Should Have Killed The Kid (10 page)

'... especially now with this and all. Probably would've never had a crack at the pub if it wasn't for his help. Though really, I suppose there's a flipside to him having to give up all his dreams and all. Know what that is?' Bruno leaned in closer and closer still staring intently until Dave started to squirm beneath the gaze. Then the corners around his mouth twitched. 'No? Ha! The little bastard gets to spend all this extra time with his old man!' Bruno's voice rose abruptly in volume and he leant back against the bar. Dave looked up to see that Marcus had drifted back into the general vicinity again. 'Ain't that right?' he called, followed by a staccato burst of Italian and some throaty laughter.

Marcus shot his father one of the darkest looks that Dave had ever seen and, for a brief time, his heart was in his throat. He was certain he was witnessing the breakdown of a family relationship. Seeing the last time when a father pushed his son a little too hard and everything exploded.

Whatever it was that Marcus spat in reply, it came out hostile, crackling with anger... Or at least that's what Dave thought until a broad smile spread across Marcus's face and was matched by one from his father and they both burst out laughing.

Oh thank fuck,
Dave thought in relief and took another sip of the wine. Still chuckling away to himself, Marcus set about collecting the dishes. Bruno banged the bar top a few times and then matched Dave's sip with a long swallow.

'You want some more?' he asked Dave when he surfaced for air.

'Thanks but I think if I eat anymore I might explode.'

'Then looks like your work here is done, eh, Marcus? I better get these away before more scavengers arrive.'

'Probably for the best.' Dave agreed. The delicious aroma as Marcus had dished up had quickly perked the interest of the couple of early arrivals and Marcus had needed to knock up a couple of extra dishes before he could settle down to his own meal.

Bruno hefted the small stack of plates and then sculled down the rest of the wine in his glass. Before he headed out he paused to point at the bottle propped on the counter.

'Keep an eye on that for me would you.' He nodded toward Marcus. 'He's like a hawk.'

Dave pondered a smoke as Bruno disappeared through the drop-sheet but decided he'd enjoy the lingering taste in his mouth a little longer.

With his father out of the room, Marcus came back down the bar. He made a pretence of wiping the counter top before picking up the bottle and giving it a heft.

'Have you had much?' He swished the bottle in front of Dave.

'Just the one or two. Pacing myself. Don't want a repeat of last night.'

'Yeah fair enough. Just got to watch the old bugger, you know. He's meant to be laying off this stuff.' Marcus tapped his chest. 'Blood pressure and all that.'

'Oh.' Dave's brain slowly whirled searching for a more appropriate answer but fortunately Marcus broke the momentary awkwardness.

He put the bottle back in place.

'Ah, let the bastard have his fun, yeah? One more bottle ain't gonna hurt him.' Marcus hunkered down and leaned across the bar. 'So what lies was he telling about me?' He asked, catching Dave completely off balance.

'I–' Dave flushed.

'Nah, I'm just messing with you. He's a crafty old fox though. Take what he says with a grain of salt, mate. Talks a lot of shit.'

'Really?' Dave couldn't resist a little grin. 'Funny cause he was actually saying how nice it was to have you helping out.'

'Oh... Really?' Marcus glanced over toward the drop-sheet that Bruno had disappeared behind, the tone of his voice totally changing, growing softer as he nodded a couple of times. 'Well there you go.' Marcus seemed genuinely happy; something that left Dave feeling just as awkward as the earlier anger had. 'Yeah, for all the faults and the occasionally absurd way he goes about things, I think he might be onto something here. With this hotel, you know. Don't let him know I said that though. Got a big enough head as it is. Still, this place is gonna be alright, I think. Yeah, I think it'll be okay.' Marcus nodded, still smiling and then pushed the bottle across to Dave.

'Drink. It'll stop the old man doing it, yeah?' he said and then wandered back up the other end of the bar.

10.

Dave couldn't wipe the smile from his face. As the door swung wide and he stumbled into his room, the keys cluttering to the floor in his wake, Dave felt his grin spreading wider and wider.

Though he'd done his best to pace himself, he'd still put away his fair share of the four bottles that Bruno had cracked throughout the night. It'd left him feeling more than a little rosy cheeked.

Easy does it,
he thought as he stumbled and almost went sprawling across the floor. He stifled a giggle while he righted himself and headed toward where his duffel bag was propped in the corner. He'd already laughed so much that night that his jaw ached. Bruno had been in fine form down at the bar. Regaling the gathering crowd with tales of his previous life working his way up through the rungs of a courier company. The tales of inappropriate greetings and horrifying mix-ups with packages had grown louder and more risqué as they'd ploughed through their wine. By the end, Dave had been gasping for breath, unable to remember the last time he'd laughed so hard.

A good evening,
he mused. When he'd turned into the car park the day before, Dave had not imagined he'd be enjoying himself so much. Already he was looking forward to the next evening.
And I haven't even thought about Naomi once–

Dave instantly regretted the thought as it triggered a cavalcade of images in his head. As always they culminated in the one enduring picture: her face twisted in rage, like it had been as she spat:
you're a poisonous person.

In his head her voice made a reappearance:
Drunk again, David? How very surprising...

Dave shook his head to clear the thoughts but the damage was already done. He felt his good mood deflate as he dropped to his knees by his duffel bag. On the hunt for a fresh pack of smokes so he could have one last cigarette before bed. Dave fumbled with the zip, unwisely choosing to drag his mobile free from his pocket at the same time and only ended up taking twice as long to do either. Dave hesitated for a second before flipping up the top of his phone dreading the empty screen that would signal no new messages. Dreading how it would add a little more to the growing certainty that this time Naomi was never going to forgive him.

He was saved by a dead battery though and, after retrieving his smokes and placing them on the floor, he dug around a little more, searching out his charger.
Might as well get it on before I go back downstairs,
he thought.

What followed was a comedy of errors that left Dave regretting there was ever such an invention as a mobile phone. A good ten minutes passed before he even managed to extricate the cord from the knot his clothing had clumped into within the bag. A further, rage-inducing twenty followed as he stumbled around the room, searching for a power point. Then, once he'd located it in the worst possible position – tucked away beneath the bed, right in the corner – the ordeal of plugging it in began.

By the time he'd finished, Dave was pissed off, hot and sweaty and, combined with his brain dwelling on Naomi, had successfully managed to kill off the buzz that had left him grinning as he'd fumbled with the key in the lock only forty minutes before. The effort made him think that maybe another trip downstairs was asking a bit much when there was a window nice and close by.

He took the easier option, swiped the smokes from where he'd left them on the ground and walked over to the window. He expected the worst as he sought out the lock but thankfully it was a simple latch. Dave pushed the window open and let the cool night air rush in. A little on the chilly side, but not too bad.

Outside was clear night with the stars out in full force. Living in the city, it was not a sight he was generally used to. While he ripped the plastic from the new pack of smokes, Dave stared out, briefly attempting to pick out constellations before giving it up as hopeless. He’d never been able to spot them; no matter how many times Naomi used to point them out.

Just thinking about that made him feel sad. He quickly lit up instead, sucking sweet smoke deep into his lungs as he stared across the forest to the fields that the recent rain had left gleaming in the moonlight. He made a mental note to ask Bruno what the crop was.

Naomi would've loved the view.
The thought transformed his exhale into a sigh.
Would've being the operative term there. I think I’ve really fucked it up this time.
He added and briefly thought he might burst into tears.

When a flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye, he was more than happy for the distraction.

With a slightly shaky inhale, his gaze dropped down to where the glow from the windows on the floor below him spilled out, casting a semi-circle of light that played across the gravel path.

His inhale cut off into a sharp hiss. His breath hitching as he saw the shadowy figure moving past the cusp of the light, hunched over as it dragged something behind it. Something that he couldn’t quite make out.

Instantly he felt a little uneasy and blinked a few times just to make sure it wasn’t an hallucination or something. The thought even lingered,
maybe I have had too much to drink!
But that quickly dissipated when Dave leaned forward a little, fighting the gloom and felt his heart rate start to pick up.

It was definitely a person out on the path. A male judging by the build but that wasn’t what set Dave’s nerves on edge. It was the way the figure moved that did that. Hunched over, scuttling forward; almost insect-like as it struggled along with its burden: a sack that inched along behind it.

What the fuck?
Dave squinted, leaning further forward, trying to get a better look.

Yep, it’s definitely a–
his heart thumped and his thoughts ground to a halt as the sack moved. A short sharp jerking movement as though something writhed inside it.

An odd taste started to flood his mouth at the sight. One that made him want to spit to clear it but all he could do was stand frozen as he stared down at the figure. At first he’d been thinking that it was just one of the locals –
maybe one of the farmers
– lugging something from one place to another –
they work all hours, don’t they?
But the longer he watched, the more he became convinced that wasn’t the case.

There was something too furtive about the figure’s movements.

Something too creepy about the way the sack shook and shuddered as the figure trudged forward.

Dave didn’t even realise how creeped out he was until the figure abruptly stopped and his heart gave such a loud thump that he thought it might explode.

He couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that it was watching him. That he’d just witnessed something that he shouldn’t have and the figure was going to make certain that he never…

Why don’t you move out of the window, then?
The thought had absolutely no effect and Dave stood frozen, staring down as the figure dropped the sack and straightened. His heart thumped again.

Stop being stupid. I mean there’s a path there. It’s not like he’s skulking through my backyard. Besides he can’t see me. If I can’t see him properly then he can’t see me–

Dave stopped trying to convince himself when he realised that backlit by the room’s lights, not to mention holding a lit cigarette in his hand, he didn’t exactly make for an unobtrusive presence. The best he could hope was that the figure might not be able to make out his face. Even if that was the case they’d sure as hell know someone was there.

There was no doubt now that the person on the path had spotted him. He took a step forward and Dave felt like he was about to vomit.

Okay time to move!
his mind roared but Dave seemed powerless to obey it as the figure edged toward the semi circle of light.

Maybe I should call the cops?

What and tell them there’s a man on the path outside my room? That’ll go down a–

Oh shit!

Dave’s building panic skyrocketed as the eyes burned out of the night at him and he realised exactly who it was out on the path.

No no no no…

He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to believe that it was possible but when he reopened them, the same sight greeted him once more.

Monty. The old guy from the bar the night before, standing in the semi circle of light with his head cocked to one side. Staring.

The terrifying eyes bored straight through Dave, their intensity sending him weak at the knees.

Oh shit, oh fuck.
Dave wilted beneath the gaze. Once his paralysis finally broke, he spun away from the window, thumping flat against the wall next to it. His hammering heart felt as though it was slowly making its way up into his throat.