Читать книгу TOUCH: A DI Charlotte Savage Novel - Mark Sennen, Mark Sennen - Страница 12

Harry lay on the bed feeling the alcohol slither through his veins and watching the ceiling rotate above him. The plaster ceiling rose with the bulb hanging on the twisted wire went one way and the corners of the room went the other. After a while they each slowed down and almost synchronised before going in opposite directions again. Stagecoach wheels in cowboy films came to mind. He closed his eyes to remove the dizzying effect, but that only served to make him think about what he had done and what he had become.

Harry thought it was the blood that pushed him over the edge. The blood from Carmel had poured over his hands warm and sticky, the metallic taste still there days later when he’d absent-mindedly bitten a nail. He’d washed and washed but in the end figured memories took more than just soap to erase. He also blamed the pills. They had done evil things to him he was sure. When he stopped taking them he had flipped. And that was Mitchell’s fault.

He opened his eyes and watched the ceiling rose spin round again. Thought of roulette. Not Russian, the other type. Where you won stuff. He’d never won anything. That really didn’t seem fair. He remembered the woman he had seen on the TV. The lawyer. She’d talked about fairness. Maybe he should try and get her phone number. He could give her a call. Maybe she could help. Maybe she even wore stockings.

Poor Harry, do you expect me to feel sorry for you?

Jesus, it was Trinny! Harry pulled a pillow over his head and chewed his tongue. He thought he had dumped her and shut her up for good, but somehow she was back. What the hell?

There is no peace, Harry. Not for you and not for me.

No, he understood that. Sunday night hadn’t worked out as it should have and Trinny wasn’t at peace because he hadn’t been able to leave her where he wanted to. There had been too many people. Cars parked around the green, a huge pyre of burning pallets, hot drinks being served from the church and children running everywhere. A stupid bonfire night being held a few days early. In the end he found somewhere nearby. It was quiet and secluded, but at the time he thought it hadn’t been right leaving her in the dark little wood.

Right? The whole thing wasn’t right!

No, but his desire had been uncontrollable. Evil. Not his fault. Which was why he needed to find someone like the girls who had looked after him when he was a kid. The ones who held him close. He had never wanted them. Not like that.

Harry. Let me tell you about the birds and the bees. Something happens when you get older …

Harry ignored Trinny. When you got older you got wiser and when you got wiser you stopped taking the pills. It was then he started to see them. Everywhere. He would catch sight of Trinny at the bus stop. The lovely Carmel serving in Starbucks. Lucy crossing the road and running into college, the naughty girl late for a lecture no doubt. And it wasn’t only those three, it was the others as well: Deborah, Emma and Katya. It was a miracle how they had all appeared. The pills must have hidden them somehow, but they were there all along. Waiting.

Crazy Harry!

Crazy. Sure he was crazy, but he also knew what he was seeing. The trouble was that the girls on the street didn’t look right. Bits of flesh poked out everywhere and they wore make-up. Not good. Not clean. But there was one place he’d worked where the girls knew how to care, how to cuddle, and from the clothes they wore Harry didn’t think they were likely to be dirty either. He began to spot familiar faces there too. He’d go home and look at the old pictures and then he would begin his observations and tests. If the girls were really lucky he might take it one step farther.

Like you did with me?

Yes. He discovered Trinny some months back. She had been the first he had collected and he’d got it a bit wrong. There had been a misunderstanding.

And I was half naked. Was that a misunderstanding?

He wanted a few more pictures, wanted her dressed like he remembered.

Something else as well.

When her clothes slipped off he had seen the curves. He needed to touch them, feel them, stroke them.

Fuck me, more like.

No. That was the last thing he had wanted to do.

But you did.

Yes. Afterwards. When the girl had been quiet. When she had gone through the cleaning process and he knew she hadn’t been right.

And all that was Mitchell’s fault?

Mitchell had dragged him into his little circle of depravity and from then on in he had been slipping downhill. Actually it was like he was plummeting now. Freefall. Groundrush.

Drag, Harry? I don’t think the police would see it that way.

Of course they wouldn’t. Because they wouldn’t make allowances for his sensitivities. And the police didn’t know Mitchell and his way of twisting everything to his own advantage. That was how Harry had got involved with him in the first place. Mitchell had spotted Harry on the Hoe with his camera and guessed what he was doing. He followed Harry into the shopping centre and watched him take upskirt shots on the escalators. Mitchell had confronted him and sprung his trap.

At least his time with Mitchell made him realise about the other type of girls. The sluts. The ones struggling on Mitchell’s bed may not have been begging for it, but they knew the risks. They went out for the night with their flesh on display, just waiting to be touched.

Touched, Harry? They were raped.

Like he had been.

You expect sympathy? After what you have done?

Harry knew that it wasn’t his fault, that somehow, somewhere, everything had got all mixed up. Wrong. Broken.

So what are you going to do to fix things, Harry?

That was a good question. Harry pondered it for a few minutes. He had tried to fix things with Trinny. Only that hadn’t worked out and he’d had to get rid of her. There was also the little matter of Lucy.

Juicy Lucy! That slut! She makes me look like a nun.

Lucy had come back from the past the same way as Carmel and Trinny had so he had collected her too. He couldn’t risk losing her in the way he had lost Carmel. Now she was tucked away downstairs. Safe. The sad thing was that she was just about the same as Trinny. Dirty.

I told you, Harry. And the new girl will be no different.

Emma. Sleeping upstairs.

Thinking about her made him smile. The time with her on Monday had been such fun. They chatted and joked like old friends. He suggested a drink and they talked some more. She laughed and giggled and giggled and laughed and began to get a bit confused. After that she started to look a little tired and he had offered to take her home.

She accepted.