He leaves the house at around 4...  4:30.
Tapping his anorak pocket to see how many sweets are left.
Slipping his keys around his fingers and whistling through his teeth.
It is Tuesday.
He takes the back lane behind the shops even though it’s not really quicker.
but more to avoid being seen by the teens outside the newsagent.
He feels strangely good. Free day is that not carrying a bag or going anywhere in particular.
And as he looks down at the key ring of a naughty rat in sunglasses and baseball cap,
he smiles.
And by the time he hears the screams from behind him,it is too late.
He waits until the quizzes finished before he rinses his cup.
He likes the quizzes.
He likes the girls who don't present them but somehow facilitate the male presenter and push up bras.
But because he’s lingered.
He 's lingered to see if the guy from Birmingham is as shifty as his eyes letting him to believe.
He’s late.
And as he swings out of the drive,the radio playing some kid’s tune,he thinks “If I just put my foot down.”
She’s just nipped to the shops,literally just nipped.because she’s left the pan on and everything when something doesn’t feel right.
Someone wrong is watching her.Too many eyes.
And even though she is looking around, there is nothing to see.
Jimmy at the counter.
The fat man buying flour.
But through the window something tingles.
A man,
head down,
skipping into the street.
The car.
The scream.
The swerve.
The children...