by Sam West
“Ay. Hanow and the surrounding area is a dead spot for your there mobile telephones.”
“Do you have a phone we could borrow?” Craig asked the old man.
“No. Tree fell down on one of them telephone wires over by the old main road few days ago.”
Craig’s mouth was suddenly dry. “Does anyone here have a working phone?”
“No son, I told you, phone line’s dead. Besides, ain’t no one that lives in Hanow now ‘cept me and my family.”
“I do not believe this shit,” Beth said.
She actually stamped her foot and there were tears in her eyes.
Margaret burst backwards through a door by the side of the bar. She was holding a big tray piled high with sandwiches. Craig caught a glimpse of an old, grubby looking kitchen, then the door swung shut again.
Christ, he thought, I really don’t want to eat anything that comes out of that kitchen…
“Lunch,” she said brightly, placing the tray of sandwiches in front of Craig.
The others came back over to their seats. No one looked too thrilled to see lunch, despite a collective ravenous appetite.
Beth was the first to speak.
“So what are we going to do?”
Craig was painfully aware of Margaret and the old man who had edged closer.
A bit of privacy right about now would be nice, he thought.
“We could walk back to the main road,” Craig suggested. “It can’t be more than a few miles and I’m sure we’ll pick up a signal before we even hit the main road.”
“It’s five miles to the main road. But it will be at least that before you get a signal on your mobile telephones. Here’s a dead spot,” Margaret said.
“Ay, it’s a dead spot alright,” the old man intoned.
Craig bit down a wave of irritation.
“I’m not walking five more bloody miles. And it’ll be dark soon.” Beth said.
“You’re right there young lady,” Margaret agreed. “Ain’t really nothing but a dirt track leading out of Hanow. Gets dark as a dog’s guts at night.”
“Ay. You wouldn’t see jack shit out there.”
“Do you perhaps have a torch we could borrow for the walk?” Tim asked the old man.
“I am not walking anywhere more today. You can go alone and order a taxi to pick the rest of us up,” Beth said.
“Hold your horses, young lady, I was gonna offer you folks a lift to the main road seeing as y’all so keen to leave. But I hope ya alls understand that you’re more than welcome to stay with us tonight.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Jessie said to the old man, “and we appreciate it, but we really have to be getting back. We’re going home tomorrow and we don’t want to miss our train.”
That was a barefaced lie, but the three of them kept a poker face, even Beth.
Looks like none of us want to stay here tonight, Craig thought.
The old man nodded gravely. “I can only transport two of you’s. I have a two seater Land Rover so I only got the room for two.”
“Thank you so much,” Jessie gushed, “that’s awfully kind of you. We can pay you for your trouble.”
“Ain’t no trouble young lady. If you really want to pay us then you can start off by eating those sandwiches my son-in-law has so kindly prepared for yous.”
Jessie flushed. “Of course,” she said, picking one up.
She took a bite and everyone watched her. Those sandwiches didn’t look at all appetising. At first glance they were a pile of ordinary, white sliced bread cut into triangles.
But on closer inspection, the bread had a greyish tinge and looked stale. And God only knew what the filling was, Craig’s stomach turned just looking at it. It looked like ham, except it was too thick to be ham.
Jessie’s face said it all. Even the most polite out of their group was having difficulty swallowing.
“What meat is this?” she asked.
Margaret and her father exchanged a look.
“Pork,” they said in unison.
Jessie took a big gulp of orange juice. “Lovely.”
“Come on,” the old man said, clapping his hands together and sitting down on the long bench to Craig’s left. “Tuck in. You have to eat something before I give the two of yous a lift.”
So they each took a sandwich. Craig figured they all wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
Tentatively, he took a bite. It didn’t taste as bad as it looked. The meat was a bit chewy, and pungent somehow, but not altogether unpleasant. He certainly had never tasted pork like it.
“Margaret, get these fine people another drink. On the house.”
“No, really, there’s no need for that…” Jessie began, then gave up when Margaret went behind the bar.
Craig wasn’t about to protest too much. He’d drained his pint and another wouldn’t go amiss.
Hell, he thought. He might as well get pissed.
“So tell me a bit about yourselves,” the old man said. “My name’s Barry, but everybody calls me Bish.”
Now that he was sat next to him, Craig noticed that he smelled a bit funny. It wasn’t something that he could put his finger on, and it was only faint. But it was sweet and rank, reminding him of the smell of shit lingering in the bathroom. Perhaps it was just the odour of old age. Maybe the old guy hadn’t wiped his arse properly.
Discretely he shuffled closer to Beth.
Tim was the one that introduced them all.
“So what do you do, Tim?” Bish asked.
“I’m a university student. We’re all third year university students. Well, apart from Beth, that is.”
“And what do you do, young lady?”
“I’m an actress and model,” she said.
Code for barmaid and waitress, Craig silently added. Unless you count going to endless auditions and getting fuck-all-nowhere at the end of them.
“Now I can say I’ve met a real life model and actress. What are you folks studying?”
“I’m reading Law,” Tim said.
“Training to be a primary school teacher,” Jessie said.
“Reading English Lit,” Craig said.
“Yowzer. We’ve got us a real bunch of bright young sparks here, ain’t we Margaret?”
“Ay, that we have, Dad.” she said, placing their drinks in front of them.
“How did y’alls meet?”
“Halls of residence,” Jessie said, “the three of us just clicked so we rented a house together in the second year, along with a couple of others.”
And that’s when my best friend hooked up with the girl I was in love with. It should’ve been me, Craig thought miserably. And that’s how much I love her. Even when I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere with the local weirdos I still think about how much I love her…
“How old are y’alls, if you don’t mind me askin’?”
Bish’s question struck Craig as odd. Why on earth would he want to know that? Then he figured he was just worried about them being underage. All pubs nowadays abided by that ‘think 25’ policy. Craig never set foot inside a pub without his driver’s license.
“Don’t worry, we’re all old enough to drink,” Tim said, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Craig. “We’re twenty one. Would you like to see our ID?”
“Don’t worry son, I was just checkin’. Can’t be too careful nowadays.”
“The under twenty fives are so much fresher,” Margaret said.
Fresher? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Craig thought.
Craig picked up on the warning look Bish threw her.
“Ay Margaret, tis nice indeed to have some young blood around, liven the place up a bit.”
The four of them sat there in awkward silence, which was eventually broken by Bish.
“Well, it will be dark in less than half an hour, would a couple of you fine folk care for that lift to the main road now?”
Tim got to his feet while the old man was still speakin
g. “Sounds good to me. Does anyone want to come?”
Craig wished that Beth would volunteer so he could be alone with Jessie but he guessed there was more chance of hell freezing over.
“I’ll come,” Jessie said.
“No, I think I should go,” Craig said. “It will get cold when the sun goes down, you girls should stay here. You must be shattered,” he said to Jessie.
“No more than you,” she replied. “Tim?”
Tim looked from one to the other. “Craig’s right. C’mon mate, let’s go call us a taxi.”
The two lads followed Bish out of the room. Craig saw the shadow that passed over Jessie’s face that her boyfriend had chosen him over her. He felt a pang of guilt when it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps she was a little disturbed by these people and didn’t want to be separated from her boyfriend.
Oh well, they’d be back in no time and then they could be on their merry way.
The three men stepped outside as the sky was beginning to darken.
CHAPTER TWO.
Jessie watched the departing figure of her boyfriend, tears dangerously close.
She might be sitting there outwardly calm and relaxed, but inside she was frightened by these people. She felt a sudden flash of anger at Tim for leaving her. He should know her by now, hell, they’d been an item for almost two years and they shared a house. He should be able to sense when she was upset and anxious.
But apparently not.
“Just us girlies left,” Margaret said, the woman that was seriously creeping her out.
“Yes,” Jessie said brightly.
“Would you girlies care for another drink?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Beth said.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Jessie said to her.
“Who are you, my mother? We’re on holiday, remember?”
Stupid girl, she thought angrily. How could Beth not pick up on their weirdness? Wasn’t she at all scared? She wanted to tell her to stop drinking, that she needed to keep her wits about her, but of course she couldn’t with creepy Margaret latched on to them like a leech.
God only knew what Craig saw in her. OK, so she was pretty, but she didn’t have Craig pegged as that shallow.
Well, maybe a little bit shallow. Not like her Tim.
Her heart fluttered when she thought of her boyfriend. Even thought he was gorgeous he had no ego. He was as tall, dark and handsome as they came, his smile wide, bright and easy. But that wasn’t why she loved him. She loved him because he was a good person.
“Dear?” Margaret asked her, dragging her mind away from her absent boyfriend. “Don’t you want something a little stronger this time?”
“No, I’m good, thanks. I’m dehydrated after that long hike.”
Beth rolled her eyes.
“As you wish. You might wish you’d had a drink later though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she blurted out unthinkingly, forgetting to keep her cool.
“Mean? Why, it doesn’t mean anything, dear.”
The door by the side of the bar leading to the kitchen burst open, making both girls jump.
Jessie could only stare at the newcomer in wide-eyed disbelief. He was huge. He was so tall his bald head almost touched the low, beamed ceiling, and he was wide with it. He was fat, but that certainly didn’t mean soft and squidgy. It meant shaped like a barrel. He was wearing a white, sleeveless t-shirt and a knee length, white apron.
A blood splattered apron.
“Girls, I’d like you to meet my husband Michael.”
Jessie glanced nervously over at Beth and saw she looked close to passing out.
“Hello Michael,” she said smoothly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for the lovely sandwiches.”
Margaret laughed, and walked back behind the bar.
“I was just getting the girlies a little drinky poo. Would you like one dear?”
The man mountain nodded and grunted.
“Michael is a man of few words, aren’t you dear?”
He didn’t answer, but stared at Jessie and Beth like he’d never seen tourists before.
Yet alone a human being.
Oh my God, he looks so wrong. That bulging forehead, those tiny eyes…
Margaret laughed. Her eye sparkled as she held Beth’s glass under the vodka optic.
The bitch is really enjoying this. Oh God Tim, please hurry up.
“Don’t look so worried girlies, Michael can’t help the way he looks. And you’ll have to excuse his attire, he’s been butchering some meat in the kitchen, haven’t you dear?”
Yet again, he grunted. He leaned against the bar and knocked back the pint his wife had poured for him in one fell swoop.
When Jessie looked over at Beth she looked white with terror, despite the tan. Jessie had no idea what was going on here, but she did know that if Beth freaked out, then it would make things one hundred times worse.
She kicked her shin under the table to draw her attention, and ever so faintly and sharply shook her head.
Don’t you fucking dare freak out on me, she tried to say with her eyes.
“So,” Jessie said breezily as if she wasn’t scared enough to shit her pants, “is it really just you and your family that live here? We only saw the three houses on our way in. And your pub of course. It seems awfully small to be called a village.”
“Size isn’t everything dear,” Margaret replied, a hard glint in her eyes that made Jessie desperately uncomfortable.
“I didn’t mean to cause offense, I just thought a village had to consist of more than just one family to be called a village…”
Her words trailed off, her mouth suddenly dry. The strange man in the blood splattered apron just stood there, staring at them.
“Used to be more people that lived here, many, many years ago. But houses fall and people leave. It’s still a village though. It’s my home, and I love living here.”
“I’m sure you do, it’s very beautiful. I would love one day to live somewhere like this, I couldn’t possibly imagine spending the rest of my life in London, it’s so overcrowded and polluted and noisy and expensive and…” I’m rambling, I have to keep calm… “It’s so beautiful here,” she finished lamely.
“I’m glad you like it here dear, we’re very proud of our little village, aren’t we Michael?”
Michael grunted.
“In fact,” she continued, “we’re so proud of it, we will do anything to preserve it.”
Jessie’s heart picked up its beat at twice normal speed. She didn’t like this inexplicably terrifying turn in the conversation.
No, she didn’t like it one bit.
“Would you mind pointing us in the direction of the toilets?” Jessie asked in a remarkably steady voice, getting to her feet.
Beth stood up too. Jessie noticed her hands were shaking.
The two girls stepped over their respective benches, meeting up at the end of the table to stand together.
“Yes,” Margaret said simply.
Michael watched them the entire time from the bar. Jessie noticed that his tiny little eyes mainly homed in on Beth.
Ever so gently Jessie placed a hand on the shorter girl’s stiff shoulder.
“So where are the toilets?” Jessie asked again.
“I answered your question dear. I said yes, I do mind pointing you in the direction of the toilets.”
“What is this shit?” Beth said, speaking up for the first time since the boys had left them. “You’re a bunch of fucking weirdos!”
“Beth!” Jessie hissed, digging her fingers into her upper arm, “that’s really not helping.” Then, turning her attention back to Margaret: “We just want to use the bathroom.”
“Piss on the floor, dear.”
“Fuck you,” Beth said, shaking off Jessie’s hand and heading for the door.
Jessie watched what happened next in wide eyed horror. Michael pounced from the bar with a speed that completely bel
ied his bulky frame and overtook the frightened girl.
He stood blocking the exit, his arms folded across his massive chest like a demented, blood splattered, nightclub bouncer.
Oh Jesus, Jessie thought. This is bad. This is really, really bad…
She opted for a last ditch attempt at pretending everything was normal and went over to join Beth. Beth jumped when Jessie came up behind her, then she kind of leaned against her.
“Could you let us pass, please? We’ll wait for the boys outside.”
“Oh, you won’t be seeing those boys of yours again, dear.”
“Let us go,” Beth wailed.
Beth was sobbing quietly, the tears falling freely.
It took all of Jessie’s willpower not to join in. She couldn’t go breaking down now. She had to keep a clear head, there had to be a way to get them to let them go.
“I told you girls to piss on the floor.”
Jessie simply could not believe what she was hearing. She could feel Beth trembling next to her and she placed a comforting hand on her arm.
“OK, you’ve had your fun, but we’d like you to stop now.”
“We haven’t even started with the fun, but we will, don’t you worry. You girls said you needed to urinate, so I’m giving you both the go ahead to relieve yourselves. Michael, I think they need a hand.”
Michael lunged forward and grabbed Beth. Both girls screamed.
Jessie watched in mounting horror when he lifted her into the air and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Beth screamed and beat her wrists against his back and kicked her legs.
It had no effect on the man whatsoever. A meaty arm pinned her to his chest just above her knees and his other hand reached across to hold her down by the small of her back.
The hand on the back of the squirming, crying girl roamed lower to knead her shapely backside through her jeans.
“Let her go!” Jessie screamed.
In that moment she wasn’t scared. She was mad. How dare these bastards treat them like this?
She charged at the man, throwing herself against him. He didn’t even stagger. Instead he swatted her away like she was nothing more than a fly. His huge arm smacked into the side of her head, knocking her onto her rump with a sickening thunk. Bright lights flashed before her eyes and her stomach clenched around the nasty sandwiches. Her ears rang and her tongue floated in a pool of mouth water. She closed her eyes for a second, forcing the bad sensations away.