The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,71

the rest of the night, trying to work out if he was losing his mind.

Kirsty went back to bed and Jamie went into the bathroom. He felt too lazy to stand up so he sat down and peed. Just as he finished he saw a fat spider scuttle across the carpet. He jumped up, grabbed it and threw it into the toilet, flushing it away. He quickly decided that he wouldn’t tell Kirsty about it. He knew she would imagine it clinging to the pipes, resisting the flush, then crawling back up while she was sitting there.

Yes, best not to tell her.

Jamie woke up feeling relieved that he didn’t have to go to work; pleased that he had booked an extra day’s leave. He had, to his surprise, fallen asleep quite quickly after returning to bed, but only into a shallow sleep. He lay just beneath the surface of consciousness, jagged thoughts and dark music looping inside his head, preventing him from sinking into deeper sleep, where he wanted, and needed, to be.

As he lay in the light of morning, his eyes shut, trying to re-enter sleep, he felt Kirsty get out of bed and go into the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, then the sound of her cleaning her teeth. He knew she had been sick, as she was most mornings. She came back to bed and went back to sleep.

Jamie left her in the bed. He needed to get out, to get some air to clear his head. His body felt like a boxer’s the day after a big fight. He felt like somebody had squirted a tube of glue through his ear into his brain, and his thoughts were sticking, sluggish and clogged. He dressed and went out for a walk.

There was a small park nearby. He bought a newspaper and a coffee in a polystyrene cup and sat on a bench. He flicked through the newspaper, not really taking any of it in, and listened to the children in the distance, playing on the swings and slide, scaring themselves giddy on the roundabout. Mothers wandered by with pushchairs and prams. Jamie imagined himself and Kirsty coming to the park in a few years with their own child, sitting on a bench and watching him or her joining in with the other children. He wondered if he and Kirsty would hold hands as they sat watching. Would they still be in love? His own parents merely tolerated each other, staying together ‘for the sake of the children’. Now those children had grown up and left home, they stayed together out of habit and fear. Whenever he spoke to his dad he complained about his mum; his mum did nothing but slag off his dad.

No, he and Kirsty would never be like that. They would be together forever. And stay happy. He stroked his wedding ring, rotating it on his finger. Kirsty might be up by now. He ought to be getting back.

Heading up the road towards the flat, he saw Chris and Lucy in their car.. He stopped dead and watched as they parked outside the flat and got out. Lucy was in her nursing uniform. Chris was wearing a smart suit. They loitered beside the car for a few moments, apparently in no hurry to go inside. Jamie saw Chris looking at his car and he had a sudden vision of Chris taking out his keys and scratching it, or bending down and slashing the tyres.

He felt a surge of anger – as if Chris had actually done it – and he broke into a run. Within a split second he stopped himself running, lurching to a halt before he had taken a full step. He felt foolish, his heart pounding, his cheeks full of colour. Had the Newtons seen him? No, he didn’t think so. They were going inside now, Chris dragging his hand along the top of the wall. Lennon sat there and Lucy paused to stroke him, the cat pushing his head hard against Lucy’s fingers.

The image had been so real. He had actually seen Chris scratch the car, slash the tyres. He had seen an evil grin on his face, a dark malevolent glint in his eyes. He shook his head to clear the mental imprint of the image and waited until he heard the Newtons close their front door before walking on.

Before going inside he checked his car. Not a mark on it and the tyres were fine. Shit, he