Текст книги "The Black Pathway"

Автор книги: Mark C. Sutton

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

"Anywhere's fine, Howard." She answered. Anita was a tall, bespectacled woman, aged twenty seven, with long, treacle-coloured hair that always appeared lank and greasy, even when it actually wasn't. Up until half a year ago, before her relationship had broken up, Anita and Jack had lived in the same road as Howard Trenton, but she had known him long before that, too; When she was a little girl, Anita and her parents had, for a while, lived next door to Loretta Trenton, Howard’s mother.

Anita, little Jack, and Howard approached a run-down cafeteria. The signage above the shop doorway had been deliberately vandalised, with some of the plastic lettering missing, so that it read, 'Lisa Panty'. Howard couldn't help but chuckle to himself at this, even though experience told him that, in all probability, it was the work of his old enemy, Alex Crennell, or, at the very least, one of his goons, such as Gary Ackley, or Rob Mills. Howard pushed at the door of the café, and held it open for Anita and Jack to go through. He followed them into the cafeteria, and the three of them sat down at a table in the corner. The proprietor, who, unsurprisingly, was called Lisa, came shuffling over to the trio.

"Morning Howard, Anita, Jack." She greeted them. Jack was the first to speak.

"'Lisa hello!" He said, back-to-front. Lisa gave Jack a smile.

"Hi Lisa. How are things?" Asked Anita.

"Oh, you know, same old same old. Yourself?"

"We're getting by, thanks." Anita replied. Lisa turned to Howard.

"And what about you, young man? How's college?" She asked.

"Pretty naff." Answered Howard, wearing a sour smile. “But it keeps me off the streets, I suppose.” He grinned.

“Well, that’s something to be grateful for, I suppose.” Joked Lisa, a short, stout, grey-haired woman in her late fifties. “How’s Lucas and Kay keeping?” Enquired Lisa.

“They’re both fine, thanks Lisa.” Said Howard, who reached across the table and ruffled little Jack’s hair.

Lisa asked what Howard and his friends would like to order, then wandered off into the kitchen area of the cafeteria.

"So, have you seen Lennie?" Asked Anita, referring to her former partner, and Jack's father.

"Every now and again." Replied Howard.

"And is he still with her?" Anita went on, in reference to Julia Vince, the woman who Lennie had enthusiastically embarked on an affair with, behind her back.

"Afraid so." Answered Howard, looking down at the table.

“The tosser." Cursed Anita Morley. Immediately, she put a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, not in front of Jack." Apologised Anita. The toddler, who was sat on a chair between Howard and Anita, was playing with one of the plastic cafeteria menu's, and hadn't noticed his mother's mild profanity. Howard looked up at Anita.

"Lucas reckons that they're always arguing." He informed his friend.

"Really?" Anita responded.

"That's what Lucas tells me."

"Do you know what they argue about?" Anita asked, with curiosity. Howard shook his head.

"Nah, I don't." He answered. Anita leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and tilting her head to one side, so that she was looking at Jack, who appeared to be mesmerised by the plastic menu.

"Knowing Lennie, he's probably got bored of her by now… he'll have someone else, waiting in the wings." Anita said, whilst smiling at her son.

"Probably." Agreed Howard Trenton. He gazed out of the cafeteria window. It had started to snow lightly outside.

Howard stretched his legs under the table, and yawned.

"Sorry, it's the biology, not the company." He apologised.

"Are you tired, Howard?" Enquired Anita.

"Yeah, a little bit. I was up late last night, catching up with coursework and stuff. Then, afterwards, I couldn't get to sleep." Howard informed his friend.

"Oh, why not? You're not worrying about anything, are you?" Anita asked, concerned.

"No, I don't worry too much about anything, really. That doesn’t mean that I’m not always thinking about stuff, though… not worrying, just thinking… you know how it is, things going around and round in your head.” Howard confided.

“What sort of stuff? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.” Said Anita. Howard waved his hand.

“Of course I don’t mind you asking. How long have we been mates for?” He reminded Anita, who smiled.

“I’ve known you since you were born. I can still remember the day that your mom brought you home from hospital… I was nine, or ten at the time… you were such a cute little thing, a really gorgeous baby…”

“Ah, shut up, you’re making me blush.” Said Howard. Anita gave Howard a playful push on his upper arm.

“No, I won’t shut up! You’re still gorgeous, Mister Trenton.” Anita crooned. Howard and Anita’s eyes locked for a second, before Howard looked away, embarrassed.

“I’m really not.” He muttered. Anita gave him a kick underneath the table.

“Yes you are. Stop putting yourself down all of the time.” She said.

Anita put her hand on Howard’s.

“So, are you gonna tell me about this stuff that’s keeping you awake at night?” She asked. Howard thought about the new addition to his home, Mary Broderick, but he wasn’t going to mention that to Anita; he didn’t want to upset her.

“Oh, just all sorts of crap, really. I think about my mom a lot… I still miss her.” Said Howard. Anita squeezed his hand.

“That’s only natural, Howard.” She pointed out.

“And I don’t really know what I’d like to do, you know, when I’ve finished college.” Said Howard.

“Uni?” Suggested Anita. “You’re a natural academic. You’d do well at University.” She added. Howard shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not sure if it’s for me.” He replied. At that moment, Lisa returned to the table carrying a large tray.

“Here you go. Two burgers and fries, one small fish fingers and fries, two cokes and one lemonade.” Said Lisa. She lifted the food and drinks from off the tray and onto the table.

“Burgers look nice, as always.” Commented Howard.

“Best burgers in Coldsleet.” Added Anita, which made Lisa smile.

“Flattery will get you nowhere… you won’t be getting a discount.” She laughed. “But only because I can’t afford to give you one.”

“I wouldn't accept a discount, Lisa. I’m more than happy to pay full-price for your wonderful fare… it’s worth every penny.” Howard said, in a put-on, gushing voice.

“What are you like?” Responded Lisa, and she cuffed Howard softly on the back of his head, which caused some of his hair to stick up in the air. Jack pointed at the gravity-defying strands, then began to giggle.

“Ha, Howard funny hair!” He said. Howard pulled his tongue out at the youngster, which caused Jack to laugh even more.

“Come on, big guy.” Howard said to the young boy, as he flattened the strands of hair back down. “Let’s eat! Bet you can’t finish all of that food!” He teased. Anita watched as Howard laughed and joked with her young son, and couldn’t help but smile.

***

After their lunch, Anita, Jack and Howard left ‘Lisa’s Pantry’, and walked down to Coldsleet’s pebbled beach. They strolled along, Anita and Howard either side of Jack, holding his hands, lifting him into the air every few moments.

“Thanks again for lunch, Howard.” Said Anita, with gratitude.

“You’re more than welcome, Anita.” Nodded Howard. “One… two… three!” He said, looking down at Jack. The pair pulled the young boy up into the air. “Christ, I might actually start developing biceps at this rate.” Howard said to Anita. He looked back down to Jack. “You’re getting a big boy now, Jack. You weigh a ton.” He said.

“Howard. Can I talk to you about something?” Asked Anita.

“Yeah, sure.” Answered Howard. He glanced out to the ocean; it looked cold and miserable, just like the clouds that loomed over it.

“Well, you remember what I proposed to you, the last time we met up?” Said Anita. Howard couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Yes, Anita. How could I forget?” Came his response. “And nothing’s changed. The answer’s still ‘no’.” He immediately advised her. Anita sighed.

“But why? I still don’t understand. Is it the age gap between us?” She enquired.

“It’s got nothing to do with that, Anita, it really hasn’t.” Howard told her.

“Then what is it? I mean, you and I, we’re attracted to each other, right?” Anita asked.

“You know that we are.” Conceded Howard Trenton. “I just can’t get involved with you. Not in that way.”

“Surely it wouldn’t hurt though, to just give things a go? If it didn't work out…”

“No, Anita. It’s not going to happen.” Said Howard, firmly. As much as I’d love to, I can’t get close to you, he privately thought. Howard looked down at Jack and smiled, and that little boy is the reason why. I’d never, ever hurt a child, but I’d hurt you, Anita, if we had a relationship and it failed… that’s what I do… I can’t stop myself… I hurt people… but I’m not prepared to put a kid through the misery of having his mom ripped away from him.

***

After they had visited the beach, Howard walked with Anita and Jack, until they approached the row of shops where “Steve’s Vinyls’ store was located.

“I’m going to have a mooch inside, then head off home.” Said Howard.

“Okay. When do you want to meet up again?” Asked Anita, who was still carrying around disappointment in her heart at Howard’s earlier rejection. “Actually, is there any point in us meeting up again?” She suddenly asked.

“Don’t be like that, Anita. You’re my best friend. And so is little Jack here, too.” He replied, ruffling the little boy’s hair with his fingers. “I would love for us to all be together, properly, as a family. I really would. But I’ve got reasons why that can’t happen, and they’re very compelling reasons, too. If I could tell you, then I know that you’d understand…”

“Try me.” Interrupted Anita. Howard gave her a sad smile.

“If only I could, but it’s not that easy. One day though, you’ll probably work out for yourself the reason why.” Said Howard, with an unintended air of mystery. That’s because I know that I’m not indestructible, or infallible, and that I’ve already done some terrible, horrible things. Some day in the future – when, I don’t know – I’m going to get caught. My dirty, rotten secrets will be exposed to the whole fucking world. It’s inevitable. People like me always get found out, in the end. We think that we’re clever, but we’re not… not really. If we were clever, we wouldn’t be doing the things that we do in the first place.

Howard knelt down and gave Jack a kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll see you soon, young man.” He said. “Look after mommy for me.”

“Bye bye.” Replied Jack. Howard gave the young boy’s hair another ruffle. He stood back up, and pulled a twenty pound note out of his pocket.

“Here,” he said to Anita, “get Jack something nice.” Howard handed the money to Anita.

“Howard, you shouldn’t…”

“Yes, I should. I want to.” Howard cut-in, before his friend could protest any further. He reached out and stroked Anita’s face. “I just wish that I could be different… to be able to give you what we both want… but I can’t.” Howard told her. Anita reached up and held Howard’s hand for a few moments, before letting go.

“I’ll see you soon, Howard. Give me a call.” She said.

“Will do.” Replied Howard. Anita smiled.

“Come on Jack, let’s get you home before this snow gets any worse.” She said to her young son. Howard watched as they walked away. Jack turned around and waved at him, and the teenager returned the gesture. For a brief moment, Howard felt his eyes moisten. Hurriedly, he wiped them dry with the sleeve of his coat.

“No.” He whispered, quietly. “I don’t cry.” Or so I tell myself.

***

Howard didn’t spend long inside “Steve’s Vinyls’; there was no new stock in, and therefore nothing of any interest for him at all. Instead, he headed a few doors down, to ‘Coldsleet Books’, a small, second-hand book-shop that, like most other retail outlets in the town, was pretty much on its last legs. Howard entered the shop, which was run by a hunched-over old lady called Minnie. When she saw Howard, Minnie smiled.

“Ah, young Mister Trenton. We don’t see you in here very often.” She said.

“How are you keeping, Min?” Smiled Howard.

“Oh, not too bad, my dear. And yourself?” Minnie asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay… wish the weather would warm up a bit though.” Howard responded.

“I know. It’s a bloomin’ cold one today.” The old lady agreed. “So, is there anything in particular that you’re looking for? Some books for college, perhaps?” Enquired Minnie.

“No. I’m just browsing.” Answered Howard, and he walked over to one of the shelves that had a little cardboard sign pinned to the top of it, saying ‘True Crime’. There were only a handful of books under that heading. This didn't surprise Howard; if one wanted a decent selection of books in that particular genre, it usually meant a trip to Elman, which had three, much larger, stores that catered for readers.

Howard pulled one of the true-crime books out, and looked at the cover with slight disgust.

‘Secrets of a South-Coast Viper – Inside the World of Gang Boss, Ricardo Velida’, the book was titled, accompanied by a photograph of an ageing chap, holding a large handgun. The old man looked, to Howard, a lot like the late comedy actor, Charles Hawtrey. God, I hate rubbish about fucking pseudo-mobsters, Howard thought to himself. He hurriedly pushed the book back onto the shelf, and pulled out a larger hardback next to it. Howard studied the cover.

‘The Greatest Act of All: Murder! – A Study into Donald De’ath and his Crimes – By Jed Fellows’. Underneath the book’s title was an aged picture of a camp-looking man standing on a theatre stage, and holding a bunch of flowers. Is this for real? Who the fuck is Donald De’ath? Wondered Howard Trenton. He sighed and put the book back in its place on the shelf. The next book that he looked at was of far more interest than the previous two Howard had briefly perused; it was a compendium concerning serial killers. From the cover, the faces of Charlie Manson, Theodore Bundy, Fred West, Reg Christie, Peter Sutcliffe, and several others, stared out towards Howard, who smiled back at them. These are my kind, thought Howard Trenton to himself, this is the group of individuals to which I belong. I didn't ask for it to be that way. It’s just the way that it is…

 

Minnie, the book-store owner, interrupted Howard’s private thoughts.

“That’s a good book, is that. Especially the stuff about Peter Sutcliffe. I used to live in Leeds, back in the very early nineteen eighties, when he was on the loose up there. They were frightening times.” Reflected Minnie.

“It all happened long before I was born, Minnie… is he still alive?” Asked Howard.

“Yes, as far as I know. I think that he ended up in one of those special hospitals… Rampton, or maybe it was Broadmoor.” Replied Minnie. “Mind you, there’s some people in Coldsleet who’ll tell you that there’s a killer doing the rounds in this neck of the woods.”

“What? Here in this town?” Responded Howard.

“No, not specifically in Coldsleet… well apart from that one girl… I can't remember her name now… but up along the north-west coast. There's been quite a few disappearances over the last two or three years.” Advised Minnie.

“Really?” Asked Howard, who knew damned well what the elderly lady was talking about. Dark memories began to cascade through his mind…

“Oh yes, and there was that one young woman who went missing from…”

“From Elman. Yeah, of course, I remember that one well. There were posters of her put up at the College, asking for information about the disappearance.” Said Howard. “I thought that the teenage girl who vanished from Coldsleet was just a runaway?”

“Well, that seems to be the general opinion… she was a bit of a tearaway, was Becky, but some around here aren’t so sure.” Minnie told Howard. “Did you not know her? She was about your age?” She asked. Howard shook his head.

“I’ve only got a few friends Min, and that’s the way that I like it. I keep myself to myself. I don’t take too much notice of anyone else.” He replied. Except Howard did know, or rather, had known Becky Robinson, and on a very intimate level too. Because, not that long ago, Howard Trenton had murdered the young woman. By freezing her to death.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Netherton farmhouse had been empty for almost twenty years, ever since the former owner, Len Goodman, had died from a sudden and massive heart attack. Since then, the elements had taken hold of the neglected building; one of the farmhouse walls had partially crumbled, and the roof had collapsed. Howard Trenton found a beauty in that; he’d never seen the farmhouse when it was intact, and couldn’t imagine what it had once looked like, either. It wasn’t something that he spent a lot of time dwelling on, truth be known. Howard preferred the structure to look just the way that it did; broken, and slowly falling apart.

Howard walked around the side of the farmhouse, along a stone pathway that had almost disappeared under long tufts of overgrown grass. He came to a gate, which had come off its hinges. Howard, who was carrying a plastic bag, gently placed it on the floor, then lifted the gate, pulling it away from the wooden gate-frame. He leaned the gate against one of the farmhouse walls, picked up the plastic bag, and then walked into what was once a small back garden, but was now more like a jungle. Howard smiled.

“Hello again, my little world.” He said. Howard carried on forwards, through the overgrown grass, weeds, and brambles, towards a small wooden fence that marked the edge of the garden. Leaning against the fence was a rusty old spade that Howard had left there following his last visit, six months ago. The handle was covered with something white and powdery.

“Dried bird shit.” Mumbled Howard, who pulled the sleeve of his coat over his hand, before brushing away at the spade handle, a slight look of disgust on his face.

When Howard had finished cleaning the handle of the spade, he put the plastic bag that he’d been carrying on the floor again, and then began to dig a small hole in the ground. Howard whistled a tune to himself as he performed this task. I’m glad that I bought that cd from Steve’s shop. There’s some great tracks on it, Howard thought. I’ll have to pop back down to Steve’s again, some time next week, see if he’s got any other albums by that band… they’re pretty good. Howard finished digging the hole in the ground. He propped the spade back up against the wooden fence, and then picked up the plastic bag that he’d laid down on the floor. Howard hovered over the hole, and tipped the plastic bag upside down. A dead cat fell from the bag, and into the makeshift grave that Howard had just dug. Howard looked down at the animal, which he had murdered the evening before. Half of its head was caved in, from where Howard had hit it repeatedly with one of Lucas’s hammers. The cats skull, and a slither of brain, were exposed. Howard grinned.

“How do you like your new home, Buttons?” He asked the cat, a creature that wouldn't have been capable of replying, even if it hadn’t had its skull shattered. “I bet Mister Whitehouse is out and about, searching for you, right now… the stupid old shit. You’re all that he had left, but now you’re dead. He’ll be so fucking lonely without you… serves him right, miserable bastard. Now, Buttons, what was it that your crusty old fart of an owner said to me? Oh, I remember… ‘You’re a weirdo, just like your mother was.’ And all because of a stupid argument over… I can’t even remember what it was about now. Not that it matters. He’s just lucky that… well, you know what I mean, don’t you, Buttons? It could have been your precious fucking master lying here in this garden right now, rather than you. Looks like you drew the short straw, little puddy cat.” With that, Howard threw a shovelful of dirt over the body of the dead feline, and then he began to whistle cheerily again.

When Howard had finished burying Buttons the cat, he let the spade fall to the floor, and then walked a short distance, parallel to the wooden fence, until he reached a half-broken concrete post. Howard stopped walking, and stared down at the ground.

“I wonder how you’re doing down there, my friend.” Said Howard. “It’s been about a year now.” He added. Howard sat down on the dirt, then he stroked the ground with his hand. “Nobody misses you in Coldsleet. Nobody at all.” Howard gave a little laugh. “Everyone thinks that you ran away. That’s probably because they all knew that you didn’t get along with your parents… plus I made it look like you’d left Coldsleet of your own volition. That was a clever move on my part.” Bragged Howard. He began to drift away, lost in his own memories. “I didn’t want all of the… fuss… that happened when the other one went missing… you know who I’m talking about… that silly little bitch from Elman. That was bad. Police everywhere. Reporters too. I didn’t like that. I hated having to go to college with those sleazy little fuckers knocking about all over the place. They still go on about… her… in that town. It’s all still a great big mystery, and you know what the people of Elman are like, they’re the same as in Coldsleet… they haven’t really got much else to talk about, coz they’re generally a bunch of fucking inbred, boring bastards. Every few months, there’s some article or other about her in the local rags, you know, speculating, theorising. It pisses me off, but there’s not much I can do about that, now. At least no-one has ever looked in my direction… but then, why would they? I’m just regarded as some quiet, slightly weird local college kid, who shares a house with his cousin’s family and inherited a small fortune from his mentally ill mother. I’m still under everyone’s radar… except I know that, one day, I’ll slip up. People like me always slip up in the end. I suppose that it’s the way that it has to be… it’s how lesser individuals discover the true Barbarians, monsters, that walk amongst them… and it keeps the little fuckers on their toes…”

Howard looked across to the spot where he’d just buried the cat.

“I’ve brought a new addition for the garden. A little pet to keep you company. He belonged to old Mister Whitehouse, but I decided to bring him here, to you and her.” Howard said. He looked around the rest of the garden, feeling slightly maudlin. “I don’t think I’ll be coming here again… well, not with someone else, if you know what I mean. I’ll still come to visit you and her, and Buttons too, but I won’t be planting any more flowers here. It’s common sense… when it’s time to do another one, and that time is approaching fast, they’ll have to go somewhere else. I don’t know where yet, but I’ll find a new place to put them. You see, I can’t keep dumping you all in the same spot, just in case I get caught. I don’t want them to be able to find out all of my secret stuff… and that’s what’ll happen, if I carry on bringing people here, to the farm.” Howard stroked the ground again. “When they catch me, they’ll find my journal too. After they’ve read that, they’ll know who I killed, and where some of them can be found. But not all of them. I’m not just gonna hand those fuckers everything on a plate. Some things have to be kept secret… it might give me some sort of bargaining position, in the future.” He said. “Anyway, I can’t hang around here all day. Best be going. Bye, girl.” Howard stood up, and then walked back to where Buttons was buried. He picked up the spade from off the floor, but instead of propping it up against the wooden fence, he took it back to the car with him, and placed it inside the boot. I won’t be doing any more digging up at this farmhouse again.

***

When Howard got home that evening, he decided to spend the evening downstairs rather than in his bedroom. Howard wanted to be around Mary, who had been stopping at the house for almost a week. Lucas, Kay, and Mary were all sat on the sofa in the living room, watching a film on the television, when Howard joined them. They all looked up when he entered the room, and said ‘hi’ to him. Howard nodded, and sat himself down in the armchair.

“What are you watching?” He asked. Lucas yawned.

“It’s a film about some terrorist who’s kidnapped a bus-load of school kids. It isn’t very good.” Replied Lucas. He turned to his wife. “Actually, shall I see if there’s anything else on?” Lucas asked her.

“Can you leave it? I think that it’s alright.” Kay replied.

“It’s crap.” Chipped-in Mary. Howard looked at her, with a smile on his face, and Mary smiled back at him.

That bad, huh?” Asked Howard.

“Yep, it’s that bad. Does anyone fancy a cuppa?” Mary wanted to know. She got up from off the sofa.

“Not for me.” Replied Lucas, who was drinking a can of beer.

“Nor me.” Said Kay, nursing a glass of wine.

“Howard?” Asked Mary.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll come and help you.” Answered Howard, seizing the opportunity to get Mary on her own. The young woman walked off into the kitchen, and Howard followed behind her, admiring Mary’s backside as he did so.

Mary and Howard entered the kitchen, and she flipped the light on. Mary walked over to the kettle, and filled it up with water from one of the kitchen taps.

“Are you at college tomorrow?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Replied Howard.

“Are you taking your car? Or getting the bus?” Mary wanted to know.

“Bus. It’s too much hassle trying to find a parking space at the college, especially on a Monday.” Howard advised her.

“What time are you heading out at?” Asked Mary.

“About eight thirty.” Answered Howard.

“Cool. Do you mind if I tag along with you for the bus ride? I’ve got to pop into Elman, visit the bank. See if the stingy bastards will extend my overdraft a little.” Mary informed Howard, as she switched the kettle on.

“That’s fine, I’d like the company. Are you not in work tomorrow then?”

“No, I’ve got two days off. It’s nice actually, a Sunday night without the prospect of work looming over me the next day. I could get used to this.” Mary grinned. She sat down at the kitchen table, and Howard did the same. He gazed at Mary as she stared over towards the kettle. When she turned to face him, Howard diverted his gaze from her.

Mary scratched at the back of her neck for a moment, then flicked her long, wavy hair from off her shoulder.

“So, what have you been up to today, Howard?” She asked the teenager. Howard shrugged his shoulders.

“Not much, really. I went for a drive, up near Knighton.” Howard lied. “I had a quick walk around the shops and stuff, but most places were shut, what with it being a Sunday and all… do you ever visit Knighton, Mary?” He asked. Mary shook her head.

“I’ve been a few times… there’s not much there though, if I remember rightly.” Mary answered.

“You’re right. Knighton is like Coldsleet. It’s a dying town.” Commented Howard. “Still, I prefer it that way.” He added. Mary gave him a curious look.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“It’s better, you know… quieter. My mom… when she was alive… well, she told me that Coldsleet used to be… and we’re talking a long time ago… a really busy town. It was a big holiday destination, one of the biggest in the north-west. You look around the place, today, and you just can’t imagine that… all of those people, crowding the streets, getting in your way. No thanks. I prefer Coldsleet how it is right now.” Said Howard.

“Well, I suppose…”

“Do you like decay, Mary?” Howard suddenly asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Replied Mary, slightly perplexed.

“Decay. You know. When things begin to rot away. When they start slowly falling apart. Do you like that sort of thing, Mary?” Howard repeated his question. Mary didn’t know how to respond.

“Let me have a think about that one while I finish off making the tea.” She said, giving Howard a look of curiosity.

A minute or two later, Howard and Mary sat at the kitchen table, drinking their mugs of tea.

“What I meant was… perfection. I think that it’s an ugly thing, Mary. You know, sometimes, I’ll be watching the television, and some model or other will come on, and I look at them, and do you know what?” Asked Howard.

“You get a hard-on?” Quipped Mary. A quick look of disgust, mixed with embarrassment, shot across Howard Trenton’s face.

“That’s filthy, Mary.” He commented. “Really filthy.”

“Sorry Howard.” Said Mary, desperately trying not to start laughing at Howard’s apparently prim and proper attitude.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Howard replied, in a tetchy, irritated manner. “Where was I? Oh yes. I look at these models that you get, appearing on the television, with their perfect faces, perfect hair, perfect bodies… and they disgust me. There’s nothing remotely attractive about them… not to me, at any rate. But if I, say, you know, see a woman, and she’s a bit… well, how do I put it… not ‘rough’… that’s too strong a word… if I see a woman and she’s a bit… imperfect… then that’s much nicer, it’s… sexy.” Revealed Howard.

“I see…” replied Mary. This guy’s a fucking weirdo, she thought to herself.

Howard took a sip of his tea, and then carried on with his discourse on decay and imperfection, warming to the subject. He thought about Kate Williams for a second.

“There’s a woman that I know… she’s not a girlfriend, or anything like that… she’s a lot older than me, old enough to be my mom, as it goes… she’s got a bad haircut, a sort of bob, but uneven, like it’s been cut with a knife and fork… I’m guessing that she does it herself… a professional hairdresser would be shot for producing a style like that… anyway, this woman… she has dyed brown hair, but she’s always forgetting to do the roots regularly, and you can see the grey as it comes through. Her teeth, they’re a bit crooked. When she smiles, you can see that one of her front teeth slightly overlaps the other one. There’s quite a few broken veins on the one side of her nose, and a few more on her cheek. She’s almost, but not quite, got a double chin. She’s definitely on the portly side. This woman… when she wears a t-shirt, you can make out the roll of flab around her middle, underneath the fabric. She’s slowly falling apart, going to pot, decaying… and do you want to know something, Mary?” Howard asked.

“Go on.” Mary replied.