She laughed, but there was no smile. She let him look into her eyes and see what she was. It was the moment she most relished, the moment they realized it was over, the moment they saw that evil was real, and that it lived in her.

It gave her an intense surge of pleasure, the release of a deep tension.

‘It doesn’t matter, Ned. Not to you, anyway.’

She groaned, then swung the hammer, claw first, into his disbelieving eye.

After that it was over quickly. She cleaned his face with a towel and then jammed the cap onto his head and pushed his chin onto his chest so it appeared he was sleeping. Satisfied it would fool any casual observer, she drove to the pub and parked in a corner of the car park.

In the pub she ordered a glass of white wine and sat by a window so she could see the car. If anyone got too near she’d have to find a way to stop them.

No one did. After five minutes had passed, she sent a text.

Hey. Are you late?

He wouldn’t be replying. Even if he had somehow been resurrected, his phone was in the canal by the industrial units. Ten minutes later she sent another.

Give me a call. Let me know if you’re still coming.

At 6.30 she sent another.

I get it. You want to show me who’s boss. Enjoy your life, Ned

She finished her wine and took the empty glass to the bar. The barman gestured at it.

‘Another?’

‘No thanks,’ she said, in her best Alice voice. ‘I’ve been stood up.’

Sunday, 29 August 2021

Tom

Tom sat by the lake, his back against a sun-warmed rock. On the far shore the slope of a mountain loomed over the surface of the water. It was really quite spectacular – not the type of scenery he associated with England. No rolling hills and sheep-dotted fields here; this was grand and imposing and utterly indifferent.

Jo was sitting opposite him, picking up a small, smooth pebble and then putting it down. Each time she did she gave a little giggle, contemplated the stone, and then promptly picked it up again. After a few seconds it was back on the ground, and she was giggling at her work.

He wondered what she was thinking, or if she was even thinking at all, at least in the way he understood it. There was no doubt she wasn’t thinking in words – she wasn’t wondering where the rocks had come from or marvelling at the grandeur of the jagged peaks that surrounded them – but there was something causing her to smile and laugh.

Maybe she just liked rocks. Well, there were plenty here. She could take her pick.