by Lucy Banks
“He said that I’d be well protected.”
Kester sighed. From the neighbouring shop window, a glitzy snowman whirled in giddy circles. “Well,” he concluded, “we need to find out what level of protection you’ll be offered before you say a word to anyone. I won’t have you put in peril.”
Anya giggled. “Your father recommended that I go and stay at your house for a while.”
The sly old dog, Kester thought, exasperated yet rather grateful at the same time. “You’re more than welcome to do so,” he replied in what he hoped was his least suggestive voice. “I’ll sleep on the sofa, of course.”
“Well, shall I do that then? Shall I come and stay with you?”
Kester beamed, stifling his smile with a cough. “Yes, why not? It’ll be nice having you around.”
“Thank you. Tonight, then?”
He spluttered. “Er, yes. Crikey.” It’s okay, you can handle this, he told himself firmly, nearly walking into a bench as he did so. “I’ve not got any food in, though,” he continued. “Pineapple raided the fridge again last night and stole pretty much everything I’d bought from the supermarket.”
“We’ll sort something out,” Anya replied. “Can I bring Thor?”
Oh no, not the rat-ferret that likes humping my leg, Kester thought, remembering the serpentine little creature, not to mention the unsavoury hip thrusts it had performed against his ankle when they’d last met. He bit back a sigh and replied, “Yes, of course.” He’d have to get in the habit of tucking his trousers firmly into his socks. Maybe I can get away with spraying it with pepper spray when Anya isn’t looking? he wondered.
After hanging up, he felt a little brighter. Who knows? he thought, neatly skipping across the road. Perhaps Dad wasn’t wrong to call Anya after all. It certainly wasn’t a bad move telling her she could stay at mine.
He glanced at the passing shop window and caught sight of his paunch, the thick glasses on his nose, and his hair wafting in the breeze like a tentative sandstorm. It wasn’t a great look. His heart sank a little, as it so often did when confronted with his own reflection.
As long as I don’t make a prat of myself, he concluded, deliberately looking away. That’s not too much to ask, is it?
Chapter 8: Anya’s Visit
Kester lit a candle. He positioned it on the mantelpiece, moved it an inch to the left, then stepped back to survey the effect.
His heart sank. The candle-light bounced off the rusty metal of the wall-mounted heater, and looked embarrassingly small, with only a plastic cat ornament that Daisy had picked up in Japan to keep it company. Utterly pathetic, he thought. Could I look as though I’m trying any harder?
A low whistle diverted his attention. Pineapple leant against the doorframe, wearing a tight lemon-coloured vest, jeans with a crotch to the kneecaps, and a grin of idiotic proportions.
“You impressing the lady tonight?” A lavish wink accompanied the smirk. “Hoping to get some tender loving, right?”
Kester reddened. “Absolutely not,” he scowled, then pinched the candle out. A stream of smoke plumed upwards to join the already-stained ceiling. “I was just trying to make the place feel a bit warmer, that’s all.”
Pineapple perched on the edge of the sofa and delivered a knowing nod. “Man, I feel you. If you don’t want her to be an ice-maiden, you’ve got to get her heated, that’s right.”
“Er, yes,” Kester replied uncertainly. He didn’t have a clue what Pineapple was talking about most of the time. “Are you going out this evening?” he added hopefully. The last thing he needed, when trying to have a nice conversation with Anya, was an imbecilic idiot with a top-knot joining them.
Pineapple ignored him. “So, she’s going to be staying for a while, that right, Kes?”
Kester bristled. He hated it when people abbreviated his name. “Yes,” he confirmed. “She’s having a few problems with . . . with a few things. So she needs to come somewhere safe.”
“Yeah, safe and warm.” Pineapple wrapped his arms around himself and mimed some sort of elaborate hug, which looked pretty indecent from where Kester was standing. “And to answer your question, me and Daisy are hitting the club scene, meeting with people, feeling the vibes.” He spun round, finger suspended in the air like a hoverfly. “Hey, you and the lady should come with us, yeah? Get spiritually connected, man.”
Kester moved the candle over to the coffee table, frowned, then put it back on the mantlepiece. “That’s okay. We’re alright for spiritual connection at the moment, thanks.”
A familiar shock of mousey hair, tamed into two backcombed bunches, appeared round the door, followed by Daisy’s beaming face. Kester was disturbed to see that she was wearing a lurid Lurex dress, which was printed with bunnies and other furry creatures. He shuddered involuntarily.
“Let’s head to the pub,” she suggested, linking arms with Pineapple. “Leave the two love-birds to it, eh?”
The doorbell rang. Daisy bustled Pineapple
out of the room, moving aside to let Kester past. “Good luck,” she whispered, slapping him on the bottom.
Fighting to rid himself of the memory of what Daisy had just done to him, Kester pulled open the door.
“Hello!” Anya shivered like a whippet on the front door step. She was weighted down with a backpack that was roughly the same size as her, plus a duvet coiled around herself. Thor slithered around her ankles, tethered by a studded lead, and fixed a beady gaze on Kester’s leg.
“How did you carry all this stuff?” he asked as he reached across to relieve her of her load, carefully avoiding the ferret.
She flexed her arms. “Ah, I have the strength of a superhero, haven’t you noticed?”
“That’ll explain it.” He pointed at her duvet. “You know you can just use mine, don’t you?”
She laughed. “I presumed you would be using your duvet when you slept on the sofa?”
Kester reddened. Oh gosh, did I just insinuate that she’d be tucked up under one duvet with me? he thought. To add to his embarrassment, Pineapple and Daisy each gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up before grabbing their coats.
“You have a nice evening, you wonderful, colourful people,” Pineapple drawled. He looked at Anya’s duvet and smirked. “Seems like you got it all prepared, sweet and nice, innit?”
Anya raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“And you’ve got a little friend too!” Daisy gushed, pouring herself beside Thor and promptly making insufferable cooing noises at him. “What an adorable otter he is!”
Anya opened her mouth to correct her, then caught sight of Kester’s expression and promptly closed it again.
“You off, then?” Kester said to his housemates with a pointed glance at the door.
Pineapple wiggled his hips in a manner that made him look as though he urgently needed the toilet. “We’re off, for sure. As long as you are on. You feel me? As in, let’s get it on?”
Unable to conceal a groan, Kester yanked open the door and drove Pineapple and Daisy out into the cold. “And on that note,” he announced, “it’s probably time for you to be on your way.” Before they could protest, he shut the door firmly in their surprised faces.
“Have a nice night!” Anya called, then giggled. Thor squeaked and leapt up the stairs, his lead trailing a slither of red behind him.
Kester ushered her through to the lounge, forcing himself not to dwell on what the ferret might do upstairs. The chill was palpable, even with the heating cranked to maximum. Though the boiler had finally been fixed, the radiators only ever felt lukewarm at best. He balanced himself awkwardly on the armrest of the sofa, then promptly got up again.
“Would you like a drink?”
She nodded. “Yes, please. Something strong. It’s been a long day. The library was so quiet.”
He trotted to the kitchen. Thankfully, Pineapple ha
dn’t yet had a chance to steal his bottle of wine. Hastily, he poured out two glasses, then fretted about the generous sizes. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get her drunk, he thought, wondering whether it was physically possible to feel more anxious about the evening than he already did.
“Here you go,” he said as he eased himself onto the sofa, which squealed underneath his weight. “Other than quiet, how was work?”
She sighed and took a hearty gulp of her wine. “Ah, you know. A few old women asking for books that don’t exist. Boys wanting books but not knowing what they’re called or who wrote them. That sort of thing.”
Kester grinned. “Sounds taxing.”
She leaned across and punched him lightly on the arm. “Yes, I know. Not nearly as serious as your job. How’s it all going, anyway?”
He rolled his eyes. “Stressfully. We’re having big problems with the Thelemites; they broke into Infinite Enterprises.”
“Your dad mentioned it, I think. Who are Infinite Enterprises?” Anya asked.
“Oh, just some bigwigs in London. They get all the cushy jobs because they’re the richest.”
She grimaced. “Like any other business, then. Have you found out who broke in?”
“Sort of.” Kester sipped nervously at his wine. He wasn’t quite sure how much he should be telling her, and he suspected the others wouldn’t approve of him sharing information. “We’ve got suspicions that a daemon’s behind it all.”
“A daemon, eh?” Anya exhaled deeply. “I heard about them from the Thelemites. What else do you know about the daemon?”
He shifted in his seat. “I probably shouldn’t say too much.”
“I understand.” She patted his leg, a gentle move that made his skin tingle. “Though you can trust me, you know. After all, they want to interrogate me about my time with the Thelemites, don’t they?”
He blushed. “I’m really sorry about my dad calling you out of the blue like that. He had no right to hassle you over the interview.”
“Ah, it’s fine,” she said, rearranging herself delicately against the lumpy cushion. “I don’t think I will be in too much danger. The Thelemites aren’t going to murder me in my bed.”
“But you said the other night that you felt like something was watching you?” Kester reminded her.
She grinned. “Perhaps I just said that because I wanted to be comforted by you.”
Kester felt his cheeks burn even brighter. “That’s a very sweet thing to say,” he mumbled, sipping his wine.
“You are a very sweet person, Kester.” She leaned in, eyes half-closed. He was confused, before realising she was waiting for him to kiss her. His heart leapt a little, and he moved in to meet her, closing his own eyes in readiness.
The door-bell rang, a tinny bell snapping them out of the moment. Kester cursed. “I bet that’s bloody Pineapple,” he said with an apologetic smile. “He’ll probably have decided to return for his bongos or something irritating like that.”
Anya giggled. “It’s okay, honestly. You go and answer it.”
He stomped out into the hallway. That bloody bastard Pineapple, he thought as he jiggled the key into the lock. Just as I’m about to get a kiss, he decides to come back home again. Absolutely typical.
A freezing gust of night air whooshed into the house as he pulled open the door. Kester flinched, looked up, then gasped. It was Serena, teetering on the doorstop and clasping some sort of box in her hands.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hello,” she mumbled and shoved the box against his chest. He looked down. To his surprise, it was a box of chocolates. “I got these for you. To say sorry. Alright?”
Kester’s jaw dropped open. He was aware that he probably looked like a freshly-caught trout struggling for breath, but he couldn’t quite manage to close it again. “For me?” he said, looking at the box and wondering whether it contained a bomb.
“For goodness’ sake, yes!” Serena frowned, tapping her fingernails on the doorframe. “I wanted to apologise for landing your girlfriend in it the other day. It wasn’t fair of me, and I know you’re cross.”
Kester shook his head in disbelief, not quite sure what to say. “Well,” he ventured, stroking the cover of the chocolate box thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s okay.”
Serena smiled tightly, then looked over her shoulder. “Also,” she continued, dropping her voice to a whisper, “I want to talk to you about something I’m worried about.”
“Really?” Kester was confused. He’d never seen Serena looking so nervous, not to mention non-hostile. “What’s the matter?”
She paused, then took a deep breath. “I’m not even sure where to start. Basically, I’ve got some suspicions about—”
“—Hello Serena!” Anya sidled up beside Kester, who jumped. He hadn’t heard her coming, even though the hallway floorboards usually creaked under even the slightest weight.
Serena’s face fell. “Oh. Hi, Anya. I didn’t realise you were here.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
Anya smiled. “There’s no reason why you would, I suppose.” She glanced at the box in Kester’s hands. “Oh, chocolates, that’s nice! What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing in particular, I was just apologising for . . . something.” Serena looked about as comfortable as someone who’d sat on a cactus. “Well, I can see I’ve caught you at a bad moment. I’ll just leave you two to it, shall I?”
“Hang on,” Kester said, catching her by the arm. “What were you going to say? Something about having suspicions?”
Serena shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We can talk about it another time. It’s just work-related stuff.”
Anya suddenly squealed and pointed to the air above Serena’s perfectly-smoothed bob. “What’s that?”
A mournful yowl echoed through the chill night air. Serena scowled.
“I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed as she flapped her hands above her head. “That sodding incubus!”
Kester stared in fascination. A little, brown wisp of smoke bounced crazily in the moonlight, dodging left and right to avoid Serena’s frantic fingers. “Oh dear,” he concluded. “You’re still having problems with him, then?”
“What is that thing?” Anya asked, fascinated. A glimmer of a smile tugged at her lips.
“An incubus,” Serena said in a manner that suggested she’d like to do unspeakably painful things to the spirit in question. “I tried to extinguish it on a recent job, but it latched onto me instead. Now it’s waking me up every bloody night.”
The incubus grew in size until its black, gleaming eyes could be easily seen in the milky light. He moaned again and hung what might have been his head down towards his shoulders.
“He doesn’t look very happy,” Anya commented. “Poor little thing.”
“Poor little thing, my arse,” Serena snapped. “You have it if you think it’s so cute.”
“Can’t you just extinguish him when he next appears?” Kester asked as he watched the spirit weave disconsolately in the air.
“No, I told you! He disappears every time I try,” she growled, glowering above her head. “It’s driving me absolutely crazy.” She swiped again at her head, made contact, and the spirit disappeared with a small pop, like a vacuum cleaner sucking on fabric.
“Why don’t you come in?” Kester offered. He suddenly felt a bit sorry for her. After all, he realised as he looked down at the chocolates, she’s come all this way just to apologise, which is uncharacteristically nice of her.
She shook her head. “No, I’ll leave you to it.” She turned to leave, then clicked her fingers. “Oh, before I forget, have you spoken to Miss Wellbeloved?”
“No, why?”
“Check your phone, I bet she’s tried calling you,” Serena continued. “There’s been a lead on the case.” She glanced mea
ningfully at Anya. “It’s probably best if we don’t discuss it now.”
Kester nodded. “Righty-ho, I’ll check for messages in a moment.” He waved the chocolates with vague embarrassment. “Erm, thank you for these. That’s very kind of you.”
Serena frowned. “That’s alright. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“It was nice seeing you again,” Anya said brightly. “I hope you don’t mind if I have some of the chocolates too.”
“Of course not.” Serena pulled her leather coat around herself, eyes cast down to the ground. “Have a pleasant evening.”
Kester watched her stalk down the lamp-lit street until she was just a shadow in the distance, then shut the door. “Well,” he said with a bemused glance at Anya. “That was unexpected.”
Anya’s mouth tightened. She looked up at him, scrutinising his face. “What do you think she wanted?”
“To give me these chocolates, I think.”
“No.” Anya shook her head, then headed back towards the lounge. “I don’t think that’s what she wanted at all.”
Kester frowned. She had a strange, guarded expression on her face that he hadn’t seen before.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” he said, passing her the glass of wine. “Did you want to watch some television or something? I need to quickly check to see if Miss Wellbeloved has left a message for me.”
She nodded and reached for the remote control.
“I love that you think that might actually work,” Kester said as he reached over for the main switch on the television. “But it doesn’t, I’m afraid. Much like most other things in this house.”
“Why have it, then?” she said, looking down at the device with bemusement.
“Pineapple thinks a broken remote control makes a nice ornament,” he explained. “Despite Daisy saying that defunct technological gadgets give off bad karma.”
She giggled. “Your housemates are weird.”
“You’ll find out just how weird after living with them for a few days,” Kester replied. “Also, you might want to never leave food in the fridge.”