Creed (32 page)

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Authors: James Herbert

BOOK: Creed
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Enter Evelyn.

Creed’s plan was to stay quiet until his ex grew tired of ringing the bell and beating the knocker and stormed off to terrorize some other poor sap. But life is never that accommodating, is it?

He heard a key turning in the latch downstairs, heard the door opening, footsteps inside. Then: ‘
Saammuell!

The door slammed shut and those footsteps stomped the stairs.

Creed clasped a hand to his eyes as though a migraine had struck. Evelyn had
two
spare keys, one she’d given to Sammy, the other she’d kept for herself – no, probably, she had half-a-dozen to hand out to friends and relations.

Cally was alarmed.

He pushed himself up and went to the door in time to meet Evelyn as she arrived at the top of the stairs. She looked harassed, a little strained around the eyes and the neck but, he had to admit to himself – and despite himself – she still looked pretty good. If it wasn’t for her acid tongue and sour nature she’d still be eminently humpable.

‘Where is he?’ she demanded without pausing to catch her breath.

‘Who?’ It was the best he could do.

She raised her eyes heavenwards and pushed by him. She came to a halt when she saw Cally in the lounge; before turning back to Creed she gave her a cool, hard once-over. ‘Sorry to interrupt your bimbo-time, but I’ve come to take Samuel home. I don’t know what I was thinking of letting him come here in the first place. God knows what he’s seen going on.’ Her glare darted towards dark-blonde and denimed Cally as if
she
were a prime example of what had been going on.

‘Uh, Sammy’s not here.’ Creed half grinned and did his utmost to keep his gaze perfectly straight and entirely on Evelyn.

‘Why are you staring like a zombie? Are you on something? Good God, at this time of day. I knew I hadn’t come a moment too soon.’

‘Don’t be silly, Ev—’

‘And who’s this?’ She flicked her head in Cally’s direction. ‘No, don’t tell me, I really don’t want to know. All I want is my son presented to me right here and now. Watch my lips, Joe – right
here
and
now
.’

‘I’ll let myself out,’ said Cally, moving towards the door.


No!
I mean – no. We still have to talk.’ Creed blocked her path.

‘I’m waiting,’ Evelyn said ominously.

The phone rang.

‘I gotta answer the phone.’ Creed made as if to leave the room.

‘Stay,’ Evelyn told him. ‘This is more important. One more time now before I really get cross: Where is Samuel?’

The ringing was silenced by the answerphone.

‘Excuse me,’ said Cally as she slid past Creed.

‘No, wait.’ He caught her by the arm.


Joseph!
’ Evelyn all but stamped her foot.

‘I’ll do what I can and call you later.’ Cally slipped from his grasp and disappeared down the stairs.

‘Cally!’ Creed moved to go after her, but now his own arm was caught. Evelyn’s fingers were like a vice.

‘I’m losing patience,’ she warned in an even but deadly voice.

Cally had reached the front door and she glanced back up at him before opening it. ‘Stay by the phone,’ she said, and then she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.

Creed opened his mouth to call her back, but clamped it shut when he felt his own arm squeezed even harder. He looked deep into his ex-wife’s dark, blazing, harridan eyes and realised he had two choices: he could either faint or tell lies. Fainting, he decided, would only provide brief respite and ultimately would dump him in stormier waters anyway –
what made you faint, what have you done, what’s happened to Samuel?
No, telling lies was much easier.

‘Sammy’s gone on a school trip,’ he said.

That stymied her. Momentarily, that is. She released his arm. ‘A school trip,’ she repeated slowly. ‘But he’s not at school. He’s here with you.’

‘Ah, no. Not
that
school, not
his
school.’
Oh shit shit shit, why the hell had he said that?
‘Uh, let’s sit down? Would you like a cup of tea? You’ve had a long journey, Evelyn, you must be dry. How about a G and T? Bet you could use one.’

‘Cut the crap. What are you talking about, a school trip?’

‘Boy, I’m bushed, y’know? Looking after a ten-year-old takes it out of you.’

‘What would you know about it? You’ve only had a couple of days. So what school did he go with and what time is he getting back?’

‘Well, not tonight,’ he said quickly. ‘Oh no, not tonight. Overnight stay, y’see. He was really looking forward to it.’

‘Samuel? Looking forward to something like that? I don’t believe you.’

‘You’d be surprised how he’s changed the last coupla days. You know, come out of himself. Let’s sit down, eh?’

She allowed herself to be led back into the lounge where Creed almost pushed her into the armchair. ‘Frankly, you look as if you need to sit down,’ she said. ‘What on earth have you been up to? No, please, I don’t want to hear about your life. I made that clear years ago.’

He lowered himself on to the sofa. Evelyn’s long deep-red hair framed a face that was once pretty, but which had now matured to handsome, if somewhat shrewish. Permanent tenseness had also withered her neck slightly, creating ridges that no cream would ever erase. The long coat and skirt she wore were of a sombre maroon, as were her knee-length boots. Either her breasts had shrunk, he thought, or she had taken to wearing bras that restrained rather than uplifted; her beige blouse hardly swelled at the appropriate places. He swiftly got his mind back on the problem at hand.

‘Well, you’re looking—’

‘I told you, cut the crap. What school?’

‘It’s, uh, not actually a school. I mean, it’s a scout troop from a local school. The Boy Scouts.’

‘The Boy Scouts.’ It came as a drone. ‘Samuel has joined the Boy Scouts? My Samuel?’

‘Not actually joined. I thought he might like to try it, just for one day. Er, one night too. Camping, and all that. Maybe a few days and nights depending on how he gets on.’

‘And he
agreed
?’

‘Couldn’t wait.’

She regarded him suspiciously. ‘What the hell do
you
know about Boy Scouts and local schools?’

‘Oh no, the Scouts from the school are round here all the time, collecting jumble for charity, odd jobs for a few bob. Nice bunch of kids.’

‘And exactly what did Samuel wear for this great outdoor adventure? Surely to God you didn’t send him off in his school uniform.’

‘Are you kidding? And let him catch his death of cold? No way. I bought him a whole new outfit – boots, thick corduroys, woollen shirt, anorak. He looked the part, I can tell you.’ Creed gave a shake of his head and smiled at the centre of the room as though his son were standing there all togged up and raring to go. ‘I’ve never seen him so keen.’

‘Samuel?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah. I thought some time in the open air and getting physical might do him good.’

‘So where were they off to? In which wilderness have they pitched their tents? Not too far out of town, I hope.’

‘Where? Where? Epping Forest. Not far at all.’

‘What’s the school?’

‘You know the one. Two blocks away.’ Oh shit, he’d passed it enough times. ‘St . . . St Andrew’s. I’m pretty pleased with the idea, actually.’

She studied him for a full thirty seconds before saying anything more. Then: ‘Well, I suppose I could take his other clothes home and give them a scrub. Get them for me, will you, Joe?’

‘Uh. Uh, all taken care of. Took them off to the cleaners this morning on my way back from dropping him off. He made me promise to give you a call, incidentally, tell you how much fun he’s having. Misses you, of course.’

‘Maybe I should go out and see him at the campsite; he probably thinks I’m still mad at him. I could get a taxi easily enough, or perhaps you’d care to drive me. It’s been a long time since we took a drive together.’

For one brief, but not very compelling moment, Creed was tempted to make a clean breast of everything, to confess that their son had been kidnapped by crazies who worshipped demons and who could hypnotize you so you saw impossible things and who could frighten you so much your heart hurt your throat when you swallowed; he could have told Evelyn the truth, but that would have meant – leaving aside his own castration – hysterics, accusations, the police, and probably the worst for their son. It wasn’t worth the risk; nor the pain.

‘I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Imagine how he’d feel in front of the other kids if Mummy and Daddy showed up to see how their little precious was coping. He’d die.’ Creed regretted adding the last remark.

She thought on it. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she reluctantly agreed. ‘I’d hate the other boys to think he was a sissy. I’ve missed him so much, though. I didn’t intend to, I thought a few days without him would give me a break – God knows I needed one. But he’s my son and he’s all I’ve got.’

At that moment she looked so forlorn and lonely that Creed was almost tempted to hug her, almost tempted to pat her back sympathetically,
almost
tempted to bed her right there and then. She was still a good-looking woman, slack-breasted or not.

Evelyn caught his look and said, ‘Don’t even think about it.’ She rose from the armchair, brisk and bitch-faced once more. ‘I want Samuel home by tomorrow evening, Boy Scouts or not. Camping in cold weather like this will bring on his bronchitis and I don’t relish the prospect of waiting hand and foot on an invalid for the next few weeks. It was a bad move letting him come here in the first place – God only knows what bad habits he’s already picked up.’

‘You sent him here, Evelyn.’

‘Yes, you’re absolutely right – it was the last place he wanted to come to. I suppose I’m allowed one mistake though. Pick him up tomorrow and bring him straight home.’

If he’s still . . . all right.
It was a thought he didn’t care to voice.

‘Are you okay? You just swayed as if you were about to faint.’ Her expression was one of curiosity, not concern.

‘Tired, that’s all. Too many late hours standing on cold pavements.’

‘You look as if someone you snapped gave you more than you bargained for. What happened – you get thrown through a window? And that bruise on your forehead!’ She seemed annoyed more than anything else. ‘Isn’t it time you considered a change in career? Something more adult, maybe? To be frank, you’re not wearing too well.’

‘Yeah, I think about it every day. It’d be nice to be an accountant. Or I could sell double-glazing, how ’bout that? You always wanted something respectable for me, didn’t you, Evelyn?’

‘I wanted you to assume some responsibility, that was all. The trouble was – and still is – you could never think beyond what was good for Joseph Creed.’

‘That isn’t true.’

‘Isn’t it? Where were all the sacrifices you’re supposed to make for your kid? Ask yourself when you ever let Samuel’s wellbeing – or mine, for that matter – interfere with your lifestyle.’

‘I brought home the bread.’

She laughed, but she might as well have slapped his face. ‘You really think that that was all there was to it? My God, no wonder we didn’t last long. Did you ever take Samuel to the park to play, or to show him the ducks when he was a toddler? When did you ever sit down with him and read him stories? When did you ever wipe his little bottom, for Christ’s sake? That’s what being a father is about – those small things, some unpleasant, but mostly delightful. Tiny little moments that show you care.’

‘I’m not in the mood for this, Evelyn.’

‘When did you ever do those things for me?’

‘Wipe your arse?’

‘You
know
what I mean. You know exactly what I’m talking about, you uncaring bastard.’

‘I did lots.’

‘Make a list one day. See if you can fill the back of a postage stamp.’

He ran a hand through his hair and scowled frustratedly at the floor. ‘Evelyn, I got things to do.’

‘Of course you have. When didn’t you?’ She strode to the door. ‘I’ve half a mind to go and fetch Samuel now, just so that he doesn’t have further contact with you for a while; but no, I won’t embarrass him in front of his new friends. I want him home tomorrow though, is that understood? I’ll allow him one more day away from his proper school, then it’s back—’

‘He told me he’s been suspended for a week, Evelyn.’

She stopped in the doorway and wheeled round. ‘I warned him not to tell you that. Oh, I can see you’re as thick as thieves already. Well, I’m not surprised, not surprised at all, considering you both lie, steal and bully. Two of a kind made from the same mould. I can promise you this: Samuel is going to change. No way is he going to grow up like his father. Do you understand me? No bloody way.’

He heard the front door being opened followed by muffled voices. Evelyn’s voice reigned terror up the stairway once more. ‘
There’s another bimbo on the doorstep. Have you got the energy?

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