Fangtooth Read Online Free Page B

They crossed the road and out of sight. Moments later, the
door to the bar opened and the figures stepped inside, bringing with them a
babble of chatter.
    “Back again, I see. What can I get you?”
Graham asked.
    “Three pints of beer,” a tall man with
blond hair said as he shucked off his coat.
    “That saltwater gives me a raging
thirst,” said a shorter man with brown hair. He slipped his circular glasses
off and wiped them on his sleeve. He breathed on them, held them up for
inspection and then wiped them again.
    “Kev, just listening to you moan gives
me a raging thirst,” said the third person, a woman.
    Bruce looked at the newcomers. The woman
had her back to him and all he could see was that she had long, wavy red hair.
He watched as she removed her coat to reveal a slim physique clothed in a blue
jumper and black pants.
    Feeling slightly voyeuristic, Bruce
looked away, caught Jack staring at him with his lips pinched tight, and his
eyes narrowed.
    “What?” Bruce demanded.
    Jack shook his head, sipped his Coke and
turned to look back out the window.
    “I don’t suppose you have a light do
you?”
    Bruce looked up into the greenest eyes
he’d ever seen. The woman smiled down at him with pale pink lips. Around her
late twenties, she had a cream complexion and her forehead was speckled with
faint freckles. Her face was narrow, her hair damp from the sea spray. She
reminded him of John Everett Millais’ painting of Ophelia. His pulse increased
and he felt hot and clammy.
    “Sorry, I don’t smoke,” Bruce said. His
face felt flushed, and he hoped she thought it was through the heat of the fire
and not his embarrassment.
    “Here, I’ve got one.” Jack thrust out a
lighter.
    Bruce scowled at his son. “We’ll talk
later.”
    “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll bring it back
in a minute.” She walked out the front door. Bruce watched through the window
as she lit a cigarette and then left it smoking in the ashtray as she walked
back inside. “Thanks.” She passed the lighter across, her gaze fixed on Bruce.
    Bruce took a long swallow from his pint
in the hope it would cool his face.
    Although he knew he should reprimand his
son for carrying a lighter, Bruce took one look at Jack’s angry expression and
relented. For the first time since Veronica’s death, Bruce had looked at
another woman with something more than indifference and it was only when he
looked down that he realised that he had purposely covered his wedding ring
with his free hand.
     

 
    Chapter 5
     
    Bruce’s mobile phone rang with an
insistent shrill. Jack watched his dad rummage in his pocket, holding the phone
up like a trophy before answering.
    “You’re here, great. I’ll be there in a
minute.” He disconnected the call. “The furniture’s arrived.”
    Jack shrugged. “And you’re telling me
because…?”
    “Because I’d like you to help.”
    “What did your last slave die of?”
    “Jack, I’m not asking.”
    “Give me a break. You can’t expect me to
help when I didn’t want to move out here.”
    Bruce ground his teeth and sighed
through his nose. “Okay, what if you have a look around and get to know the
place, then you can show me around later. How’s that sound?”
    Jack pretended to consider the idea,
then he eventually nodded. Not that he would be seen dead walking around later
with his old man. Way uncool. But if it got him off his back by agreeing, he
was game. He could make up an excuse later.
    “Right, come on then. I’ll head back to
the house and you can get the lay of the land.”
    Jack stood and followed his dad towards
the door. On the way, he noticed his dad surreptitiously stare at the woman
who’d asked for a light and he felt a cold ache in his stomach. The woman
stared back and smiled. Bruce blushed and fiddled with his wedding ring.
    A lump lodged in Jack’s throat.
    Outside he took a deep breath; could
smell the sea.
    “Try not to stay out too long,” Bruce
said before turning and