Текст книги "The Black Pathway"
Автор книги: Mark C. Sutton
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
“There’s nothing’s wrong with you, but you’re too young for me.” Kate told him.
“Yeah, you weren’t saying that when you wanted me to go down on you.” Commented Howard, in a bitchy little voice.
“Goodbye Howard.” Said Kate.
“Hey! Don’t put your fucking phone down on me!” Ordered Howard, but it was already too late; the line went dead. Angrily, he dialled Kate’s telephone number again. All he got was her voicemail. Howard slung the mobile phone onto his bed. You’ll fucking pay for that, Kate, he thought. Howard got up from off his bed, and walked over to the bedroom window. Wonder if those shit-head coppers have left Alfie’s house yet? He wondered. Howard looked out of the window, and instantly jumped back, shaken; Detective Tom Grogan had been stood on the pavement below, staring up at Howard’s bedroom window.
Howard sat back down on the bed, shaking. Fuck, he’s on to me… he knows that I was in that house on the night that Alfie Whitehouse died. It's all because of those stupid fucking footprints… and him catching me smiling up at Alfie’s window. What if he’s here to arrest me, right now? Panicked Howard. Sure enough, the doorbell began to ring downstairs. Shit. What am I gonna do? What the fuck am I gonna do? Howard heard the front door open.
“Yeah, I’ll just go and get him for you.” He heard Kay say to somebody. Suddenly, there came shouting up the stairs. “Howard, could you come downstairs please?” Requested Kay. “Now!” She barked. Howard got up from off the bed and left his room. As he passed Mary’s room, he heard her softly groaning. She's getting fucked by that creepy little shit, Alex Crennell, realised Howard, tormented. That’ll be one of the last things that I ever hear whilst I’m at liberty… the sound of the woman of my dreams being pleasured by Alex Crennell’s dirty, smelly dick. Howard Trenton reached the top of the stairs, and looked down them; sure enough, Detective Tom Grogan was stood in the hallway, next to Kay. They were both looking up at Howard.
Howard walked down the stairs.
“Oh, hello, Mister Grogan.” Said Howard, his voice croaking.
“Hello again, Howard.” Replied the detective, smiling.
“Could I ask what this is about, sir?” Asked Kay. “Is this to do with Alfie Whitehouse?”
“Yes… but there’s absolutely nothing to worry about” Said Tom Grogan. “Nothing at all. I just need Howard’s help with something.” He added.
“Oh? What might that be?” Howard was curious to know.
“Well, Howard. You remember that discussion we had earlier on? About those footprints that we found in Mister Whitehouse’s bath-tub?”
“What footprints?” Asked Kay. Tom Grogan cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Mrs Trenton. I should explain… we believe that Mr Whitehouse might have been murdered.” He said, matter-of-fact. Kay put her hands up to her mouth.
“Murdered?” She asked, visibly shocked.
“It’s a theory that we’re working on.” Stated Tom. He smiled at Howard. “Could we borrow your hi-tops, Howard?” Tom asked, unexpectedly.
“What?” Replied Howard.
“Your hi-tops. The trainers that you were wearing earlier… I see you’ve changed out of them.” Noticed Tom, staring down at Howard’s slippers.
“Why do you want to borrow…” Howard was cut short by Kay.
“You don’t think Howard has got something to do with all of this, do you, Mister Grogan?” She asked. Tom laughed.
“No, Mrs Trenton, certainly not. But it would be helpful if I could borrow his trainers.” Answered the detective.
Detective Tom Grogan looked at Howard.
“So… can I?” He asked.
“Can you what?” Howard responded.
“Borrow the trainers that you wearing earlier. The canvas hi-tops.” Said Tom.
“Not unless you tell me why.” Howard replied. Tom Grogan sighed.
“It’s nothing sinister, Howard. We’re taking some photographs of the footprints right now. I mentioned to one of the forensic guys that you were wearing a style of hi-tops that I suspect was also worn by the intruder who broke into Mr Whitehouse’s home. He suggested we do a side-by-side comparison. That's all.” Explained Tom. Howard didn’t believe him.
“You think that I did it, don’t you?” He spat. “You think that I killed Mr Whitehouse.” Tom laughed.
“Don’t be daft, Howard. Of course we don’t…”
“Yes you do!” Howard reiterated, his voice edgy, full of paranoia.
“You’re not tall enough, Howard.” Tom suddenly revealed.
“What?” Asked Howard.
“I said that you’re not tall enough… I should explain. We have an eye-witness who thinks that they saw the intruder hanging around Mister Whitehouse’s home, on the evening that he died.” Tom informed Howard, telling bare-faced, but very necessary, lies. “The eye-witness has given us a detailed description of the suspect. We’re looking for a man in his late twenties or early thirties, approximately six foot three in height. You’re, what, five six, five seven?”
“Five eight.” Corrected Howard.
“Exactly. Our eye-witness was very specific about the intruders height. The individual that we're seeking is much taller than average.” Advised Tom.
Howard’s eyes darted between Tom and Kay, confused. The detective smiled at the teenager, secretly enjoying his chief suspect’s discomfort. I remember looking out of Alfie Whitehouse’s bedroom window, son, and catching you staring up at it with that smirk on your face… now why would you be doing that? You’re not smirking now though, are you?
“So, how about it, Howard? Can we borrow your hi-tops, just for half an hour or so?” Asked the detective.
“They’re on the radiator in the kitchen, soaking wet.” Replied Howard.
“Soaking wet?” Queried Tom.
“Yeah. I’ve run them through the washing machine.” Said Howard.
“Why have you done that, Howard?” The detective wanted to know.
“Because they stink.” Answered Howard, which was true, but not the real reason why he’d put the trainers in the washer.
“They stink?” Replied Tom, with an eyebrow raised.
“Yes. I’ve got athlete’s foot. All of my trainers end up stinking. I often put them in the washing machine, don’t I, Kay?”
“You do, yes.” Agreed Kay. The detective thought about this for a few moments. Sneaky little bastard. I was hoping to get some dirt and sand samples off those hi-tops to compare with what we found at Alfie Whitehouse’s home… no bloody chance of that now. Detective Tom Grogan smiled.
“Not to worry. Best leave those trainers on the radiator to dry out. Thanks for your time.” He said to Howard and Kay.
“But I thought that you wanted to borrow…”
“Really, it doesn't matter. It was just an idea.” Said Tom, interrupting Kay. The policeman gave Howard a stare. “Goodnight, Howard.” He said. Howard Trenton didn't reply.
Chapter Fourteen
Alex Crennell sat on the edge of Mary’s bed, having just got dressed.
“I suppose that I’d better be heading off home… early start for college in the morning.” He said. Mary, who was still lying in bed, reached out and stroked Alex’s back. He turned around and leaned over her, kissing Mary on her forehead.
“You could always stay over. Lucas and Kay wouldn't mind.” Said Mary.
“I ain’t so sure about that… I don’t think Lucas likes me very much. And from what you’ve told me, Howard wouldn't be too happy, either.” Replied Alex.
“Why should Howard care, if he’s got Kate?” Laughed Mary.
“Because I reckon that he’s still hung up on you.” Said Alex.
“Well, that’s tough for Howard… if he thinks I’m going to be walking the Black Pathway with him anytime soon, then he’s in for a long wait.” Mary commented. This caused Alex to frown.
“What are you going on about? The Black Pathway?” He wanted to know.
“Oh, I just remembered how Howard suggested we do the walk together, when the weather warms up. It’s one of his favourite walks, from what he told me.” Advised Mary, as she put a jumper back on.
“What? Howard’s walked the Black Pathway?” Alex asked, with curiosity.
“Yeah, he’s walked it loads of times.” Replied Mary. Alex recalled how he had been defeated by the trail, having to abandon the trek when he arrived at the town of Hoffen. He remembered his aching limbs, blistered and swollen feet… his body, covered in sweat, and hammered with exhaustion. Alex felt a surge of jealousy rising within.
“Howard has walked the whole of the Black Pathway? Seriously? A little wimp like Howard?” Queried Alex, incredulous.
“Well yes. It’s one of his favourite walks, like I just said.” Mary answered. Alex bit down on his lip. How could that silly bastard manage to do the walk, when I couldn’t? He wondered to himself. How?
Alex Crennell suddenly came out with a suggestion, in a moment of envy and resentment towards Howard Trenton.
“We should do it!” He exclaimed.
“We should do what?” Asked Mary, wearing a puzzled expression.
“We should walk the Black Pathway Trail. Together.” Alex suggested. I’m not letting Howard Trenton get one over on me, he thought to himself. If he can do that walk, then so can I. I’m better than him! I’m better than Howard fucking Trenton! Mused Alex, his petty and childish nature coming to the fore.
“Okay. If that's what you want.” Replied Mary. “Spring’s not far off now. We could…”
“No,” butted-in Alex, “we should do it this weekend.”
“What? Why?” Mary asked, with a slightly nervous laugh.
“Because we just should.” Said Alex, unable to give any rational sort of answer to his new girlfriend.
“But it's the middle of the winter, Alex.” Pointed out Mary.
“Good. That’ll make it more of a challenge.” Alex replied. “Can you get Monday off work?” He suddenly asked. Mary shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m guessing so… my boss is normally pretty easy about…”
“Then book it as leave. I think that we should walk the Black Pathway this weekend. Start on Saturday morning, finish on Monday evening.” Said Alex.
“Stop overnight at Knighton on Saturday night. Then Hoffen on Sunday evening. Once we reach Salegate, we can get a taxi home.” He went on. “It’ll be like a little mini-holiday, except with lots of walking in-between.” Alex added, trying to sell his suggestion to Mary.
Mary Broderick got out of her bed and wriggled back into a pair of jeans that she had earlier slung on the floor.
“Are you always this impulsive, Alex?” She asked, smiling.
‘Yep.” Came his brief response.
“This Black Pathway… is it, you know, dangerous? Howard told me that there’s a couple of mountains involved.” Wondered Mary.
“It’s just a walk, Mary. A very long walk.” Alex replied.
“I take it that you’ve done it before then?”
“Yeah, of course.” Said Alex, with dishonesty. “It’s a piece of piss.”
“But Howard told me that it can be dangerous in parts.” Mary responded.
“Howard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” Snapped Alex, struggling to keep his temper. “I bet that he’s never actually walked the trail. He was probably just trying to impress you.” Alex added, with utter hypocrisy.
“You really don’t like Howard, do you?” Observed Mary.
“No, I don’t. He’s a sullen, stroppy little shit.” Said Alex. Mary remembered how Howard had turned on her, down at Hingley beach. She didn’t mention this to Alex.
“Okay, Alex. We’ll do the Black Pathway this weekend… as long as I can get the Monday off work. It shouldn't be a problem though.” Smiled Mary.
“Nice one.” Responded Alex, who was desperate to put himself back on an even-keel against Howard Trenton.
***
Howard Trenton walked down the road where Kate Williams lived, near to Coldsleet Harbour. It was late, getting on for midnight. So, Kate, you think that it’s okay to just dump me like that? Have your fucking way with me and then discard me like I’m some worthless piece of shit? Well, we’ll see about that, thought Howard, angrily. It’s not as if I’ve got anything to lose. I know… KNOW that that cunt Tom Grogan is onto me about Alfie Whitehouse… it’s just a matter of time before he comes knocking on my door again, and not to ask to borrow my fucking hi-tops, either. I’m gonna end up being banged away, so I may as well go out with a bang. Howard reached the front gate of Kate William’s home and smiled to himself. You’re gonna go all cold on me, Kate? Soon, you’ll now what it’s like to go really fucking cold. You want to be a frosty little bitch? Well, you’re gonna get exactly what you wish for. Suddenly, Kate’s front door opened up, causing Howard to jump. He lurched sidewards, away from the front gate, and hid behind a nearby hedgerow. Howard peered around the hedge. Kate was stood on her front doorstep. With a man. A man that Howard Trenton knew. His name was Alan Lane, and he was an English language lecturer at Elman College.
Howard peeked out and watched as Kate Williams embraced Alan Lane, before kissing him fully on the lips. The teenager felt a surge of resentment and anger swell inside him.
“Promise that you’ll stay over tomorrow night?” Kate asked Alan.
“Of course. No getting up for work the next morning to worry about, not on a Friday evening.” Replied the English tutor. Howard heard this, and felt his stomach knot. He imagined Alan fucking Kate from behind, just like he had done, not very long ago. What the fuck? Thought Howard. I’m getting a fucking hard-on. I’m getting a stiffy… as I torture myself thinking about that… silly drip… shafting MY Kate. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Shall I bring some wine over tomorrow?” Asked Alan Lane, a short, weedy-looking man with a greying crew-cut.
“That’d be nice.” Answered Kate. “We could get a takeaway, too.” She suggested.
“Sounds ideal.” Said Alan. The pair kissed again. “Right, I’d best be making tracks. See you in college tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” Replied Kate. Alan walked up the pathway, opened the small front gate, and walked past the hedgerow where Howard was hiding. Except Howard had already gone.
***
The next morning, Howard Trenton looked out of his bedroom window; there was no sign of any police activity across the road, over at Alfie Whitehouse’s home. They’ve probably already got all of the fucking evidence that they need to arrest me, pondered Howard, gloomily. A knock on the bedroom door interrupted Howard’s thoughts.
“Come in.” Said Howard. His cousin, Lucas, entered the room.
‘Are you not going to college today, Howard? Only it’s getting on for eight o’clock?” Lucas asked.
“Oh, I’ve got a late start today, Luke.” Replied Howard. “I’m gonna drive into Elman… I can’t be arsed hanging around in the cold for a bus.” He added. Lucas nodded.
“So, what do you think about this whole Mary and Alex business?” Wondered Lucas. Howard felt his body tense up at just the mention of Alex Crennell’s name.
“I think that Mary’s making a big mistake getting involved with that cunt.” Answered Howard, with venom.
“Blimey, don’t mince your words, eh Howard?” Laughed Lucas.
“He’s a wanker.” Continued the teenager. ‘Mary’s too good for him.”
“I agree with you there. Still, there’s not much we can do about it. Mary’s a grown woman. It’s not up to us who she chooses to go out with.” Pointed out Lucas. Howard grunted, but other than that, he didn't reply.
Lucas picked at a flake of paint that was coming off the door-frame into Howard’s bedroom.
“Hey, Howard. You’ve walked the Black Pathway, haven’t you?” He asked his cousin.
“Sure. Why?” Howard replied.
“Is it safe to walk, you know, in the middle of winter?” Wondered Lucas. Howard let out a little laugh.
“Not really… unless you’re experienced… and I do mean experienced. Hardly anyone walks the trail during the winter. Why? You’re not thinking about having a bash at it, are you Luke? Coz I’d hold off until the spring, if I were you.” Said Howard. Lucas smiled.
“Nah, walking up mountains isn’t my thing. It’s Mary. She reckons that her and Alex are going to do the Black Pathway walk this weekend.” Lucas told him. Howard felt a stab of jealousy; HE had wanted to take Mary on that walk.
“Then they’re fucking crazy, the pair of them. They’ll never make it.” Commented Howard, with a cynical laugh. “They won’t even make it to Knighton, not in the middle of winter. The walk will fucking kill them.” He went on.
“Kay and Mary were arguing about it this morning, after Mary told her what she’d got planned. Kay said pretty much what you’ve just told me, that it’s not a walk to be tackled in the winter. Mary wouldn't listen.” Said Lucas.
“Yeah, well she’ll wish that she fucking listened when her and her shit-head boyfriend are wondering around Skerrington forest in the middle of the night, lost, hungry, and shivering their bones off. Pair of idiots.” Remarked Howard.
Lucas leaned against the door-frame.
“Maybe, Howard, you could have a word with Mary? Try talking some sense into her?” Suggested Lucas.
“No. Fuck the pair of them. If they wanna go traipsing up the Black Pathway at this time of the year, then I say let them.” Howard stared at his cousin. “Don’t worry, Lucas, they won’t die up there. Well, probably not.” He said. Lucas frowned, concerned. “Hey, I’m just kidding. Most people who die on the Black Pathway snuff it up on Knighton or Hoffen Mountain. Trust me, Mary and Alex won’t get that far. When are they thinking of heading out there?” Howard wanted to know.
“Tomorrow morning.” Lucas answered.
“Stupid fuck-wits. They’ll be back before teatime.” Said Howard.
“Do you reckon?” Asked Lucas, seeking some reassurance from his cousin, who had walked the Black Pathway many times before.
“I’d put money on it. Just let them get on with it, Lucas, learn things the hard way. I fucking hate people like those two…”
“Hey, come on now, Howard, Mary’s my sister-in-law… and you don’t hate her.” Lucas said, upset at Howard’s vitriol.
“I don’t mean that I hate Mary… I just hate the attitude of people like her, and Alex, you know… they’ve got no fucking respect for nature… they think that…”
“Okay, Howard, okay. Just calm down a bit.” Said Lucas, surprised at his cousin’s anger. Howard took a deep breath.
“Sorry, Luke. It just pisses me off.” He told his cousin. Lucas gave him a bitter-sweet smile.
“You liked Mary, didn’t you?” Lucas commented.
“I don’t want to talk about her or Alex Crennell any more.” Came Howard Trenton’s ice-cold response.
Lucas stepped a little further into Howard’s bedroom. Tactfully, he changed the subject from talk of Mary and Alex, and their planned hike up the Black Pathway.
“Kay tells me that one of those coppers investigating Alfie’s death came to see you last night… to borrow your trainers?” Asked Lucas. Howard rolled his eyes.
“Yeah… it was that Tom Grogan guy. He comes across as a bit clueless.” Sniggered Howard.
“Kay told me that you’d accused him of thinking you were somehow responsible for Alfie’s death?” Probed Lucas. Howard rolled his eyes again.
“I know… stupid isn’t it? It’s just that he was asking me loads of questions, earlier on, yesterday afternoon, when I was sat outside. It made me feel really uncomfortable, Luke, like he was accusing me of something.” Said Howard.
“You know me, cousin. I’m not capable of hurting a fucking fly.” He added, for effect. Lucas came and put a hand on Howard’s shoulder.
“Hey, I know that you wouldn’t. You know what coppers are like though, it’s what they do, asking loads of questions. Don’t worry about it. I reckon that this whole intruder thing is a load of bollocks anyway. It’ll probably just turn out that Alfie died in his sleep after all. Probably from a broken heart… it was killing him, being without his cat.” Reasoned Lucas. Howard smiled up at him. And I’m going to break your heart, Lucas, when you find out what I’m really like, when the pigs come to arrest me… I can feel it in my bones… Grogan, he knows that I murdered Alfie Whitehouse. And Howard was right, for at that exact moment, at Coldsleet Police Station, Detective Tom Grogan was sharing his suspicions with another policeman called Kevin Burrows.
***
Detective Kevin Burrows was interested to know what evidence, exactly, his colleague Tom Grogan had, to suggest that Howard Trenton might be Alfie Whitehouse’s killer.
“I’ll admit, most of it is just based on a hunch. For now.” Confessed Tom. “Well, apart from those footprints that we found. Mark my words, they came from Howard’s hi-tops, but the little bastard has gone and destroyed any evidence that might have been on them.” He growled.
“We don’t even know the cause of Alfred Whitehouse’s death yet, Tom. Isn’t it a little bit premature to start throwing around accusations of murder?” Pointed out Kevin.
“Maybe, but that kid, he’s involved, somehow. Okay, I admit, we don’t know that Alfie was definitely murdered… but at the very least, Howard Trenton was in that old man’s house, and at some point recently. He’d broken in there, and for some fucking reason or other, was stood in Alfie’s bathtub. I want to know the reasons why.” Argued Tom.
“If you feel that strongly about it, haul him in, question him.” Suggested Kevin.
“What? On a hunch? The boss wouldn’t allow it. You know how fucking paranoid he is about being sued for claims of wrongful arrest… that might change though, once the results of the autopsy are in.” Considered Tom.
“And when are they due?” Asked Kevin, who wasn't working on the Alfred Whitehouse case.
“Maybe late this evening, or first thing tomorrow morning,” replied Tom, “and if those results tell me that Alfie Whitehouse was murdered, then I’ll be paying that creepy little fucker Howard Trenton a visit, post haste.” Promised the detective.
***
Howard Trenton ended up skipping college on that cold Friday in the middle of winter; he had far more pressing things on his mind. Instead, he left his home at just after midday, and wandered down to Coldsleet sea-front, slouching along the promenade with his hands dug deep into his coat pockets, gazing out at the ocean, lost in thought. It’s almost over. I can sense it. I always knew that I'd fuck up, sooner or later, and that’s exactly what I’ve gone and done, leaving those footprints all over Alfie Whitehouse’s home. I’m screwed. I thought that the old fucker’s death would just be put down to a heart attack… I mean, THAT’S what actually killed him, after all… okay, I caused it, but that’s not the point… I didn't think that there’d be any sort of investigation. I got complacent, too cocky. They’ll find my DNA, fibres, some shit like that, on Alfie’s clothing, from when I grabbed him, just before he snuffed it, and that’ll be the clincher. I’d never thought there’d be a sodding autopsy carried out on the miserable old cunt. I’ve got a day, two days at most, and then the piggies will be coming for me. I knew it would happen, one day, sooner or later… I’d have just rather it had been, well, later…
Howard Trenton reached down and picked up a pebble. He threw it out, towards the sea. On the horizon, dark clouds were beginning to roll in from the ocean. Oh, come on, give me a break… I need any bad weather that’s out there to hold off until after the weekend… snow, rain, stay the fuck away, please! Mary and that stupid shit-head Alex Crennell… they HAVE to go up onto the Black Pathway. I want to have one last bit of fun tomorrow, before I get found out.
“Is that too much to ask for?” Asked Howard, looking upwards, to the sky. “One last bit of fun. That's all I want. Kate tonight, Mary and Alex tomorrow. The three of them have fucked me over, good and proper, and now it’s my turn to balance the scales a little. Come on, God, or whatever the fuck you are… play fair, man. I’ve been wronged, I deserve some justice. It's not murder, if that’s what you’re worried about. Kate and Mary… let's face it, they’re both spiteful, shitty little whores who can’t keep their knickers on for five minutes. Alex Crennell? Well, the world will be a better place without that slimy arse-head in it. So keep the bad weather at bay, yeah? I’ll be doing your precious fucking Earth a favour, in the long run, ridding it of bad rubbish, unnecessary clutter.” Said Howard, but God wasn’t listening, and the dark clouds continued to head towards the town of Coldsleet.
Chapter Fifteen
Anita Morley handed Howard a mug of tea.
“Thanks.” He said, frowning. Anita sat down next to him on the sofa.
“What is it, Howard? You seem troubled.” She observed.
“Oh, it’s just been one of those weeks… stuff going wrong…you know how it is sometimes. One thing piling in on top of another.” Replied Howard.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Asked Anita. Howard took a sip of his tea.
“No. I can’t.” Said Howard.
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both… sorry, I’m not being awkward, Anita… it’s just private stuff. I’ll be okay.” Howard assured his friend, who gave him a skeptical look.
“Hmm, will you? I can never tell with you, Howard Trenton.” She said.
“Hey, where’s Jack today?” Asked Howard, changing the subject.
“He’s out with my mom. She’s taken him for a bus ride into Knighton. He loves going on the bus, bless him.” Smiled Anita.
“It’s quiet in here without him. You’ve got a gorgeous young son there, Anita. You should treasure every day that you spend with him.” Advised Howard.
“I do, Howard. I do.” Anita responded, as she leaned back on the sofa.
Howard fished around in his coat pocket for a moment, and pulled out a small brown envelope.
“Here, I want you to take this. It’s for you and the little fella.” Said Howard, and he handed the envelope to Anita.
“What is it?” She asked, puzzled.
“Open it and find out.” Howard replied. Anita pulled the envelope open. Inside, was a cheque. She took it from out of the envelope.
“Howard… what do you think that you’re playing at?” Mumbled Anita, staring at the cheque in front of her.
“Looking after my family.” Howard smiled, softly.
“But we’re not… Howard, this cheque is for fifty thousand pounds.”
“I know, and I want you to go down to the bank, this afternoon, and put it into your account. Do it as soon as possible. It’s yours. You and Jacks. It’ll set you up for a new life.” Suggested Howard.
“I can’t accept this. I c…” Howard put a finger to Anita’s lips.
“Hush. This is only what I would have left you in my will, anyway.” Howard informed Anita. She pulled away from his finger.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Howard? You’re scaring me.” Anita said, her voice shaking. Howard took her hand in his.
“I’m not going to be around for much longer… that’s why I want you to have this money. It won’t be any good to me. Not where I’m going.”
Anita stared down at the cheque, then back up to Howard.
“What is it, Howard? Are you telling me that you’re dying? Is that it? Are you ill?” She asked.
“No, I’m not dying, Anita… but very soon, I’m going to be in a lot of trouble, and I won’t be around any more.” Answered Howard. Anita shook her head.
“This is fucking crazy…” she whispered to herself. “What are you talking about? What sort of trouble are you in?” Anita demanded to know. Howard looked at her, feeling frustrated with himself.
“I can’t tell you. I’d love to be able to, but I can’t, and the reason that I can’t is because I have to protect you. I have to protect you and Jack.” Said Howard.
“What? None of this makes any sense… just tell me, Howard. Tell me. What is this all about?” She asked again.
“No.” Asserted Howard. He let go of Anita’s hand, and stood up. “All you need to know is that I love you, Jack too, and that, if I could somehow be a different person, then I would be, because that way, we could all be together… but I can’t change. I can’t stop being the person that I am… and I am not a good person, Anita. I’m not a good person at all. Say goodbye to Jack for me.” Requested Howard, before suddenly heading out of Anita’s living room and towards her front door. Anita stood up, to try and stop Howard from leaving. He glanced back at her as he opened the front door. “Just bank the cheque, enjoy your life, and forget about me.” He said, before departing. Anita Morley never saw Howard Trenton again.
***
Alex Crennell stood at the bar in ‘The Stagecoach’ public house, together with his friend, Gary Ackley.
“I need to ask you a favour.” Said Alex.
“What?” Asked Gary, with long blue strands of hair dangling into his eyes. Alex looked up at Gary’s flattened mohican.
“Doesn’t that get irritating?” Alex wanted to know.
“Huh?” Gary grunted.
“Your fucking hair, hanging all over your face like that.” Clarified Alex.
“It’s only because I couldn't be arsed spiking it up tonight.” Argued Gary.
“Well, I can see that, but… oh fucking hell, it doesn't matter.” Mumbled Alex.
“So, what’s this favour that you mentioned?” Asked Gary, for a second time.
“Look, it’s to do with Mary. We’re doing the Black Pathway Trail.” Stated Alex. Gary, who had been sipping on his pint, began to choke on it.
“You’re fucking joking! You couldn't do it the first time!” He laughed, taking the piss.
“Shut the fuck up, Gary.” Barked Alex Crennell, angrily.
“I can still remember the fucking state of you after we’d come down from off Knighton Mountain… talk about a sweaty, wheezing, moaning old cunt…”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Repeated Alex.
“Ah, calm down. You’re such a sensitive little prick at times.” Mocked Gary. “So, you're doing the Black Pathway, huh? When? In the summer?” He wanted to know.
“No. Tomorrow.” Alex informed his friend, which caused Gary Ackley to look at him as if he’d gone completely insane.
Gary took a swig of his beer.
“You are fucking joking, right?” He asked Alex, his face suddenly deadly serious.
“Joking about what?” Mumbled Alex.
“About doing the Black Pathway tomorrow? You’re kidding me, yeah?” Repeated Gary.
“No, I’m not kidding you.” Confirmed Alex.
“Have you lost your marbles, mate?” Gary said, querying Alex’s sanity.
“No.” Shrugged Alex. “We’re doing the Black Pathway Trail, me and Mary.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Which is why I’m asking you now, have you lost the fucking plot?”
“No, why? What’s wrong with doing the Pathway?” Questioned Alex.
‘Fuck, man, do you need me to spell it out for you?” Replied Gary. Alex didn't say anything. “Right, so you DO want me to spell it out for you… okay. Alex, hardly anybody walks the Black Pathway during the winter, apart from hardcore fucking ramblers and climbers… you know what I mean, real experienced guys. Man, I ain’t being funny, but you couldn’t cope with that walk during the summer, it nearly killed you…”
“Like fuck did it!” Interrupted Alex.
“Yeah, it did, Alex, and we both know it. So stop bull-shitting.” Gary snapped back at his friend.
