The Society Of Dirty Hearts (23 page)

Avoiding her dad’s gaze, Eleanor moved off to fetch her shoes. Eyes hard with worry, Mike leant in close to Julian. “If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you responsible.” His voice was low and heavy with intent, almost threatening.

Even through all the alcohol in his system, Julian felt a little surge of adrenaline. Blinking, he dropped his gaze from Mike’s. Eleanor pushed past her dad and, taking hold of Julian’s hand, drew him away from the door. “This isn’t over,” Mike called after them. “We’re going to talk about this.”

Eleanor ignored him. “Sorry about that,” she said to Julian. “He didn’t mean what he said, he was just angry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mike’s comments hadn’t offended Julian. In fact, he agreed with them. He showed her his car. “Want to go for a drive?”

Eleanor shook her head. “Let’s just walk.”

Hand in hand, they wandered along until they came to the lane that led to the hay-barn. Eleanor looked at Julian meaningfully. “Do you want to go that way?”

“Do you?”

Eleanor nodded. Julian’s heart beat in time to their quickening footsteps as they made their way to the stile at the end of the lane. Beyond was a meadow, hazy in the evening light. They ran through the long grass to the barn, which was stacked half-full of bales of hay. Julian hesitated in the grass-smelling gloom. “Are you sure about this?”

“Completely.”

They pulled out some hay and lay on it, face to face, each waiting for the other to make the first move. “I haven’t been with anyone else since we broke up,” said Eleanor.

“There was this girl at uni,” Julian admitted, guilt tingling through him. He added quickly, “It was nothing serious.”

Eleanor smiled, reaching to push her hand through his hair. “There’s no need to explain, Jules.”

Her words strengthened rather than eased his guilt. “Your dad was right, you know, about university and about me.”

“Shh.”

Julian made a low noise of pleasure as Eleanor dragged her nails gently across his scalp. Blood pounding in his head and groin, he rested his hand on her thigh, moved it over the curve of her waist and drew her close. She wrinkled her nose. “Have you been drinking?”

Not replying, Julian dipped his chin to kiss her neck. “Mmm,” she purred, arching her head. He worked his way up to her mouth. As their lips met, he closed his eyes. The instant he did so a face flashed into his mind – a cute, girl-next-door face with baby-blue eyes framed by sandy blonde-hair. With a start, he snapped open his eyes, passing his hand over them as if to swipe the image away.

“What’s wrong?” asked Eleanor, a slight frown marring the smoothness of her forehead.

“Nothing.”

“Listen, we don’t have to do this if-”

“No, I want to,” Julian interjected with sudden resolve. The dreams already ruled his nights, he wasn’t about to let them rule his days too. Cupping his fingers around Eleanor’s chin, he kissed her again. He couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, though. She threw her leg over him, rolling so she straddled him. As she bent forward, her hair blinded him. Again, the image burst upon his consciousness, vivid as a living being. Like a physical force, it reached out to him from the dark, accompanied by a surge of lust so intense, so raw, it shook him to his core. Gasping, he brushed Eleanor’s hair away. Light rushed in, but the image remained, as if it’d been branded on his retinas. Before he even realised what he was doing, he’d flipped Eleanor onto her back, pinning her arms.

“Hey, take it easy,” she said.

He didn’t see Eleanor anymore. He only saw the face in his mind, the blue eyes swollen and wet with fear. There was no light in his eyes as he bent to run his tongue roughly over Eleanor’s cheek. “Stop, I don’t like that,” she said. He didn’t stop. He felt drugged, powerless to resist the white-hot scour of his desire. She tried to squirm out from under him, but his hands were on her like iron, pulling at her clothes, grinding into her crotch.

“No, Julian. I said no!” Eleanor brought her knee up hard between Julian’s legs. The pain that exploded in his groin blotted out everything else. With an agonised groan, he rolled off her and lay crumpled in a heap. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?” she demanded to know, glaring at him.

“I’m losing it,” said Julian, speaking more to himself than Eleanor. He started shaking his head and banging his forehead with his fist. “I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“Stop that.”

Julian didn’t hear. He hit himself harder and faster. When Eleanor reached to catch his hand, he recoiled from her as if his touch might infect her with some dreadful disease. “Stay away from me.”

“Why are you being like this, Julian?” There were tears in Eleanor’s voice now, as her anger gave way to confused desperation. “Are you trying to drive me away? Is that it?”

“Christ, I wish that’s all there was to it.”

“Well what else is there to it. Speak to me, Julian, for fuck’s sake.”

“There’s…” Julian struggled to find the words. “There’s something in me, some kind of sickness.” He hammered his hand into his head again. “I can feel it in there trying to get out.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I keep having these…these…” Julian couldn’t bring himself to say the word dreams. He didn’t even want to think it in case doing so caused the images to spill out of his subconscious again. Desperately trying to make his mind a blank space, a white sheet of emptiness, he struggled to his feet. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I’m so-” He broke off, voice choked by tears of shame. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he hurried out of the barn.

“Wait, Julian,” Eleanor called after him. But he didn’t wait, he quickened to a run. He knew now what he must’ve known unconsciously all along, it wasn’t just Mr X he needed to protect Eleanor from, it was himself. Feeling sick to his stomach, he got into the car, threw it into gear and screeched away. He drove fast to the centre of town, to The Cut. He ordered a whisky, chucked it down his throat, ordered another, did the same with that, and another, and another. When he blearily glimpsed himself in the mirror behind the bar, a look of revulsion and loathing etched itself into his face. It was all he could do to resist the urge to fling his glass at his reflection. He felt, or imagined he felt, a pressure growing behind his eyes. As if the darkness that lurked there was trying to burst forth. Again, he wondered where the darkness came from. For a long time he’d managed to convince himself that its source was external, that the séance had released something, not a ghost, but some kind of malevolent energy that was bent on taking over his psyche. But now he couldn’t help wondering whether in reality the darkness had always been there and the séance had simply acted as a catalyst, setting in motion the subconscious forces of his own nature.  

A hand touched Julian’s shoulder. He jerked around to find himself facing Kyle. “I thought it was you,” Kyle said. He was grinning his usual idiot grin, but it disappeared and he took an instinctive step backward at the sight of his friend’s face. “You okay, bro?”

“No,” slurred Julian, swaying, his eyes barely open. “I’m not fucking okay. I’m all wrong.” he stabbed a finger at his temple as if to indicate where the wrongness lay within him. “I’m no good. No good to anybody. I should do the world a favour and end this shit.”

Kyle wet his lips nervously. “Come on, dude, things can’t be that bad.”

Julian laughed – it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “What the fuck would you know about it? What do you know about anything, except getting stoned?”

“No need for that, Jules, I’m just trying to help.”

“If you wanna help, shut the fuck up and buy me another drink.”

“I think you’ve had enough already. Look, why don’t I give you a lift home?”

“If you’re not gonna buy me a drink, fuck off,” Julian said, loudly enough that he drew uneasy glances from nearby drinkers.

Kyle’s tongue flicked over his lips again, which trembled now with anger. “You’re right, Jules, you are all wrong. That poisonous bitch has fucked you in the head, just like I warned you she would.” 

“Shut up, Kyle.” Julian’s voice was quieter, less slurry, more menacing.

“No, I won’t fucking shut up. You want to know something, I hope the little whore has jumped off the bridge. Good fucking riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what I say. This town’s better off without her. And I’m not the only one thinks so. Ask anyone in here, they’ll tell you the same. ”

Kyle’s last word came out in a gasp as Julian shoved him in the chest, sending him reeling. “Say another word about Mia and I’ll spread your fucking nose over your face.”

“I’d like to see you try,” retorted Kyle, fists balled.

Julian took an unsteady step towards him, catching hold of a table for balance. He shook his head as if trying to clear it and flapped a hand at Kyle. “Ah, fuck you.” He raised his voice so the whole bar could hear. “Fuck all you pricks. She’s worth more than the lot of you put together. She’s worth more than this whole shitheap of a town.”  

“I think you’d better leave,” the barman said to Julian.

“Don’t worry, I’m going.”

Staying upright with difficulty, Julian made his way outside. Kyle followed him as far as the door. “Julian,” he called after him, the anger gone from his voice, concern taking its place. “You’re not going to do anything stupid like kill yourself or anything, are you?”

Julian glanced back at him, eyes swimming. “No, but maybe it’d be better if I did.”

Relieved, Kyle let out a breath. “And what about us?” he asked tentatively. “Are we still mates?”

Julian stared at Kyle a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. Bye, Kyle.”

After fumbling the key into the ignition, Julian pulled away with a crunching of gears. He didn’t think about where he was going, he only thought about where he wasn’t going. I’m not going home, he told himself, all this shit has got to end, and end tonight. He kept slamming the heel of his hand into the steering-wheel as, in a kind of drunken trance, he drove out of town to Mr X’s place. As usual, the dog was waiting for him. His face twisted with irritation at the sight of it. He snatched up a stone and flung it with all his strength, scoring a direct hit on the animal’s muzzle, whooping triumphantly as it yelped and skittered away. He reeled backward himself a second later as it thrust its nose between the bars, barking.

“Shut the fuck up,” Julian yelled, stooping for another stone. The dog sprang away. It loitered at a safe distance with malicious intent in its eyes as Julian pressed the intercom button. “No more fucking around,” he hissed into it. “I’m here to cut a deal.”

As usual, silence roared back at Julian, closing in around him, beating against his eardrums. He pointed to the car. “That’s worth ten thousand at least. It’s yours. And there’s more where that came from, much more, as much as you want. My family’s rich. Just tell me how much you want.”

Julian knew he sounded desperate, knew he’d lost all pretence of self-control, but he didn’t care anymore. “Look, I’m laying it all on the table here. This is everything I’ve got to offer. Just give me Mia. I know you’ve got her, otherwise I’d be in jail, wouldn’t I?” After a moment’s more silence, he continued in a pleading, pathetic voice, “Oh God, give me her, please give me her, please, please…” He trailed off, hanging his head, his eyes filling with tears. The silence seemed to be getting louder and heavier by the second, as if it was trying to browbeat him into giving up.

Wiping his tears away savagely, he glowered at the security camera. “I won’t give up. Do you fucking hear me? Call the police, kick the shit out of me, whatever. I’ll keep coming back. I’ll never stop. Never!” With this last word, he hammered his fist against the intercom hard enough to crack its casing. Static flared, then the hiss of the intercom died. As it did, the gate began to slide open – not all the way, just far enough to let the dog through.

Heart lurching, Julian ran for his car. He might’ve made it, if his reactions hadn’t been dulled by alcohol. As he yanked the door open, the dog’s teeth closed around his right ankle. He screamed as they sank into his flesh. The dog ragged his leg from side to side, trying to drag him away from the car. He clung to the door and kicked the dog in the head. For an instant, its jaws loosened. Jerking his leg free, he dove into the car and slammed the door shut. The dog howled and scrabbled at the window, its breath misting the glass. Julian examined his leg. Blood leaked from two half-moons of deep looking puncture wounds on either side of his ankle. He pulled off his shoe and tied his sock around the wound in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding.

The dog, seemingly realising the futility of trying to force its way into the car, stopped howling and sat on its haunches, eyeballing Julian. He stared back at it, his eyes wet with pain and hate. He stared into the darkness beyond the gate, crazy thoughts rushing through his head. He imagined running the dog over, smashing through the gate, fighting his way into Mr X’s house and rescuing Mia. He shoved the thoughts aside. Likely, all such a course would achieve would be to get himself and her killed. “I’ll be back, you fucking sick fuck!” he shouted, almost screaming in his rage-spitting impotent frustration. Then he shoved the car into reverse.

Julian didn’t go home. A low groan escaping his lips every time he needed to brake, he drove around town until he found an all-night chemist, from which he bought a bandage, gauze pads and antiseptic wipes. Teeth gritted, he cleaned the bite and bandaged it as best he could.

Still, Julian didn’t go home. He parked in a side-street and sat staring at the night, his leg throbbing as painfully and relentlessly as his heart. He tried not to think about Eleanor. He tried not to think about Mia. He tried not to think about the consequences his loss of control might have on them. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He sat trapped between the desire to escape his thoughts through sleep, and the desire to escape his dreams by staying awake. He felt like shouting his lungs out, he felt like tearing the car apart, he felt like tearing himself apart. The pain throbbed on and on, like pulses of electricity. And at that moment he was glad of it, he immersed himself in it, kept himself sane with it.