Mesmeris Read Online Free Page A

time,’ he said. ‘Next time, I may not let you off so lightly.’
    As he disappeared around the corner, I smiled. Next time, he said.
    There was going to be a next time.

CHAPTER FOUR
    All was quiet when I opened the front door. Great! I could sit in my armchair and relive the kiss. No such luck. I pushed the living room door open to find Dad and Uncle Jim having a cup of tea.
    ‘Oh.’ Too late to back out without being rude, I went in.
    Jim sat, as he always did, in Dad’s chair, where he had a clear view of the street, and anyone coming to the front door. Never off duty, always the detective, he liked, he said, to ‘keep an eye out’. What exactly he kept ‘an eye out’ for, he never said – random gangsters and drug dealers, no doubt, who might wander off the street into the vicarage by mistake.
    He raised his eyebrows. ‘Been busy after school, have we, Pearl?’
    I felt myself flush, gave him my best sarcastic smile. It had no effect on his obvious enjoyment. If anything, it seemed to enhance it.
    Dad handed me a cup of tea and I flopped into my favourite armchair, the one covered in gross, faded floral fabric. I tucked my knees up, hugged myself, and tried to block out Jim’s boring voice. Delicious shivers went through me as my tongue examined the inside of my crushed lips.
    I caught Jim watching me, eyes narrowed, so decided to think about something else. My gaze roamed over the mishmash of chairs, tables, lamps, bookcases, cabinets, all jostled side by side in the cluttered room. Not one thing matched another. Dad called it an eclectic mix. Lydia and I called it ‘dead people’s furniture’.
    Jim’s eyebrows wobbled as he talked and I thanked the Lord he wasn’t a blood relation. He had a sort of ginger thing on his upper lip that wasn’t quite a moustache but certainly wasn’t designer stubble. And his teeth - they were revolting, with greenish fuzz where they joined the gums – yuk!
    He was waffling on about work as usual – not exactly riveting stuff. I managed to block his words almost completely so that only the occasional word registered. The name Howard Pitt stood out because I felt sorry for him, having such a pants surname.
    ‘Heard of him, Luke?’
    Dad frowned. ‘Can’t say I . . .’
    ‘Call themselves Mesmeris. Heard of them?’
    Dad shook his head. ‘Been a while since I . . .’
    ‘Load of nutters, if you ask me.’ Jim took a long slurp of tea. His lips quivered, slapped against the liquid as it went in. I clenched my teeth.
    Dad caught my eye. He wanted to laugh. I could see it in his eyes but he was far too polite to do so. Jim liked to talk, and Dad was one of the few people he could safely confide in. Dad said listening was the least he could do. Jim had a difficult job and Jim was a good man. Good man maybe, but boring as hell.
    ‘Your area of expertise,’ Jim said.
    That caught my attention. Dad’s area of expertise? As far as I knew, that consisted of visiting old biddies and waffling on about Jesus.
    ‘Told you that PhD would come in handy one day, didn’t I?’ Jim said.
    PhD? Dad had never mentioned having a PhD in anything
.
    Jim went on. ‘Rumour is they’re moving in around here. Nice of them to grace us with their presence, eh?’
    Dad nodded, gave him a wan smile.
    ‘Just keep a look-out,’ Jim said. ‘Strangers, you know - odd-looking sorts. That boy you were with, Pearl.’ He fixed his nut-brown eyes on me. ‘Don’t think I’ve seen him before. New to the area, is he?’
    ‘Mmm,’ I stood up, not in the mood for one of his interrogations. ‘Better get on with my homework.’
    ‘Crikey,’ Jim said. ‘You’ve got ‘em well trained, Luke. Keen to do homework? How d’you manage it?’
    ‘Discipline.’ Dad hid his smile behind his mug, didn’t look at me. ‘Strict discipline.’
    ‘Good for you,’ Jim said.
    My grin faded as I left the room to see Lydia banging down the stairs, trailing a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. She’d