Black soul rose by John Jones... - HTML preview

Jordan

120

“Will you stop banging on about it?” said Jordan to his ‘brother’.

“You never asked, and now it’s dead. D’you know how much they are? They’re not easy to buy. They don’t sell them locally round here. You haven’t even said sorry”.

“Alright…I’m sorry for murdering your stupid spider. It was Boomer that wanted to eat it, I just provided him with it”.

“Yes but you never asked”.

“You would have said no,”

“Of course I’d have said no it was my pet”.

“It’s not a fucking pet. It’s just a spider that sits there and does nothing. What’s the appeal of that?” Alistair couldn’t answer.

“It was my pet,” he said.

“As you’ve said a thousand times. I’m really really sorry,” he said sarcastically.

“In fact I’ll tell you what,” he continued, “why don’t I go and get you another one?”

“What, where from?”

“I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a dealer that can get you one. I’ll just go and meet them. He left the room, went back into his own which was still a mess from having been ‘attacked’ after Kieran had been around. When he had calmed down, he had gone back down to his parents and apologised, saying he was still upset over being lost, and over Brett. He was after all, an eight-year-old boy, so was forgiven.

There was not much in here he could use as a weapon, so went into his parent’s bedroom where he knew that in one drawer his mother kept knitting equipment for when she sometimes found the urge to knit scarves or cardigans. He retrieved an eight-inch needle, then went downstairs to shrug on his coat.

Forget saying goodbye, he thought, as he left the house, he may very well be returning later.