The Savages (24 page)

‘It's over.'

‘What?' Jack glanced across at her, and pulled back into the lower gear. ‘It can't be.'

‘I'm sorry,' said Sasha. ‘I thought that's what you wanted.'

‘But you can't,' Jack replied, his voice tight with panic, and found himself torn between looking at Sasha and the road. ‘I need to see you. At the weekend.'

‘We're finished,' she said as if to spell it out. ‘You've introduced me to some things, and I'm grateful for that. I've just come to realise that I'm not comfortable sharing my life with someone quite as intimately as you'd hoped. I had to give it a shot to realise this, and I just hope we can be friends. That's all I want in my life right now, Jack. Family and friends.'

For the last few minutes of the drive, Jack pleaded with Sasha for a second chance. At the same time, all he could think about was the very real possibility that his opportunity to bed Amanda could vanish.

‘Is there someone else?' he asked at one point. ‘Is it that guy from the talk? The one who looked like he needed a bath and a shave? I saw you chatting to him in the queue. Don't think I'm completely stupid.'

Sasha looked at the floorwell.

‘It's not what you think,' she said. ‘Ralph and I just have a lot in common at the moment.'

Jack's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Sasha was beginning to annoy him now. No girl had ever broken up a relationship with him. It just didn't work like that in his world.

‘Does he drive?' he grumbled.

Sasha sighed to herself.

‘He doesn't drive,' she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘Nor is he a vegan. He's trying hard not to eat meat but struggling with the whole hardline thing. To be honest, I know just how he feels.'

As they approached the Savage house, Jack felt utterly defeated. He pulled up outside. The engine cut out automatically. The silence inside the car was clearly as painful for Sasha as it was for him.

‘So, that's it?' he said.

Sasha dropped her gaze, but offered him a smile all the same.

‘It's for the best,' she said, before reaching for her school bag. ‘I'll see you around.'

Jack drew breath to ask if the weekend would be good, but already Sasha was climbing out of the car. As she did so, he noticed that she'd left something behind on the seat. An earring, he realised, on picking it up.

‘Wait!' he said, just as Sasha closed the door. Returning his attention to the earring, Jack held it up for a closer inspection. He didn't know much about jewellery, but this was one of those dangling varieties with a silver clasp. It held a little bauble that could've been carved from bone. His first thought was to hurry after Sasha and hand it back. Then an idea crept into his mind. One that caused him to curl his fist victoriously around the earring. Jack looked at Sasha one last time, who didn't turn as she opened up the door to the house. He smiled to himself, before slipping what would be his golden pass inside his shirt pocket. ‘You can have this back on Saturday,' he said. ‘I'll drop it round. Really. It'll be my pleasure.'

Dangling by his ankles in the pit beneath the shed, there was a moment when Vernon English's sense of terror exceeded anything he had ever known. It came when Titus prepared to leave him alone in Ivan's company.

‘You can't!' Vernon pleaded. ‘Don't abandon me down here. Not with … him!'

‘He's my son,' said Titus, seemingly irritated by the man's lack of respect. ‘He might well make mistakes the first time, but you know how it is.'

‘
How?
' Vernon roared, and then broke into a sob. ‘I don't eat people. I don't even have kids!'

‘You don't?' If Titus was preparing to leave, this stopped him in his tracks. He considered the man trussed up before him. After a moment, his irritation appeared to have been eclipsed by pity. ‘They drive you crazy sometimes, but every now and then they make you so proud your heart could burst.'

‘I don't want to die,' croaked Vernon. ‘I'd still like to start a family one day.'

Titus watched Vernon sobbing for a moment. Then he looked to the floor, ran the palm of his hand over his shaved dome and sighed.

‘You know too much for me to let you go now,' he said, and gestured at their surroundings. ‘I'm sorry you missed out, Mr English. Building a family is one thing. Keeping it together is where sacrifices have to be made.'

Without further word, Titus turned and took to the rungs.

‘Please!' cried Vernon. ‘I'd make a good dad. I'm sure I would!'

Once he'd climbed out of the space, Titus responded by lowering the hatch into place. Vernon looked back at Ivan, and found his gaze tight upon him.

‘It won't hurt,' said the boy. ‘Not this bit.' Ivan turned to the cabinet behind him. He unlocked the door with a key his father had handed him and swung it open. First he fished out a butcher's apron. It was striped blue and white, but mostly stained with deep red splatters, and way too big for him. With his eyes locked on the cabinet still, Vernon screamed again, much to the boy's annoyance. ‘Could you, like, shut up? They're just tools.'

He stepped aside, offering Vernon a clear view. Knives, hooks and saws with jagged teeth hung from the upper rail in the cabinet. Some larger equipment was stored underneath. Much of it looked industrial.

‘This is a joke,' breathed Vernon, his teeth chattering with fear. ‘A sick joke.'

Ivan returned to the cabinet. First he hauled out a pressure washer. Then he found a barber's clipper which he placed on the plastic chair. Finally, after some rummaging, the boy returned with what looked like a short-handled hammer in one hand. As he twisted it in his grip, Vernon noticed that one side sported some nasty triangular studs.

‘Relax,' said Ivan. ‘It's just a tenderiser.'

‘
What?
'

‘You know?' he said, and patted the instrument in the palm of his hand. ‘It softens the fibres. Makes the meat easier to chew.'

Vernon English struggled to take in what the boy was saying here. Gripped by panic, still hanging upside down from the beam, he began to tremble, twitch and gasp for breath.

‘Your dad said nothing about a tenderiser!' he said in desperation. ‘A wash and a shave is all he asked you to do.'

‘It's my first time,' said Ivan with a shrug. ‘I want to do things properly.'

‘But you told me it wouldn't hurt!' he wailed.

‘It won't.' Ivan placed the tenderiser on the chair and turned for the cabinet once more. When he came back around, Vernon saw to his horror that he had just collected a bolt pistol. ‘You'll be dead by then,' he said, and pulled the bolt back on the spring. It locked into position with a click. Ivan caught his eye and smiled. ‘On the bright side, if I accidentally nick you with the clipper in a minute from now you won't feel a thing!'

‘
Don't do this
,' whispered Vernon, as Ivan placed the bolt head to his temple and found the trigger with his finger. He drew breath to plead with the boy once more, only for a thunderous bang to mark the moment that his world went black.

For Titus Savage, a feast was always preceded by a day of preparation. Like his father, he considered it to be a kind of ritual that involved the whole family. There were tasks for everyone. Throughout the next morning, Sasha helped her mother assemble the side dishes, while Titus visited the market for those last-minute items. In the afternoon, having set out the place mats at the table, he found the mahogany box that contained the special cutlery and took it upstairs to his father's room. Oleg liked to play a part, and polishing the silverware was something he had done for decades.

‘I hope you're hungry,' said Titus, as his father pushed his spectacles into place. He waited for the old man to find a cloth in his drawer before outlining what was on the menu. ‘We could've opted for something leaner, and less tearful about his lost opportunities in life,' he pointed out, ‘but what else could I do?'

‘I hear that Ivan is in charge.' Oleg shuffled across to the table under the skylight, where Titus had just placed the box. ‘I remember your first time as a little boy. It was a proud moment.'

The pair exchanged a smile.

‘Ivan tells me everything went to plan,' said Titus. ‘He stayed up until the early hours to get the job done. He hasn't even surfaced yet.'

Oleg picked a dessert spoon from the box.

‘I wonder if this is something Ivan will pass on to his children?'

‘Of course,' said Titus without hesitation. ‘He's a Savage. Tradition is in our blood.'

Oleg focused on polishing the spoon for a moment.

‘Will Sasha be joining us?' he asked.

‘She's in the kitchen with Angelica right now.' Titus narrowed his eyes, unsure why he would even check his granddaughter would be present. ‘Is something troubling you?'

‘Me? No!' Oleg rubbed the spoon handle vigorously. Then he stopped and sighed. ‘We're all Savages, Titus. We always will be in name at least, no matter how many of us gather round the table in future.'

Titus looked baffled. He was standing over his father, who next selected a fork to polish.

‘Well, every one of us shall be eating this evening as we welcome little Kat to the fold,' he said, and clapped Oleg on the shoulder as if that might reassure him. ‘You don't need to worry about your grandchildren. It's my duty to make sure they understand the importance of dining like this on a regular basis.' Titus turned to leave the room. At the door, he stopped and addressed his father one more time. ‘You know, it's true what they say that the family who eat together, stick together.'

‘Maybe not the family who eat
people
together,' muttered Oleg.

‘I'm sorry?'

The old man looked up and around. He seemed startled to find Titus was still there.

‘Oh, nothing,' he said quickly and held the fork up to the light.

Angelica hadn't stopped all day. The menu, which she'd written out by hand, was stuck to the fridge using painted magnets from a local art fair. With Sasha's help, the potatoes were peeled, the vegetables chopped and herbs picked from the garden. The only thing missing, in fact, was the meat. Still, Angelica had everything under control, with help from her eldest daughter. Sasha was at the stove, stirring a pepper and port wine sauce, while little Kat was on the floor by the French windows, her hands pressed to the glass, babbling at the birds on the feeder.

‘It's going to be a late night for her,' Sasha said.

‘You know how it is,' said Angelica. ‘We don't sleep until everyone is full.'

By now, the sauce was beginning to simmer. Sasha turned the heat down by a notch.

‘Ivan says there's a lot to share out this time.'

Angelica had just finished refilling the salt cellar. She stopped and faced her daughter.

‘There'll be even more to go round if you don't join in,' she said.

Sasha focused on the sauce, which was still bubbling even on the lower temperature.

‘Will Grandpa be eating down here or in his room?' she asked, in a bid to change the subject.

Angelica wasn't surprised, but persisted anyway.

‘This feast might be all about Katya,' she said, ‘but I want it to be a celebration for you both. A welcoming to one daughter and a farewell to the other.'

Sasha stirred the sauce a little quicker.

‘Mum, I really appreciate how supportive you've been to me these last few weeks. I'll be at the table with you all. Nothing changes there.'

‘Everything changes,' said Angelica to correct her. ‘A vegetarian will be eating among us.'

‘I'm not sure about the whole label thing,' Sasha replied, as the sauce finally began to thicken. ‘It can feel a bit suffocating.'

‘Which is why we never call ourselves cannibals,' said Angelica, prompting her daughter to catch her breath.

‘Mum!'

Sasha looked scandalised. Like Angelica, she then scrambled to look as busy as possible when Titus appeared in the kitchen.

‘Did I just hear the “C” word?' he asked, and inspected several dishes. Sasha stirred the sauce madly. Angelica tightened the top of the salt cellar, well aware that Titus was gazing directly at her. Just then, Ivan appeared at the doorway in his dressing gown. He yawned, stretched, and then dropped his arms on realising he had just walked in on something. Normally, his mother would scold him for lying in throughout so much of the day. Instead, Angelica shot him a look that told him he needed to be elsewhere.

‘I just wanted something to eat,' the boy grumbled, and headed for the back door. ‘I'm starving.'

As soon as he was outside, Titus addressed Angelica and Sasha once more.

‘We're not cannibals,' he said as if to remind them. ‘Cannibals boil people alive in cauldrons. I prefer to think of ourselves as evolved eaters. As a family, we're at the forefront of fine dining. Human flesh is an acquired taste, and I've worked hard to give you all the chance to appreciate it for yourselves. It's what keeps us tight, am I right?'

Angelica glanced at Sasha, who looked back at the sauce, sighed to herself and then nodded.

‘Let's all take a seat,' said Angelica, and gestured at the kitchen table. ‘Sasha has something to share.'

Vernon Savage saw a bright light. Having been dangling from the beam for so long, and in total darkness, the opening of the hatch caused him to blink and wince.

It was the sight of the crazy kid, Ivan, easing his way down the rungs that persuaded him to stay still and silent. Vernon knew he was supposed to be dead. If he started shouting and screaming, Ivan might have another go with the bolt gun. Fortunately for the private investigator, the boy's lack of practice meant the weapon had recoiled when he pulled the trigger. Instead of punching through his temple and into his brain, the bolt had simply knocked him out. Vernon considered this to be a small mercy given the indignity and horror of what had evidently followed. When he resumed consciousness, he found he had been stripped of his clothing, washed and shaved from head to toe with the barber's clippers. Finally, he realised he'd been swaddled in what felt like a nappy made from kitchen foil. It crinkled every time he moved, which he tried to keep to a minimum on account of the pain he was in. Even without being able to see anything, Vernon knew that Ivan had hit him with the tenderiser at least a few times, but not enough to have much effect on his flesh. It left him wondering whether the boy was incapable of carrying out the job properly. If so, thought Vernon in his traumatised mind, Ivan's inexperience might just save his life.