Deadly Eleven

by Mark Tufo

  ‘Can’t believe you thought that was a head. You fuckin’ moron.’

  ‘Least I got close enough to look,’ Murray said. ‘I wasn’t the one hangin’ back ’cause I was too bloody scared.’

  ‘I wasn’t scared. Like I said, you’re bein’ paid for this, not me.’

  They were about to head back when something else caught Murray’s eye, an unexpected flash of colour. ‘Oh, fuck,’ he said. This time there was no doubt as to what it was they were seeing: the crimson was jarringly out of place against the greens and browns. His torch illuminated a crescent-shaped pool of blood in the leaf litter. And there was more of it... another patch a short distance up ahead, a series of intermittent drips forming a trail. Murray continued forward, Boyle turned around and went the other way. ‘Where the fuck are you goin’?’

  ‘Sorry, Murray, I can’t... I shouldn’t even be here. Sergeant Ross has it in for me as it is. If he catches me out here then... I’m sorry, man...’

  Boyle sprinted back to the security hut. Murray held his position on the edge of the forest, the dripping rain the only noise of any note, and waited a moment longer. He knew he didn’t have any choice but to investigate. As his so-called friend had so succinctly put it, this was what he was being paid to do, and although whatever had happened here was technically outside the fracking site, he knew how suspect it would seem if he got this far then stopped. In the distance he heard Boyle’s knacker of a car race away, blown exhaust echoing, tyres skidding on the gravel.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ he grumbled to himself.

  Deep breath.

  Murray followed the blood trail deeper into the trees.

  He found her in a patch of open space in the middle of the wood, lying on her side as if she was asleep. She was half-naked, a steady flow of still-warm blood running down the insides of her thighs, washing away in the rain. Porcelain flesh, hidden away through modesty for years but exposed for all to see now. Fawn anorak with blotting-paper blood stains. Steam snaked up from between her legs. She’d not been dead long.

  Chapter 51

  Scott decided they’d start their first full day in Thussock with a trip into town. Despite their instinctive protestations – more for effect than anything else, just making their feelings known – both girls agreed to come. Other than cleaning and unpacking, there wasn’t much else to do; the TV wasn’t set up yet, and they’d no Internet connection. Scott had promised to get it sorted in the week but Tammy didn’t know if she’d last that long. Less than twenty-four hours in and she was struggling with life offline. It felt like solitary confinement. The rest of the world continued to chat, message, share and update outside of her little bubble of disconnection, making her feel like she’d been blocked. Unfriended.

  Another bloody WELCOME TO THUSSOCK sign. They were taking the piss now, Tammy thought as they drove along the main road from the house into town. Scott pulled up outside a shed-like wooden bus-shelter. Michelle jumped out and checked the timetable for times and prices to school. ‘I think we’ll drive you in for the first week or so,’ she told them when she got back into the car. ‘Just until we’ve all got our bearings. The buses seem really infrequent. Don’t want you two being late or getting stranded.’

  ‘Oh, that’s too weird,’ Phoebe said unexpectedly.

  ‘What, the buses?’ Tammy asked, confused.

  ‘No... over there. See that house?’

  Tammy craned her neck and saw a bungalow with a pea-green front door and an over-fussy garden. It was nothing special. As unremarkable as the rest of Thussock. ‘What about it?’

  ‘Watch the woman.’

  All of them, George included, now watched as an obese woman waddled out from around the side of the small house. She was wearing a long and distinctly unflattering cerise summer dress which clung to all the wrong bulges. Her bleached hair was cropped short. ‘Don’t stare,’ Michelle warned, although she was as guilty as the rest of them.

  ‘What about her?’ Scott asked.

  ‘Just keep watching...’

  A car reversed out of a pre-fabricated garage adjacent to the bungalow. As the oversized woman in pink lowered herself into the passenger seat, an identically obese woman in blue got out and shut the garage door. ‘Identical twins,’ Michelle said. ‘That’s not weird.’

  ‘It is when you live together and you’re wearing the exact same outfits at their age.’

  ‘Don’t be so rude. I’m sure they’re both lovely.’

  The family watched, strangely spellbound, as the sisters pulled off their drive. The twin in the passenger seat saw them watching and gave them a nod of the head and a wave. ‘Phoebe’s right,’ Scott said when they’d gone. ‘That was weird.’

  They followed the car into town. The twins turned off when they reached a small church hall, barely noticeable tucked away in the middle of a row of houses.

  ‘Where exactly are we going?’ Tammy asked.

  ‘Thought we’d find your school first, then see if we can get some lunch,’ Scott told her.

  ‘Is it going to take long?’

  ‘As long as it takes. Stop moaning.’

  She slumped back in her seat. And this is what my life has been reduced to: driving to look at a school on a Sunday morning. Her friends Katie and Max had been planning to go to Merry Hill today, she remembered. Some shopping, then on to see that film they’d all been talking about last week. Most of her mates back home probably weren’t even awake yet, still sleeping off the effects of the night before.

  Thussock High School was a curious mix of the old and the very old; about eighty per cent decrepit to twenty per cent ancient, Tammy decided. School’s school, Scott had told them both, spouting bullshit as usual. Did he ever stop to listen to the crap he came out with? It’s not where you go, it’s what you do when you’re there that matters, he said. You make your own chances, that was one of his favourite nuggets of shite. Well, moving to Thussock would blow his theories out of the water, because Tammy knew beyond any doubt that the schooling here wasn’t going to be as good as she’d had back in Redditch. For a start, the course options were severely limited. She’d had to choose A levels she hadn’t really wanted, and she was already concerned that would have an impact on her university choices in a couple of years time. She decided it didn’t really matter what she went on to study at uni anymore. For Tammy, the further in further education now referred to the distance she could get from Thussock.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Phoebe asked, standing at the fence alongside her, both of them gripping the railings like prisoners.

  ‘Pretty grim. Matches the rest of this shitty town perfectly.’

  ‘It might be all right.’

  ‘It might not.’

  A long, straight road ran through the centre of a large grey playground, stretching from the gate, deep into the main hub of the school. It looked like it had been built in the sixties: all concrete grey and sharp corners; modular and geometric; ugly, out-dated and drab. There were four temporary classrooms at the far end of the playground, and it was clear from the weathering of the flimsy-looking buildings that they’d proved to be far less temporary than had originally been envisaged.

  Behind the bulk of the school buildings, visible in a gap between two blocks, they could see a more recently built leisure centre. Its cream, corrugated metal walls were a stark contrast to the rest of the campus. Tammy wondered if it had a fitness suite and a pool like the college she should have been starting at in Bromsgrove next week? She wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

  ‘We ready to make a move, ladies?’ Scott shouted from the car. They ambled back. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Starving,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘Then let’s go and see what we can find.’

  They left the car outside the Co-op supermarket, then walked the length of the high street. Scott and Michelle were at the front, Michelle pushing George in his buggy, while the two girls followed at a distance. Michelle looked back at them. ‘You two okay?’

 
‘Fine,’ they both answered, though the tone of their voices said otherwise.

  ‘Do you think they’re going to be all right?’ Michelle asked, turning back to talk to Scott.

  ‘They will be. It’s early days. Bit of a culture shock for them. Tammy’s just sulking as usual.’

  ‘Bit of a culture shock for all of us.’

  ‘It’s not that bad.’

  ‘I didn’t say it was. It’s going to be very different here, that’s all.’

  ‘You all need to keep open minds. If you go into things with a positive attitude, they’ll usually work out.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yes it is. That’s why I’m keen to get started on the house.’

  Scott stopped walking suddenly and looked around.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘That’s it, I think,’ he said. ‘I think we’ve done the entire place.’

  ‘We can’t have.’

  Tammy and Phoebe caught up. ‘Why have we stopped?’ Tammy asked.

  ‘Because we’ve reached the end of the road,’ Scott told her.

  ‘You can say that again.’

  ‘Didn’t see many places to eat,’ Michelle said.

  ‘There was the pub,’ Scott suggested.

  ‘Didn’t like the look of it.’

  ‘Or the name,’ Tammy interrupted. ‘Fancy calling a pub The Black Boy. Sounds racist. Sinister.’

  ‘There was a sheepdog on the sign,’ Phoebe said. ‘Probably named after a dog who saved a farmer, something like that.’

  ‘There was a chip shop back a way,’ Michelle said.

  ‘You can’t have chips for Sunday dinner,’ Phoebe protested. ‘It’s not right. When we’re with Dad, Nanny always cooks a roast dinner on Sunday.’ Her voice cracked with emotion, an unexpected twinge of sadness taking her by surprise. She wished she was there now.

  ‘Well you’re not at your nanny’s today, are you?’ Scott said, oblivious. ‘Looks like it’s chips or nothing.’

  ‘We could head back to the supermarket,’ Michelle said. ‘Get something to eat from there.’

  ‘Too cold for a picnic,’ Tammy said. ‘The sun’s gone in.’

  ‘Then we can just take stuff back to the house.’

  ‘What was the point of coming out then?’

  ‘Give it a rest, Tam. Stop being so bloody argumentative all the time. We wanted you to see the school.’

  ‘Why bother? We’ll see it tomorrow, anyway. We should have stayed at the house and saved all the effort.’

  ‘What effort?’ Scott said. ‘Haven’t seen anyone else putting any effort in. Come on, let’s go.’

  Phoebe wasn’t moving. ‘You said we were having a Sunday dinner.’

  ‘I know, but—’

  ‘But you said...’

  ‘What am I supposed to do? Just magic one up? Pull one out of my backside?’

  ‘You said...’

  Frustrated, Scott turned and started back towards the supermarket, walking at double pace. ‘I’ll get you your bloody dinner,’ he shouted. ‘Just stop being so bloody miserable.’

  He was halfway back to the supermarket before the rest of them moved. ‘I’ll go and see what he’s doing,’ Michelle said. ‘Make sure we get something decent to eat.’

  ‘Bloke’s an idiot,’ Tammy said.

  Michelle’s shoulders slumped. ‘Give it a rest, will you? I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place here. Scott’s trying, you know. This hasn’t been easy on him either.’

  ‘Maybe he should have tried a little earlier. If he had, maybe we wouldn’t have lost the house.’

  ‘Tam, don’t go there...’

  ‘But it’s true, Mum, you know it is.’

  ‘And going on about it isn’t going to help anyone. We are where we are.’

  ‘Will you stop saying that.’

  ‘Just deal with it. Both of you. Do me a favour and look after George. I’ll go and see what Scott’s up to.’

  End of conversation. Michelle handed George’s buggy to Phoebe then went into the supermarket.

  ‘She always does that,’ Tammy said.

  ‘Does what?’

  ‘Walks away when she doesn’t want to hear what someone’s saying. Does my head in.’

  The sisters sat down on the stone wall around the edge of the car park, their brother parked between them.

  ‘That school looked all right, actually,’ Phoebe said. Tammy just looked at her.

  ‘You serious? You must be off your head, Pheeb. It looked like a fucking hole, just like the rest of this dump of a place.’

  ‘It is Sunday though, Tam. Everywhere’s quiet on a Sunday.’

  ‘You all right, girls?’ an unexpected voice asked. They turned and saw a group of three lads and a girl standing on the other side of the wall. Two of the boys, Tammy quickly decided, were nothing special: all bad hair, cheap sports gear and exaggerated swagger. The one in the middle though, the tallest of the three, the only one who wasn’t smoking, was quite cute. But she’d already decided there was an insurmountable difference between a quite cute boy from Thussock and a quite cute boy from Redditch. These people were alien to her.

  ‘We’ve just moved here,’ Phoebe said and Tammy glared and shushed her. Too much information.

  ‘Never a good move,’ the smallest of the boys said, his T-shirt flapping against his willowy frame in the wind. He looked colder than he was letting on. He had a sharp nose and small eyes and looked like he was scowling. ‘Should’a stayed where you was. Fuck all happens here.’

  Tammy struggled to work out what it was he’d just said. His accent was so strong, so unfathomable, that she had to replay the sounds over in her head a couple of times before she could make out the individual words and un-jumble them. ‘We didn’t ask to come here,’ she said, not wanting to engage, but not wanting anyone to think she was here through choice either.

  The girl leant over the wall and peered down at George. ‘That your kid?’ she asked.

  ‘What do you think?’ Tammy said, sounding more aggressive than she’d intended.

  ‘Don’t know, that’s why I asked.’

  ‘No, he’s our brother.’

  ‘He’s cute,’ she said, apparently unperturbed. ‘I’m Heather.’

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘I’m Jamie,’ the tallest lad said, introducing himself. ‘This here’s Joel and Sean.’

  Tammy just nodded and grunted something that was hardly even a word. She turned back around to emphasise her disinterest and stared at the Co-op, hoping her mum would reappear and get them away from here. The automatic doors slid open and Scott emerged with a bulging carrier bag in either hand. For once she was relieved to see him. She could already sense the crowd behind her beginning to slope away, all cigarette smoke and put-on attitude. She glanced over her shoulder and made sure they’d gone.

  ‘Were they giving you any trouble?’ Scott asked.

  ‘No,’ she replied, indignant. Even if they were, she didn’t need his help to deal with them.

  Michelle watched the group disappear. She hated herself for sounding like such a snob, but she didn’t like the idea of her girls mixing with kids like that. And she knew that attitude was unfair and probably wholly unwarranted, but for now that was just how it was. She wondered if she’d have felt different if she’d seen the same kids in Redditch?

  ‘So what’s for dinner?’ Phoebe asked, more interested in her stomach than anything else.

  ‘All kinds of crap,’ Scott said. ‘Mostly junk food, stuff that’s really bad for you. That okay?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘That’s what I thought you’d say.’

  They walked back to the car which was parked all alone, numerous empty bays on either side. Michelle strapped George into his seat while Scott collapsed the buggy and loaded it into the boot with the shopping.

  ‘Wait up! ’Scuse me, sir!’

  Scott looked around and saw one of the Co-op staff running towards him, waving furiously, already out
of breath despite the relatively short distance he’d covered. He was in his late forties or early fifties, Scott thought, plump, and with a ruddy complexion and a shock of wild auburn hair which was just on the wrong side of being under control. He stopped short of Scott and stared at him with wide eyes, made to look even wider by the circular frames and magnifying lenses of his glasses. Scott was immediately on guard. He’d clocked this particular joker in the store, stacking shelves and collecting up trolleys and baskets with unnecessary enthusiasm.

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘There’s no problem.’

  The man, whose name was Graham according the name badge clipped onto his tie, just stood there.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Graham said, remembering why he was there. ‘You left your wallet in the shop.’ He handed it over. ‘Good job I was looking out for you, eh?’

  Scott instinctively checked his pockets, then took his wallet from Graham’s outstretched hand. He checked his bank cards and counted the notes at the back.

  ‘It’s all there,’ Graham said.

  ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ he said, and with that he was off again. He jogged back to the shop, suddenly veering off to the left to round up a rogue trolley he’d somehow missed when he’d last checked outside a few minutes earlier.

  ‘Thank you,’ Michelle shouted after him. Graham waved but didn’t look back.

  ‘Weirdo,’ Scott said.

  ‘That’s a bit harsh.’

  ‘Well, I mean... just look at him.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Bloke his age, collecting trolleys for a living.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on him, love. Looked to me like he’d got learning difficulties, something like that. Anyway, he’s working, and that’s got to be a good thing, hasn’t it? It’s more than either of us are doing at the moment.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? We only just got here. Haven’t started looking for work yet.’

  ‘I know. I wasn’t suggesting anything, I was just saying it’s good to see people like him getting on so well, that’s all.’