Page 45

44

He knew he should forget about the young woman now that he’d seen her with the child in the park, but for some reason his mind could not move on. She was on the list, and her looks and body filled him with a primitive need. Not skinny and scrawny like that yoke in the kitchen. But then that girl had been a lot different when she’d first arrived. It wasn’t his fault that she had deteriorated. It was hers – she who ruled the home with an iron fist.

He didn’t feel sorry for the scrawny one, but at times he felt sorry for the child. Not that he or the kid knew what was going on beneath the surface of her skin. She was an enigma; a Jekyll-and-Hyde character. A chameleon. She metamorphosed (a big word he’d found in the dictionary and he liked the sound of it) into one person to those outside, modifying herself into what she thought was expected in different environments. And he still wasn’t certain he knew the real woman beneath her strange veneer.

A knock on the shed door shunted him from his musings. He hid his beloved dictionary back behind a flowerpot. Another knock. Soft and timid. He opened the door to find the young girl there. What age was she? He barely remembered. Probably seven or eight. Maybe even nine.

‘Magenta, what do you want?’

‘You have to come in. Right away. Urgent.’

‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ He put out his hand to caress her soft curls, but she leaped backwards as if he’d scalded her with a hot iron.

‘You have to come now!’

He watched her run as if the wind was blowing her back inside the house, the bare soles of her feet visible as she moved. Her leggings were too short and her T-shirt too thin. But the kid was not his responsibility. He just did as he was told. Like get his arse inside before she came out.

With a weary slump of his shoulders he locked the door behind him and trod in the little girl’s footsteps, wondering what fate awaited him this time.

Curled up on her bed, Shannon shivered. She was acutely aware that it was fear turning her blood cold.

A sniff of cocaine would fix it. No, she couldn’t start that again. A dangerous habit that had spilled out of control when her parents died. But she’d kicked it in rehab, good and hard, and she never wanted to go back inside those intimidating doors again.

She thought of Davy in the park earlier that day. She knew the boy could not have got up on the monkey rings on his own. Who else had been there? She was baffled, because she’d seen no one.

She’d stay in tonight and go out tomorrow night. But she had no money, and her next pay cheque wasn’t due for a week.

Her phone buzzed with a message. Unknown number. Then she remembered the call she’d received in the park. Maybe she would have a night out after all without having to spend a cent. With someone who could help her forget the fear stalking her brain. Because she was certain someone was actually stalking her.

The argument was still ongoing. The one-sided argument. She was commanding the kitchen, waving her hands, slapping them against her thighs, her face animated, her hair wild.

‘And don’t fuck it up. I can’t be dealing with ineptitude.’

He scratched his head. She often spoke with big words. Trying to confuse him, he assumed. He wasn’t sure what ineptitude meant, but it couldn’t be anything good. He’d have to look it up in his dictionary.

‘I’ll do my best, like I always do.’ It was a rare occasion that he talked back to her, but he’d about had enough of her, even though he could never escape.

‘Obviously your best isn’t good enough, is it?’ Her voice was a snarl and he instinctively ducked. She had no weapon in her hand, though her fists were just as lethal. He’d learned the hard way. ‘Have you packed the essentials?’

‘You know I have.’ He bit his nails as his nerves frayed.

‘Are you being intentionally obtuse with me?’

‘What?’

‘Stupid.’

He was lost now, so he just shook his head.

‘You better not be, or I might just lose my temper, and you wouldn’t want that to happen.’

‘I’ll head off.’

‘Don’t arrive back empty-handed.’

‘I won’t.’

He made his way successfully out to the hall without getting a thump on the ear. He tied a scarf around his neck and began to zip up his jacket. Magenta was sitting on the bottom step, eyeing him. The likeness to her unnerved him, and he caught the zipper in his jumper, snagged a thread. She laughed and scampered up the stairs. He gave up on the zip and left. At least he’d get a few hours’ peace away from the house. Excitement built within him as he pulled out of the driveway.

Tonight he would not fail.