‘I said it’s cool, man. Wouldn’t want to get in the way.’
I switch the phone to my other hand. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I hear the hardness in my voice.
‘Nothing,’ he says, the noise in the background making him shout. ‘Why are you getting so defensive?’
I can’t deal with this right now. ‘If you want to say something, just fucking say it, Cormac.’
He swears under his breath. ‘Mate, you need to chill. Like I know you’re going through a lot but—’
‘Oh, just leave it. I have to go see my dad.’
‘OK, Jesus. OK. I was just—’
The line crackles and there’s another screech. ‘What the…?’
I stop. ‘What’s happening. Cormac?’
The line thuds as he walks. ‘Nothing, it’s just these fucking crows. I swear there’s like a hundred on the street here. Anyway, just do whatever you want with Paul.’
I freeze. My eye catches a movement on a lamppost above me. A crow’s eyes narrow on mine.
I grip the phone. ‘Cormac, go home.’
‘What?’ He laughs nervously.
The crow stretches its wings, eclipsing the sun. Blocking the light.
‘Cormac. I’m sorry, just trust me. Run home, now. I’m coming to talk to you.’
His breathing is heavy. ‘Michael, stop freaking out. We’re good.’
‘Run!’
The screeching down the line is sharp. Metal on metal. ‘Fuck’s sake, OK, I’ll head back now. Can you tell me—’
The crow above me screams and the pain is blinding.
‘Just get home!’
‘OK,’ says Cormac. His footsteps echo down the line as he starts to run. ‘I won’t be long. See you…Oh fuck.’
There’s what sounds like a screech of tyres on the line. ‘Cormac?’
A loud crack echoes above the screams of crows. No, not crows. A car horn.
Someone shouts as a car door slams.
‘Cormac! Cormac, are you there?’
The line goes dead.
‘Cormac!’
I run.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cormac is lying on the sofa when I burst in. He’s wrapped in a blanket with a plaster on his forehead, his cheek scratched and blood-smeared. Aunt Sheila is pushing his hair back to check for more damage.
