Алекс Баркли - I Confess

‘No,’ said Johnny. ‘Edie — no. Are you serious? Do you seriously think I did this?’

Edie took a few steps towards him. ‘I don’t—’

‘Is that what you all think?’ said Johnny. ‘We’re having a nice dinner, I go out and kill someone, come back in...’ He shrugged.

Clare held up her hands. ‘Look — apart from there being no evidence of him being up on the roof, no one knows what happened here.’

‘Somebody fucking does,’ said Johnny.

Everyone went quiet.

‘And it’s not me!’ said Johnny.

‘We need to call the guards,’ said Laura. She held out her hand, palm up. ‘And it’s raining. We need to cover him up properly.’

‘It’s already been raining,’ said Johnny. ‘What difference does it make at this stage?’

Laura stared at him. ‘That’s ridiculous. Apart from anything, there could be something inside in that tarpaulin with him. Or if rain starts to pool in there...’

‘This is fucked up,’ said Johnny. ‘What the fuck?’

‘Whatever the fuck,’ said Murph, ‘we’re getting soaked here.’

‘And there’s no point standing around talking about it,’ said Laura. ‘Can we just go inside, call the guards and at least get that over with?’

Johnny was staring into space.

‘Johnny,’ said Laura. ‘The guards?’

He frowned. ‘Yes. Yes.’

Edie turned round and started to walk back to the inn, her arms wrapped across her stomach, her shoulders hunched. She stopped when she got inside the door and let the others pass. ‘Go ahead into the bar,’ she said. ‘I’ll follow you in.’

Johnny was the last to come in. He stood in front of her, fear flickering in his eyes.

‘What happened?’ she said.

‘You’re asking me? I told you — how the fuck would I know?’

‘But... you were the only one dealing with him,’ said Edie. ‘What happened?’

‘Why do you keep asking me that?’ said Johnny. ‘I don’t fucking know.’

‘You seem... edgy.’

‘So do you! Jesus Christ. Of course I’m fucking edgy. There’s a dead body in our garden.’ He paused. ‘This is a nightmare. What the fuck are we supposed to do? I’m in deep shit—’

Edie’s head snapped back. ‘Why are you in deep shit?’

Johnny stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘You mean apart from “because my wife’s looking at me like I just made a confession by accident”? I’m in deep shit, Edie, because I couldn’t stand the prick, half the town knows it, and now he’s lying dead outside our house. Who’d be your number one suspect?’

‘You need to calm down, Johnny. Seriously. You look... I don’t know—’

‘What?’ said Johnny. ‘Tell me — how do I look?’

She stared at him. ‘Unhinged.’

‘Wow,’ said Johnny.

‘If there’s anything you need to tell me,’ said Edie.

Johnny opened his mouth. Edie waited, panic flickering in her eyes. The sound of footsteps echoed towards them from the hallway. Edie spun around. Laura was walking towards them, then stopped. She stood with her arms crossed, looking back and forth between them.

‘We’re coming — sorry,’ said Edie. She turned to Johnny, flashing warning eyes at him before she walked away. Johnny reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to him.

‘What are you doing?’ said Edie, her voice a low hiss, as she gently slid her arm from his grip.

‘Just...’ He leaned in close to her. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’

‘Lads — come on,’ said Laura.

Johnny looked up at her. ‘Give us a minute, for fuck’s sake.’

‘What’s going on?’ said Laura. ‘We need to—’

‘Can you shut the fuck up for one minute?’ said Johnny.

‘Jesus, calm down,’ said Laura.

‘How am I meant to calm down when—’

‘Johnny,’ said Edie, drawing his attention back to her. She lowered her voice. ‘You’re not doing yourself any favours, here. I mean it: calm down.’

Johnny let out a long breath.

‘And looking at you like what?’ said Edie.

‘Like... you’re afraid of me.’

A frown flickered on Edie’s face. ‘I’m... not.’ She turned and walked over to Laura. Johnny followed. When they got to the door of the bar, he stopped.

‘Go ahead in. Give me five.’

‘What?’ said Edie. ‘Where are you going?’

‘The jacks.’ He walked away.

Laura turned to Edie. ‘OK — what’s going on?’

Edie frowned. ‘What?’

‘Did he... do something?’

Edie stared at her. ‘What? No. He has no idea what happened. We’re the same as the rest of you.’

Johnny walked down the steps to the basement. He made his way to the wine cellar, loosened a panel at the bottom of one of the shelves, reached in, pulled out a tin, and prised off the lid. He looked inside. It was empty. He frowned, then stared up at the ceiling.

‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.’

Murph was standing in the bar by the confession box. There was a bottle of Jameson, a bottle of Hennessy XO and five glasses lined up in front of him. Clare was standing at the window, her arms crossed, looking out into the night. Laura was sitting at one of the tables close to her. Patrick was standing at the edge of the hearth. He reached down, took a log from the basket, and threw it on to the fire.

‘Where’s Johnny?’ said Laura. She leaned back in her chair. ‘Edie! Where’s Johnny?’

Edie was standing by the wall with her arms folded.

‘Here’s Johnny,’ said Johnny, walking in the door, his arms outstretched.

He walked over to Murph and squinted at the glasses, counting them with his finger. ‘None for me?’ he said.

Murph stared at him. ‘Patrick doesn’t drink?’

Johnny gave him an upward nod, and took the first glass of brandy.

Murph frowned. He pointed to a bottle of 7UP. ‘Give Patrick that.’

Johnny handed Patrick his drink, and nodded to the armchair by the fire.

‘Thanks,’ said Patrick, sitting down.

Clare reached out and drew the curtains closed. She fixed them neatly across the window, then sat opposite Laura.

Johnny started to pace in front of the door, glass in hand. He stopped halfway to the corner and looked up at Edie.

‘Sit down,’ he said, pointing her to the chair opposite Patrick’s. She did as he asked.

Johnny kept pacing, the colour rising in his face, sweat shining on his brow. Everyone exchanged glances.

‘Sure, why don’t you sit down yourself?’ said Murph.

Johnny, scowling, batted a hand at him.

‘I think he’s right,’ said Patrick. ‘You might want to sit down.’

Johnny stared at him, his pupils huge. ‘I’m fine. This is just fucked up. It’s totally fucked up.’

‘I know,’ said Patrick. ‘But—’

‘It had to have been an accident,’ said Johnny. ‘It had to have been.’ He stopped and wiped the sweat from his hairline. ‘Like — I don’t know how he ended up in the tarp...’ He shook his head. ‘But...’

‘You’re probably right,’ said Murph, walking over to him. ‘It probably was an accident.’ He put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. ‘But, either way, you’ve had a shock and it might be a good idea to—’

Johnny elbowed his way out of Murph’s grip. ‘I’m fucking fine!’ He raised his hands. ‘Just... get out of my face for a minute.’

Murph hovered, then walked over to the window and sat at the free table.

Laura leaned forward until she was in Edie’s eyeline. ‘Edie? If he’s just going to stand there — or walk up and down there — can you do the honours? Make the call to the guards and at least get that out of the way.’

There was a flash of movement by the door and everyone looked up. Johnny was standing with his back to them, a triangle of sweat soaked into his white shirt, his left hand high on the door, his right hand turning the key in it. The lock clicked.