Cover

Content note: this book contains the depiction of suicidal thoughts, coercive and manipulative relationships, and drug use.

About the Author

James Goodhand lives in Surrey with his wife and young son. A mechanic by day, much of his work has been written at an oil-stained workbench whilst ignoring a queue of broken cars in need of his attention. James’s debut novel, Last Lesson, was nominated for the Branford Boase Award.

Other books by James Goodhand

Last Lesson

Dedication

For Felix

Four’s a Crowd

Will Parks is no longer alone.

This is the precise instant it begins. He is being watched. Followed. Everywhere.

And he won’t be alone again until The End.

Will himself has not noticed anything change in these last few seconds. Why would he when there are so many more pressing matters to worry about? Not least that he’s stuck in a confined space with a girl he doesn’t even know.

He’s wedged in the back seat of his brother’s blue Fiat, the second car in the queue at the level crossing. The stereo plays way too loud, bassline pummelling Will’s back from the enormous speaker behind his seat. Frowning eyes stare from the rear-view mirror of the car ahead. His older brother, Danny, plumes vape smoke through his open window into the September evening. In the front passenger seat, a girl. She’s dressed up for a Friday night with Danny. Her name is April, although Will doesn’t know this yet. He’d only dared to look at her for the briefest of moments when they picked her up. She’s beautiful, though; that he knows. Of course she is. And she’ll be gone in a fortnight.

‘He loves them and leaves them’ – that’s what people say about Danny.

The train comes into view at last: an express scything across the marshes. It crosses in front of them in a blur, fast and close enough to make the little car rock on its springs. The flashing red lights switch to amber and Danny pulls away in his usual manner. Mr Unimpressed-Glare in front adds a small hand gesture to his expression of disapproval.

They rumble over the tracks into the part of town known as Patten’s Island to drop Will off, his plans somewhat less stimulating than what Danny no doubt has in mind. But they make it barely a hundred metres beyond the crossing before Will feels several thunks from somewhere beneath his feet. The car begins to slow. The smell inside, candy-flossy vape smoke and April’s perfume, is overpowered by the acrid whiff of mechanical failure. The stereo is suddenly silent as they come to rest, revealing a gathering chorus of horns from behind them.