Matt Whyman - The Savages

The response, as such, came in the shape of a dart to Vernon’s left buttock. He barely felt it puncture his trousers and skin, largely on account of the fifty-thousand volt shock it delivered to every fibre of his body. Vernon didn’t make a sound, having momentarily swallowed his tongue. He simply snapped upright in pain, his eyes bulging, and then sheer surprise when the convulsions stopped and a hand appeared from behind him clasping a silk neckerchief. It was doused in a sweet-smelling chemical, he realised, on finding it clamped to his mouth. A second later, overcome by chloroform fumes, the private investigator slumped back into the arms of his assailant.

Sasha Savage paused outside the café. She was nervous about the conversation that was about to take place. It wasn’t something she had expected, but as soon as she heard his voice on the phone it felt like the right thing to do. Taking a breath, she pushed open the door. There he was, rising from the table on seeing her.

‘Hi,’ said Ralph, and gestured at the seat opposite. ‘What can I get you?’

Sasha lit up at the young man she had spoken to briefly at the university talk. He was as scruffy as she remembered, with a heartfelt smile and a crinkle beside each eye that told her how much he liked to laugh.

‘Whatever you’re having is good,’ she said. ‘So long as it isn’t vegan.’

Sasha had given Ralph her number during the interval. It had been good for her to meet someone who was also embarking on a trial without meat at the same time. Ralph shared the same hopes, doubts and weaknesses as she did, and so when he asked to keep in touch she didn’t look for an excuse. As he tapped the digits into his phone, he had jokingly promised not to stalk her. Sasha had been too shy to ask for his number in return. It didn’t seem right, given that she was supposedly with her boyfriend. It was only afterwards, on the drive home, that she began to hold out hope that he would call. Jack had just not stopped talking about Amanda. It wasn’t only her bonkers beliefs that he admired. He even praised her sense of style and the courage he felt it would’ve taken for her to stand up and share her views. Then, on dropping off Sasha at her house, he’d had the nerve to try it on with her again. Sasha had responded to his wandering hands by climbing out of the hybrid. That evening, she had gone to bed hoping Jack would wake up and realise how insensitive he’d been. Instead, he’d gone quiet on her. More immediately, to Sasha’s surprise, she found she wasn’t greatly upset about it.

Jack had opened her eyes to many things, and that included the growing realisation that she just wasn’t that into him. He’d certainly swept her off her feet in the beginning, and seduced her with his views on food, but beyond that he only seemed to be interested in bedding her. Sasha had been prepared to see how things panned out, to give him a chance to show he had a deeper side, but seeing him flounce from the house over the prank with the tea just convinced her it was over. She hadn’t felt too bad about it. That Jack hadn’t been in touch himself made her think the feeling was mutual.

‘Jack and I want different things,’ she told Ralph over coffee. ‘But I don’t have any regrets. They say you should always try something before you decide whether or not you like it.’

Ralph smiled, clasping his mug with both hands.

‘I didn’t know if I should call you,’ he said after a moment. ‘I hope it’s OK.’

Sasha was pleased that he had. Ralph really seemed like a genuine guy. At the same time, after everything that had happened with Jack, she realised just then that what she needed here was friendship. As someone else setting out on the same path as her, she could see in Ralph’s eyes that he felt the same way.

‘So, how are you getting on with the whole vegetarian thing?’

Ralph set his mug down on the table.

‘Well, it’s tough!’ he said. ‘I’m definitely a veggie at heart. I just can’t speak for my stomach sometimes.’

‘Any bacon moments?’

‘Oh, constantly.’

‘Me, too.’ Sasha grinned, her eyes locked on his. Ralph held her gaze with ease.

‘I need to tell you something,’ he said finally. ‘It’s confession time.’

‘Go on.’

Ralph toyed with the sugar sachet.

‘Once or twice over the last couple of days,’ he told her, ‘I’ve given in to temptation.’

‘No!’ Sasha pretended to look shocked, but laughed despite herself. ‘Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if I did the same thing.’

‘Really?’

Sasha considered what she had to say next.

OK, it’s my turn,’ she began. ‘Sometimes, I crave something so unspeakable I can’t even put it into words.’

‘More unspeakable than bacon?’

‘Oh, so unspeakable.’

‘Want to try me?’

‘No,’ said Sasha, ‘but it feels good just telling you that. Like a weight off my shoulders.’

Ralph held her gaze for a moment, and then chuckled.

‘So, why not give in to temptation?’ he suggested. ‘It won’t kill you.’

Sasha thought about this for a moment.

‘I suppose there are no rules to say that I can’t.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ralph. ‘All these people beating themselves up about not eating this or only eating that. I’m beginning to think sometimes it’s best to just go with what feels good.’

Finding herself nodding before he had even finished, Sasha smiled and wagged a finger at him playfully.

‘You’re a bad influence,’ she told him. ‘Just when I’ve been doing so well.’

‘Hey, don’t let me influence your eating habits.’ Ralph held up his hands, grinning still. ‘I’m not here to judge you.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Sasha. ‘And I’m not here to give you a hard time about bacon. A treat is good for the soul every now and then.’

‘So it is,’ said Ralph. ‘Especially on white bread with ketchup.’

‘We all have our favourites,’ agreed Sasha.

‘I’m glad I’m not alone.’

Sasha glanced at the table, as if summoning the courage to speak from the heart.

‘You’re not alone,’ she said quietly.

Ralph nodded, still playing with the sachet.

‘Likewise.’

For a second they said nothing. There was no need. The silence was only broken when Sasha’s mobile phone began to ring. She glanced at the name on the screen and immediately rejected the call.

‘That’s the first time Jack’s tried to reach me since he slammed our front door in my face,’ said Sasha. ‘I wonder what he wants now?’

‘You should speak to him.’

Sasha pocketed her phone.

‘I will,’ she promised. ‘It’s important that one of us does the right thing.’

Vernon English came to his senses over the course of an hour. At first, as he surfaced from the anaesthetic properties of the drug vapour he’d inhaled, he struggled to register anything more than the fact that he was still alive. His whole body felt like a dead weight, not least his head, which throbbed madly. As for his surroundings, Vernon’s clouded brain initially told him that he must be in the hold of a ship at sea, for all he could hear was the creaking of timber and ropes. Eventually, he summoned the presence of mind to open his eyes. Thanks to a solitary light bulb, he realised that he was in fact in a concrete-lined room, with no windows or door. It contained one plastic chair and a tall, wall-mounted steel cabinet. Both appeared to be upside down, he noted as his vision continued to recover. A moment later, the private investigator realised the furnishings just looked like that because he was strung up by his ankles from an oak beam overhead.