Fangtooth

Chapter 5

Bruce’s mobile phone rang with an insistent shrill. Jack watched his dad rummage in his pocket, holding the phone up like a trophy before answering.

“You’re here, great. I’ll be there in a minute.” He disconnected the call. “The furniture’s arrived.”

Jack shrugged. “And you’re telling me because…?”

“Because I’d like you to help.”

“What did your last slave die of?”

“Jack, I’m not asking.”

“Give me a break. You can’t expect me to help when I didn’t want to move out here.”

Bruce ground his teeth and sighed through his nose. “Okay, what if you have a look around and get to know the place, then you can show me around later. How’s that sound?”

Jack pretended to consider the idea, then he eventually nodded. Not that he would be seen dead walking around later with his old man. Way uncool. But if it got him off his back by agreeing, he was game. He could make up an excuse later.

“Right, come on then. I’ll head back to the house and you can get the lay of the land.”

Jack stood and followed his dad towards the door. On the way, he noticed his dad surreptitiously stare at the woman who’d asked for a light and he felt a cold ache in his stomach. The woman stared back and smiled. Bruce blushed and fiddled with his wedding ring.

A lump lodged in Jack’s throat.

Outside he took a deep breath; could smell the sea.

“Try not to stay out too long,” Bruce said before turning and jogging away.

Jack didn’t watch him go. He looked across at the harbour where the small group of teenagers huddled against the wall. He checked if his dad was out of sight, then he pulled the packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his hooded top and lit one up. He inhaled deeply. He had been dying for a cigarette after being stuck in the car for hours.

Cigarette in hand, he pulled his cap down lower to shield his eyes, and wandered across the road. It was embarrassing being a newcomer in the village, and he was damned if he was going to walk across and start talking to the group.

Disinterested, he skipped over the harbour wall and sat on the edge of the quay, pretending to look out to sea. He had chosen to sit close to the group of teenagers, but not too close. He dangled his feet over the edge, the water’s surface below marred by a multicoloured pool of petrol. With the tide out, water dripped from some form of outlet pipe further along the wall.

Despite the usual blue depiction of the sea in postcards, here it was green. Small, choppy waves crested by white foam splashed against the harbour entrance, but within the harbour itself, the surface was virtually flat.

“Who told you you could sit there?”

Jack flicked ash into the sea. The speaker sounded like a teenager, but Jack didn’t look up to see. He knew they would goad him, but he wasn’t worried. He could handle himself. He had a green belt in Judo, though if anyone ever asked, it was black.

He took a drag on his cigarette.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Jack exhaled and turned to look at the speaker from under the brow of his cap. The boy standing beside him looked about sixteen. He had a spotty face and shoulder length hair that, by the look of it, only helped make his acne worse. He was dressed in green combat trousers and a sweatshirt bearing the Nike logo. On his feet, he wore a battered pair of Converse trainers.

“It’s a free country,” Jack said.

The lad spat on the floor. “Not here it isn’t.” He looked back at his companions, two teenage girls, as if for support.

Jack swung his legs away from the sea and jumped up. The boy took a step back. They were both about equal height at five nine, but the other boy probably outweighed him by about twenty pounds. He had learned never to underestimate an opponent, but he figured if it turned nasty, he could bowl the boy over. He let his body relax so he would be as supple as possible.

By the looks of them, the two girls weren’t interested in starting any trouble, but he knew that if it came to the crunch, camaraderie would probably spur them to help.

“Well, I’ve finished sitting down now, so you’re welcome to it.”

The lad licked his lips. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“No, but if you want a laugh then look in the mirror.” One of the girls chuckled.

The boy scowled. Jack saw him clench his fists and his heart started beating faster. He took a deep breath, tried to calm down.

“Come on Rocky, he’s got every right to sit there,” the girl that had laughed said as she wandered across. She had an orange and white striped beanie hat pulled down on her head; strands of short blonde hair jutted from underneath. Two dimples accentuated her rosy cheeks and she had pouting lips. She folded her arms across her chest, the sleeves of her blue top pulled down to cover her hands. She smiled at Jack, accentuating the dimples.

“Stay out of it, Jen. This is between him and me.”

“Come on Rocky, leave it.”

Jack couldn’t help grinning. Rocky!

“You find something funny?” Rocky snarled.

Jack dropped his cigarette and stubbed it under the heel of his trainer. “Funny enough.”

“Knock it off,” Jen said as she placed herself between Jack and Rocky.

Rocky puffed his chest out. “I’ll knock something off. His block.”

Jen shook her head. “If you want to hit someone, hit me.”

“Don’t talk stupid.”

“Well then, cut it out.” She turned to Jack and fixed him with her clear blue eyes. “My name’s Jen. Are you here on holiday?”

“Jack.” He nodded his head in the direction of the house. “I’ve just moved here. House on Millhouse Lane.”

Jen visibly blanched. “No way,” she said, drawing out the words.

Jack pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Something I don’t know?”

“You mean you’ve never heard?”

“Heard what?”

“That house. The one you’ve bought. The last people who lived there disappeared. No one ever heard from them again.”

“Right.”

“No, really. Tell him, Rocky.”

Rocky nodded. “She’s right. It’s been up for sale for years. Everyone says it’s haunted. People around here call it the Mulberry Triangle. Rather you than me.”

Jack chewed his lip. Were they being serious?

The other girl hurried across. “You’re really living in the Triangle house,” the girl said. She had brown hair tied in a ponytail and a pert little nose that twitched like an inquisitive rabbit’s.

“Well, we haven’t moved in yet. Only got here today.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard the story. It was in all the papers. A man and wife and their two kids.” She fingered one of the many earrings in her ear as she spoke.

Rocky grinned. “Well it’ll save me the job of kicking your ass when you disappear.”

Jack shrugged. “Do I look bothered? So I’m moving into a derelict house, so what?” Nevertheless, inside he felt a knot in his stomach. They couldn’t be serious, could they? But so what if they were. There was probably a good explanation.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” Rocky said. “Anything you want on your gravestone?”

Jen. Jack kept the thought to himself as he forced a laugh. “You’re a real joker.”

Rocky put his arm around Jen and pulled her in close to his side. Then he made a show of kissing her. Jen pushed him away.

“Quit mauling me,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Rocky narrowed his eyes and glared at Jack, and then he grinned like the cat that had gotten the cream.

Jack was disappointed Jen was Rocky’s girlfriend. For a moment there, he’d thought living here wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well, it’s been fun,” Jack said. “But I’m going to have to fly.” He turned and started walking away.

Rocky shouted after him, “Don’t you mean, die?”

It wasn’t until Jack turned and gave him the finger that he realised his hands were shaking.