Stalking Tender Prey

by Constantine, Storm

  ‘Perhaps we could have a séance with Daniel, too,’ Othman suggested.

  ‘Er, no!’ Daniel answered quickly.

  ‘Certainly not!’ Verity exclaimed, rather too loudly, and then in a softer tone. ‘Certainly not in this house, anyway.’

  ‘Certainly not anywhere,’ Daniel added. He looked Othman in the eye. ‘I’m not into that. Really.’

  Othman was studying him carefully, which made Daniel feel uncomfortable. ‘That’s OK. I understand. Still, I’d like to talk to you some time, if that’s all right.’

  Daniel looked desperately at Owen in appeal.

  Owen appeared slightly disapproving. ‘I’m very possessive of Daniel,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anyone else dabbling around with his talents.’

  ‘Aha,’ said Lily. ‘So this is what you two get up to. I did wonder!’

  ‘Daniel, is that true?’ Verity asked sharply. Surely he wouldn’t be so stupid?

  Daniel glanced at her. ‘Not really, no.’ He looked back at Owen. ‘Stop it. Please.’

  Owen blinked, shook his head. A signal. ‘It’s OK, Daniel.’ He turned to Louis, who had been silently observing the conversation. ‘Do you believe in any of this stuff?’

  Louis held Owen’s eyes for a moment. He wondered whether he’d been interpreting the sub-text to the recent exchanges correctly. ‘As a matter of fact, no,’ he said stiffly, pouring himself some more wine. ‘But whatever other people want to believe is up to them. I’m a sceptic, but I have an open mind. Silly not to, really.’

  ‘Absolutely!’ Othman agreed. ‘It’s the only possible way to think.’

  ‘Then you don’t mind Daniel being involved?’ Owen persisted.

  The boy was too bright, Louis thought wearily. ‘I.. I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘It’s all a bit beyond me. Something I’ve never thought about. Daniel’s always had a bit of an over-active imagination. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt...’

  ‘This is mad,’ said Daniel, unaware of how much he was enjoying the attention.

  ‘I agree,’ said Verity. ‘Daniel, you mustn’t mess around in things like that. It can be dangerous. Dad, tell him!’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Lily said. ‘They’re just winding us up.’ She pulled a face at her brother. ‘Aren’t you, O?’

  Owen put his head on one side, smiled in a charming manner. ‘Of course, sibling.’

  ‘I find it all very interesting,’ Barbara said, realising, too late, that Lily had effectively closed the subject.

  After the meal was finished, everyone moved back into the lounge, where Louis put on a compilation CD of ‘sixties rock music. The younger people found they had little to complain about, as much of it was fashionable again now. Lily asked to hear a Jefferson Airplane track, ‘White Rabbit’, and when it came on, slowly danced alone on the rug in front of the fire.

  ‘I’d join you,’ Louis said, then indicated his legs, ‘but alas...’

  ‘No matter,’ said Lily. She put down her glass on the mantelpiece and took Louis in her arms. ‘We can just sway.’

  Delighted laughter escaped Louis’ surprised lips. ‘Oh, oh... Er, yes.’

  Verity and Daniel exchanged an embarrassed glance.

  ‘Dance?’ said Othman to Verity.

  ‘OK.’ It was preferable to join in rather than witness her father lurching about on his own with the Winter girl. She stood up and proceeded to dance several feet apart from Othman. Discretely, she observed he was a good mover and put more effort into her own performance.

  Not to be left out, Barbara hauled Barney to his feet, who shuffled awkwardly to the unfamiliar music. She waved her arms about a lot.

  Owen went to sit next to Daniel on the sofa. ‘A home disco,’ he said. ‘How quaint.’

  ‘Don’t ask me to dance,’ Daniel answered. ‘Just don’t.’

  ‘It’s amazing how different people can be when you put them in an unfamiliar situation,’ Owen said. ‘Your sister, Lily, your dad, even old Barney bopping away there.’

  Daniel sighed and leaned his head back against the sofa, his knees drawn up to his chest. ‘What a night.’ He glanced at Owen. ‘What were you playing at in there. All this psychic stuff?’

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ Owen replied.

  Daniel felt uncomfortable. ‘It’s not something I’d want to cultivate. Sometimes I just say things or experience peculiar feelings, but nothing more than that. I don’t think I’m really psychic.’

  ‘You are, Daniel,’ Owen insisted. ‘It’s one of the things I like about you.’

  ‘Why are we talking about this now?’

  ‘Well things are just happening now, aren’t they. Haven’t you noticed?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I’m making decisions about things. Important decisions. Things are getting clearer now.’

  ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ Owen said. ‘I think an escape to your lair is in order soon. I have a ready rolled spliff in my pocket that’s itching to be smoked.’

  Daniel laughed. ‘Sounds appealing.’

  ‘But first I’ll have to walk Lily home.’

  Daniel paused before answering. Lily was still throwing herself around to the music. ‘She doesn’t look ready to go yet.’

  ‘So. We can wait.’

  Alcohol and music, an intoxicating combination. Lily said she wanted to dance all night, which reminded her of a song from the old musical, ‘My Fair Lady’. She asked Louis if he had the soundtrack. When he said he had, and found the CD, Lily and Barbara sang along to the words, joined by Barney and Louis.

  Verity and Othman sat down. Verity too was enjoying herself immensely. She hadn’t danced for years. ‘Tonight’s turned out very differently to how I expected,’ she said.

  ‘Better, I hope?’ Othman said.

  She nodded. ‘Much. The Winters aren’t quite what I thought they were.’

  ‘They certainly aren’t!’ Othman agreed.

  ‘Oh? And were you aware of what I thought of them? What’s that Owen been saying about me?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Othman said. ‘It was just a bit obvious.’

  ‘Oh dear!’ She glanced at Owen, who was still talking to Daniel on the sofa. ‘Still, I do wonder if he’s quite the right sort of friend for Daniel. There’s something very sinister about Owen Winter.’

  ‘You’re too protective.’

  ‘No I’m not,’ Verity protested. ‘I’m not protective at all!’

  ‘Perhaps we could go for a drink one evening,’ Othman said.

  Verity smiled at him. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘You and I, and Owen and Lily. We could drive out somewhere.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Perhaps.’ That wasn’t quite what Verity would have preferred.

  The party broke up about one o’clock, when it became obvious Lily was rather the worse for wear. One moment she was prancing around with Barbara on the hearth rug, the next she had flopped down next to Owen on the sofa with the slurred announcement. ‘I need my bed. I’m going home.’ She tried to stand up and fell back down again.

  ‘I’ll take you,’ Owen said.

  ‘‘S’only across the road,’ Lily said, flapping a hand at him.

  ‘I’ll take you. Shut up.’ Owen hoisted her to her feet, and retrieved her shawl, which was draped over a chair.

  The others seemed to take this as a cue, and began to say their goodbyes. Daniel went with Lily and Owen to the door. ‘We didn’t get to have our smoke. Oh well, never mind.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Owen said. ‘I’ll be back in a bit. Just let me lay this drunken floozy out on her bed.’

  ‘It’s late,’ Daniel said. ‘I have to be up in the morning.’

  ‘So skive off for a day. I doubt your Dad and Verity will be up early by the look of them.’

  ‘Bed!’ yelled Lily. ‘O, I feel funny.’

  ‘Wait up,’ said Owen to Daniel, as he began to drag Lily down the drive.

  ‘Back door,’ Daniel answered in a low voice. ‘Lock it
after you.’

  The Eagers stumbled past him, cheerily repeating farewells, Othman following more sober in their wake. Verity came to stand beside Daniel on the doorstep, hugging her bare arms against the night chill.

  ‘See you soon,’ Othman said, following the Eagers down the drive.

  ‘Bye!’ Louis yelled from behind his children.

  ‘Dad, you’re drunk!’ Verity said. ‘Get back inside. I’ll make us all a coffee.’

  Louis grabbed his daughter, ignored her protests and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you for giving us a wonderful evening!’

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ Verity said, but she was smiling.

  Daniel and Verity left Louis in the lounge and went out to the kitchen, Verity to make coffee. She wasn’t sure why Daniel trailed her. ‘Daniel, those trousers!’ she said, shaking her head as she put the kettle on. ‘You really are the limit sometimes. I can see your backside through the holes!’

  ‘How was I to know everyone was dressing up?’ Daniel said. He went to the window and looked out. He hoped he didn’t appear nervous.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Verity asked sharply.

  Daniel could tell she was still quietly discomfited by the earlier talk of psychic matters. He looked round. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You looked out there like there was... something out there,’ Verity said.

  Daniel laughed. ‘Don’t get spooked. Owen was winding everyone up earlier. I’m not that psychic really.’

  ‘That’s a relief.’ Verity spooned coffee into the cafetiere. ‘Ghosts scare me.’

  ‘Me too.’ Daniel continued to stare out of the window.

  Raven meowed unexpectedly. Verity jumped. The cat had been asleep on one of the kitchen chairs. Daniel hadn’t noticed him. ‘Oh, do you want some milk?’ Her voice sounded too loud. Raven chirruped obligingly.

  ‘Vez...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What do you think of Owen?’

  Verity went to the fridge. ‘Daniel, you know what I think of Owen. Why is my opinion important all of a sudden?’

  ‘I just thought you seemed to get on better tonight.’

  Verity sighed. ‘Well, I suppose he was on his best behaviour. His sister seems pleasant enough, though a bit dizzy.’ It appeared the drink had made her feel charitable. She bent to pour milk into Raven’s dish, and as she stood up, she went rigid and uttered a stifled scream. Daniel caught sight of a looming, pale shape beyond the kitchen window and hurried to open the back door. Owen Winter came into the kitchen.

  ‘Jesus!’ Verity said. ‘You scared the hell out of me!’

  Owen appeared surprised to see her there. ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘What are you doing back here?’

  ‘We’re going upstairs,’ Daniel said. He was sure he must look agonised.

  ‘Oh, I see. Sneaking your friends in after bedtime. Daniel, what about school in the morning?’

  ‘Thanks, Vez.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got to get up.’ Daniel could tell Verity felt uncomfortable beneath Owen’s silent scrutiny. But what could she do? Order him out?

  ‘We’ll be quiet,’ Owen said. ‘I just want to borrow some CDs. Won’t be long.’

  ‘You should have done that earlier.’ The kettle clicked off. Verity poured water into the cafetiere, placed it on the waiting tray. It was clear she was not going to offer Owen coffee, or let him feel too at home. ‘Well, just don’t be too long.’

  While she sat with her father in the lounge, sipping the coffee and listening to him ramble on about when he used to dance the night away as a young man, Verity heard the front door slam. Good riddance, she thought, comforted.

  Outside the lounge door, Daniel tiptoed back up the stairs, to his private rooms, where Owen was lounging on the bed, smoking the joint. He closed the door, and Owen said, ‘Lock it. We don’t want frosty-knickers sneaking in here.’

  ‘She won’t, she never comes up here,’ Daniel said, but he locked the door. ‘She’ll think you’ve gone now.’ He would have to wait until he was sure Verity was asleep before he attempted to smuggle Owen out. Exactly how long would Owen stay? Daniel was glad to have him there, but worried about what Verity would think if she found out.

  ‘They treat you like a kid,’ Owen said. ‘Here.’ He offered the joint.

  Daniel took it and sat down on the bed. ‘I know. They always will until I move out.’

  Owen lay back and closed his eyes. ‘Can I stay here tonight?’

  ‘You only live across the road!’

  ‘Oh, do I? I forgot.’

  ‘You just want to cause trouble for me, don’t you?’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ Owen opened his eyes.

  Daniel passed the joint back. He was aware of the shift in the atmosphere, and his heart began to race. Was this what he thought it was? If so, what did he do about it? Ever since he’d first met Owen he’d been waiting for something to happen. The things they had done together at the High Place with the others had been just a preamble. Inevitably, it all led to this. Daniel and Owen alone at night, after an evening’s drinking, and Owen saying he wanted to stay. That’s what Daniel had been waiting for. The request. Can I stay? It had had to come from Owen. So many times the opportunity had been there, but the question had never come.

  ‘I don’t know what I think,’ Daniel said carefully. ‘Why do you want to stay here?’

  Owen might answer he was too tired, or too drunk, to stagger home. He might make some other facetious reply. He took a long drag off the joint. ‘This might come as an unwelcome shock, but I want to stay because I want to sleep with you.’ He exhaled slowly, waiting.

  Daniel said nothing, looking at his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

  ‘Tell me to get out, then,’ Owen said.

  Daniel shrugged. ‘I just feel like my brain’s melted.’ He shook his head. ‘God!’ The silence stretched out, moment upon tense moment. Owen took another draw off the joint and stared at the ceiling. Soon, Daniel felt, he would get up and walk out. What then?

  Daniel uttered a strangled cry and threw himself against Owen’s side. Owen coughed. ‘Ouch!’ But he put his arm round Daniel’s body, loosely.

  Daniel felt it would be better if he kept his eyes shut tight, so he wouldn’t have to think about what he was doing, the implications of it, or whether he wanted it or not. If he just kept his eyes shut tight...

  Owen rolled him onto his back. Daniel could hear him laughing. He felt Owen’s lips brush his own. ‘I take it this means yes,’ Owen said.

  To Othman, it was like a fine brandy, a perfect Armagnac, rolled around the tongue. Such fiery, yet delicate flavours! The garden of Low Mede was ancient, timeless. Hanging there, a ragged shadow some inches above the ground, hidden among the old-fashioned shrubs, the ecstatic bouquets of flowers rooted in the earth, Othman enjoyed vicariously the pleasures of the flesh. Hadn’t he primed Owen for this? Yes. Owen, innocent sibling, unaware of his latent abilities. The Cranton boy too, a power-house, a receiver and transmitter, long unused. It should have been dragged out of him and used while he was still suckling the breast.

  A dim light shone in the attic room, but no shadows moved across it. Othman could tell that Daniel thought Owen was skilled and experienced. Othman knew Owen was not. Lily was his only lover, his only testing ground. Owen was scared and exhilarated, aware of the fragile nature of Daniel’s offering of love. They were incapable of sex, as such, but were learning the communion, the special language of fingers, sensitive against flesh. They kissed, and were afraid to stop, because then they might have to do something else. Othman floated in the waves of their timid passion. It was like a drug to him. They were oblivious of his presence lapping up the etheric cream seeping from their souls. The only acceptable sustenance. Blood, flesh: what were these? Coarse, brutish victuals, the things that dogs ate. With his more refined palate, Peverel Othman could only imbibe a more subtle sustenance.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thursday 22nd October: Little Moor

&nb
sp; While Owen Winter timidly made love to her brother in the attic room, Verity Cranton lay in her single bed, dreaming. She dreamed she was lying in her bed, with the curtains open and moonlight was falling into the room, across the floor in bars and coins of white radiance. She felt warm and cosy, utterly secure, and could hear the heating system humming, the slow tick of the clock downstairs in the hall. She was thinking about the evening, the dinner party’s success, and how, for once, she had genuinely enjoyed other people’s company. It had been so long since she had socialised like that. Not since she’d fled the flat, and Netty’s tears, Netty’s hurt, accusing eyes. She wondered how she’d been seduced into it now. Her resolutions had been strong. She had designed a new life for herself, a new persona. The severe creature she had become scorned the company of others, the taking of alcohol in excess. It could lead to unpleasant things.

  In her dream, Verity turned on her side in the bed, one hand beneath her cheek. She did not feel at all sleepy. Where was Raven? He had taken to sleeping across her feet, but she could not feel the pressure of his body now. She leaned over the side of the bed to see whether the cat was asleep on the rug. There was his great, black shape curled up. She called his named softly, patted the duvet. ‘Raven, come on. Here...’

  She saw the large head lift, his eyes open, enormous and colourless, but glowing. She held out her hand, a ghostly shape in the darkness. Best not to think of disembodied hands. They might belong to a disembodied voice. ‘Raven... Raven...’

  Slowly the cat began to stretch out his paws. His mouth opened wide in a yawn. He began to move towards her. How enormous his jetty shadow looked, flowing across the rug. He was a magnificent animal. His shadow, rather than his body, seemed to spill onto her bed, and she reached out to stroke his silken fur. She could feel the powerful muscles beneath the skin. How deceptive was a cat’s skin. It seemed delicate, easily torn, yet she knew it could withstand greater heat or more intense cold than any human integument. It was tougher too, harder to break. Raven began to purr. He was so heavy. Verity closed her eyes and grabbed hold of the cat, pulling him towards her. In bed, he allowed her to hug him. It was strange, how he’d tolerate greater intimacy with her in the privacy of her bedroom. Downstairs, every corner of his body was off-limits, but for his broad head.