Read The Former World Page 14


  I regretted it as soon as I said it. Connor looked mad, just as mad as he had at the book club. Probably more so, as this was the second time I’d stupidly brought it up.

  “Nothin’. Just stay away from ‘im, OK?”

  I didn’t know what to say, but my drunken mind reminded me that I didn’t like being told what to do. “Stay away from him? You honestly think I want to have anything to do with a pathetic old man like him?”

  I immediately felt bad for calling Norman pathetic; I blamed the alcohol for that, too.

  “Don’t assume that.” He pointed at me as he said it, before lowering his hand quickly when he’d seen what he’d done. He still sounded angry, but there seemed to be a slight edge of concern to his voice now as well.

  “Assume what?”

  “That he’s pathetic. He’s not as harmless as he looks.”

  I put my glass down on the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course he’s harmless!” The cocktails were definitely taking effect now, and I let my mouth run. “And not only that, he’s still so depressed over the death of his wife that he doesn’t seem to care about anything anymore, apart from maybe football and drinking. He’s pretty much just waiting to die. Why that should have any bearing on you, I have no idea.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. And believe me, there’s plenty he cares about. Plenty he cares far too much about.” The words weren’t particularly frightening, but the look on Connor’s face when he said them sent a shiver down my spine. Maybe I’d made a big mistake by coming here.

  “Connor, just tell me what’s going on. You can’t know that much about him, you’ve only just arrived. I don’t know that much about him and I’ve lived here all my life!”

  He shook his head as an ugly smirk crossed his face. “You see, that’s the problem. Everyone here is so wrapped up in their own little weird world, you can’t see the wood for the trees. Ghost dogs and creepy figures jumpin’ over the rooftops are the norm here? No wonder you don’t notice when somethin’ is actually goin’ on. It takes an outsider to see…” he faltered and shook his head, as if trying to clear a thought away.

  I leaned in closer. “It takes an outsider to see what, Connor?”

  He looked straight into my eyes. “Just forget it, Beth. This doesn’t concern you.”

  That pissed me off. If it didn’t concern me, why say all those cryptic things to me? I drained the last of my cocktail and stepped down off the stool, wobbling slightly as I did. “Fine, whatever. I was just trying to have a friendly conversation, make you feel welcome. But if nothing concerns me then I won’t make the effort in the future. Thanks for the cocktails.” I know it was rude and pathetic, but, yet again, I blamed the alcohol.

  I turned towards the door and started walking out, glancing over my shoulder as I muttered an annoyed, “See you around.” I was glad to see that he looked more surprised than angry now.

  I carried on towards the door and walked out into the much-needed fresh air.

  ***

  I started walking home but stopped when I got to the Main Street crossroads. It wasn’t even three o’clock and I felt more than a little tipsy, and more than a little pissed off. But more importantly, I felt a kind of satisfaction.

  I’d wanted something to distract me from the disturbing thoughts that were forming in my mind and I’d definitely done that; Connor’s reaction to my questions about Norman had given me something else to think about. I considered walking around the record shop or hanging out in the art gallery until Will finished his shift, but in the end I just decided to go straight to the grocery store.

  As usual, it was extremely quiet. I often wondered how the place made any money. About ten years ago, everyone came here for their weekly food shop, but now most people went to the nearby shopping centre to get everything they needed. I also wondered how they could afford to keep Will employed, when he never really seemed to be doing any work.

  This time I found him on the till. I could hear some people talking from behind the staff door but no one was on the shop floor.

  “Hey, not stealing any money I hope?”

  He looked up and smiled at me, then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Powers, are you drunk?”

  “I wouldn’t say drunk…”

  He raised his eyebrows at me.

  “OK, yes I would.”

  Will shook his head in mock anger. “Unbelievable. So you’ve been getting drunk while I’ve been slaving away here…”

  I cut him off. “Slaving away? Really?”

  He pretended to look hurt. “So, are you OK? I was worried about you after the funeral.”

  I really didn’t want to get into that now. “Will?”

  “Yes, Miss Powers?”

  I hesitated, not quite knowing how to broach the subject. “Do you think people who live around here are… inherently… odd?”

  “Odd? Well you certainly are.”

  “I’m being serious! Do you think there’s a reason people are driven to… oh I don’t know, get drunk in the middle of the day?”

  He laughed as he looked at his watch. “Small village boredom, I guess. Where’s this coming from?”

  “Oh nothing, just something Connor said.”

  He looked up inquisitively. “Connor? Since when have you been speaking to him?”

  I grabbed a chair from the other till and moved it next to Will. “I went into Cocktail to apologise for my behaviour and ended up staying for a few drinks.”

  “Aha, that explains your state. So what do you think? Is he dodgy?”

  I glared at him. “Not dodgy, just… well, I apologised and we talked for ages, I told him all about the area and all the local legends and Fright Fest and everything. Then I mentioned Norman.”

  Will looked at me in despair. “Well that’s a good way to apologise. Mention the thing that pissed him off in the first place.”

  “That’s the thing… sure, he was annoyed. But not like before. He told me that Norman wasn’t just a pathetic old man and that I should keep away from him.”

  “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Who knows! Then he started going on about how everyone round here can’t see the wood for the trees and that it takes an outsider to see…”

  Will waited. “To see what?”

  I shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. He told me it didn’t concern me and then I got pissed off and left. And came here.”

  “You’re right, there’s definitely something going on there.”

  “You think?” He nodded. “Good, I do too.” What exactly, I had no idea. I looked at my watch. “What time do you get off?”

  “At four. But it’s been totally dead for the past hour, I’ll see if I can leave early. Wait here.”

  I watched as he wandered off into the ‘Staff Only’ area and it was only a few minutes before he returned, a big smile on his face. “Let’s go!”

  “I’m not getting you in trouble, am I?”

  “Nah, my boss isn’t as evil as yours.”

  I laughed. “Lucky. So can we go somewhere?”

  “Yeah, are you sure you’re OK? What happened earlier…”

  I interrupted him. “Look, I just want to forget about it, please? I’ll be fine.”

  Will didn’t look convinced as we walked out of the deserted shop and onto Main Street.

  ***

  We spent the rest of the afternoon in the woods, of all places, and I’d resolutely avoided looking down the side of The Pit as we’d passed it by.

  It turned out that Will was even more of a hobo at heart than I thought; he had a favourite place where he went to chill out on his own and listen to music on his ridiculously old CD player (it seemed 21st century technology had completely passed him by).

  It was near enough to the main castle path so he couldn’t get lost, but far enough away from it so he wasn’t usually seen by my dad or any castle visitors walking up the track.

  It was a cold day and the sky was filled with large
, feathery clouds, but occasionally there was a sudden glimpse of intense blue. I was already longing for summer and we hadn’t even started with the harsh English winter yet. At least the cocktails were keeping me relatively warm.

  We both sat on the ground against a large, looming tree and I looked up at the sky. My view was obscured by tree branches but I could still see the wispy white of the clouds passing by. It was calming here, and I could tell why Will liked it so much.

  The main topic of conversation was, of course, Connor and Norman. I told Will exactly what Connor had said (or what I could remember of it, anyway), and we were now trying to figure out what he could possibly have meant.

  “Maybe he knows Norman from before somehow.”

  I shot a disbelieving look at Will. “In Dublin? No, Norman never leaves the village.”

  Will nodded. “Or maybe Connor’s been here before?”

  I shook my head. “If he’d been here before, people would know, people would talk about it. Someone like Connor doesn’t exactly blend into the background.”

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Why doesn’t he blend into the background?”

  I sighed, trying to put this as nicely as I could. “Well, he’s tall, dark,” Will already didn’t look impressed, “and maybe slightly more handsome than… some of the guys around here.”

  Will made an odd noise that sounded like a ‘Pah!’

  “Plus, you know, his accent and everything.”

  “Assuming that all the other females in this village share your shallow views on Connor’s… looks… then, yeah he’d probably get noticed. But why think anything of it when there are loads of other tourists around?”

  “Why are you so sure Connor and Norman already know each other?”

  Will shrugged. “The argument Rach saw sounded pretty full on. What would they have to argue about if they’d just met? There has to be some history there.”

  I thought back to Connor’s unexpected behaviour at the book club and the bar. “Or just a fiery Irish temper. I’ve got no previous history with Connor, and yet we’ve already had two arguments.”

  Will thought about this for a few seconds, looking at some distant tree. “Yeah, but you’re ten times more annoying than Norman; who wouldn’t want to argue with you?”

  A cheeky smile spread over his face and I punched him on the arm. “Remind me why I’m hanging out with you again?”

  His smile stopped as we both remembered why, and I made a mental note to kick myself later. There were a few seconds of silence while I thought of something to break it. “So, Norman and Connor. Maybe they do know each other… maybe they met online or something.”

  I smiled as Will laughed at the thought. “Norman, a silver surfer, loose on the net? Now that would be scary.”

  ***

  We’d been talking non-stop for about an hour when I slid down the tree, now resting more on the ground than anything, and sighed.

  “Maybe Connor doesn’t know anything, maybe he just hates me for some reason and it amuses him to mess with me.”

  I felt uncomfortable with my head still propped up against the tree so I gave in to my sleepiness and just lay out on the forest floor. It may have been cold and dirty but at least it was dry. I sighed again as my head spun slightly from the quick movement mixed with the after-taste of the fruity cocktails.

  “I wonder what it was like to live here a hundred years ago.”

  Will sniggered. “Where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know… just hanging out here, in the woods, in the quiet, we could pretty much be in any time period. I can’t see any modern buildings, can’t hear any car sounds, there aren’t any planes… it’s kind of cool.”

  It was good to get out of the main village and just relax. Look at things from a different perspective. See the wood and not just the trees. We needed to think outside the box; I just didn’t know how.

  Will interrupted my thoughts. “Exactly. Although I usually listen to loud rock music when I’m here.”

  “On that crappy CD player? I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart by now.”

  “Alright! Not all of us can afford all the mod cons, OK?” He was smiling but there was a sting of defensiveness about his tone of voice.

  I decided I’d better change the subject. “I mentioned the local legends area of the library to Connor, he seemed really interested in all the stories.”

  “Oh yeah? Which ones?”

  “The evil doctor, mainly. I told him about Renfield’s ‘Poison Punch’.”

  Will looked down at me. “Did you also tell him how awful Poison Prescription were?”

  “No… I was trying to make the area seem interesting, not crap. What else… he found the ghost dog funny, I told him about the toy mascot they have in the library. Creepy nuns, Spring Heeled Jack…” I stopped short.

  “You were trying to promote the village and you mentioned that stupid kid’s story?”

  I thought back through the cloud of seductive strawberries. “No! I didn’t!” I sat up again and leaned against the tree trunk. “I didn’t mention Spring Heeled Jack at all.”

  Will looked vaguely annoyed that I wasn’t explaining myself. “So…?”

  “Connor did, though. When he said ghost stories were the norm for us, he mentioned a figure that jumped over the rooftops. I’d mentioned loads of stories to him but I didn’t say anything about Jack.”

  Spring Heeled Jack was a fairy tale, which as far as I knew, appeared in various forms in many of the towns and villages in the area. I read the book on Covershire’s version of the legend way back in primary school and didn’t remember much about it. It was basically a mysterious figure who ran along people’s rooftops at night and let out a maniacal laugh while doing so. Thinking about it now, it was quite a striking image - especially if you heard the story when you were about six years old.

  Will shrugged. “He probably heard it from someone else, what’s the big deal?”

  I looked at him, annoyed. “Come on, Will. Out of all the horrible stories around here, Spring Heeled Jack is probably the most ridiculous. No one believes it, it’s just something to scare kids into going to bed when it gets dark. You read it in primary school and then you forget it. No one dresses up as Spring Heeled Jack at Fright Fest, there’s no Jack-themed food and no floats dedicated to him. Connor seemed surprised when I started telling him these stories; he had no idea the village was so… interesting. So how did he know about that small, insignificant story?”

  All of this came out in a jumbled stream of consciousness, and Will still looked confused. “I have no idea.”

  “He knew about Spring Heeled Jack, he must have known about the more familiar stories. Evil Doctor, Murder at the Castle, Ghost Dog. He pretended he didn’t know any of them. Why?”

  Will shrugged again. “You think this actually has something to do with why he hates Norman Carter?”

  I hadn’t, not until Will had said that. “Yes! Think about Norman in the pub, surrounded by all those visitors. He…”

  Will cut me off. “His stories!”

  I nodded as I leaned forward, getting more excited. “Connor could easily have heard them from Norman, all he’d have to do is sit in the pub with a pint for half an hour while Norman sat there scaring the tourists.”

  “If that was the case though, why lie to you about it?”

  I paused, trying to think; this would have been a lot easier if I’d been sober. I sunk back against the tree again. “I don’t know, but he’s hiding something.”

  Will nodded slowly. “I’ve never heard Norman mention Spring Heeled Jack. Hell, I haven’t heard anyone mention that story for years.”

  I thought back to a few months ago when I was in the library; I’d tried to flirt with one of the librarians so he wouldn’t give me a late fine for a book I’d borrowed (it hadn’t worked). The people behind me had been talking about local legends. “I have.” I looked at my watch: it was past five. “Damn it.
I’m working tomorrow, but are you free the day after?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  “Good. Will you come to the library with me?”

  “You want to get a copy of ‘The Secret of The Abbey’?” He laughed at his stupid joke.

  “No… I think we should visit the local legends section. I want to see if they have any books on Spring Heeled Jack.”

  Chapter Five

  The next evening, I was enjoying having the house to myself and watching a girly film in the living room when someone knocked on the door. Chick flicks were a guilty pleasure of mine; only Veronica knew about my penchant for movies featuring conventionally good-looking men and cheesy storylines.

  I paused the film, then thought twice and stopped it completely before going to see who it was. For a brief moment I thought it might be V, but I quickly realised how unlikely that would be.

  I opened the door, nearly jumping when I saw it was Connor.

  “Hi Beth! Hope you don’t mind me droppin’ round.”

  I actually stuttered. Never before in my life have I had a stutter. I mentally kicked myself. “N-no problem. Er, how did you know where I lived?”

  “Because I’ve been followin’ you since I got here.”

  I could feel my mouth dropping open as I took a step back.

  The handsome idiot started laughing. “Got ya! Sorry, Beth, I was just being an eejit. I couldn’t resist.”

  I laughed, hoping to sound casual and carefree, but I could already feel my face burning. “Right… do you want to come in?” I hoped he hadn’t come to yell at me some more, but I couldn’t deny I felt flattered that he’d come to see me. I thought of all the other female residents who would have killed to have Connor Maguire turn up on their doorstep and tried to hide a smile.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  I stepped back and let him into the hallway before closing the door. I could see him examining the house: the kitchen through the door to the left, the stairs straight ahead, the door to the living room on the right. He walked straight through the latter and sat down on the sofa. I was so glad I hadn’t left ‘The Broken Kiss’ paused on the screen that I didn’t even mind his directness.

  He looked up at me as I entered the room. “Actually, I asked Rach where you lived. I wanted to contact you but realised I didn’t have your number or anythin’.”

  I sat down across from him. “So… why didn’t you just ask Rach for my number?”