Two years earlier, following the death of their father, the brothers had shared a drunken evening together. But what should have been a celebration of their dad’s life ended up as something completely different, with Matt confessing to a list of conquests since he had married Sandra twelve years before - including when she was pregnant with Jack. To Ben - eternally faithful Ben - this was unforgivable.

  An argument ensued, resulting in the elder Reilly immediately distancing himself from his younger brother. In the event of the affairs coming out (as one day they surely must) Ben’s knowledge of them would put him at odds with his sister-in-law as well as his nephew and probably Katie as well. Going forward there would still be contact between the Reilly brothers but they would never be as close as they had been.

  He’ll never change, thought Ben. Of the two of them, Matt was always more of a ladies’ man. He had an effortless devil-may-care ease around the opposite sex that they seemed to find irresistible. Despite being less academic and less articulate than his older brother Matt definitely had a way with the women - the key to it all being his undeniable good looks. He was taller than Ben, more muscular and with a ‘weathered’ look that came from working outside all year. There was no doubt in Ben’s mind that there were still more tales of bored housewives or lonely divorcees that he had yet to hear about.

  -ping!-

  The lift opened at the ground level, revealing a polished marble floor leading to a wide reception area. Katie was already there as expected, at the head of a growing queue of people preparing to check out. She looked fantastic in those boots and jeans, thought Ben, especially her perfectly curved bum. Then he chuckled. There were at least two other men in the queue also admiring her backside but trying their damndest to disguise it from their partners. Leaning over the broad counter at the receptionist, she turned around as Ben approached from the side still wearing a smile.

  ‘All good?’ she asked, oblivious to the admiring glances from behind. He nodded and handed her the keycard which she passed straight to the receptionist. Then he stole a glance along the queue line, noticing that the two voyeurs were now deliberately looking in the opposite direction. ‘Won’t be a sec’ Katie added. ‘Just waiting for a receipt.’

  The receptionist finished typing on her keyboard and stared at her small display screen. ‘There we are’ she said, sighing in relief. ‘It’s just printing now. Sorry for the delay, Mrs Reilly. Our system’s being a bit temperamental this morning.’

  Ben moved to one side, placed the luggage down and unfolded the newspaper, barely noticing a small girl in blonde pigtails staring up at him from alongside her parents in the queue. His mind was on the newspaper headline. In bold, black print, it simply said: ‘ON THE BRINK?’

  Biting his bottom lip, Ben skimmed the sub-heading and the subsequent paragraphs, taking in fragments of news about an increased terrorist threat.

  ‘Looks bad, doesn’t it?’ said Katie, slipping her purse back into her handbag and craning her neck to read the front page. ‘Think they’re just scaremongering?’

  ‘Mmm? Maybe. Bloody hope so.’

  Ben flicked through another few pages as Katie looked at her watch.

  ‘Next train is in about twenty minutes’ she said. ‘If we miss it we’re going to have to wait a while for another one.’

  ‘Okay’ answered Ben, folding the newspaper up and placing it on the edge of the counter. Then with a wink at the little girl he picked up the luggage and headed toward the revolving door exit with Katie just behind him.

  In a bathroom three floors up, in the middle of brushing his teeth, seventy-three year old Derek Merton’s heart suddenly stopped beating.

  He dropped his toothbrush and gripped the basin, staring at his own horrified reflection in the bathroom mirror. Knees buckling he slipped to the floor, falling and cracking his skull hard on the tiled surface. Somewhere in his final blurry moments he could hear his wife screaming as he rolled over and clutched a clawed hand to his chest. Then, with a spike of pain and one final deep exhalation, he slipped away.

  The pacemaker had been fitted six months ago. It was supposed to have given him a new lease of life.

  Something had stopped it working.

  ~ 2 ~

  Out on the busy street Ben shooed away Katie’s attempts to help and hoisted the holdall onto his shoulder. With his other hand he dragged the wheeled suitcase click-clacking over the pavement.

  ‘Wish you’d let me take one’ she said, squinting as the April morning sunshine flickered into her eyes. The next moment a large flock of birds passed overhead, throwing the street briefly into shadow.

  ‘I can manage’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  Seeing a gap in the slowing traffic, the couple crossed Wilton Road and entered the train station.

  As Katie followed her struggling husband she found herself unable to suppress a smile. Despite Ben’s constant need to take charge his birthday weekend had been a success, and that had been due entirely to her meticulous planning.

  His work commitments meant that a weekend away could never be a complete surprise, but at least she had been able to persuade him into taking time off in the first place. After that, all she had to do was to arrange accommodation and book tickets for a Progressive Rock band that he liked; one of those ‘fifteen-minute song’ bands! As soon as that was done the rest of the weekend had taken care of itself.

  Walking through the busy concourse she found herself looking at him with warm affection. There was no doubt that his grey temples had become a little more obvious in recent years and his mid-section slightly less firm, but this was still the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. His brother Matt might be good looking, but as far as Katie was concerned she certainly had the better Reilly.

  Suddenly, Ben stopped sharply as a portly woman and her equally rotund husband cut across his path, the former running over his foot with her trolley. They bustled past without even acknowledging his presence, leaving him standing with his mouth ajar.

  ‘No, that’s fine’ Ben said sarcastically as they headed off toward a sandwich bar. ‘Don’t mention it!’ Then he turned to Katie, shaking his head. ‘Some people...!’

  Katie rolled her eyes. ‘Hey mister, don’t let it wind you up.’

  Ben sighed and nodded slowly. Then he looked over toward a small coffee shop next to the sandwich bar. ‘Do you want to grab a drink for on the way back?’

  Katie considered the question. She could do with another coffee but on the other hand she was wearing a crisp white blouse that was destined to be spilled on. Her mind was made up as she noticed a queue of six people being attended to by one pimply teenager who was struggling with his till. ‘No, come on. Let’s just go. The train’s in the station already.’

  As they passed through the ticket barrier she noticed Ben looking in the direction of the overweight couple and took her chance to snatch the handle of the suitcase, leaving him with the holdall. ‘I can wheel it’ she said, cutting his protests short. ‘Don’t want you straining yourself, old man!’

  Ben Reilly stood there for a second, shaking his head as she strolled off along the platform. His scowl suddenly changed to a smile. There was no doubt about it; she seemed to have a knack of being able to soothe his annoyances. It was uncanny; almost superhuman.

  As they took their seats on the train Ben removed his jacket and pushed the luggage into an adjacent alcove while assessing his reputation for being a ‘bit of a moaner’. It was a reputation that in all honesty he knew he probably deserved.

  The undeniable fact was that certain things annoyed him - actually, lots of things - and top of the list was other people. As such, it came as no surprise to Katie when they had to walk past the first four carriages of the train to find the least occupied one, even if it still contained contain three giggling teenagers at the farthest end.

  ‘Shall we keep going?’ asked Ben, hovering above his seat.

  Katie shook her head. ‘Christ. At this rate we’ll end up walking all the way home! It’ll be fine. Anyway, it looks like we’re the lucky ones today. Did you see how many delays there were with the other trains?’

  He huffed and nodded before sinking into the seat opposite her; positioning himself to see all the way down to the end of the carriage. Seconds later a muffled PA announcement began to reel off station names, followed by a beeping noise as the electronic doors closed.

  Ben’s eyes wandered to the window and out at the adjacent platform. Among the increasing number of waiting passengers there was a blonde-haired girl with pigtails. Ben recognised her as the little girl from the hotel lobby, but it looked like she was crying. Holding on tightly to a small teddy bear, she stared up at her parents who seemed to be arguing over something. Ben leaned closer to the window, trying to lip read them, but a moment later the train juddered and began to move off, leaving them to fade away in the distance.

  ‘Have you got any reception?’ asked Katie.

  ‘Hmm?’ Ben turned away from the window. ‘Oh, hang on, I’ll check.’

  Drawing the phone from his pocket he quickly examined the display. The signal strength barely registered, showing only one bar. A small box across the screen read ‘no service’.

  ‘Well, that’s crap’ he said.

  ‘I know. Mine’s the same. I was just going to give mum a ring, let her know we had a nice time. Doesn’t matter. I’ll call her when we get home.’

  Ben slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked down the other end of the carriage at the only other occupants. The trio of teenagers - two boys and a girl - were still giggling at each other like idiots. The smallest (and youngest) was a scruffy-haired, grubby-faced boy who looked about fourteen. The eldest was the other boy (probably his older brother), tall and muscularly built but still only about nineteen. And then there was the girl; potentially pretty but wearing way too much makeup, dressed in a boob-tube top and ridiculously short skirt. Ben guessed that she was the older boy’s girlfriend (as declared by his possessive arm draped over her shoulder).

  Ben sighed, closed his eyes and reclined back in his seat as the train gathered speed. Though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t shut out the constant sniggering coming from the other end of the carriage.

  For him this journey could not end soon enough.

  ‘Fuck off!’

  Ben stirred quickly, woken from a light snooze by raised voices. Katie was staring at him but broke away, sighing and rolling her eyes as he sat up and looked past her toward the teenagers. The youngest of the three was protesting about something, grasping for a phone that the older boy was holding out of reach.

  ‘Come on Gaz, just get rid of it, please’ he begged, while the girl leaned back in her seat and chuckled behind her hands.

  ‘Shitty pants’ she said, cruelly.

  Ben’s eyes narrowed. He gave Katie a sideways glance and tried to piece together a likely scenario. Clearly something messy had happened to the kid - something toilet related. Ben concluded that he must have eaten something bad and ended up regretting it, whereupon his ‘ever-so supportive’ mates had recorded his troublesome bowel movements for later ridicule.

  Ben yawned and looked out of the window at the countryside speeding by. Somehow he had dozed off through the initial station stops and now they were well on the way to their destination. That was the good news.

  The bad news was that they would probably be sharing the rest of their journey time with the teenagers from hell.

  ‘Won’t be too much longer’ whispered Katie, guessing his thoughts.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  Three minutes later, almost as if they were testing the couple’s level of patience, the trio ramped up the tension as one of their phones began to play music.

  But not just any type of music...

  Loud enough to be more than just a minor annoyance it was also rap, and Ben hated rap. The volume and explicit lyrics were disturbing enough, but then the three youths began to lurch around the carriage as if they were on a drunken binge in Malia.

  Ben’s knuckles whitened. Katie noticed and touched his leg.

  ‘Shhh. Leave it.’

  ‘They are taking the piss’ he hissed through clenched teeth and then looked up and down the carriage. ‘Why are there never any bloody guards on these trains when you need them..?’

  ‘Don’t let it get to you...’

  Ben sighed for the umpteenth time and bowed his head but in one respect it was already too late, for Katie was annoyed now too. She was annoyed that their weekend away was in danger of being spoiled on the journey home.

  True, Ben let things get to him much more than they should; the problem was that whenever he tried to do something about it - it was usually him that came off worse. There was the time he confronted a queue jumper in a fast food restaurant, or the time he stepped in to stop a man roughing up a woman outside their local pub. On both occasions he ended up taking a beating, spending the night propped up in a chair in A&E with his head tilted back and tissue over his nose. He wasn’t much of a fighter, Katie knew that, but he had principles and he had guts.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ he said, almost on cue as the first wafts of exotic tobacco reached their nostrils. ‘Sorry babe, that’s the final straw.’

  Katie shook her head. ‘Oh Ben, just leav-‘

  His scowl stopped her in mid-sentence. Then, as calmly as he could, he stood up and stepped into the centre of the carriage.

  ‘Come on, mate’ he said, loud enough to be heard over the music. ‘You must know it’s non-smoking in here...’

  The oldest lad, looking formidable and threatening, pressed a button on his phone to stop the music. A sneer of contempt spread over his greasy face as he took a deliberately deep draw of his rolled-up spliff.

  ‘What’s up, old man?’ he scowled, flexing his arms and pointing with his chin.

  Ben exhaled, looking past the teenager and into the adjoining carriage for potential backup. It was empty.

  ‘It’s Gaz, right?’ he said, trying to sound as firm but friendly as possible. ‘Look mate, I don’t want any trouble, okay? You can do what you like off the train, but no one’s allowed to smoke on it. Especially that stuff.’

  The teenager stared into Ben’s eyes and the forty year old commercial artist tried to guess what he was thinking. Ben had used the word ‘mate’ twice now, but the truth was that he couldn’t imagine a world where he and this scumbag would ever be friends.

  ‘Who’s smoking then?’ said Gaz, cockily. ‘I ain’t fuckin’ smoking...’

  Katie could feel the tension rising as the other teenagers sniggered behind their swaggering leader. ‘Ben’ she pleaded. ‘Come and sit down, please.’

  ‘Yeah, Ben’ said the lad, full of pumped-up bravado. ‘Sit down like a good boy...’

  The comment, deliberately provocative, did what it was meant to do; it made Ben Reilly angrier. He could feel his face growing hot, flushing red. Every single thing about this thug only added to his annoyance, from the cheap tattoos to the offensive tee-shirt to the taunting expression of sheer disrespect. ‘Look,’ he said quietly, locking eyes with his challenger. ‘I’ve asked you nicely. Now for the last time, put the fucking cigarette out.’

  Katie rose from the seat behind her husband, cringing as the other teenagers looked on, sensing the coming storm. This was a battle of wills, essentially a ‘show and tell’ of who had the bigger balls - and the one called Gaz certainly had no intention of backing down, especially not while in the presence of his underlings.

  ‘Did you just fucking swear at me?’ he asked, oblivious to the hypocrisy in his question.

  Ben cursed under his breath, fearing no way back. He held up his hands in a gesture of peace, a final desperate attempt to defuse the situation. ‘Look, all I-‘

  In a flash of violence Gaz lunged forward and crunched a meaty fist into the middle of Ben’s face. The older man was thrown back, landing hard on the floor of the moving carriage.

  Katie screamed and dropped to the floor, fumbling to cradle her husband’s lolling head. Blood began to drip from his nose. His eyelids flickered.

  ‘Bam’ said Gaz, spitting onto the floor. ‘Bitch goes down.’

  ~ 3 ~

  Chris McReedy tapped the top of his steering wheel and stared impatiently through the windscreen for the third time. Shaking his head in annoyance, he focused on the closed door to a stairwell at the base of a block of flats on the other side of the road.

  ‘Bloody hell, Sarah’ he said aloud, wondering how on earth it took his girlfriend so long to get ready in the mornings. He drew back the sleeve of his hoodie enough to read his watch and huffed again, although by the time he looked back up the door had finally opened. Across the street she came, tall and willowy slim, long brown hair freshly straightened and makeup as perfect as normal. But her eyes were looking down at the ground, and that’s when Chris knew for certain that something was wrong.

  They had been seeing each other for five months, and up until a couple of days ago Chris would have said it was going quite well. He was nineteen, thin, with spiky blond hair; she was a year younger and still at college whereas he worked as a sales assistant in an electrical store. On days when his shift started later he would give her a lift to college, but this was the day after she had ignored his calls and only replied to his texts at the fourth attempt. Also, she hadn’t put a kiss on her reply, and her texts always had kisses on them. This meant one thing in Chris’ mind. He had been in this situation before. He knew the signs. He was going to be dumped.

  ‘Morning’ she said, opening the passenger door. Chris nodded a greeting but his downturned mouth gave him away. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, getting in the car and pulling the door to.

 

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