The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,13
looked up towards Mary’s window. The light in the room flickered strangely, and at first he thought it was the flicker of a television. It took him a second to realise she must be sitting in candlelight.
He hugged himself. He still felt cold. The hoaxes had really unnerved him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. He had never been targeted for mischief by anyone.
He thought about what Heather had asked. Had they made any enemies recently? He honestly couldn’t think of anyone. With the flat-buying and everything, they had hardly seen anyone lately, apart from at their party. He didn’t think they’d upset anyone at all. It was a mystery.
He turned round and went back inside, rubbing the skin on his arms, not warming up until he was safely indoors.
Four
Jamie woke up and looked at the bedside clock, the LED numbers phosphorescent in the dark. It was half-past-midnight – or half-past-nothing, as the digits 00:30 seemed to indicate. He groaned and pushed the covers down to his waist. It was unbearably hot, even with the sash windows open as far as they would go. During the day, the temperature had hit the high Eighties, and it didn’t feel any cooler now, with the heat of their bodies adding to the humidity. The sheets were damp with sweat. His skin was slick and his hair was stuck to his scalp. He had a sudden, wonderful image of a tub of Häagen-Dazs. He would press its frosted exterior against his brow before devouring the cold, delicious ice cream inside. He groaned again.
Kirsty turned over and said, ‘Are you alright?’
‘I can’t sleep. It’s too hot.’
‘I know. And I’ve got to get up in a few hours.’ She reached out and touched Jamie’s side. ‘God, you’re burning up.’
‘I need a cold shower.’
‘Oh yeah?’ She put her hands on his chest and kissed him.
‘I thought you were worried about getting up.’
‘Mmmm.’
They kissed, Jamie running his hands up Kirsty’s back, over her bottom and hips, from the small of her back to her shoulder blades. Her skin was warm but dry, and so soft. He had spent the last two years marvelling over the softness of her skin. If somebody asked him to draw up a list of what he liked best about Kirsty’s body, the softness of her skin would be right up there competing for pole position – although, really, he loved everything about her body: the way she was slim but still endowed with curves that felt so good beneath the palm of his hand; the ever-clean scent of her; the constellations of pale freckles on her shoulders and breasts; the crescent-shaped scar on her hip, obtained during a childhood cycling mishap. He loved it all.
‘What was that?’ Kirsty opened her eyes and broke away from the kiss.
‘What?’
‘I heard a noise outside.’
Jamie sat up, reluctantly breaking contact with her flesh. He hadn’t heard anything. He had been lost in that kiss, the rest of the world fading away in a haze of arousal. He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, trying to remove the blur from his vision. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes!’ she whispered harshly. ‘I heard someone moving around. It sounded like it came from the garden.’
Jamie got up from the bed and crept over to the back window. He peeked out through a gap in the curtains, and a cool breeze caressed his face. He was still half-asleep, and he stood there for a second with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation but wishing it was Kirsty cooling him with her kisses.
‘Jamie? Can you see anything?’
He remembered where he was and opened his eyes. He peered out at the garden, and straight away saw a shadowy figure move beneath him, a few feet from the Newtons’ back door. He ducked down beneath the windowsill and looked back at Kirsty.
‘There’s somebody down there,’ he whispered.
Kirsty’s mouth formed an O and she climbed out of bed and came over to the window, walking in a curious half-crouch, her arms folded over her breasts. They knelt together on the carpet, both of them naked, as if they were offering up a prayer to some nocturnal god.
Jamie stuck his head under the curtain and looked out again. He could see the person moving around. He didn’t think they would be able to see him, but then the moon came out from behind a cloud and the garden was illuminated. He ducked down again.