Curious Campers

by Anne Lown

  Getting to his feet, Scott returned the blow with a back fist and then an uppercut, splitting the man’s lip and spraying his onesie with droplets of blood. The man’s teeth clunked shut, and he staggered backwards.

  The dealer recovered quickly and smacked Scott square on the nose, causing a bleed and ruining his makeup. He landed on the ground with a thump.

  Both Scott and Jason struggled to get up, leaving the dealer to save face and walk away with his pride and business intact.

  “What the hell was all that?” Jenny was furious with them. They’d barely been at the pub an hour, and Scott had already been beaten up by someone he knew.

  Jason laughed. He cackled so loud Scott joined in. Both men lay on the paving slabs, their chests heaving with their hysterics.

  Jenny muttered to herself and shook her head. She would’ve walked away, but the thought of Martin getting his hands on her again kept her outside.

  “You should see your face,” Scott said in between panting for breath and each howl.

  “Well, it worked,” Jason replied. He winked at her, maybe trying to let her in on the prank they’d agreed to pull earlier.

  “What worked?” By now she was standing cross-armed and tapping her foot.

  Scott shook his head, the blood dripping in an arc around him. “I could hardly beat up my supplier, could I? He’s the cheapest I’ve found.”

  “Hey, guys, what’re you all doing out here?” It was Les Mack from work. He was an agency driver who drove the seven and a half tonne lorries for the network and other companies but was friendly with the postmen on the production side. His girlfriend, Nadine, had a duty on the main floor and helped in the traffic office if they needed her. They’d been together over a decade, but rumours had it things were rather rocky of late between them.

  “Hey, Les, you made it.” Scott stood to greet his friend, offering to shake his hand.

  “Um, no,” Les said on seeing the smear of blood on Scott’s knuckles. He was a clean-living freak and kept away from those sorts of shared body fluids.

  “You here with Nadine?”

  “Not really,” Les said, his answer vague as usual.

  “I heard the rumour but didn’t think it was true. You two broke up?”

  Jenny knew Scott’s interest wasn’t to comfort his friend. He had a different agenda entirely. Without Nadine on the scene controlling his every movement and interaction, Les was free to have a good time. The fact he didn’t drink alcohol would totally escape Scott’s attention; he didn’t worry about such minor points because he’d still get tanked up.

  “Hey, Jenny,” Les said.

  She hadn’t thought he’d noticed her standing in the corner by the wall. She’d heard the rumours, too; it was all over the mail centre, including deliveries.

  “Hello, Les.”

  “Coming inside?” He cocked his head towards the door.

  Les had a silky tone to his voice. It was a pleasure to hear him speak, and the keen mind he possessed made him worth talking to. She glanced in the direction he’d nodded, hesitating over her decision.

  “It’s okay,” he said, “I’ll take care of you.” Les winked at her with a broad, encouraging smile, his teeth pearly white against his perfect velvety chocolate skin.

  She understood what attracted Nadine to him. With his playful wit, gym-toned body, and incredibly handsome face, Jenny couldn’t believe he’d turned the charm on her. There would be ructions to her spending the evening in his company, but right in that moment he was the best bet of the three of them to carry out his word.

  She followed him into the pub by the main door, keeping close to his side. More partygoers had arrived, making the packed-out room a tight squeeze. Not that it mattered, with Les not drinking and her staying away from Martin who’d be propping up the bar. They only needed to find a corner and snuggle close together. Jenny told herself they’d just talk, but she knew he was looking to blow off steam after many bitter rows.

  The evening passed in a dream-like haze. Laughing at each other’s stories and Les teasing her gently, she almost forgot there were other people in the room. The caress of his fingertips along the outline of her face electrified her skin. With their heads close together, his lips brushed her ear when he spoke and then grazed her cheek. She almost leant in for a kiss, responding to his face pulling away from her just enough and his mouth turning towards hers.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jason said, “she likes a good snog.” His body flopped onto theirs like a fish abandoned on the water’s edge by the tide. He proceeded to wriggle about to create more of an effect, and it seemed like he’d succeeded.

  Jenny tried to push him off her lap to regain her personal space for what she thought was a clear case of jealousy but froze once her gaze alighted upon a figure forcing herself through the crowd in their direction. It was Nadine. She’d turned up after all, and her cold, hard, flinty eyes glared from her reddened face. Jason had saved her from having to fight off one of Nadine’s temper tantrums, but how on earth had he known?

  Jenny drew back from Les and slipped her arm around Jason’s waist, who was now sitting next to her. She pretended to have affection for him, something she hadn’t felt in months. Jason, on cue, followed her lead and placed his arm around her shoulders. He kissed her cheek tenderly before gently touching her chin and bringing her mouth up to meet his.

  The warmth of his kiss reminded her of their first one outside this very same pub, under the lamplight and watched by a sour-faced Emma behind the window. It stirred up emotions she hadn’t realised were there, ones she thought she’d long gotten over with the way he’d treated her. It was funny how the rose-tinted glasses came on the moment someone showed her the least bit of interest, and it was probably why she never saw the signs until something was terribly wrong.

  “Always knew you had a liking for girls.” Nadine dished out the cutting remark and snorted at her own joke. She wanted to see her enemy bleed, emotionally if not physically.

  Jason came to Jenny’s rescue with a perfectly timed response, but maybe not the words she would’ve said herself. “You have to get it where you can.” The broad smile on his face showed he thought he’d trumped Nadine, but all he’d done was add to the misery Jenny had been feeling for quite a while. She wasn’t getting it anywhere, and now it was being bandied about for a joke.

  “Looks like you have,” Nadine said, her lips curling into a sneer for what she must consider glorious revenge.

  Les stood and followed Nadine through the crowd towards the door, but not before giving Jenny a sneaky wink and an encouraging smile.

  Her knees weakened at his obvious flirtation with her. She checked herself, trying to get a grip on her situation.

  Don’t be stupid. There’s no future with him. He’s messing with you for his ego’s sake. Anyway, who’d want Nadine’s cast-offs, even if they’re built like the perfect man?

  “Stay away from him, he’s trouble.” Jason obviously thought the same thing, but then he was a bloke and had probably treated some unsuspecting woman badly, too.

  Jenny glanced at him, wondering if he knew Scott had said similar about him a few months ago.

  “Where is Scott? I’ve not seen him for a while.”

  Jason shrugged, like he didn’t want to say.

  “Tell me.”

  “He went after the dealer,” he said, “but only for some more grass, nothing else.”

  Jenny shook her head. Her ex-fiancé didn’t know when he was better off. One minute he was fighting with the man over missing payments and the next he wanted to increase his tab.

  “He’ll be back soon,” Jason said.

  He still had his arm around her shoulders. She felt cosy and special gazing into his warm blue eyes, and it led to another kiss. The thought of going home with him was enticing. Maybe they could pick up where they’d left off.

  “Who wants to party!”

  The voice over Jason’s shoulder was Riz—he’d seen them
getting intimate and clearly wanted to disrupt the progress. That’s what smug married men did, they enjoyed shaming their single friends.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I interrupting something?” He gave Jenny a knowing glance even though he had no idea who Jason was.

  She turned her face away, aware of her cheeks burning.

  Just what I don’t need, Riz telling everyone I’d been getting down and dirty with two different men.

  She let go of Jason and stood, leaning against the wall.

  “Who’s up for karaoke?” Riz asked.

  “I’ll have a go,” Jason said, following him back towards the bar.

  Jenny looked around her, feeling lost in the crowd. Her throat was parched—she’d not drunk anything since leaving the house. Maybe that’s where she should go, disappear quietly and sneak off home. No one would miss her. Jason was up on stage badly singing his heart out, and Scott had pushed off after his dealer. So much for a fun night out. Shame about Les, too, but that wasn’t a realistic situation, he was bound to get back with Nadine.

  She weaved between the throng to where Graham sat. He appeared to be asleep, propped up in his chair, in amongst all the noise and commotion. She gently lifted her coat from the seat next to him, slipped it on, and headed for the door.

  Outside, a cold gust of wind greeted her. Clouds were gathering overhead and gave the threat of much-needed rain. She wrapped her coat around her, clinging to the material as further gusts tried to remove it from her body. A brisk walk home was in order. She hoped she’d make it before the heavens dispensed their load.

  The streetlamps shone their muted light, giving a false sense of security to the unwary. Jenny hadn’t been out in the dark much since she’d been chased on the fateful night that nearly ended her life. The slightest noise had her jumping, and she was sure the local cats got a kick out of tormenting her.

  She whipped her head round to the sound of rustling from a nearby bush. She tried to be reasonable, brush it away as nothing important, but she couldn’t escape the feeling someone was watching her. Jenny shuddered, the movement cracking a gap at her collar and allowing cold air to seep down her back. One part of her wanted to go and see what the noise was, prove herself wrong and put her mind at rest, but something told her not to. A creeping unease slithered under her skin, caressing her nerves to attention.

  Maybe I should run.

  In less than a second Jenny freaked, adrenaline pumping through her veins, the thought of being grabbed too much to comprehend. She thought she might scream, her heart pounding so hard she was scared it’d break. Jenny’s feet slapped the pavement, echoing in the empty streets. She didn’t dare look behind her to see if she’d been right, she was too frightened to know.

  Reaching her garden, she lunged towards the front door, ready with the key in her hand. Something stopped her short. It was already ajar. Her breath caught; she didn’t know what to do. Surely Martin hadn’t left the pub and beaten her home? He’d mentioned the diaries, but if he wanted them he could’ve broken in anytime. The man still wasn’t back at work. The bad back he claimed to have didn’t stop him from propping up the bar or holding her arm in a vice-like grip she couldn’t get out of.

  Fear turned to anger that someone was trying to scare her again. She’d had enough of that last time, too scared to be outside and too frightened to be home. She resented being toyed with. Anger rising at the injustice of how she was treated, she decided to be brave and confront the intruder head-on. She was sick of turning to a man to solve all her problems. She was a fierce, independent woman and could sort her own issues herself.

  Jenny carefully pushed open the front door and entered the house like the cops did on the TV programmes. She scanned the hallway then proceeded to the living room, while making sure no one came in behind her. She eased her back against the wall before peeping around the doorframe and into the seating area. It was all as she’d left it. No intruders were standing anywhere in the room, so she advanced to the kitchen.

  The light was on, and the empty bottle she’d been drinking from was still on the worktop. Jenny crept to the knife block and slid out the largest knife. She gripped her palm around the cold metal hilt and inched towards the open back door. Grabbing the door handle, she banged it shut and turned the key in one smooth movement.

  Jenny exhaled, relieved her burning lungs released the air she hadn’t realised she’d held. Feeling safe again, she lay the knife next to the kettle and rummaged around in a cupboard for a long-discarded bottle of vodka. It wasn’t her drink of choice, but since all the wine was gone, beggars couldn’t be choosers. She poured out a measure and endured deep gulps of the clear liquid that ignited a path to her stomach. Her muscles relaxed. She leant against the worktop, her mind reverting to the events of the evening. Not the fight or the terrible way Martin had grabbed her arm, she was avoiding that for now, but about Les Mack. His gentle caress of her face and how he’d held his body against hers set her senses alight. How she wished Nadine hadn’t turned up at that moment. She wondered what would’ve happened by the end of the night.

  “What did you lock me out for?” Scott strode into the kitchen like he owned the place.

  Jenny jumped and almost dropped her glass. “Where did you come from?”

  “You left the front door open. Hardly safe, is it?”

  “You left it open first. I thought I had an intruder.”

  “That what the knife is for?” he asked, nodding toward the worktop. “Gonna stab me, were you?”

  Jenny didn’t know why they were having this conversation. It was her home, she paid the rent, and she hadn’t said he could break in whenever he liked. She was about to be furious until he said something she hadn’t considered.

  “Did you check upstairs?”

  She was gripped by fear again. Jenny licked her lips and then bit the lower one with her teeth. She’d been stupid, standing in the kitchen like all was fine. Anyone could be in the house, and here she was getting inebriated with the front door open.

  “I’ll go,” he said and left the room.

  Waiting where she was seemed to be the best course of action. She still had the knife by her side and would use it if she had to.

  Scott returned to the kitchen after a quick search. “Didn’t find anything.”

  Jenny blew out a breath. No one had been hiding. It was then she noticed the state of him. He was covered in muddy smears, grass stains, and bits of foliage along with the blood from his nose bleed earlier. “What happened to you, not another fight?”

  “What? No. I fell over, that’s all. Slid down a bank and nearly ended up in a river. Flipping cold, I was.”

  “You sure? You went looking for that dealer after you fought with him.”

  “Yeah, so? I wanted more weed. It’s not like I killed him or anything.”

  Jenny eyed him suspiciously. He’d fought with the bloke a few hours earlier, and it wouldn’t be unheard of for him to go back for another go. She shrugged from the stress the night had been. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “You can sleep on the couch.”

  She left the room, ascended the stairs, and entered the bathroom. Moments later the front door slammed shut. Jenny guessed he hadn’t wanted to stay over after all, not that she was bothered. A bit of peace was welcome after the night she’d had. Scott getting into more trouble was nothing to do with her. Killed him indeed. As if.

  Chapter Five

  Harvey lifted and placed each leg in turn through the gap in the picnic table, then sat facing his two mates with his refreshed pint. He liked a party, especially one of Dave’s, but it was easier to talk in the pub garden. Riz blasting his karaoke was enough to clear the room. Knowing him from work, the lads decided it was safer out in the cold night air where they could chat unhindered, even with the threat of rain.

  Harvey hadn’t seen Martin in a while. He shared an interest with him and Nick, but for very different reasons. Both men knew about Harvey’s love of exotic knives. He’d just returned fro
m a four-day trip to Vegas, something most people thought he was mad to do, but he wasn’t there for the gambling. He’d located a store that specialized in a particular knife he’d been searching for over the months. It was worth the trip and the risk of getting caught with it in his luggage, but even with detectors he’d found a way to conceal it. He’d yet to be stopped, but that appeared set to change with the sudden upswing in security of anyone crossing their border.

  “Did you get it?” Nick was eager to hear the latest details of his trip, or rather the purchase of said knife.

  “Yep, going to mount it on the wall with the rest,” Harvey said.

  He had a tradition of displaying his weapons, an idea he got from someone who collected BB guns and had them arranged in size order in his bedroom. They seemed like real guns to the untrained eye but were perfectly legal and left unloaded. Harvey’s collection couldn’t be seen in quite the same vein; one swipe with any of them could cause rather a nasty injury.

  “Let’s see a picture.” Martin leant over the table to get a good view.

  Harvey had no intention of inviting him round to his place for a proper look, because there was something about him Harvey didn’t like. Martin seemed obsessed with the thought of causing violence; it was something he’d picked up on from their chats in the past.

  Nick, on the other hand, was a welcome guest. His interest was purely factual. The man liked to know all sorts about anything and everything. He was great for a long story, especially about the things he’d done in his previous working life. He’d had national security clearance for a couple of his employments and had lived all over the world. So being a seasoned traveller was something else they had in common.

  Harvey pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and found the latest snaps. The first showed a picture of his conquest, the knife he’d just bought. The second was of the display wall and its future placement on it.

  Along with the sounds of appreciation, Nick noticed the discrepancy. “Why the gap?”

  “Well,” Harvey said, “I got back from Vegas to find someone had broken in. The door had been jimmied, breaking the lock, but they’d left it pulled to. I only saw it when I went to insert my key.”