Darkhouse. Alex Barclay

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      ‘Hellooo,’ she said. ‘Welcome home to your wife!’

      ‘This is great,’ he said. ‘I gotta go away more often.’

      She shook her head. ‘No, no, no. Never again.’ She kissed him all over his face.

      ‘I missed you,’ he said. ‘Way too much.’

      She climbed down. ‘How did Giulio take to you leaving early?’

      ‘What could he do? He knew he’d screwed up. He always knows.’

      ‘He’s an oddball.’

      ‘I know. And I’ve got some of his genes.’

      ‘Don’t worry. I could never forget that.’

      ‘That’s going to take a while,’ said Joe, pointing to the paint stripper. ‘You have to put it on, cover it with paper, then wait a couple days, see what happens. It’s a big job for one little lady.’

      ‘Well, I’ll get some of the guys to help, if I can. But I couldn’t just hand the whole thing over to anyone.’

      ‘No,’ said Joe. ‘That would be a disaster.’

      She gave him one of her looks. Joe laughed.

      ‘I’m going out to the workshop,’ he said. ‘Petey’s waiting.’

      ‘Already?’

      ‘I know. I can always sleep later.’

      He was barely in the door when Petey started. ‘Did you ever hear how some lighthouse keepers earned extra money?’ he asked, not waiting for an answer. ‘They turned to shoemaking, prostitution and distilling. In 1862—’ He stopped suddenly.

      ‘What’s prostitution?’

      ‘Whoa,’ said Joe, searching his face to see if he was kidding. He wasn’t. ‘Uh, do you know what sex is?’

      Petey went red. ‘Yeah,’ he muttered, his eyes downcast.

      ‘Well, some men pay to have sex with women called prostitutes. That’s prostitution. I guess those lighthouse keepers were renting some of their rooms out to these ladies.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Petey and moved quickly back to his comfort zone. ‘Around Waterford, smugglers used to come ashore with alcohol, candles and building materials and the keepers would store them until they needed to sell them on—’

      ‘Even in smaller lighthouses like this one?’ said Joe.

      ‘Yes,’ said Petey, ‘they would—’

      ‘Petey,’ called Anna, waving a ringing mobile phone at him. ‘Did you leave this in the house?’

      ‘Thanks a million,’ he said, answering the call. When he hung up, he looked traumatised. ‘My mother’s driving Mae Miller somewhere. She wants company for the trip back. I always have to go stupid places with her.’

      ‘That woman needs to give him more independence,’ said Anna when Petey had left. ‘She shouldn’t be dragging him around all the time like a child.’

      It was three p.m. when Duke parked his car and headed down the main street in Tipperary town. As he stared in the window of a hardware shop, a tiny grey terrier trailing a tartan lead bounced over to him and looked up expectantly. Duke paused, then hunkered down to pet him.

      ‘Hey, little fella,’ he said, picking him up, holding him against his chest and letting the dog nuzzle him. ‘Aren’t you a beauty?’

      The owner, a young mother, rushed over with a toddler on her hip.

      ‘Thank you so much. He’s unbelievable,’ she said. ‘Nuts.’

      ‘He’s a friendly little guy.’

      ‘Don’t I know it?’ She laughed. ‘Thanks again.’

      Duke stared after them, then turned and went into the shop. Minutes later, he came out with a yellow-and-green plastic bag under his arm. He walked further into the town and stopped outside a fast-food restaurant. A group of teenagers were inside, slumped on yellow bucket seats screwed to the grimy floor. He looked up at the sign: American Heroes was printed between two stars and stripes across a faded blue background. He walked in and a buzzer sounded. The waitress glanced his way, then turned back to her notebook. Her uniform was hospital-scrubs style and strained across her back, twisting into her thick thighs. Her dark hair was scraped into ridges across her skull and ended in a dry ponytail at the base of her neck. Duke watched as one of the boys pulled her notebook down, so he could read what she had just written. He laughed.

      ‘Spell glass, Siobhán,’ he said flatly.

      ‘G.L.A.A.S,’ she said.

      They all laughed.

      ‘G.L.A.S.S.,’ he said. ‘As in ass.’

      ‘That’s just ’cos I was writing too quickly,’ she said, blushing. She went back to the counter.

      ‘As in big fat ass,’ the boy whispered, loud enough for everyone.

      The waitress stopped when she saw Duke. ‘Hiya,’ she said, awkward and eager. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

      She poured juice for the boy, then squeezed back behind the counter.

      ‘Now. What can I get you?’ she said.

      ‘Could I get a beef taco and Coke?’ Duke said, smiling as he looked into her eyes. He squinted at her name tag: Siobhán. ‘Sy-o-ban? Is that your name?’ he asked.

      She laughed. ‘It’s pronounced Shiv-awn,’ she said. ‘It’s Irish.’

      He smiled again. ‘Savawn? That’s not easy to say.’

      She disappeared into the back room and Duke sat listening to the anxious conversation behind him.

      ‘That’s not your mum,’ said one of the boys.

      ‘It is,’ said one of the girls, ducking her head under the table.

      ‘Even if it was, she wouldn’t be able to see in,’ he said. ‘I’m waving at her right now.’

      ‘Stop it! She’ll see!’ she pleaded.

      ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he said, ‘you’re totally paranoid. There’s no point in going on the hop if you’re going to be freaking out.’

      ‘Is she gone?’

      ‘Yes, seeing that she was never there in the first place.’

      ‘It’s all right for you. I’m on report,’ she said, sitting back up. ‘Which means,’ she continued dramatically, ‘I get expelled if I’m caught missing school one more time.’

      ‘Well, СКАЧАТЬ