House Rules by Chris Haxby

Author:Chris Haxby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2017-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Joe’s death

The River Swale descends in a series of cascades near Thwaite. East Gill Force was the first waterfall Joe visited and his eyes were wide and shining. An excited “shrike, shrike” call came from a chestnut-backed bird perched on a nearby blackthorn bush and Joe continued through a field of buttercups. The path twisted and turned as the open land gave way to a copse of trees, and Joe walked on. In Kisdon Wood, the leaves on the top branches rustled in a very light breeze and created a dappled effect, while dense undergrowth covered the floor of the wood in a multi-coloured carpet. The river below wasn’t in flood, but the level was still high, and Joe went and stood on a large slab of rock above the gushing and foaming water. A bird suddenly rose and screeched as it flew low over the river, and a feeling of excitement cascaded through his body.

‘It’s a dipper,’ shouted Joe joyfully. ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw one of those.’

At the same time, Ronnie stood behind the old church and waited. He had the demeanour of a gunfighter, and patted the knife in his chest pocket fondly. The birds in the branches of the trees overhead watched and turned their heads in a series of jerky movements, and a red kite hovered on a current of wind overhead.

‘You know what I’m about to do, don’t you,’ said Ronnie.

‘Squawk, squawk,’ they replied.

‘Yes, all in good time.’

Ronnie Piledriver gave them a last glance and turned his gaze to the path. It was an anxious wait, but Biff Blewitt rang to tell him he was ready, and a few minutes later Joe came into view. He was looking at all the flowers in the hedgerow as he continued his slow walk up the path, and Ronnie scowled back.

‘You’re about to take your last breath of air and you’re acting like a child on a field trip,’ he whispered to himself. ‘What on earth is wrong with you?’

Ronnie Piledriver glanced at the birds again, mainly out of courtesy, and wheeled behind a long line of hedgerows and hawthorn bushes. He bent his back and approached Joe from behind on tiptoes, and in one fluid motion plunged the knife into the side of Joe’s body, just below the rib cage. Blood immediately spurted out from the deep wound like water from a broken pipe, so he withdrew the knife and grabbed him, and took out Joe’s wallet from the inside pocket in one simple movement as the car pulled up alongside right on cue. Ronnie opened the back door and threw Joe nonchalantly onto the back seat, and his look even implied scorn as Joe shivered like a tree caught in a sudden gust of freezing cold wind.

‘It hurts, doesn’t it,’ he said matter-of-factly.

Blood dropped harmlessly onto the sheet below, and Joe’s black eyes briefly gazed back, but he lost consciousness almost immediately and Ronnie went and sat down next to Biff. Ronnie

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