Flesh and Blood by Nick Gifford Read Free Book Online Page A

open.
    Feathers. White, grey, matted a foul, dark red. A slim red beak, half-open, a fly crawling about in the empty gape.
    It was a seagull, dead for several days, judging by the state of it, and the smell.
    Matt looked at his mother. How could she accuse him of this?
    She was staring at him, still trying to be understanding. “Where did it come from?” he asked.
    “It was there when I came in a few minutes ago,” she said. “You really should know not to do something like that.”
    “But...” There was no point arguing. She was never going to believe him: she’d already made up her mind that he was guilty. The more he protested his innocence, the more understanding she would try to be.
    He gathered up the bag, overcoming a wave of nausea as he did so, and headed out of the room.
    ~
    He hurried out through the conservatory and into the back alley, continually aware of the thing in the bag. He turned left in the alley, and moments later was standing on the pavement of Bay Road, wondering what he was going to do.
    It had to be Tina, he knew: trying to drive them away from Bathside. Maybe it would work, he mused. Maybe his mother would be so worried about his mental health that she would want to get back to Norwich as soon as possible.
    An old man, passing along the pavement, peered at Matt and wrinkled his nose up in disgust. Matt had grown used to the foul smell, forgetting how strong it was.
    He crossed the road and walked along the top of the grassy cliff.
    After a short distance, he came to a bin and, relieved, he dumped the plastic bag inside.
    His mother was waiting back at the bed and breakfast.
    “Guess what?” she said, more relaxed now, trying to smile.
    He raised his eyebrows, still angry at her false accusation.
    “Dinner with your aunt and uncle for a change.” She studied his expression, then added, “I knew you’d be pleased.”
    ~
    A familiar scene: Gramps slumped silently in what had become his armchair, the girls sitting cross-legged on the floor slaughtering animated foes on the TV, Matt sitting at one end of the sofa staring out of the window.
    For a time, he watched the back of Tina’s head, hating every movement. Eventually, she turned and smiled at him. “Has Aunty Jill had enough yet?” she asked. “Are you going back to Norwich?”
    Matt stood up and walked out of the room. How do you handle someone like Tina? What could he possibly do that would get through to her? He remembered Vince saying that it was like living in an asylum. Matt knew exactly what he meant.
    ~
    That evening, after they had eaten, Gramps said, “Air.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “I need air.”
    Carol rose to her feet instantly. She put a hand on her father’s arm and said, “I’ll take you for your walk.” Every evening someone would take Gramps for a slow walk around the garden.
    But tonight he shook off her hand. He looked at Matt and said, “Matthew, my boy. Join me?”
    Surprised, Matt nodded.
    It was quite cool outside now, a breeze coming in off the sea. As Matt waited on the patio, holding the door for his grandfather, a pair of small bats flitted about the eaves of the house.
    “The moths come for the honeysuckle, the bats come for the moths,” said Gramps. He waved in the direction of the honeysuckle that scrambled over a trellis on the back wall. Matt was surprised that his eyes were still sharp enough to see in this murky twilight.
    They walked slowly along the patio, Matt unsure whether he should offer his grandfather support or not. He chose not to, and just walked close to him.
    “Like Bathside, do you?” asked Gramps. “The sea? The beach?”
    “It’s okay,” said Matt.
    Gramps nodded. “Your mother doesn’t,” he said. “She’s not happy, although she tries to hide it. Never liked this place. Couldn’t wait to get away from here when she was a girl – took the first chance she could. Never liked to come back, even to visit. We make her uneasy.” He smiled sadly