Home Boys by Bernard Beckett Read Free Book Online Page B

the cow’s stomach, and the dead creature let out one last mighty fart.
    * * *
    Colin was awake when she came. Since the Welfare Officer’s visit, three days before, he had hardly slept. The little energy he had left was saved for planning his escape. The first parts were easy, waiting for a night like this, when Mr Sowby had gone out drinking, creeping into the house, finding his trousers, maybe stealing some food, and running off into the darkness. But that darkness was so unknown, and he was so tired, and the plans always foundered there. Perhaps Dougal was right. Perhaps he had no imagination.
    She didn’t knock. The first Colin knew the door was slowly opening and Mrs Sowby drifted in with the moonlight, glowing strangely blue and hideous. She had to stoop as she entered, the same as always, only it wasn’t normal for her to come here except with his dinner. Her hair was down, which Colin had never seen before. It was long and twisted, and in the weird light could almost have been alive. Colin sat up straight and waited for her to say something. She stayed silent, and slowly closed the door behind her. The room was dark again.
    ‘What do you want? I was sleeping.’
    There was no reply, but he heard her coming closer. He couldsmell her too, something strange and heavy, sweet more than fragrant; the sweetness of decay.
    ‘You made me sad you know Colin.’ She was so close he could feel the warmth of her words, and it terrified him.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The things you told Mr Wilkes. You told him we weren’t good to you.’
    ‘I just told the truth, that’s all. What are you doing?’
    Colin felt a hand on his knee. The grip was firm and definite, like you’d use on an animal. He realised the smell was on her breath. Some sort of drink.
    ‘I want to be good to you Colin.’
    ‘Then leave me alone.’
    She stood back and he brought his knees up to his chest, straining to see what she was doing, see if she was leaving. There was silence, thick with danger. Colin swallowed hard. He could feel beads of sweat growing full on his forehead. This was a new kind of fear. She came forward again and this time she fell on top of him, hot and heavy, breathing hard like a cow trapped in a swamp, pushing him back onto his narrow bed.
    At first Colin thought she had tripped, and tried to help her get off, but every move he made she moved against it, and he realised it was worse than that. Colin was suffocating. The heat and the smell pressed down on him, and he felt vomit rising in his throat. He squirmed to get free but Mrs Sowby had her arms around him and her hold was strong. He screamed but the sound was lost in her body. He pushed forward desperately and managed to get halfway to sitting before her weight swung back over him. She pulled him close, so his face was squashedagainst her breasts, and Colin couldn’t breathe well enough to cry.
    She pulled him up, and closer still, and rocked him backward and forward, as if he was an infant. Her voice vibrated its way down her body, muffled and distant.
    ‘He thinks I blame him you know. I don’t. I don’t blame him at all. It was an accident. A dreadful accident. He didn’t always drink Colin. Not like he does. Before it happened, he was different. We were different. We never meant it to be this way. I’m sorry Colin. I’m sorry. I miss him. I miss him so terribly. He’d be your age now you know.’
    Her voice gave way to sobbing, and her grip loosened enough for Colin to think this might be finished. But then somehow she was on him again, her mouth was at his neck, kissing at him, and her hands were clawing at his leg, and there was a dumb groaning coming from her throat, the sound of a wooden bridge giving way to the weight it was asked to carry. Let me be dead, Colin pleaded to the world. Just let me be dead.
    And the world was listening, and took him halfway, or he passed out and dreamed, or he became numb and all that remained was the world he wanted to