Scare Me Read Online Free

Now, he was uncertain. Libby didn’t have a clue about motherhood or what lay in store for her.
    He followed Carla’s gaze to the bobbing cork in the pond. Evening pink reflected in the dark water. “Is it our fault? Should we have been stricter?” He knew it wasn’t the first time he’d said it to Carla and certainly not to himself. “If I’d been here more...”
    â€œAnd what were we doing when we were in our late teens?”
    â€œBut we were sensible. We knew about consequences.”
    â€œHow can we possibly lecture Libby about consequences?”
    She was right. Jessie had been completely unplanned.
    They’d both quickly got used to the idea of having another baby in the house, even though Libby was almost an adult. She’d been as excited as they had. They were still trying to fill the void of a joy that never came home.
    â€œSo….” She cocked her wrist. “It’s 7.22pm on our last night alone. How much longer are you going to leave me in these clothes?” She raised her chin slightly as she waited for him to answer.
    Will tried to keep himself in shape. Morning runs along the South Bank and the nervous energy he expended during office hours saw to that. When was the last time he’d been alfresco naked though?
    Carla watched his mild panic with amusement. “Libby’s not back until early tomorrow morning.” Mischief glinted in the green pigment of her eyes. She took the glass out of his hand. “Summer house if you’re bashful.”
    She got up and started towards the hexagonal structure they’d constructed at the edge of the pond five summers ago. They’d sat outside it on many a warm, family barbecue evening. Libby had appropriated it as her teen hideaway for the past couple of years. She’d hung so many chimes and mobiles of coloured glass from the ceiling you could scarcely stand up in there. For all Will knew, it was where she’d conceived. It was theirs again for tonight and he knew Carla had recently stashed her obsolete CD collection in there. She unclipped her hair as she mounted the steps, her red locks dropping to her shoulders.
    Will scraped up a stone and aimed it at the cork. It missed, but shivered the pink clouds on the water. He knew he’d get melancholy if he stared into the pond for too long. When was the last time the three of them had been together?A dull throb at his abdomen interrupted the thought. Another ulcer?
    Scott Walker’s voice oozed from the open double doors of the summer house. No Regrets . She’d found the CDs. It was Carla’s favourite Walker Brothers album. He got to his feet unsteadily. Not even a whole glass down and he was already lightheaded. He was such a cheap date. Will followed the sound, to where Carla was waiting.
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    The crab scrabbled its broken claws against the rusted sides of the empty paint pot, its remaining legs fighting for purchase as it circled its prison. Will looked down at its fractured, dark blue shell and the pinkish white flesh exposed through the cracks.
    It wouldn’t escape. The pot was too deep. But its pincers scraped off peelings of the coating of white paint that clung to the walls as it frantically tried to scratch its way out. Rain fell hard on Will’s scalp, but he was transfixed by its energy.
    He often saw the crab between sleep and waking, felt the droplets pummelling his head as he watched it.
    The scraping continued even as he opened his eyes. He looked at the digital display of the clock beside the bed, but the numbers were blurred. The mobile phone beside it vibrated brusquely and filed at the bedside table. He snatched it up.
    â€œWhen did you last google yourself, Mr Frost?” A female asked the question and the timbre of her voice had the forced cordiality of a wake up call.
    â€œLibby?” The pall of sleep was slowly tugged from Will’s brain.
    â€œKiss, kiss, kiss,” she added and