AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lake traced his index finger over the image of Kirsty on a runway in Italy. Her tall, lean body curved in all the right places, accentuated by silver mirrored underwear the likes of which he’d never seen before. She was smiling into the camera, with a naughty look in her eye that made you want to tease her, just to see her laugh. Long, red, wavy hair flowed over her shoulder. He wanted to run his hands through it, but the pixie cut she sported now made that impossible.
“Why are you looking at our Kirsty?” Dougal said as he picked up the empty plates.
As owner of the pub, Dougal behaved like it was his right to poke his nose into everyone’s business. Lake wasn’t surprised. There was no such thing as privacy in Invertary. Lake let Dougal clear the table in front of hi
m. As usual, the self-appointed town mayor’s ample belly was barely covered by a green tartan waistcoat. This time it was worn over a pink shirt. Lake made a note to bring sunglasses next time he visited the pub.
“Well, son, why are you reading about Kirsty?” Dougal’s loud voice boomed, making heads turn his way. “Is this because of that story in the paper? The war thing you’re playing at? What is it you lads say—know your enemy?”
Lake was surprised at how close Dougal had come to his motivation, but he didn’t let it show.
“Just curious,” Lake said, keeping his voice low and soft.
“Why are you whispering, son? Everybody knows the story anyway. It was in all the papers.”
Lake looked around as those who could hear over the din nodded.
“You’re English, so you might not know,” Dougal said, although it was clear Lake did know as he’d just been reading about it.
There was obviously no stopping the man, so Lake sat back in his chair. Dougal smoothed his perfectly groomed—and snow white—beard and moustache. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room to make sure people were paying attention to him.
“Kirsty,” Dougal said with an air of importance, “was a lingerie model, very successful. Not one of those angel girls, but close.”
Dougal took a breath and a guy behind Lake said, “He means Victoria’s Secret.”
Dougal frowned at the man for interrupting.
“She was always gallivanting off to some shoot or other, all over the world.” Dougal continued, pleased that people were turning to listen. “She got engaged to her manager, all teeth whitener and limp handshake. They were in a car in Spain, on the high roads.”
“‘Round Seville,” someone behind him said. “Treacherous roads. You drive on a cliff edge.”
More nodding.
“Anyway,” Dougal said in a tone that made it clear he was the one telling the story, not them. “He lost control of his flash car and it plummeted down a gully.”
“Cliff.”
“Ravine.”
Dougal stared at the crowd until they shut up.
“He walked away,” he said with disgust. “Bruises and a broken arm, that was all. At least he called for help. They had to cut our Kirsty out. She lost a kidney—”
“Head injury, too, poor dear,” said a woman to his left.
“They had to cut off her lovely hair,” said the woman’s friend.
“The worst part,” said an old guy behind him, “was the scars.”
“Yes,” said his wife. “They go from her neck right down her body. Terrible, it is.”
“Have you ever seen them?” boomed Dougal.
“No.” The woman was flustered. “But I’ve heard.”
“If you haven’t seen them, then you don’t know how bad they are, do you?” Dougal told her.
After a few seconds of giving her the evil eye, he turned back to Lake.
