The Evil Within

by S M Hardy

  ‘Morning, Sam,’ Jed said, sticking out a meaty hand.

  The two men shook, and Tim sauntered off to serve another customer, leaving his father to it.

  ‘This here is Jim Hawkes,’ Jed said, ‘our newest arrival to Slyford. Jim, this is my old mate Sam.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jim.’

  ‘And you, Sam,’ I said, and we shook.

  ‘What can I do for you this fine morning?’ Sam asked.

  ‘New locks with deadbolts for front and back doors. One of them gas alarm gadgets if you have one and a couple of internal lockable door fittings.’

  Sam gave Jed an odd look but didn’t say anything other than to say he had all ‘them thar’ things in stock, before ambling away to find them for us.

  ‘Two internal door fittings?’ I asked out of the side of my mouth.

  ‘One for your bedroom, one for Emma’s.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  ‘You can never be too safe – not now anyhows.’

  I didn’t disagree. I was happy to have all the protection I could get and it made me feel not so stupid about the chair under the doorknob.

  ‘Here,’ Sam said, putting a couple of packets on the counter. ‘What sort of internal door fittings? Brass, chrome or bronze effect? Key or integral lock?’

  ‘Both brass and with keys,’ Jed replied. Sam gave a nod and trotted off again. ‘Oh, and could you let us have two matching bolts?’

  Sam hesitated mid step, but once again kept his thoughts to himself. He probably thought I was some really nervous townie who was scared shitless by every hoot of an owl or cry of an over amorous fox. The man in me felt embarrassed, the scared kid of the night before didn’t care.

  Sam returned with everything Jed had asked for, including the gas alarm, and put them on the counter. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘That’s it for the moment,’ Jed said, and I reached for my wallet. ‘One of them bolts and door fittings is down to me.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m more than happy to pay,’ I told him and counted out several twenty-pound notes as Sam rang the purchases up on a cash register that I could swear was the same as the one in Open All Hours; it certainly appeared to be out of the same batch.

  Jed leant over the counter and Sam, seeing he wanted to talk, moved closer. ‘Young Jim’s had a bit of trouble with intruders and so’s Emma.’

  Sam’s eyebrows bunched together. ‘Really?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Sam looked up at me. ‘Sorry to hear that.’

  ‘One of those things, I guess. The cottage is a bit isolated compared with the rest of the village.’

  ‘Where are you at?’

  ‘The Morgans’,’ Jed said before I could answer.

  The two men exchanged another of those looks. ‘Well,’ Sam said to me, ‘I hope these do the trick.’

  ‘I’m sure they will,’ I told him as I handed over the money, though I was equally sure they probably wouldn’t if the mysterious man was really that keen to do for me. Still, they would make me feel a little bit more secure.

  Sam bundled up our purchases, wrapping them in brown paper then popping them in a stiff, brown-paper carrier bag.

  ‘Tim wants them to do their small bit for saving the planet,’ Jed confided to me as we left the store. ‘It costs them a damn sight more for paper bags than plastic, but it’s made their little business popular with the local fishermen and conservationists.’

  We carried on up the high street and it soon became apparent Jed was a well-known face as several people we passed acknowledged him with a nod or a ‘good morning’.

  ‘They just know me by sight,’ he said when I commented on it.

  On the way back down the other side of the street Jed suggested we stop for a coffee. We’d paid for two hours and we’d spent less than a third of that, so I thought why not?

  Again, it was immediately apparent Jed was a known face. The woman behind the counter gave him a bright smile and hurried over with menus as he wedged himself into a corner seat by the window.

  ‘Morning, Jed, where’s Emma today?’

  ‘Back at The Grange. Lil, this here is Jim Hawkes, her new neighbour. I thought I’d show him around some of the local high life.’

  Lil patted him on the shoulder and laughed. ‘You are a one.’ She took a small notepad and a stub of a pencil from her pink overall pocket. ‘The usual?’

  ‘Just a coffee for me,’ he said, ‘and one of them chocolate cake things.’

  ‘One coffee and a chocolate muffin.’ She gave me a smile. ‘And how about you, Jim?’

  ‘The same, please.’

  She scribbled it down, taking back the unread menus and returned behind the counter to bustle about with white china cups, saucers and a stainless steel coffee machine that had so many knobs and dials that you probably needed a degree to work it.

  ‘What are we really doing here?’ I asked.

  ‘You needed some home security.’

  ‘But here?’

  ‘You also needed to get away from Slyford for a while.’

  ‘You know, if he does come from Chalfont the chances of us seeing him on the street are practically non-existent,’ I said.

  ‘Tell me – what else were you planning to do this morning?’

  He had a point. Before I had a chance to answer, the coffee and two fairly substantial chocolate muffins arrived with milk, sugar and the usual customer–proprietor associated chatter before she left us to get on with our mid-morning snack.

  Jed took a sip of his coffee and then began to peel back the corrugated paper cup from around the base of his cake.

  ‘I’d never have tried these if it weren’t for Emms,’ Jed said, breaking a piece off and popping it into his mouth.

  ‘You come to Chalfont with Emma often?’

  He swallowed the piece of muffin and took another sip of coffee. ‘Not very. I sometimes bring her over when she’s getting her hair done, if I need a haircut or something from Sam’s.’

  ‘Emma drives?’

  ‘Have to, living in Slyford. If you relied on the bus, you’d never leave the place.’

  ‘I did sort of get that impression from the estate agent.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not so bad. We’re a bit isolated during the winter, but we rarely get snow down this part of the country so it’s not often we can’t get in and out of the village, though last year was a bit of a challenge.’

  I took a bite out of my muffin and, as the rich cake melted on my tongue, I instantly got why Jed was so smitten.

  ‘Good, eh?’ he said with a grin.

  ‘God, it was worth coming just for this.’

  ‘I’ve tried ’em elsewhere but none are as good as the ones you get here.’

  I took a sip of coffee to wash it down. Why chocolate and coffee were such a fantastic mix I’d never know, but they definitely were.

  We sat in companionable silence, savouring the muffins and coffee until with a sigh I’d eaten the last crumb.

  ‘That was … great,’ I said, and Jed chuckled.

  ‘I sometimes tell Emms I’ve got to come over when she needs her hair done just so I can sit in here,’ he said.

  ‘I think I might have to start joining you,’ I said with a laugh.

  ‘Can I get you gents anything else?’ Lil asked as she cleared our plates.

  ‘As tempting as it is, I’d better not,’ I said.

  Lil dropped the bill on the table, and I took out my wallet.

  ‘I’ll get these,’ Jed said.

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it,’ I told him, ‘you paid for the parking and petrol.’

  Jed didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. He leant back in his chair and stared out onto the street. I saw him frown and looked out to follow his gaze. Julie Finch and her friend were walking along the pavement on the other side of the road. His expression became pained and then it was almost as though he was pushing any negative thoughts he might have been having away as he gave a little shake of his head, pulled himself
up straight in his seat and forced a small smile onto his face.

  ‘Do you think you’ll hear from her again?’ I asked.

  He gave me a sideways look. ‘Nah,’ he replied, ‘I made it clear I’d nothing else for her. The dead don’t usually hang around for long without good reason.’

  ‘Krystal and Peter Davies are.’

  His eyes met mine. ‘I said “without good reason”.’

  It was my turn to look out upon the street. ‘Why me? Why not you? You knew them.’

  ‘That’s probably why,’ he said. ‘You haven’t any emotional connection.’ He got to his feet. ‘Come on, let’s go for a walk.’

  I followed him out onto the street, and we carried on up towards the other end of the village and then down a small cul-de-sac. I could hear the children before I saw them.

  ‘This is where Krystal used to go to school,’ Jed said as we stopped outside the gates.

  Children in grey and red uniforms were running, jumping and skipping around in the playground. All little tykes of no more than six or seven.

  A whistle blew and a tall woman in a navy suit began ushering them inside. Some ran towards the school doors, others were more reluctant, dragging their feet, as my mother would have said. I knew the feeling − I’d hated school.

  Gradually the kids disappeared inside, leaving silence where only a few minutes before there had been excited shouting and laughter. I shivered as a feeling of melancholy swept over me and inexplicably tears pricked my eyes. I lifted my hand, pretending to pinch my nose, surreptitiously wiping away the tears. I glanced at Jed, he was staring straight ahead into the schoolyard.

  ‘Did he stand here? Did he stand right here in this spot watching her?’ he said. His face took on a ruddy look and I could see the pulse throbbing in his temple.

  ‘We’re assuming a lot,’ I told him. ‘We could be wrong. Her death could have been an accident.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’ he asked, still staring straight ahead. ‘Do you really believe that after all you’ve seen, after all that’s happened?’

  The vitriolic words of the unknown man poured into my head like scalding water, making me flinch. I didn’t feel his anger, but I didn’t need to, the words were enough.

  I sucked in breath and when I glanced at Jed he was watching me. ‘I guess not,’ he said.

  ‘But even you said it was impossible to pick up on the thoughts of the living.’

  ‘Maybe I was wrong. Maybe such strong messages of violence hang around with the victims of it. I don’t know,’ he said, stroking his beard. ‘I’d never have believed someone could physically change the way you did the other night.’

  We slowly trudged up the road away from the school and back onto the high street, both wrapped in our own thoughts. I wasn’t too sure about what Jed was thinking but mine were all over the place. I was a finance man. I believed in hard facts and figures. While Kat had watched scary supernatural films from between her fingers or behind a cushion, I just sat and laughed at the absurdity of it all.

  Laughing now? a little voice inside my head that sounded remarkably like Kat asked.

  I guess I wasn’t.

  I made an effort to look in the shop windows we passed, but I wasn’t really interested. I had too much other stuff going on. There were two charity shops: one for the aged, another for children suffering abroad. The quality of the items on display was surprisingly good – no old tat here in Chalfont. There was a pet shop that appeared to cater mainly for tropical fish and reptile lovers, and next door to it was a florist with an assortment of tubs containing sweet-smelling bunches of flowers outside on the pavement. Then, when we crossed the road and started on our way back towards the car park, we came across a toyshop.

  The window had already been decorated up for Halloween, with orange and black paper, cotton wool spiderwebs and various witches and demon masks and costumes. I stopped for a moment to admire the display; it was surprisingly good. They had even dressed dolls as ghouls, ghosts and witches, and someone had taken a felt tip to Barbie’s Ken, giving him a widow’s peak and adding a black silk cape to make him vampiric in appearance.

  I glanced along the street. Jed was only a few feet further on. He had been stopped by a short, rotund gentleman and they were chattering away like long-lost friends. My attention returned to the grisly display. Huge black rubber spiders with ruby eyes and long white fangs were scattered amongst the other toys, some menacing recumbent Barbies. Diamond-backed snakes meandered between trolls with multicoloured hair and boxes of Meccano.

  At the back of the display someone must have spent hours building a huge gothic castle from grey and black Lego − it even had turrets from which hung brightly coloured triangular flags.

  Jed was still chatting so I took a step closer to the window to peer at the posters forming the backdrop. Medieval, pale-skinned princesses petting green and gold scaled dragons, fairies dressed in black and purple riding dragonflies, a full-length photo of Maleficent in all her furious glory – someone had spent a great deal of time and thought when designing this display. Krystal would have loved it.

  The thought brought a lump to my throat. This was ridiculous. I went to stuff my hand in my pocket to try and find a tissue, but instead small, cool fingers wrapped themselves around mine. I focused out of the display and to my reflection. Her image wasn’t as solid as at Emma’s, but Krystal was there, one hand in mine, her other arm wrapped around the little dog pressed up against her chest.

  ‘Jim,’ I heard Jed say and my head jerked around. ‘You ready?’

  I gave a mute nod and looked back to the window, but she was gone, and for all the people in the street and Jed by my side, I felt terribly alone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  On the way back Jed drove us around a bit, his excuse being that he was showing me the local should-see places; really, I was pretty much sure it was more about killing time until we could stop off at the pub for some lunch. I wasn’t really in the mood, but since Jed was going to be fortifying the cottage against would-be attack I could hardly complain. As it happened, once I had a pint and a plate of pie and chips inside me I felt all the better for it.

  The post had been delivered while we’d been out. A plastic envelope with my redirected mail was waiting on the doormat. I dropped it on the hall table along with my door keys – I couldn’t imagine any of it would be important – and went and put the kettle on while Jed set out his tools and began taking out the front door locking mechanism.

  ‘Will the owners mind?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll tell the estate agent I recommended you changed them after having an intruder. The Morgans left me in charge of maintenance, so they won’t worry.’

  I supposed he knew what he was doing. I left him to it and took my bag of post into the kitchen. It was mostly bills, all paid monthly by direct debit, so nothing to be done. I left a thick white envelope emblazoned with my late employer’s logo until last as I couldn’t imagine it was good news.

  As it happened, I was wrong. My boss having stated on several occasions to anyone who cared to listen that I had, in his opinion, had a breakdown had worked in my favour. The company doctors had agreed and to avoid possibly getting involved in a lengthy lawsuit with me claiming for damages for all manner of things, they had finally worked out a figure for my golden handshake that made even me blink.

  If I had a mind to, I could probably buy the Morgans’ cottage straight out with money to spare. I spread the letter out on the table and read it again, and I couldn’t help chuckling to myself. Sir Peter must have dictated it through clenched teeth.

  On the downside, I would never again get employment in the finance industry and I guessed it might be difficult to get any sort of high-profile job at all after being tarnished with having suffered from a mental disorder of sorts, as unfair and wrong as that might be.

  It wasn’t something I was going to spend too much time worrying on for the moment. If need be, I could sell the house in London and the
proceeds from that along with my payout would keep me going until I’d worked out what I was going to do with myself. I folded the letter and tucked it back in the envelope, then set about making some coffee.

  Jed had already taken out the door lock, leaving pale wood and a hole, which I eyed with some trepidation. If he didn’t know what he was doing, the door wouldn’t even click shut, let alone lock. He didn’t appear worried as he finished drawing a line onto the wood and absently stuck the pencil stub behind his ear.

  I handed him a mug. ‘Is it a long job?’

  ‘Nah, I’ll be done before you know it.’ He took a slurp of his coffee. ‘Where do you want the gas detector?’

  ‘In the kitchen, I suppose.’

  He gave a distracted nod, still eyeing the hole in the door. ‘I’ll get that sorted, then the lock on your bedroom door.’

  ‘Thanks. What about Emma’s?’

  ‘I’ll pop around there on the way home.’ His eyebrows bunched together, his expression darkening.

  ‘Do you think he’ll try again?’ I asked, seeing the grim look at the mention of Emma.

  ‘He’d better not, cos if I get my hands on him …’ He gave a snort. ‘Whoever this fella is, he really shouldn’t have drawn Emms into all this.’

  He was right and I couldn’t see why he had. Other than to try and cause a rift between us, it was hardly worth the additional risk of discovery when, if his plan had worked, I’d have been blown to smithereens. Another mystery – my life was full of them at the moment.

  I left Jed to it as I doubted he wanted me peering over his shoulder.

  By half past three he was done. We celebrated with a pot of tea and a biscuit, and then he was gone – off to Emma’s.

  And once again I was alone.

  I’d never before been worried by my own company and, sometimes, when I’d been living with Kat, I’d been grateful for the times when she was off somewhere and I could spend some time by myself. Now I was beginning to loathe every lonely moment.

  Or was it more that I was scared?