Page 318 of Troubled Blood

“We won’t be long,” Robin told Samhain’s frightened mother. “Just stay in here for now, all right? Please, Deborah?”

Deborah simply blinked at her. Robin was particularly afraid of the woman trying to reach the phone on the kitchen wall, because she didn’t want to have to physically restrain her. Returning to the sitting room, she found Barclay still bargaining with Samhain.

“Do it now,” Samhain was saying, grinning, looking from Barclay’s hands to his chin to his ear. “Go on, show me now.”

“Sam can only do magic after we’ve done our job,” said Robin. “Samhain, will you wait in the bedroom with your mum, please?”

“Go on, mate,” said Barclay. “Just fer a bit. Then I’ll teach ye the trick.”

The smile faded off Samhain’s face.

“Silly woman,” he said sulkily to Robin. “Stupid woman.”

He walked out of the room, but instead of going into his bedroom, he made for the kitchen.

“Shit,” Robin muttered, “don’t do anything yet, Sam—”

Samhain reappeared, holding the tin of chocolate biscuits, walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

“Now,” said Robin.

“Stay by the door,” said Sam, “keep an eye on them.”

Robin closed the sitting-room door, leaving a tiny crack through which she could spy on Samhain’s bedroom, and gave Barclay the thumbs up.

He pulled the mandala covering off the ottoman, bent down, gripped the edge of the lid and heaved. The lid wouldn’t budge. He put all his strength into it, but still it didn’t shift. From Samhain’s room came the sound of raised voices. Deborah was telling Samhain not to eat any more chocolate biscuits.

“It’s like—it’s locked—on the inside,” said Barclay, panting and letting go.

He unzipped his holdall and, after some rummaging, pulled out a crowbar, which he wedged the end of into the crack separating the lid from the body of the ottoman. “Come—oan—you—fucker,” he gasped, as the end of the crowbar lost its grip and nearly hit Barclay in the face. “Somethin’s stickin’ it doon.”

Robin peeked back at Samhain’s bedroom door. It remained closed. Mother and son were still arguing about the chocolate biscuits. The budgerigars chirruped. Beyond the window, Robin could see an airplane trail, a fuzzy white pipe cleaner stretched across the sky. Everyday things became so strange, when you were waiting for something dreadful to happen. Her heart was pounding fast.

“Help me,” said Barclay through gritted teeth. He’d managed to get the end of the crowbar deeper into the crack in the ottoman. “It’s gonnae take two.”

After another glance at Samhain’s closed door, Robin hurried over to Barclay and gripped the crowbar alongside him. Using all their weight and force, both pushed the handle toward the floor.

“Jesus,” panted Robin. “What’s holding it?”

“Where’s—Strike—when you need—”

There was a loud crunching, cracking noise. The crowbar suddenly gave way as the lid of the ottoman opened. Robin turned and saw a cloud of dust rising into the air. Barclay pushed the lid up.

The ottoman had been filled with concrete, which had stuck the lid down upon itself. The gray matter was lumpy and looked as though it might have been badly mixed. In two places, something smooth broke through the uneven, ashen surface: one resembling a few inches of walrus tusk, the other, a curved surface that hinted at a dark ivory globe. Then Robin saw, stuck to a bit of the concrete that had adhered to the lid of the ottoman, a few fair hairs.

They heard footsteps on the landing. Barclay slammed the lid of the ottoman down as Samhain opened the door. He was followed by Deborah.

“I’ll teach you that magic trick now,” said Barclay, walking toward Samhain. “Come in the kitchen, we’ll do it there.”

The two men left. Deborah shuffled into the room, and picked up the faded purple throw that Robin had cast aside.

“Did you open it?” she mumbled, eyes on the old carpet.

“Yes,” said Robin, far more calmly than she felt. She sat down on the ottoman, even though she felt sacrilegious doing it. I’m sorry, Margot. I’m so sorry.

“I need to make a phone call now, Deborah. Then I think we should all have some hot chocolate.”

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