The Party at Number 12: A totally addictive psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist by Kerry Wilkinson

Author:Kerry Wilkinson [Wilkinson, Kerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803142760
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-03-10T16:00:00+00:00

Mario’s Pizza turned out to be a place that Zack had walked and driven past a couple of times a week for at least three years. In all that time, he had barely noticed it and certainly hadn’t clocked the name.

The shop was tucked away on a small rank, next to a barber’s, something that was boarded up, a bookies, and a Londis on the end. It was on one of the routes that he would take to work if he wasn’t in a rush.

As he approached, the smell of cheese left his stomach grumbling. He hadn’t eaten all day, although he now had a bag of sandwiches and three muffins in the car.

The inside of the pizza place had a single plastic table with two lawn chairs. A menu was pinned to the window, not that Zack could read it because the glass was steamed with condensation. Another menu was in much bigger letters, high above the counter, and Zack found himself staring up at it, wondering what he should do next.

‘Can I help you, mate?’

A young lad was standing at the till and Zack doubted he was out of his teens. He had the air of someone who would much rather be doing anything else, while simultaneously valuing the minimum wage he’d be taking home.

‘Do you know who was delivering pizzas on Saturday?’ Zack asked.

The guy behind the counter stared at him, clearly expecting a query that was more related to pepperoni.

‘We can’t do refunds on anything that old,’ he replied. ‘If there was a problem, you have to call at the time.’

He pointed towards a sign on the wall that probably said precisely that, though Zack paid it no attention.

‘I’m not after a refund,’ Zack said. ‘I was hoping to talk to whoever delivered your pizzas on Saturday.’

The lad behind the counter glanced over his shoulder, likely weighing up if he was dealing with some sort of nutter.

‘Look, mate. If you want a pizza, we can do you a pizza. If you fancy the driver, I don’t think he’s into that. Actually, I know he’s not. He’s got a girlfriend and they’re engaged and—’

‘I’ll have a small margherita,’ Zack said. ‘Eat in, if that’s OK.’

The lad eyed him with suspicion before tapping something into the till and then naming a price. Zack paid on his debit card and then returned to the table while he waited.

Nothing else was spoken until the pizza was brought out about fifteen minutes later. Zack mumbled a ‘thanks’ and then sat nibbling away, while pretending to scroll through his phone.

It was probably his mood because it was hard to make a bad pizza… except that it was a bad pizza. The crust was too thick and the edges too soft. He ended up leaving more or less all the crust, while eating the rest from the middle out. All the while, he felt the silent, questioning stare of the lad upon him.

A couple of customers came and went and it was soon at the point where Zack couldn’t waste any more time.

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