The Viaduct Killings by Wes Markin

Author:Wes Markin [Markin, Wes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2022-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

24

Cherish listened for the roar of Neil’s car engine, and then peered out her bedroom window. With her heart fluttering in her chest, she watched him drive out of Hay-A-Park estate. She’d no idea where he was going. Best case scenario: she may not see him again until tomorrow. Worst case scenario: she’d see him again in ten minutes after he’d picked up a fresh batch of rolling tobacco.

Best to be quick, despite nothing being quick when heavily pregnant.

Her mother was taking a nap in her bedroom. Mandy was a heavy sleeper at the best of times, but her afternoon gin and tonic gave Cherish an extra layer of security. This was good, as there was no point in creeping on tiptoes when she was like a small elephant. She flinched as every floorboard creaked but stayed confident that her mother was dead to the world.

The previous day, she’d heard Neil gloating over his mobile. He’d hurt someone in some way, although the details remained unclear. She’d briefly considered the possibility that it may have been Bradley, but she was unable to buy into that. Fathers, even ones as bad as Neil, just didn’t kill their children. Surely? However, whatever Neil had done, he’d pay. And paying might see her mother freed from his control.

At the end of the conversation Neil had talked about cleaning up, ‘just in case’. He’d also said, ‘I bloody loved that jumper!’

Cherish went out the back door and over to the bin. The lid had been left off, leaving the flies in their element, hovering, exploring, eating. She waved them away and looked down at the heap of bloated bin liners. The top one had been torn open– a cat, or a fox, she suspected. A chicken carcass poked through the gap. She squirmed, plunged her hands in and began to search.

A couple of bags later, she recovered Neil’s jumper.

Despite being crammed in with other waste, it was relatively clean. Her hands weren’t though, so she held the garment between her two fingers so as not to contaminate it any more.

She gulped.

Red stains.

Got you.

As she approached the house, the fear that was chewing through her already overburdened insides was replaced by a burst of excitement.

Could this be the way to free both her and her mother?

Inside, she placed the jumper on the kitchen table and washed her hands thoroughly, scrunching her face up over the thought of that chicken carcass. Afterwards, she retrieved a plastic bag from under the sink and slipped the jumper into it—

She heard Neil’s car.

Clutching both the plastic bag and her stomach, she marched across the kitchen, and into the lounge but, before she made it to the stairs, he was through the front door.

She froze. She could sense him lingering behind her.

‘Oi,’ he said.

She turned, slipping the plastic bag down from her stomach to her hip.

He had a roll-up hanging from the corner of his mouth, and a four-pack of Stella in his hand. ‘They’re watching me, you know,’ he said.

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