The Coldest Blood
“The window had long gone and the sill was green and slippery with lichen. Inside the bedframes were rusted, the lino curled at the edges. A dead seagull lay in one corner beside a rusted bucket full of ice placed under a jagged shard of sky in the roof. He felt nothing, but turned to look across at 10. The stoop was still there, sagging under the weight of sand which had drifted in with the winter storms. He could imagine Dex waiting, waiting for the game to begin, the pent-up violence vibratin...g in his thin, awkward arms. Edging inside, he put a hand on the bedstead and rattled the metal, lifting the detachable headboard away from the main frame and the wire base. A cloud of rust was released, a blood-red shower of oxidized iron.Outside again he checked his mobile: no messages. He’d left Laura resting with the monitor switched on. Reception had his numbers and the nursing assistant would look in on her every two hours, until he notified them he was back at their chalet. He’d go back soon, take her out on the sands, under the liberating sky.But for now he walked on between the dilapidated huts, many of them partly submerged by the creeping dunes.MoreLess
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