Matt Whyman - The Savages

That the boy quickly realised he was being followed came as no surprise to the private investigator.

‘You’re bound to be paranoid,’ said Vernon, who had seen it all before. ‘It’s what happens when you carry around a guilty secret.’

He made no attempt to back off. In his experience, keeping up the pressure like this simply made it more likely that the kid would crack and confess. On seeing Ivan pass the pizza place, only to wheel around as Sasha’s boyfriend bundled out in a state of some animation, Vernon pulled up smartly in the van. Was Jack Greenway in on it, too? What was with the drama? With his eyes fixed on the pair, Vernon reached across for his pasty. He found the packet on the seat, and then dropped it again as if he’d just discovered it was wired to the vehicle’s battery.

‘For crying out loud!’ he growled, and flapped his hand until the pain eased. ‘You could fuel a power station with this!’

Having his lunch right beside him, seemingly superheated, was beginning to place Vernon in a foul mood. He was hungry, irritable, and also distracted, he realised, on looking back at the pizza place. Luckily, he caught sight of the pair as they headed for the little car park behind the building. He waited for the hybrid to edge out, and then let several cars pass before tailing it. Even if the pair knew they were being followed, he didn’t want them to recognise him. Every now and then, he would test the pasty on the passenger seat. Each time it felt a little cooler, in that it wouldn’t now turn an ocean to steam. Eventually, on reaching a set of traffic lights, Vernon found that he could actually hold it in one hand without having to make a beeline to the hospital burn’s unit.

‘This had better be worth it,’ he muttered, and eased the top of the pasty from the packet. With one hand grasping the wheel still, Vernon chewed off a generous corner. His teeth sunk through the pastry crust, which was now bearable. Unfortunately for Vernon, it also insulated what felt to him just then like a filling made from molten lava. Instinctively, he spat it out against the windscreen. The gravy was just as hot, as he discovered a second later as it slopped onto his lap, followed by chunks of steak. ‘Get off me!’ he cried and tried to swat away what could have been hot coals dropping on him. With his mouth, hands and crotch on fire, or at least that’s how it felt to him, the private investigator went into panic. Despite the fact that the traffic lights were about to turn from red to green, he snapped off his seat belt, threw open the car door and jumped out while attempting to hold the front the fabric of his trousers away from his skin.

‘Are you OK there?’ asked a guy on the pavement, holding a Golf Sale sign like a downcast standard bearer.

Vernon English finished brushing himself down with the cap he had grabbed from his head. He glanced across with flushed cheeks and watering eyes.

‘Hot snack,’ is all he could bring himself to say at first, just as the cars ahead pulled away at the lights. ‘Shouldn’t be allowed!’

Sasha Savage felt as if she had just admitted to a murder. For several minutes after telling her grandfather about her developing a taste for vegetarian food, they had sat side by side upon his bed without looking at one another. Oleg simply stared across the room, barely blinking. Sasha was equally lost for words, for her confession had come from the heart. It was rare for her to have been so candid and raw, even with her friends, and it felt both awkward for her and a huge release. Only Katya kept the silence at bay as she gabbled to herself on the floor before them.

‘It’s just a thing,’ Sasha reasoned eventually. ‘It doesn’t change who I am.’

‘A carnivore,’ said Oleg, as if to remind her.

‘Maybe,’ said Sasha, and then dipped down to pull Katya’s sleeve away from her mouth. ‘Or… maybe not any more.’

When she rose up again, she found his attention had returned to the remains of the tofu he had taken from Katya.

‘What’s the attraction?’ he asked, and then shifted his gaze back to Sasha. ‘Truthfully?’

Sasha considered the question for a moment. She clasped her hands in her lap, well aware that there was no going back from this.

‘To begin with I did it for a boy,’ she said, facing little Kat. ‘But now I’m not sure what to think. I’ve gone without meat for a month, and if I’m brutally honest, I don’t miss it that much.’

Oleg nodded, still facing her side on.

‘How have you kept this from us?’ he asked quietly.

Sasha breathed out, focusing on the wall for a moment. It was one thing to admit to her dietary deviation. Revealing that she’d had in-house help was quite another.

‘Mum has been good to me,’ she said eventually, and grimaced to herself.

Oleg turned his attention to the wall across the room once more. He nodded to himself, shrugging at the same time.

‘She doesn’t want to lose you,’ replied Oleg. ‘She’s scared.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Sasha. ‘She just respects my decision.’

Oleg laughed dismissively.

‘Your decision,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re still a girl, Sasha.’

‘But I’m not,’ she said, determined not to back down now. ‘Grandpa, I’m nearly sixteen.’

‘You don’t know your own mind yet,’ he scoffed.

‘But I’m old enough to make my own mistakes and learn from them.’

Her response hung in the air. It left Oleg looking at her searchingly. She knew full well that her grandfather had spent much of his life devoted to a pursuit that he believed brought the family together. He had seen his own son adopts his values, and now here she was, turning away from everything he stood for.

‘Are you happy?’ he asked, in barely a whisper.

‘Totally.’ Sasha smiled to herself. ‘It feels like the right thing to do.’

Oleg placed his palms on his knees. For a moment, he and his eldest grandchild watched his youngest at play.

‘This family is bound by a tradition,’ he said. ‘Feasting is what keeps us tight. It stops us from drifting apart.’

‘I know that,’ said Sasha. ‘But I’m not just a Savage. I’m me.’

Just then, Katya noticed that her grandfather was still holding the tofu. The toddler reached up for it, screeching enthusiastically. At first Oleg seemed reluctant to let her have it. Finally, her persistence paid off. With a resigned sigh, he offered it to her.

‘I know how it feels to go without,’ he said eventually. ‘It takes discipline and willpower.’

‘Tell me about it,’ replied Sasha. ‘The whole bacon thing is killing me.’

Her grandfather glanced around at her.

‘I would struggle without human flesh just once in a while, especially tongue. Pan-seared with just a twist of Szechuan pepper.’ He stopped there to kiss his thumb and two fingers. ‘It’s all I ask for in life nowadays. That and the wellbeing of my son, his wife and their children.’

Sasha laughed despite herself.

‘So, does this mean you understand?’

‘Times change,’ he said, as a note of some sadness entered his voice. ‘Things that once felt so important can become left behind. If giving up meat makes you truly happy, then so be it. Just so long as you don’t give up on family.’

‘I’m more concerned that they’ll give up on me,’ Sasha admitted.

Oleg nodded, knowing just what she meant.

‘Your father will find it unthinkable for sure,’ he said. ‘He believes it is his duty to pass on the family way from one generation to the next.’

‘So, how will I win him over?’

‘You can’t just tell him as you told me,’ her grandfather said. ‘To convince him that you’ll always be a Savage, no matter what you eat, you’ll have to show him.’