I sucked in a lungful of muggy air and shrugged my shoulders. ‘I’m a bit older than you and have experience is what I’m saying, I suppose. My family, for instance—’

  ‘Don’t try to compete, or attempt to tell me your own pathetic stories about how fucked up your family is. And what the hell do you know about me and my family? Who the fuck are you to lecture me when we barely know each other?’ A flush crept up her neck and her fingers twitched as her words came tumbling out, hot and raw and full of sharp edges, cutting into the calm, tranquil ambience of the early morning air. ‘You know nothing about me and you know even less about my mum and dad. Especially my dad. He’s nothing but a bully. A big fucking useless pathetic bully.’

  I took a step back and raised my hands in mock surrender. She shook her head and moved forward, towards me. I remained silent. Then she lowered her head and let out a small moan of despair.

  I watched slow, silent tears roll down her face and drip onto her top, and stood motionless, unsure of what to do next. Did she want me to speak? To comfort her? Or would she rather I backed away and left her to cry in peace?

  We were held in a spell that I was loath to break. I couldn’t simply walk away and leave her like this. So I stepped closer, a breath suspended in my chest, a slight flutter in my abdomen, and placed my arm around her shoulders. She initially froze, her body stiff with anxiety, then without warning she burst into tears. Her body was racked with huge sobs as she leant against me and cried over and over until she eventually burnt herself out, her warm tears wetting my shirt and smearing over my skin. Lily’s chest rose and fell repeatedly as she gasped for breath and tried to compose herself. I said nothing. Silence seemed more fitting.

  We stayed like that for at least a minute. It was an eternity. I felt the heat from her body, the warmth of her breath on my neck, soft and sweet as it filtered up to my face. She shifted to get closer. Her small breasts pushed against my chest. My arm trailed down her back and hung by her waist. I felt a stirring in my groin and closed my eyes before snapping them open then gently pushing her away from me.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, my voice sounding as if it was coming from somebody other than me. ‘Let’s wipe your eyes and get you sorted.’

  I pulled an old cotton handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to her. She ran it over her face and blew her nose.

  ‘Keep it, ’I said as she tried to hand it back. ‘Plenty more at home.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered feebly. Her eyes bulged with sorrow. Even in the midst of a breakdown, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. Her radiance shone through her distress.

  ‘For what?’ I whispered.

  ‘For swearing at you. No need. No need at all.’ Her bottom lip quivered and I pictured myself licking it, pictured her lay next to me naked, our warm skin pressed together.

  Jesus Ray, stop it!

  ‘There’s every need. For all I know, your dad may well be the biggest twat known to man.’

  She laughed and more tears fell, rolling down her face, glassy orbs falling across silk. ‘God, I feel like such a big baby, crying like this. I can’t seem to stop. It’s me who feels like a right twat.’

  Even when she cried, Lily still had the ability to turn heads, to make grown men like me stop in the street and stare at her. I doubted she knew it. Women like her rarely did. Her skin was smooth and creamy like porcelain, her lashes dark and seductive. I sucked in a breath. What the fuck was I thinking? She was young. Too young for me. I guessed half my age. Too large a gap; a boundary that should never be crossed unless you’re a celebrity or a politician and happy to have a young model hanging off your arm for photo shoots.

  ‘Anyway,’ she sniffed, ‘I’d better be off. Got an early shift at the pub.’ She looked at me, as if waiting for my reply.

  I didn’t speak. What I wanted to say was that she should move out away from her parents and move in with me. I wanted to tell her that I’d love to fuck her. Thankfully, the words didn’t come. They lodged in my throat, almost choking me. I tried to think of other things – football, cars, rock music. Anything but Lily.

  We continued to watch each other, assessing, scrutinising, wondering where to go from here.

  ‘Right, well I’d better get moving as well,’ I said at long last. ‘Always loads to be getting on with in an old house.’ That wasn’t true. I had done all I intended to do for the time being.

  ‘I might see you later in the pub, then?’ She looked hopeful. My blood ran hot, spreading though my veins like lava.

  I smiled and nodded. ‘Why not? A cold pint in this heat could be just what I need.’ A cold beer was exactly what I needed at that point to cool my raging ardour and lust.

  ‘The usual crew will be in there,’ she added with a smile, ‘but don’t let that put you off.’

  I laughed. ‘Ah, like you said, once you get used to them, they’re not so bad. Not a bad bunch at all.’

  She nodded and another silence descended. Our eyes were locked together.

  She knows what you were thinking!

  Desperate to appear gentleman-like, I shifted my gaze over to a row of trees in the distance, focused on their shape, studied the vibrancy of their colour. Anything to keep my mind off Lily and her hot breath on my bare flesh.

  ‘Right,’ I said finally, ‘I’ll let you go. Might see you later though.’

  I watched her features. She seemed happy with that. Not repulsed by the older man, not disgusted by our age gap. Happy.

  ‘I’ll keep an eye out for you and have a pint at the ready.’ Her voice trailed over my skin, sensual, seductive. ‘Oh, and Ray?’

  I waited, feeling on edge if I’m being truthful, wondering what she was about to say, wondering if she had read my mind. I like to think I’m a closed book, but we all have our weak points, don’t we? Chinks in our armour that let the light in and the secrets out.

  ‘Yes?’ My voice came out as a definite squeak. I cleared my throat and braced myself for what she was about to say.

  She gave me a toothy grin, her large, wet eyes glistening in the sunlight that filtered in through the gaps in the trees above us. ‘I still mean every word that I said about my dad. For a man of the cloth, he’s a real nasty bastard. A horrible, horrible fucker.’

  19

  Lily’s words should have shocked me. They didn’t. If anything, they added to her appeal, gave her a bit of grit and heightened my attraction to her. She was a tough young thing, well rounded and ready to stand her ground. I admired that in her, saw it as a redeeming feature. She had charisma and whether I liked it or not, I was drawn to her.

  All the way back, I tried to block her out of my thoughts. I would go home, eat, hang around the house, potter in the garden and go to the pub. I would sit with the people in there – Davey if he was in, and Simon – and I would make small talk and not think about the eighteen-year-old serving behind the bar. I was thirty-seven, more than twice her age. It was unthinkable. So rather than lust after the young barmaid, I would drink and talk and then drink some more, pushing all thoughts of Lily to the back of my mind.

  I saw the figure as I drew closer to home; they were tall, and wearing a dark hat, a short-sleeved shirt and a high-vis jacket. And standing at my door. I stopped, my heartbeat a thick pulse that travelled up my throat, pushing at my skin, constricting my windpipe and stopping me from breathing properly. My scalp prickled as I neared the house. Why was he there? Why would a police officer be standing knocking at my door?

  I could hear the rap of his knuckles as he hit the wood, a hard, dull thump that echoed around the village. In no time at all, curtains would twitch, people would saunter out to wash cars or clean windows and mow lawns. There was always a job to be done outside when there was gossip to be had, something out of the ordinary going on in the vicinity. I picked up my pace, eager to reach him, and was behind the tall figure before his knuckles hit the door for a second time.

  ‘Can I help you?’ For somebody whose job it was to carry out investigative work and have a keen eye, he seemed shocked by my appearance, jumping visibly as my voice came from behind him.

  He swung around, eyes wide and face lined with shock as I strode up to him, pushed past and shoved my key in the lock.

  It didn’t take long for him to regain control, for his authoritative air to restore itself. He appeared to grow another three inches as he tugged at his hat and shoved his shoulders back. He smiled at me and spoke sharply. ‘Yes. You live here, I take it?’

  I was tempted to say no, to pretend my key didn’t fit and smile at him helplessly. I didn’t. Instead, I nodded amiably and opened the door, nodding for him to go inside. He held out his arm to indicate I should go first. I entered and he followed me, our shadows merging into one bulky mass as we headed though the hallway into the kitchen.

  ‘You’re Ray?’ he said as he removed his hat and placed it on the table. Without asking, he dragged a chair out and sat down, the wooden legs scraping across the flagstone floor, the noise repellent to me, causing my skin to shrink and stick to my bones like clingfilm.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Can I ask what the problem is?’

  He smiled and ran his hand through his hair. The day had barely begun and already drops of sweat lined his face and formed an arc around his hairline, tiny iridescent pearls of perspiration that glistened against his tanned skin. He was lean but his body was bulked out by his police vest. I was wearing thin clothes and the heat was unforgiving. I imagined a police uniform would push a body to its limits with so many thick layers, the fabric heavy and dark with starched edges and creases so sharp, you could cut through stone with them. Hardly the best outfit for a hot summer’s day. An inferno raged on his reddened face as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his brow.

  Without asking, I poured us both a glass of water and watched as he thanked me and glugged it back gratefully. It was the least I could do.

  He set the glass down and met my eyes. ‘I spoke to a Mrs Alice Milburn earlier. We have a report of some damage and vandalism at St Oswald’s. Gravestones defaced with spray paint?’

  ‘Ah. Yes, sorry,’ I said. My chest loosened and my pulse stopped its wild thrashing as I sat down next to him. ‘I’d forgotten about that. She did say she’d called the police yesterday when I spoke to her.’

  He took this as some sort of slight, bristling visibly at my words. ‘Well, Ray, we take all calls seriously but with it being a low-level incident – no casualties as such – we sometimes take a bit longer to investigate. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘I was just wondering if you could tell me anything about it?’

  I was curious as to why he had come to me and whether he’d already tried to speak to Gavin Yuill and got no response. I imagined the sight of a police officer at Gavin’s door would be enough to send him scuttling behind the sofa where he would hide out, ignoring the hammering and knocking at his front door. Or maybe he had fled out the back door and was currently way out of reach, on a bus to somewhere else, cursing this village and wondering when everybody would stop dredging up his past and blaming him for every single minor crime and misdemeanour that happened around here.

  ‘I spoke to Alice and accompanied her to the church,’ I said. ‘She was upset, obviously. I’m not sure what it is you want from me.’ Flashes of Gavin skulking out of the churchyard that morning filled my mind – images of him trying to sneak past me. I could tell this police officer, spill the beans. With Gavin’s track record, they would have him arrested in no time, hauled into the station and cautioned for criminal damage. The quiet life he worked hard to preserve would be in tatters.

  ‘Mrs Milburn said you were at the door of a certain Mr Yuill when she met you. I was just interested as to why you were there?’

  I eyed him cautiously, tried to work out what he was getting at. Did he think I was Gavin’s accomplice? More to the point, did Alice see me as some sort of suspect? If she wanted to know why I was trying to see Gavin, why didn’t she just ask?

  ‘Well, PC…?’ I stopped, my tone suggestive of an introduction. He was here, in my house, and I had no idea of his name or rank. I should have asked earlier. In fact, he should have told me. Without knowing who he was, I should not have let him in.

  ‘PCSO Greening,’ he said, and I watched with a certain degree of satisfaction as a web of crimson crept up his neck, stopping at the tips of his ears, which glowed bright red, his skin shiny and raw like dead meat. I didn’t know whether to pity him or tell him to leave for being so inept.

  ‘Okay, well, as I was saying, PCSO Greening, I was putting my number through Gavin’s door when Alice saw me.’ I didn’t offer any more information. If he wanted to know, he would have to ask. I wasn’t on trial here.

  Greening slowly turned to look out of the window at the pale stretch of garden, the once lush grass now straw-coloured and dry, bleached and parched by the relentless heat and lack of rain. Blue tits and chaffinches fluttered around the bird feeder, their tiny, perpetually moving wings a distraction to the awkward atmosphere that had suddenly descended. His eyes remained on the feeding birds as he spoke. His deep, rumbling voice was like shifting gravel in the silence of the room. ‘And can I ask why you were putting your number through Mr Yuill’s door?’

  I could so easily have replied that no, he couldn’t ask, but of course knew all too well what sort of reaction such a reply would provoke. So instead, I did the right thing and gave him the answer I knew he wanted. ‘Alice has probably already told you that I’m new to the village. I passed Gavin that morning. We chatted. I suggested we go out for a beer sometime and was putting my number through his door so he could contact me.’

  ‘Couldn’t he just knock?’ Greening adjusted his jacket and idly drummed his fingers against the frame of the chair. The noise was insidious, growing in crescendo, like somebody hammering a small nail into my skull.

  I sighed heavily. He was going to make me say it. Did we really have to go through the finite details? The minutiae of poor Gavin’s life since his release from prison? ‘PCSO Greening, I’m almost certain Alice will have told you about Gavin’s past, his criminal record and how all the villagers hate him. Do you really think he’s going to walk around the place being sociable and knocking on people’s doors?’

  ‘But you were prepared to go out for a drink with him? Isn’t that considered a social activity?’ Greening looked inordinately pleased with himself. I wanted to reach over and slap his fingers away to stop the incessant noise he was making on the wedge of wood beneath his fingers.

  ‘Like I said,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘I’m new here. Maybe I feel sorry for him? He’s paid for his crime, hasn’t he? Don’t we all deserve a second chance?’

  Greening moved about in his chair, adjusting his posture and straightening his substantial layers of clothing. Any thoughts I had of telling him about Gavin’s sneaky exit from the graveyard yesterday morning were immediately quashed. Clearly, Gavin was already a suspect. Nothing I said or did would change that. My words would have him banged up in no time. The locals would make his life a misery, possibly even drive him out of his home. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  To my surprise, Greening nodded. The dark veil of suspicion that sat behind his eyes began to lift, revealing a human soul, somebody who appeared to care. A fleeting sense of something shot through me – hard to pin down and classify.

  I stood up and shook it away. We were both grown men. We knew the rules, the boundaries. Some things are best left unsaid. Greening also stood up and shook my hand. As expected, he had a firm grasp, the grip of somebody who knew his place in society, the grip of somebody who always walked on the right side of the law. I thought of Gavin and what could lie ahead, how his life here in Whitchurch could eventually turn out. I had expected Greening to ask about the dog shit on the cars and the letters. I was ready for more questions from him. Had Alice even mentioned those things? She was so churned up about Dominic and the graffiti, maybe it had slipped her mind, wasn’t on her radar as a priority. That didn’t surprise me. I reckoned Alice’s day began and ended with Dominic and the church. Everything else was on the periphery of her existence.

  ‘Thanks for your help, Ray. And well done for being a good neighbour. All I will say is, just be careful who you socialise with. Not everybody is as friendly as you. Some people have another agenda behind their words and actions.’

  I nodded and led him into the long hallway. For a brief time, our shadows merged again as we walked together. I turned and stared at the silhouette our combined shapes made in the narrow vestibule. My flesh prickled as Greening turned to face me. Behind him, our nebulous form had suddenly morphed into something else, something more sinister. I couldn’t say exactly what it was. My eyes stung. Heat rose in my belly. My skin grew cold and clammy. I moved. Or perhaps it was Greening who moved first. It was too quick to say but the image disappeared as rapidly as it had come. I let out a deep, shuddering breath.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Greening had leaned towards me, his hand outstretched. ‘You’ve gone pale all of a sudden.’

  I shook my head and made a deliberate attempt to push my shoulders back. I was still a good six inches shorter than this guy but the adjustment to my stance ruptured the moment and gave me a swift adrenaline rush. ‘I’m fine, thanks. It’s this heat, I think.’

  ‘Try strolling the streets in this lot,’ Greening replied with a smile. He patted his jacket and sighed. ‘Weighs a bloody ton. I may as well be wearing chainmail. It’s absolute torture.’

  He towered above me. His shock of dark hair was swept back and his features were softer than when I’d first let him in. I had gained his trust. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He placed his hat back on his head and stepped outside into the blazing sun, turning to say goodbye before striding over the step and onto the pavement.

  I watched him saunter off down the street and get into a patrol car, then I turned away, slammed the door and slipped back into the shadows.