Simon Beckett - The Restless Dead

Rachel smiled, more grateful for the attempt at conversation than the compliment. ‘Thanks. The recipe calls it chicken stroganoff, but that’s just a fancy name for chicken and mushroom casserole.’

‘It’s very good,’ Trask said dutifully. He reached to pour himself more wine. I saw Rachel watching him. So did Jamie.

‘Can I have a glass?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Let’s just have dinner, shall we?’

‘I don’t see why I can’t have a glass of wine as well. I’m eighteen, I drink when I go out.’

‘But not in this house. Once you go to university you can please yourself, but until then you’ll do as I say.’

My stomach sank: after the conversation I’d had with Jamie I knew what was coming. Jamie’s expression hardened. ‘I told you, I’m not going to university.’

Trask paused, then resumed eating. ‘Don’t start that again.’

‘I’m not. You brought it up.’

‘Then let it drop. We’re not having this conversation now.’

‘Fine. There’s nothing to talk about anyway. It’s my decision, and I’ve already made it.’

Fay had been chewing slowly, watching them both wide-eyed. ‘I don’t want Jamie to leave home.’

Her brother gave her a strained smile. ‘It’s OK, I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Stay out of this, Fay,’ Trask told her. ‘And Jamie, don’t make your sister promises you can’t keep. It isn’t fair to build her hopes up.’

‘What’s fair got to do with it?’ Jamie demanded. ‘It’s my life, I can do what I want.’

‘Jamie...’ Rachel said, but neither he nor his father paid any attention.

‘Not if you’re going to be a bloody idiot!’ Trask snapped. ‘I’m not letting you throw everything away on some juvenile whim!’

‘Right, because you’re such an expert.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You know what it means. You’re really lecturing me about bad decisions?’

‘That’s enough. Go to your room.’

‘Why? It’s true, we all know it! If you hadn’t insisted on dragging us all out here, she wouldn’t be—’

Trask’s chair screeched on the wooden floor as he jumped to his feet. I tried to think of a way to defuse the situation and came up with nothing.

‘What’re you going to do? Hit me?’ Jamie’s face was flushed and angry, making the twin patches that remained on his cheeks all the more livid. ‘Go on then, you’ve been dying to for ages! You might as well—’

‘ Stop it!’ Rachel’s shout cut through the anger in the room. ‘For Christ’s sake, both of you, just... stop !’

Everyone looked at her. She stared down at the table, her chest rising and falling. The tension stretched out. Trask drew breath to speak, but as he did there was a loud hammering from downstairs.

Someone was at the front door.

It was as though a bubble had burst. For a second or two no one reacted, then Trask recovered.

‘Who the hell’s that?’ he said, turning towards the stairs. Whoever it was, they wanted to attract our attention. I could feel the floor vibrate as the banging continued. The dog started barking, adding to the din.

‘I’ll go. Shush, Cassie,’ Rachel said, starting to rise. Trask waved her back, a look of annoyance on his face.

‘No, you stay here.’ I got the impression he was glad of the excuse as he hurried downstairs. ‘All right, all right !’

The banging didn’t let up. Rachel turned to Jamie. ‘You OK?’

He nodded, but his colour still hadn’t returned to normal. ‘Yeah.’

‘They’re going to break the door ,’ Fay said, sounding both indignant and scared as the hammering grew even louder.

‘Jesus, I said all right !’ Trask’s voice carried up from the hallway. The noise stopped as the front door was unlocked. ‘OK, what’s the—’

‘ Where is the little fucker? ’

There was a sudden commotion. I jumped up as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs, and then Coker appeared at the top of them.

The oil-stained overalls and cap had been replaced by jeans and a short-sleeved shirt pulled tight over biceps and gut. The burly owner of the marine salvage yard came straight at Jamie, his face savage.

‘You little shit, I fucking warned you!’

I stepped in front of Coker, intending to try and calm him down. I wasn’t given the chance. He barged me aside, and whether by accident or design his hand caught me in the face. A flashbulb went off in my vision as I grabbed on to him, trying to pull him back. It was like trying to slow a bull. There was solid bulk under the fat, but instead of knocking me away he abruptly stopped. Blinking my eyes to clear them, I saw that Rachel had an arm around Fay, her other hand gripping the barking dog’s collar. Jamie stood in front of them, his face now pale but determined.

In his hand was the long-bladed bread knife.

‘What you going to do with that?’ Coker sneered, but he didn’t go any nearer. I still had hold of his arm, breathing in his odour of oil and sweat. As I wondered what to do next Rachel thrust the dog’s collar into Fay’s hand and advanced on him.

‘What the hell’s wrong with you?’

Coker seemed taken aback by her outrage. He jerked his chin at Jamie.

‘Ask him!’

Jamie looked confused, then he stared past Coker and his expression changed. ‘Dad? Are you OK?’

Trask had emerged at the top of the stairs, shaken and dishevelled but unhurt. His fists were clenched tight as he took in the scene.

‘You’ve got five seconds to get out before I call the police.’

Coker jerked his arm away from me. ‘Fine! Call them. Tell them what your fucking son did!’

‘And what did he do?’

‘He tried to rape Stacey!’

Jamie gaped at him, then his face suddenly coloured. ‘ What? That’s bollocks!’

‘She phoned me up, terrified!’ Coker snarled. ‘She said you’ve been pestering her for weeks, wouldn’t take no for an answer! And when she wouldn’t change her mind you tried to force her!’

‘Me, force her ? You’re joking, she’s been begging me to—’

Trask’s voice was like a whip. ‘Enough!’

‘But Dad—’

‘I said that’s enough . And for God’s sake put that bloody knife down!’ He turned to Coker. ‘When’s this supposed to have happened?’

‘There’s no supposed , it was after she left work this afternoon!’ Coker spat. ‘She called me in tears. Made me promise not to tell the police, didn’t want to get the little bastard into trouble!’

Jamie threw his arms up. ‘Oh, come on ! She came out here wanting me to go to some crappy party tomorrow, and when I said no she slapped me and drove off! She’s just causing trouble!’

‘She should have ripped your balls off, never mind slap you!’ Coker’s fists were clenched, but he managed to restrain himself. ‘Stacey wouldn’t come here again, she knows better than that! You called her pretending there was something important you had to say, got her to meet you outside town and then you were all over her! Nearly ripped her top off!’

‘Dad, this is bullshit!’

‘Jamie was home all day,’ Trask said stonily. ‘I can’t say what your daughter did, but I can tell you he hasn’t been anywhere.’

‘How do you know? Been watching him all the time, have you?’ Coker sneered. ‘You stuck up for him before and you’re doing it now!’

This wasn’t my argument, but I couldn’t keep quiet when I knew something they didn’t. ‘What time was this?’ I asked.

Coker glared at me. ‘The fuck’s it to do with you?’

‘A white Fiesta with racing stripes nearly ran me over outside the boathouse about an hour ago,’ I said. ‘It was heading away from here, going back towards town.’