Blood on the Bar by Iain Rob Wright

Author:Iain Rob Wright [Wright, Iain Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SalGad Publishing Group
Published: 2018-06-19T22:00:00+00:00

Little sense of time existed in the alleyway, which was why they could have been searching an hour for all Lucas knew. They had found nothing. They were getting fed up. Tense.

“I’m still starving,” said Shirley. “I would kill for a big, fat greasy cod and chips.”

Jake groaned. “Ah shit, Shirley. Don’t talk about food.” He licked his lips. “I would go for a curry down the Spice Mill. You know that place down Gavin Hill?”

“I would have a big fat steak,” said Simon, rubbing his tummy. “Cook it myself.”

“Big surprise there,” said Jake, squeezing the man’s biceps.

“I would have my mama’s Zemiakové placky,” said Vetta dreamily.

Shirley scoffed. “What on earth is that?”

Vetta frowned as she apparently worked out an explanation in English. “It is... potato pancakes, yes? Lots of garlic, dough, spices. My mama make it all the time back home. It was my papa’s favourite. Remind me of being little girl.” She looked sad. “I miss home.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “You ever planning on going back, Vetta?”

“Why? Because people like me should go back from where we come?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I just think it must be lonely, that’s all. Being away from your family. I… can imagine.”

Vetta let her shoulders drop out of their guarded stance, but she seemed a little teary as she spoke. “Lonely, yes. I want to go home long time now. I come to UK to escape unhappy memories and to send home money, but I think it was mistake. I am not wanted here, and I feel alone. I miss my mama and my little sister. I think now I will not see them again. Never did I think I would die here, in a place that is not my home.”

The conversation faded, and they resumed searching, but only half-heartedly. “It’s useless,” said Simon eventually, saying what they were all thinking. “I can’t find these bags of yours, Lucas.”

“I don’t think they’re here,” Lucas was forced to admit. “Damn it. At the moment, all we have is a big pile of rubbish.” He leaned against the wall and felt a pinch against his leg. He pulled the object out of his pocket and held it in his palm. “Oh, and one of the nails used to crucify Christ. A novelty item at best.”

“It has to be of some use,” said Jake. “Why else would Julian keep it in a safe?”

“I don’t know.”

“You still don’t think Julian is Jesus?” asked Shirley. “He does look a little… Arabic.”

“I don’t know who he is,” said Lucas, squinting. “But I’m getting there.”

Vetta tapped him on the arm. “What do you know then? Think, Lucas.”

A noise sounded at one end of the alley, the end closest to the shopping centre. It was a bin tumbling onto its side and spilling its contents. This time, Simon hadn’t kicked it over.

Shirley yelped. “Oh God! It’s one of those things.”

“Time for round two,” said Jake, stepping into the middle of the alleyway with his fists clenched.

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