Chasing the Dark by Sam Hepburn Read Free Book Online Page A

on the drive. Things went misty. I kept running, though my legs were like rubber and my breath wouldn’t come.
    The mist cleared. It wasn’t cops or hit men. It was an army of workmen, swarming round the house, lugging ladders up the steps, clambering on to the roof and clearingthe garden. I dodged behind a tree and watched a big blonde woman hauling some weird contraption bristling with nozzles out of a van that said Queens of Kleen down the side. A stressed-looking bloke came over and started shoving his clipboard under her nose and giving her a right mouthful. She wasn’t having it. She shouted back that all her people had been working flat out since the crack of dawn and if he wanted things done any faster he could give Mary bleedin’ Poppins a call. He stormed off and started having a go at the painters.
    I lobbed a stick over the wall and hissed at Oz, ‘Go on, boy. Fetch!’
    Not being a stick-fetching sort of dog he watched it go and went back to biting his bum. So I waved the sausage roll around and chucked that. That got him going and once he was through the gate I ran in, yelling at him to come back. He threw me a look like I should make up my bloody mind, wolfed the sausage roll and peed up the wheel of the Queens of Kleen van. I rushed over to the blonde woman, saying I was sorry about my dog and how he wasn’t used to the gates being open. She didn’t care and she didn’t want to chat. I went on pushing.
    â€˜Was there . . . er . . . anybody living here, you know, squatters or anything?’
    â€˜A few mice and spiders.’
    â€˜I couldn’t take a look around inside, could I?’
    She frowned. ‘Why?’
    â€˜My nan, she used to work here years ago . . . she’s not well. It’d really perk her up if I could tell her what it looks like now.’
    â€˜Oh, go on then – five minutes.’
    Oz cut ahead of me and made straight for the cellar. The door was open. I raced down after him. He skittered to a stop and let out a whiny bark.
    Yuri had gone. All that was left was his bedding, his old clothes and a couple of burnt-out candle stumps. I should have been punching air that he’d managed to get away. Instead I crouched on the bottom step feeling as if someone had torn out my insides and tossed them in the trash. Who cared if Yuri was a crook or a loony or even a murderer? Looking after him had filled a great big hole in my life, and now he was gone.
    I reached for his torn trousers, feeling through the pockets in the crazy hope he’d left me a note. All I found was the crumpled scrap of newspaper scrawled with the number he’d been so desperate to ring.
    Oz sat looking at me, tail sweeping the floor, like he expected me to bring Yuri back.
    I threw down the trousers. ‘Sorry, Oz. That’s it. He’s gone.’
    People were stomping into the room above, slamming doors, dragging furniture around, and I could hear Clipboard Man yelling at everyone to get a move on. I wiped my nose across my sleeve and trudged upstairs.
    Light was pouring in through the newly cleaned windows and the whole house was filling with the sounds of hoovering, banging and voices. It was strange. I felt this sudden kick of sadness that I wouldn’t be coming back.
    A younger, bored-looking Queen of Kleen with dyed black hair was having a fag by the van.
    â€˜Who’s moving in?’ I asked.
    She took a long drag and blew out the smoke. ‘Some old biddy called Norma Craig.’
    As I ran through the woods, I glanced back at the house. For the first time I noticed the carving on the arch above the gates. It was two prancing bears holding up a shield, identical to the crest on the key ring Yuri had given me. I didn’t fancy getting caught with a set of keys that easy to identify so I pushed them deep between the roots of the big oak tree by the side door and kicked a pile of leaves over the top.
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