Smith

by stewartgiles

  SEVENTY FIVE

  FISH AND CHIPS

  “I really appreciate this Dave,” Whitton looked at his reflection in the mirror.

  They had just passed Scarborough and were travelling north up the coast to Whitby.

  “It’s no problem Miss Whitton,” Dave said, “I haven’t seen the sea in a very long time.”

  “You must let me pay something for your time though.”

  “Really, it’s my pleasure,” Dave smiled. “What time is the wedding?”

  Whitton looked at her watch.

  “I have two hours,” she said.

  “I need to put in petrol,” Dave said, “I think there’s a petrol station just up ahead. I’m thirsty too; I didn’t bring anything to drink.”

  “The petrol and the drinks are on me then,” Whitton said, “I insist.”

  While Dave put in the petrol, Whitton went into the shop and bought two bottles of water. She waited for him to fill up and paid for the petrol as well. She was surprised that it came to so little; Dave had only put in five litres. They set off again. About two miles further up the road Whitton was sure she could hear a flapping sound coming from the right hand side of the car.

  “What’s that noise?” she said.

  Dave opened his window and looked out.

  “Oh no,” he said, “Flat tyre. I’m going to have to change it. It looks like there’s a dirt road just up ahead.”

  He pulled over onto the dirt road and stopped the car. He looked around; there did not seem to be many people around. He got out of the car and walked to the boot. Whitton also got out. She crouched down and examined the flat tyre. Something did not seem right; the valve cap was missing and there was something sticking out of the valve. It looked like a broken matchstick.

  “Just enough to let the air out slowly,” Dave said, “just enough to get us this far anyway.”

  Whitton was confused. It was then that she saw the gun.

  “Do you know how to change a wheel?” Dave asked.

  “Of course,” she replied, “what’s going on Dave?”

  He threw the car jack on the ground next to her.

  “The spare wheel is in the boot,” he said, “get it.”

  “I don’t understand.” Whitton was getting scared.

  “It would have been Vera Mae’s birthday today,” Dave said, “Valentines Day. We used to come along this road quite often. Vera Mae liked the sea. Sea, sunshine and fish and chips out of a newspaper. She loved that.”

  Whitton stood up.

  “Don’t try anything stupid,” Dave ordered.

  He pointed the gun at her.

  “I’m tired,” he said, “and I’ve got nothing to lose. Get the spare wheel.”

  Whitton slowly walked to the back of the car and unscrewed the spare wheel in the boot. Dave pointed the gun at her the whole time. She picked up the wheel and rolled it over to the side of the car.

  “I still don’t understand Dave,” she said.

  She tried to sound calm but she could hear her own voice trembling.

  “Nobody understands anything anymore,” Dave sighed, “that’s the trouble with the world these days. There’s no such thing as empathy. Unscrew the wheel nuts.”

  A phone rang from inside the car’ it was Whitton’s.

  “Ignore it,” Dave ordered.

  The phone continued to ring and then it went silent. A car drove past on the main road but it did not stop. Whitton put the wheel spanner around one of the nuts and yanked. Nothing happened.

  “It’s stuck,” she said in a panic.

  “Try harder,” Dave said, “it’s amazing what you can do when you have to.”

  Whitton looked up at the gun pointing at her. The phone in the car started to ring again. Whitton had managed to budge the wheel nut and was busy unscrewing it. Dave casually walked round to the back of the car and opened the door. He picked up Whitton’s phone, stood on it and kicked it further up the road.

  “I tried to help you,” he said.

  Whitton was busy with the second nut.

  “I still don’t get it,” she said.

  “Didn’t you think it was strange that I was always around?” he said, “I came out of nowhere and suddenly I was in your faces the whole time.”

  “What are you talking about Dave?”

  Whitton looked at the gun again.

  “You and that boyfriend of yours were just too stupid to see it. In a way I think you lost sight of everything because you saw just one thing.”

  “One thing?” Whitton said.

  “Each other. I could see it in your faces. You were so blinded by each other that you missed what was right in front of you.”

  “What was that?”

  “Me of course but I knew it was all over when I took Mr Smith to see the girl.”

  “What girl?”

  “The girl in hospital. When Mr Smith told me she had woken up I knew that was it. She saw my face.”

  Whitton suddenly felt sick. She dropped the wheel spanner on the ground.

  “You?” she said.

  She looked straight into Dave’s eyes.

  Dave smiled. It was a mournful smile.

  “The little girl,” he mused, “by the time I’d finished with her mother most of the rage was gone but I had to finish what I’d set out to do. I obviously didn’t have enough hate left in me.”

  “You don’t have to do this Dave,” Whitton said.

  “Finish changing the wheel,” he sighed, “you and me are off to the seaside. Vera Mae loved the seaside. We’ll have fish and chips out of a newspaper.”