by Anne Lown
George clenched his jaw; it was obvious he was getting impatient. Jenny knew he hadn’t wanted to waste his evening on some made-up goose chase that Carmie was likely to cause him. Other than the murders some months earlier after the appearance of the diary, all her other ramblings were nothing but superstitious nonsense.
“What did you see?” Jenny tried to be gentle; any other tactic would prolong the situation.
“Alien blood,” Carmie said, “the alien was bleeding.”
“Where, Carmie, where did you see it?”
“Here in the shop. It came in and hid behind the clothes. Then it made funny noises. I called out, but it scared me and ran off.”
Jenny looked up at George.
He was clearly getting annoyed, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you sure it was an alien? It is Halloween. It could’ve been a costume.”
“No, it was an alien. Just like the one’s on the X-Files.”
With that said, George took on a stern demeanour. “Now listen here. There is no such thing as aliens, and if you ring again we will charge you with wasting police time.”
Jenny couldn’t believe he was being so short with her; the woman had had a fright.
“Did he take anything or threaten you?”
“No, he scared me. He was a bad omen; someone is going to get hurt.”
George pivoted on the spot and then walked away in time for a knock at the door. “I’ll let him in,” he said and left the shop without even a goodbye.
Carmie’s husband, Ron, appeared in the office doorway. He, at least, seemed concerned for his wife.
“I saw it, Ron,” she said, “it was an alien.”
“Sure you did,” he said, wrapping an arm around her. His next words were directed at Jenny. “I’ll take it from here.”
She took the hint, placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder to give it a squeeze and then picking up her shopping. Jenny exhaled quietly, glad to no longer be involved, and left the shop. Tonight was going to be difficult enough without adding mysteriously disappearing aliens to the list.
*******
Getting home was a relief. She loved Carmie dearly, but her ramblings were out of control. Since she’d been right about the voodoo dolls pointing to the victims’ deaths, she’d taken her witchcraft to a whole new level. It was unsettling to hear her predict murders at every turn no matter what the situation was.
Jenny cracked open a bottle and splashed it into a glass, some of it going over the rim. The cool wine she’d plucked from the chiller ran down her throat and warmed her stomach. She cupped the glass to her chest and closed her eyes for a few seconds. It was now a daily habit, not that she needed much, just a top up or she’d be craving it for breakfast. She batted away concern from her mind.
Everybody does it, right?
She shook her head before gulping down the last of the drink. Jenny poured herself another large glassful. Over half the bottle was gone, but then it didn’t carry that much in it anyway. That’s what she told herself. She needed to relax before her ex-fiancé, Scott Harris, arrived. She should never have agreed to spend the evening with him.
Damn him, he doesn’t need me to have fun.
“Oh, please, Jen,” he’d said in that whiny voice of his.
She hated it when he tried to manipulate her. It’d been the problem her whole life; men had dictated the terms, and she’d always asked how high they wanted her to jump. Jenny took another sip. Not anymore. She was in charge and she’d stay home if she wanted to.
The doorbell rang. Jenny snorted. He must’ve deemed it all right to use instead of kicking her door in on this occasion. If he was making a good impression it was because he wanted her to go. She put down her empty glass, strolled into the hallway, and opened the door. Part of her was grateful he was being reasonable, but another part was furious at being played.
“Aw, why aren’t you ready?” Scott asked.
“I was busy, okay?”
Scott visibly flinched at the way she spoke to him. “Yeah, sure. Just thought you’d be ready to go, that’s all.”
Jenny could see the sulk coming on in his features, even though they were partly covered by outlandish makeup, but she really didn’t give a cat’s bollocks for his feelings at that moment. Scott shut the door behind him and followed her into the kitchen.
He’s being really sheepish tonight.
She’d been so used to him with all his shenanigans, causing and getting into trouble, that it was easy for her to spot something going on.
“So, what’s it this time?”
“Aw, don’t start,” he said. “We’re gonna have a great night, no need to get all moody on me.”
Jenny stared at him. She knew something was about to go down, it always did with Scott putting on a show of being offended. She picked up the empty glass and poured out the last of the first bottle. Leaving him in the kitchen, she went upstairs to take a shower and get ready.
When she returned half an hour later, he was skulking around the refrigerator, and from the look of it he’d drunk her other bottle of wine. Jenny inhaled a deep breath and opened her mouth to start ranting, but the doorbell rang a second time.
Scott flinched and pretended to be surprised. He didn’t even try to beat her to the door. She opened it to be greeted with the sight of her ex-boyfriend, Jason Kettle, dressed like a mermaid and sporting a coy grin.
“Hi, Jen,” he said before being left standing on the doorstep because she shut the door in his face.
She turned to Scott, her hands on her hips and eyes protruding. “What the heck?”
He shrugged as if he didn’t have an explanation for why Jason was outside.
She turned back to the door and opened it again, this time giving him the chance to say something.
“I was told to meet Scott here so we could all go together.”
“Okay,” she said.
The two men glanced at each other. Something passed between them she wasn’t privy to, not that she wanted to be.
“Hang on a minute, Jay,” Scott said. “I just want a word with Jen.”
He tugged on her elbow and led her into the living room.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“With me?” she asked. “What the hell’s wrong with me?” A growing anger was raising her voice.
“Shhh,” he said, “why’re you acting so weird?”
“Well, for a start, I don’t want to be in the same room as Martin. He tried to strangle me, remember, while you were out pissing it up with your little buddy over there.”
“And why not? You’ve been in the same room with Jason, and that didn’t seem to bother you. I thought he tried to strangle you, too?”
“You really are a bastard,” Jenny said. “I don’t know why you even bother with me anymore?”
The question must’ve hit home because Scott suddenly changed his demeanour. “Look, I know we left you to fend for yourself, but it really was a mistake. Can you ever forgive me?”
Jenny wheeled away. She couldn’t bear him trying to stare earnestly into her eyes. She knew she was being unreasonable, but being abandoned at the time she’d needed them was hard to let go of. If she was truthful, it was why she drank. The whole situation had hit her harder than she wanted to admit. She closed her eyes momentarily, bit her lower lip, and exhaled.
“Let’s just do this,” she said.
Jenny grabbed her coat to ward off the bitterness of the open night sky, and they left the house together. The two men walked ahead of her, deep in conversation as usual. It was a strange sight to see, especially considering they’d been at each other’s throats not so long ago. It seemed like they were better off without her, and that was what had hurt her the most. They grew closer while she drifted away. Tonight would probably be the last time she agreed to go out with the two of them. It was time to move on, to live her life for herself.
Chapter Four
The party at the pub was in full swing, and the sounds of
revelry filtered down the road even with the doors closed. There wouldn’t be any complaints tonight from nearby neighbours as most were probably the first to arrive. Jason rushed to be a gentleman and shepherd Jenny inside. He’d been overly attentive since that night he’d wrapped the scarf around her neck, like he couldn’t quite forgive himself for his behaviour, even if she’d found it within herself to do so. She hadn’t, but it was Scott’s dismissiveness of the whole incident that tore at her emotions.
The music blared at an unreasonable level when the door broke away from the frame. It beat so deep it pounded into her chest and took over her heart rhythm. It was going to be impossible to talk, but that was probably what Dave, the landlord, wanted—more chance of people drinking themselves stupid if they couldn’t do much else.
The room heaved with the locals and people from around about. Dave’s reputation for throwing a great party and lock-in afterwards made it worth venturing out for. It was difficult to tell who a lot of people were from the varied costumes on display. To her right, Graham sat in his wheelchair, a blackcurrant in hand, delivered by barmaids because Dave valued his custom. Graham smiled at her, enjoying being out in the crowd and watching other people having fun.
Jenny smiled back. She was dressed in a school girl outfit. It hadn’t taken much to make the costume, she already had the blouse and skirt to hand, and only a few minor adjustments made them seem teenage. She was getting plenty of admiring glances, so it looked like she’d got the image spot on.
“I’ll get us a drink,” Scott shouted, trying to be heard over the noise.
She hung back on the fringe, wanting to see who’d turned up from work. It was a bit out of their way, coming from Bishop, but Scott could be persuasive about the fun they’d have out in the sticks. No waiting in line in the freezing cold hoping to get into the bars and nightclubs, wasting time that could’ve been used drinking.
Jason’s mermaid costume caused quite a stir. He’d stuck two seashells onto his chest to cover his fake boobs. They weren’t even large enough for the purpose, so he found himself the object of many a grope and a pinched bottom, too. Nowadays he seemed more himself. Hanging out with Scott had brought him out of the gloom, and the fun seemed to help keep the depression at bay.
Jenny couldn’t begrudge him that. Coming back to the village to be the subject of Tracy’s and Emma’s bad behaviour was enough to send anyone batty. She just needed to sort herself out now.
“You’re here,” a voice shouted in her ear.
Jenny spun round to see her colleague, Rizaldo, grinning. He’d persuaded Dave to let him bring his karaoke machine, something he couldn’t bear to live without. To him, a party wasn’t a party if he couldn’t get up front and sing. The fact that he was Filipino the same as Carmie was mind-boggling to Jenny. They were so different with Rizaldo, or Riz which he preferred, into the latest everything and Carmie stuck in the traditional past.
“Like the outfit,” he said, giving her a pinch on the bottom in time with a cheeky wink.
“Oi, you, paws off my man.” Susan caught him red-handed. He wasn’t really her man; they’d worked together for years and seemed joined at the hip. Her laugh rang out to rival the music. At the mail centre it echoed across the warehouse floor, so you always knew if she was in your area.
“You can keep him,” Jenny retaliated. “I’ve got no idea where he’s been.” With that, she gave a cheeky wink back and went in search of the drink Scott was supposed to be getting for her.
She nudged her way through the crowd until she got to the bar and leant over to scan the customers waiting to be served but couldn’t see him. It was possible he’d got the drinks already and was pushing his way back to meet her. Or maybe he’d forgotten, which was more likely to be the truth.
She left the bar and slipped past a few of the pressed-together bodies. Jenny was starting to make slow progress when a hand clutched onto her forearm. She looked down. Large fingers held her in their grasp. In the dimly lit room she couldn’t recognise the hand, but she did the voice that sounded in her ear.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Jenny forced herself to turn her head in his direction and inhale his beer-fumed breath. Martin loomed over her, his grip on her arm getting tighter. Pain crept up to her elbow and down to her hand. She could feel the blood struggling to circulate and knew her skin would soon be turning a deep shade of purple.
“Please let go.”
She clawed at his fingers but couldn’t seem to prise them free. A cold sweat was accumulating on her face, and her head was swimming with the pounding in her ears. She knew she was going to faint, but there was nothing she could do about it. The last place she wanted to fall was under the feet of all these people. Being trampled to death was not how she’d envisioned dying, certainly not at the age she was anyway.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
She couldn’t believe he didn’t know what he was doing to her. Being in a crowded room should’ve made her feel safe, protecting her from anyone’s dubious advances, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Jenny stretched out her free hand and tried to force her thumb into his eye, but he just leant back and didn’t react. She couldn’t even tell if he was enjoying himself because no emotion showed on his face
Tears sprung onto her cheeks. The pain was more than she could bear, radiating into her shoulder now and across her back. She twisted her head away as his face came back towards her.
“Don’t forget, I want those diaries.”
He’d said it so only she could hear. Coupled with nausea rising in her throat, Jenny was on the brink of collapsing until Jason appeared at her side.
“There you are. Scott’s outside, I think there’s gonna be a fight.” Jason grinned. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and appeared eager to get back out there. He grabbed hold of her free arm in time for Martin to release the one he’d held.
Jenny stumbled behind Jason as he dragged her through the crowd. Her ankles twisted in response to his gathering pace. If he hadn’t been the one to propel her, she was sure she would’ve fallen over right there and then.
He pushed the No Exit bar on the emergency door and dragged her out into the night air. They were at the back of the pub, and it was only then he saw the state of her in the outside lights. “What happened to you?”
Jenny crumpled onto the cold, hard flagstones. The radiating chill soothed her clammy skin and helped the nausea subside. She held her head in her hand, only using the good arm he’d been holding. The sleeve of her blouse on the other was badly creased, and tacky beer stains discoloured the fabric. Her muscles ached, and her skin was no doubt bruised underneath the clothing. She wasn’t in the mood to tell Jason what’d happened in case he went back inside to deal with Martin.
She blew out a breath, her senses returning enough that the ground was becoming too cold to sit on. She stood with the help of the outside wall and followed Jason in the direction of someone shouting. A familiar scene confronted her when she rounded the side of the building.
Scott stood opposite a man she’d never seen before. He was a similar height but appeared much more menacing. Not that it was hard considering Scott was dressed in a fluffy bunny onesie, complete with hood and rabbit ears. He’d painted his face with makeup to resemble a famous rabbit from the cartoons in the seventies and gripped a large stuffed carrot in his left hand. He looked ridiculous, especially with his brown beard and what Americans would call a fanny pack to keep his money in.
Jason stood close by, ready to be his wingman in the fight if it ever got that far. Scott flicked his gaze to his friend, no doubt checking to make sure they’d be working together to bring down his foe. So, this was why their friendship had developed. It didn’t surprise her one bit; it wasn’t a great night out for Scott unless someone was getting a kicking.
Jenny froze by the corner of the pub, not wanting to get involved, but not wanting to go back inside either. She’d left her coat on a chair alongside Grah
am who’d kindly offered to watch it for her. The thought of manoeuvring through the crowd to be met by Martin again sent shivers down her spine regardless of the cold night air. She hated to admit she was still afraid of him, much to Scott’s annoyance because he got along with Martin fine. But after their run-in by the bar, she knew her instincts were correct, and he still posed a danger.
“But I’ve paid you what I owe.” Scott was trying not to shout, but his voice was rising the longer the stand-off continued.
“No, you haven’t. I want my money now or you’ll be sorry,” the man replied.
So that’s what it was about. Jenny closed her eyes for a few seconds and wished she was still at home. Scott had fallen foul of his weed dealer. Now why wasn’t that a surprise?
The two men circled each other, neither one quite ready to start on the other. Jason, eagerness getting the better of him, got too close, and the dealer flinched in response.
“Hey, man,” Scott said, “I paid you last week, the amount you wanted.”
Jenny watched as the dealer seemed to be considering his words. She thought she saw something in his expression. A fleeting realisation maybe that he’d made a mistake, but he quickly pulled himself together, probably not wanting to lose face. She knew he couldn’t let his customers walk all over him, and right now admitting that mistake would shift the power dynamic from him to Scott. That was something the man couldn’t let happen, but how he was going to get out of it, she dreaded to think.
She observed the dealer. He was eyeing up his opponents, maybe weighing up the odds of what would happen if he took them both on. He didn’t appear afraid. Jenny flinched at the man lunging at Scott and catching him with a left hook.
Scott had made a show of appearing unprepared, and once hit, flailed backwards onto the nearest car bonnet.
Jason, skipping in to take his turn, got an elbow to the chest and a sweeping kick across his shins. He went down heavily onto the same cold, hard ground Jenny had been sitting on only minutes earlier.
