Screams in the Dark Read Online Free Page B

limes into tall glasses with ice and reached for a bottle of gin. ‘Let’s have a drink.’
    ‘All looks great to me, TJ,’ Rosie said. ‘But first, I’d like to jump into your shower if you don’t mind. It’s been a long day.’
    ‘Be my guest.’
    *
    Rosie closed her eyes and stood under the shower, enjoying the surge of warm water on her face. But almost immediately her mind flashed up the picture of the refugee at the Balornock flats, his face pale and haunted. It triggered a rush of the disturbing images from Kosovo that often woke her in the night since she’d come back. Her head flicked through them.
    So many bewildered people on the move. The bruised faces of men and women, battered and burned out of their homes. Before the conflict, they’d been farmers, teachers, tradesmen, shopkeepers, housewives. Now they were collapsing in front of her after trekking across the mountains, huddling together in the open as they’d fled from Serb soldiers. Some had no shoes and festering blisterson their feet. And always, always the picture of the old woman with the broken hip slumped in the bucket of a dumper that was being used to ferry her down the rocky hillside to safety, her husband limping at her side, his face grey with worry. On a daily basis since she had come home, when Rosie passed a building site she still couldn’t look at a dumper without seeing the image of the old woman in the bucket. So many flashbacks like that. She didn’t need the doctor to tell her she had posttraumatic stress. She’d been there before in horror stories across the world, and she’d always told herself to get it into perspective. She was only the witness, after all. None of the shit she saw was actually happening to her. It was happening to others. That helped her deal with the pictures, but it couldn’t make them go away.
    ‘Come on Gilmour. Scallops are in the oven, and there’s a G and T here with your name on it.’ TJ’s voice from the other side of the door broke Rosie from her reverie, and she was glad.
    ‘Two minutes.’ She stepped out of the shower, trying to shake herself out of the gloom.
    *
    After dinner they sat in the kitchen sipping red wine and smoking TJ’s cigarettes, listening to the sudden thunderstorm. Rosie gazed through the large open window as torrential rain made the tenement buildings opposite look dark and eerie.
    ‘You okay, Rosie?’ TJ reached his hand across and ruffled her hair. ‘You suddenly looked a bit dark a little while ago. What’s happening?’
    Rosie took his hand. ‘I’m okay.’ She shrugged. ‘You know me, usual stuff. There’s always something lurking in the background. I felt a bit sad today up at that Red Road protest I told you about. I saw this guy crying. Reminded me about a lot of stuff.’
    ‘Tell me about it.’
    Rosie told him about the protest, and about the intrigue over the torso, and the vigilantes. TJ listened as she set out the various scenarios of refugees going missing, lawyers hanging themselves.
    ‘So you think it’s all connected, but you’ve got nothing really to go on.’ TJ sat back watching her. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. You know how you are, Rosie. You’re choking to wade right in there.’
    She took his packet of cigarettes and handed one to him.
    ‘Gee thanks, sweetheart.’ TJ gave her a sarcastic look.
    Rosie smiled and held his hand while he gave her a light. ‘Well, maybe I am getting ahead of myself here,’ she said, ‘but I’m just trying to lay out all the possibilities. I’m not really connecting it all, but I can’t stop thinking about that refugee in tears today.’ She blew smoke. ‘Wish to hell now I’d been able to hold onto him for just a minute longer.’
    ‘That’ll drive you nuts now, till he gets in touch.’ He poured the remains of the wine into their glasses. ‘But hey. It’s Friday night. Forget about all that. Let’s open another bottle. I’ve got some news too.’
    ‘Yeah? What’s