Beth’s pulse spiked.
A single bulb flickered to life – weak, amber, unsteady.
She heard a faint strain of the tune she’d heard before. That haunting, vaguely Middle Eastern melody that wormed its way under her skin.
Beth pressed a hand to her chest.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, no, no.’
A metallic clatter sounded in the coin return tray. A coin rolled out, circling, clinking against the metal.
Then the laugh. Low, gurgling. Teasing.Knowing.‘Back again? Let’s play.’
Beth’s blood froze.
The room spun. She bolted. Feet pounding, breath torn from her throat. Up the stairs, heart in freefall.
She burst through the door into the hum and chatter of the pub – warm air, human noise, life – slamming the door behind her and pressing her back against it as if she could hold the world in place.
Her pulse thundered.
Her hands trembled.
‘This isn’t real,’ she whispered to herself. ‘I imagined it.’
But her brain told her otherwise.
And somewhere, deep in the darkness below, a single bulb flickered again.
Chapter Fourteen
Kieran wrestled with the largest of the cottage’s windows. He guessed several hadn’t been opened in years, welded shut with layers of badly applied paint. And as the temperature had soared from the low teens to the mid-twenties, he desperately needed to air the place.
‘Damn it!’ muttered Kieran as he nicked his thumb on the scraper he was using to force the window open. Blood pooled in the cut and dripped on the floor.
‘Prom, fetch the first-aid kit,’ he ordered jokingly.
Prom remained sprawled on the sofa, giving his rear end a thorough licking.
‘On second thoughts, I don’t think your hygiene practices lend themselves to first aid.’
In the bathroom he found a packet of plasters he’d bought on a panicked pre-move dash to the chemist. He wrapped one around his thumb, admired the world’s saddest DIY injury, and trudged to the bedroom. It remained hot and steamy from his earlier shower because ventilation was an issue.
Kieran took a slow breath.
Against his better judgement, he’d agreed to attend the pub barbecue. A first, according to Janette.
‘I’m no’ really a fan of burnt sausages and those corn-on-the-cob things that get stuck in yer teeth, but wi’ wee Beth in charge, I’m expectin’ haute couture.’
Kieran hadn’t corrected her. Nor had Alison, when they appeared at his door waving a flyer for the event.
The Jekyll & Hyde BBQ
An Afternoon of Smoke, Fire & Dual Personalities
From the Grill
Dr. Jekyll’s Burgers– Beef patty, cheddar, whisky-onion relish
