“Bullshit,” said Damien. “You’ve just shit yourself at a dog or something.”
Harry nodded, actually agreeing with Damien for once and finding the sensation strange. “It was probably just a stray, stressed out by the weather. I’m sure it’s unpleasant out there for anyone, dogs included.”
Harry watched patiently as the teenagers seemed to calm slightly, although both kept glancing back at the door, presumably to make sure nothing was trying to get in. After a couple minutes, the boy got himself up off the floor and put an arm around the girl, pulling her away from the door. They spoke between themselves for a moment but were too quiet for Harry to make anything out. Boyfriend and girlfriend, he supposed, before asking them, “Beer?”
This seemed to be just the ticket as the two youngsters started smiling. Yet, despite them relaxing, Harry couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable lump ascending in his throat, rising with the bile from his stomach.
It tasted like dread.
###
Jess watched the elderly man come from behind the bar with more blankets. Beside him, a huge, greasy-skinned man had a shopping bag filled with food – sausage rolls, chicken, ham, and stale-looking bread. The faint smell of meat made Jess’s mouth water as the blankets and snacks were handed out amongst the group.
“You say it was halfway between a Great Dane and a bull?” Kath asked her, sneering lips stuffed with porkpie.
Jess couldn’t believe it when she’d found Kath at the pub. A spiteful part of her had hoped the old bag had gotten lost in the snow. Jess made a mental note to find out where Peter had gone when she had opportunity to ask. It wouldn’t have surprised her if Kath had left him in the supermarket to guard it overnight in the freezing cold. Kath had it in for Peter more than she did Jess.
Kath cackled at her. “Well, bull is exactly what it is, young lady.”
“Yeah, as in bull-shite!” said a voice from somewhere else.
Jess sneered at the person who had spoken. “You’re Damien aren’t you?”
Damien’s face lit up. “You’ve heard of me? Well I guess you’d be a fool not to have.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You’re the dickhead that gets high on smack and then tries to buy beer from the supermarket after licensed hours. Then, when you get refused, you start causing trouble – knocking stuff over and threatening staff – most of which are female. Basically acting like an immature little boy. Same as you are right now.”
Damien’s smug expression dissolved into anger. The flesh in his cheeks changed from primrose to burgundy. “You better watch that mouth sweetheart. This is my pub and–”
“Actually,” said the barmaid lady (Jess thought she’d heard her name was Steph). “It’s my pub tonight, Damien, and we’ve all agreed to get along. That includes you, too, sweetheart. Don’t poke the natives!”
Jess nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just been a bit of a head-fuck tonight.”
Damien smiled and held up his beer. “I forgive you, but only cus you’ve got a fit ass.”
“She’s like sixteen, dude! How old are you?” Jerry obviously took exception to the comment; he eyeballed Damien with suspicion.
Damien sneered. “You want to call your dog off, sweetheart? I was only being polite. Besides, I’m twenty-one, mate, what’s the issue?”
Jess turned to Jerry, hoping to show as much disapproval on her face as only a young woman her age could muster. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Jerry, and, for everyone’s information, I’m seventeen - almost eighteen, in fact.”
Jerry stepped closer and spoke in a hushed voice. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m aware of this tool and he’s bad news; a right wannabe gangster.”
“I know,” she whispered back. “Everyone is aware of him, which is why you should just stay out of his way. He’s dangerous enough on a normal day, let alone on a night where everything’s gone to hell. Let’s just finish our beers and try to stay out of his way till the morning when we can try and get hold of help.”
Jerry nodded and re-joined the group who were resuming their position in front of the fire. Despite covering herself in several layers of blankets, duvets, and coats, there was no doubt in Jess’s mind that it was getting colder.
“So, lass,” said a handsome man with an Irish accent, “with a somewhat calmer mind, do you want to give us your yarn about the furry beast you say you saw outside?”
Jess didn’t answer and instead looked quizzically at the other man, the one who’d offered to help her up off the floor when she’d first arrived. He was handsome too, but had a withered tiredness to his face.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said to her and smiled. “Lucas always speaks like that. You’ll get used to it.”
Jess laughed. “Oh, well, I guess it was like you all said: Just a dog or something.”
Lucas frowned. Somehow his expression was clear to her despite the lack of light. “Come now,” he said, “if that was what you thought at the time then you wouldn’t have burst in here screaming like a blind banshee. At the time, you thought you saw something. What?”
Jess was hesitant, nervous at the thought of bringing it all up again after she’d just managed to calm herself down enough to convince herself it hadn’t happened. “I er…I really don’t know. It was all so confusing.”
“It wasn’t a dog,” Jerry spoke up. “I’ve seen a hundred different breeds of dog and there’s nothing even close to what we saw tonight.”
The others switched their focus from Jess and listened to Jerry as he continued. Don’t tell them, Jess was thinking. They’ll think we’re both bonkers.