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Chris’s thoughts swirled inside his head as if they were in a spin-dryer on the top setting. The way his sister was grinning would intimate Polly shagging another man was some sort of good news; his ego was saying it was anything but. He hadnotseen this coming. Anger was rising up within him like a vortex, cleansing everything in its path but itself.
‘And there’s me sitting here worrying about her,’ said Chris, which made Will cast him a look. ‘Well, that’s it. I wouldn’t have her back now if she begged.’
‘And she will, darling,’ said Camay, putting her pudgy arms around his neck. ‘She’ll come crawling back on her hands and knees and you will tell her to sling her hook. You’ve had a very, very lucky escape. And so say all of us.’
Will picked up the letter and read it himself. Was it a rough draft of a letter sent, or was it sent to her? He hadn’t seen that coming either. He might have had sympathy for Polly, but he couldn’t condone her having another man. He didn’t want to believe she was doing that behind his dad’s back; he’d thought she was better than that and stood on a moral higher ground. He felt let down but try as his brain might, there was no other way of interpreting it, especiallygiven that Polly was packed up ready to go. With all these clues, it was a convenient truth to think that she must have someone else. And for now, that’s all the truth they had.
Polly’s alarm bells started to tinkle a little when she realised the man wasn’t heading for the van but for her. The closer he got, she could see how scruffy he was, rangy in appearance, his walk strangely lolloping and wearing a sort of floppy hat that made her scalp prickle. She couldn’t have got to her car before he did, even though her instincts were screaming at her to try. She opened her bag and foraged around inside it for something she might use as a weapon. There was only the shaft of her car key or a pen. The trouble was, she’d have to be pretty near to him to cause any damage with either.
‘Lady, lady,’ the man was calling.
She saw he had string in place of a belt and she shuddered. She got up from the bench and backed away.
‘What do you want?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you come any closer.’
He slowed down but didn’t stop. He held up his hands though and said, ‘It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you.’ He smiled and she wished he hadn’t because it wasn’t a pretty sight. ‘Is that your car?’
‘Yes,’ said Polly, clutching her bag close to her.
‘I’m going to need to take it,’ said Orrible. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Remarkably, he looked it too.
Polly’s eyebrows rippled in disbelief.
‘I’m afraid you aren’t,’ she said.
‘I need it. Look, you can get your money back on the insurance. Just throw me the keys please and this will all be over really quickly.’
It had been a big mistake thinking this day couldn’t get any worse.
‘Oh and can you chuck me your handbag as well?’ asked Orrible, hopeful smile pinned on his face. Billy the Donk would have the car but he needed something for his trouble.
Polly’s adrenaline levels were through the roof. Under normal circumstances she would have just let him take the lot but these exceeded even the farthest ultra-violet spectrum-end of normal. The car he could have, because it was just a lump of metal, but her whole world was in her handbag; it was her survival pack. This horrible little man would rip the backside out of her cards before she had a chance to report them, as well as spend the thousand pounds she had in cash in her purse. Her brain was spinning. She looked around in the hope that someone had left a convenient iron bar on the grass. Or a full can of pepper spray.
‘Come on now, let’s have the bag, lady,’ said Orrible. Polly was all too aware she was at a cliff edge and scrawny as this man was, he had more moves than she had because she didn’t have any. He could, at a push, force her through the bars of the fence and tip her over the edge. People robbed you for pence these days.
She took the key fob out of her bag. ‘Look, take my car but I’ve got all my clothes in the boot. There’s nothing else but clothes, I promise you. Just please, let me have them and drive off.’
She threw the fob onto the grass and Orrible moved to retrieve it. This was the easiest job he’d ever had. But she didn’t fool him. He smiled again and wagged his finger.
‘You’ll ring the police as soon as I’ve gone, I’m not daft. Please give me the bag, lady.’
‘I swear to you on my life I won’t, but I really can’t give you my bag. Just take the car and go. Please.’
He didn’t believe her. And she had something valuable inthat bag or she’d have given it up with the ease she’d given up her car. He calculated that all that was separating him from the bounty it held was a minor tussle at most. She was scared stiff, she’d let go as soon as he touched it. He had never mugged anyone before and he really didn’t want to start now, but Billy the Donk was one bad MF and… needs must. He stepped forward and made a grab for it but he’d underestimated Polly’s desperation. She twisted and elbowed him in the rib. He folded, but it wasn’t enough to make him give up. He stretched out his hand again and this time his fingers gained full purchase of it; Polly grabbed it back with a mighty pull. Orrible threw himself forward, Polly dropped it on the ground in her haste to remove it from his reach. They both made a dive for it, but Orrible tripped over Polly’s foot, kicking the bag as he struggled to right himself and they both watched it skid to the end of the cliff and tumble over the side.
They yelled, ‘Noooo’ in unison, leaning over the barrier to witness the bag slide down the rocky edge, then come to a sudden stop as it snagged on a sticky-out plant branch that only an osprey could have got to.
Angry now, upset and cheated, Orrible grabbed Polly by the shoulders and shook her in frustration.
‘You stupid… flipping… twerp,’ he yelled, pushing his face into hers.
She inhaled his rank breath, saw his blackened teeth, his beady little eyes, his flippy-floppy hat nodding on top of his living, breathing scarecrow head, and panic drenched her like an Arctic wave. She felt her heart racing, her lungs empty of air and struggle to pull more in to replace it. Her head felt light through lack of oxygen, it started to spin, her legs crumbled from beneath her. Orrible let go and watchedthe woman’s face bounce into the metal railing before she hit the ground and he winced for her. She lay there still on the grass and Orrible thought she was playing dead until he tried to lift her up by her arm with a rousing, ‘Lady, lady, lady,’ before realising she was totally out cold.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he said, looking around for witnesses and then up for a drone. People sometimes used them around here, but the skies were clear of everything but smoke-grey rain clouds preparing to burst.
He rolled her into a rough version of the recovery position because he didn’t want to be responsible for her choking to death. Then, noticing she had a nice watch on and three rings on her fingers, he decided to relieve her of them. He couldn’t go to hell any more than he already was. It would offset some of the pain of having missed out on the bag.
