘Curtis? Everything all right through there?’ She stood up, ‘Curtis?’
Eden listened. ‘I think he’s gone through to your lab.’
On the word ‘lab’ Curtis punched open the door. His face seemed to pulsate with rage. ‘What the hell are you playing at with this?’ He brandished the fragments of skull that Eden had glued together. ‘Is it meant to be a joke? Is it?’
‘Curtis,’ Heather began. ‘I planned to tell you later. We’ve made a real breakthrough about this site. Did you know that nearly two thousand years — ’
‘I’m not interested. I’ve got real problems! I’ve got trouble with cash flow, with staff, with yawning great bloody gaps in studio bookings. All you do is make freaks out of old bones.’ He turned on Eden. ‘Idiot girl! I warned you about this ridiculous idea about werewolves and dog men. This is our home! Not a venue for your moronic, make-believe games.’
‘Curtis!’ Eden fired back with equal vigour. ‘It’s not make-believe. It’s not werewolves. Heather and I have found out about this place. It was sacred ground to the Romans.’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this. My business rates are overdue. I get assaulted by my own staff. And you babble about sacred ground. Listen, this is our home, an ordinary house built on ordinary dirt. And I’ve got to earn money to pay for its upkeep.’
‘But it is important. We found out that Heather’s mother was warned off from researching its history. The locals want to keep what happened here a secret.’
He brandished the section of rebuilt skull, with the thick eye ridge above vast eye sockets. ‘I’m warning you both. No more of this. Okay? Eden, there’s a train at eight in the morning. You’re going to be on it.’ He ripped the glued pieces of bone in two with his bare hands, his eyes blazed. At the same time, thunder smacked against the house like a bomb. ‘Now I’m throwing this in the bin. The rest of the blasted bones are joining it.’
He pounded out of the house. Heather ran after him, pleading that he calm down. Eden followed. A sense that events were running out of control gripped her now.
Outside, the crash of thunder became even more violent. A cacophony that made Heather clutch the side of her head. They pursued Curtis across the garden to where he flung back the lid of the wheelie-bin.
‘You might as well watch this!’ Fury as well as drink flushed his face crimson. ‘I’m not taking any more!’
Before he could hurl the bones into the bin full of discarded cartons, pizza crusts, and potato peelings he stopped. His eyes looked past the women, locking onto something behind them.
Eden spun round to see what it was, only whatever it was moved far too swiftly. An impression of a flitting shadow; nothing more.
Curtis stared, his eyes bulging. Even he wasn’t sure what he’d seen. Only it had been enough to stop him dead. He’d gone from rage to silence in one second flat.
Heather had been the last to notice. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Something came across the lawn,’ Eden breathed.
Curtis recovered from his surprise. ‘Eden, did you see that?’
‘Not clearly.’
His anger flared. ‘Some idiot ran through those bushes. What on Earth are they playing at?’ He’d forgotten all about the pieces of skull in his hand now. Instead, he advanced toward the shrubbery. Almost to himself he said, ‘But did you see how fast he ran? Like a hare!’
Heather caught her husband by the arm to prevent him plunging headlong into the vegetation. ‘Curtis, hold on. Did you see who it was?’
He shook his head. ‘I only half saw. Nothing properly. A shape… just a hell of a fast one.’
‘I’m glad I found you.’ A figure bustled through the garden gate.
Curtis groaned. ‘Hezzle. I should have known. If it’s one of your blasted mutts… ’
Mr Hezzle’s eyes were huge in his head. Even the weak one that had barely opened when Eden first met him seemed to poke right out from the socket, a veined orb with a fierce black pupil. ‘Back to the house… inside… quick!’
‘What?’ Curtis had no intention of moving.
‘Get into the house. Straight away… go on, get inside. Lock all the doors.’ Despite his advanced years, he ran past Heather’s excavation pit. ‘Inside, quick! Lock the doors!’
There was something about his manner. An utter conviction that somehow sent them back through the door into the kitchen. Mr Hezzle didn’t so much as follow as push them indoors. Once they were safely in he slammed the door shut behind them.
‘Lock it!’ He shouted so loud that the thunder seemed tame in comparison. Eden moved fastest, she shot the bolts across top and bottom.
Mr Hezzle sucked air through his large nose, his chest heaved. ‘Are all the other doors locked? Windows, too?’
‘What is this?’ Curtis spat the words. ‘This is
‘Lock them.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Eden flew round the ground floor. Fortunately all were locked. A moment later she was back in the kitchen to find Mr Hezzle drawing the blinds.
‘Hezzle. Tell us what on Earth is going on!’ Curtis was on the verge of committing violence.
‘He’s out!’ Mr Hezzle slammed his hand down on the kitchen table. ‘He knows you took the bones from the mausoleum!’
Curtis snarled. ‘Mausoleum? What the hell are you talking about?’
The old man turned to Eden, ‘The lass knows. She told me he came here this week. He sniffed at the doors. He could tell the bones were inside. She said he tried to break in.’
The eyes of her uncle and aunt flicked to the smashed security glass in the door.
‘It was just some local drunk,’ Curtis snapped. ‘Pay no attention to Eden here; she’s away with the fairies… as stupid as her scatter-brained mother.’ Both wine and emotion freed his tongue. ‘And you can get off my property, Hezzle. You outstayed your welcome a long time ago.’
Eden squared up. ‘Curtis, you’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. You think you know everything; in reality you’re as narrow-minded and as prejudiced as they come.’
‘That does it. Eden, I’ll drive you to the station.’
‘In that state? You’re drunk.’
‘Drunk? You little bitch.’
Heather squealed. ‘Something ran by the window.’
Curtis glared at the man. ‘His dog I suppose.’
‘No… ’ Heather turned to Mr Hezzle, her eyes huge with fear. ‘Mr Hezzle, what was it?’
But Eden answered first, ‘The First Man. That’s right isn’t it, Mr Hezzle?’
Heather gave a pained grunt. Her eyes stayed locked on Eden’s face as if she’d just screamed a blasphemy.
Curtis shook his head. ‘Here we go… ’ He grabbed the bottle from the table and poured himself another
