had sat and chatted about things he could no longer remember. Then he’d worked. Then he’d come home. Dinner with Emma and Daisy, driving Daisy to her usual evening scout meeting, watching an episode of Breaking Bad with Emma instead of his usual Monday squash match. A hug in bed and then, after a long time, some troubled sleep.
And today was the first day of the rest of his life.
‘I’ll get the car looked at today,’ he said.
‘Should have called the police,’ Emma mumbled, still distracted by her phone.
‘It was a bump in a car park. Last thing they’re interested in.’ He’d been pleased to discover that damage to his car was minimal. The rear bumper had absorbed the force of the shunt, and where the van had touched them there was a scrape in the paintwork, nothing more. The wing mirror displayed no signs of any impact. It could have been so much worse.
‘Still. Ignorant bastard, whoever did it.’
Dom opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, because with them closed he saw Roadrunner’s leering face.
‘Bloody hell,’ Emma said. He felt her stiffen in bed beside him. From across the landing Muse started again, the same song, Daisy’s enthusiastic but imperfect voice singing along. ‘Did you see this?’ Emma asked.
‘See what?’
‘Upper Mill post office.’
Dom’s blood ran cold. But of course it would be news. Locally, at least, if not nationally.
‘What about it?’
‘It was robbed yesterday morning. Whoever did it killed the postmistress and her granddaughter. How horrible. God, it’s only thirty miles from here.’
‘Killed them?’ Dom sat up again, but this time it was much harder than before. Everything felt slow, his body heavy, an ice-cold shock around his heart giving way to hot lead running through his veins. Sweat prickled his brow.
‘Yeah. Awful. Hope they catch the bastards.’
Dom couldn’t stop blinking. His eyes stung, and perhaps between blinks he could reset things, put things right. He already knew that they’d crossed a line. Now, that line had been painted blood-red.
‘Dom? Babe?’ He felt Emma’s hand on his arm and he leaned into her, kissing her cheek before standing from the bed.
‘Bladder’s going to explode.’
‘Dom, what is it?’
He stood at their open door, looking out across the landing at Daisy’s closed bedroom door. He’d heard the postmistress’s granddaughter singing. She’d sounded happy, carefree, like young kids should.
‘I’m okay. Just a shock, that’s all. Andy and I sat across the square from that place a few days ago.’ He remembered the laughing woman. ‘Might even have seen the post office owner.’ He looked back at his wife, terrified that the truth of things would be painted across his expression, in his eyes.
‘Yeah, it’s horrible,’ Emma said. She was scanning her phone again, scrolling slowly through the rest of the day’s news, already moving on.
And what will she see? he wondered.
The Hulk and Iron Man made off in a red Ford Focus just as their accomplices arrived, and soon after that the gunshots were heard.
The white van hit the red car.
It’s possible that two separate gangs were involved.
The Hulk and Iron Man were carrying weapons hidden in carrier bags.
‘We didn’t have weapons,’ he whispered as he stood in their bathroom trying to piss. His bladder wouldn’t let go. It was as if someone was standing behind him staring intently at the back of his neck, and he even glanced back over his shoulder.
‘Daisy, turn that down!’ Emma shouted. Daisy had turned up her iPod dock. Muse were rocking out.
Dom sobbed, once, and turned it into a cough.
‘Put the kettle on, babe,’ Emma called.
‘Yeah.’ He started to piss, but still felt eyes on him. That poor woman. Her poor grandkid.
He needed to speak to Andy.
‘Of course I’ve seen the news.’
‘We need to go to the police.’
‘And tell them what?’
‘What we saw.’
Andy didn’t reply for a few seconds. Dom could hear him breathing lightly, slowly, sounding in control. ‘Really, Dom?’
‘I dunno. It’s just … they shot them, Andy.’
‘You haven’t actually read the news, then.’
‘No. Emma told me. Why?’
‘They made the kid watch while they smashed the woman’s skull with something heavy. Then they glued the girl’s nostrils and lips shut with superglue.’
Dom felt the world spinning, or he was spiralling while everything else was motionless. He felt sick. ‘Jesus fucking Christ.’
‘So you really want to go to the police, and tell them we robbed the post office then saw these other bad guys appear to finish them off?’
‘We didn’t kill them.’
‘I know that, Dom! But we’re the bad guys too.’
‘Not that bad.’
‘They’d never believe there wasn’t a link! We admit it, they don’t find the others, we’re guilty of murder.’
‘No,’ Dom said. ‘Nobody gets hurt. That’s what we said.’
‘Yeah, I know, mate.’
‘That poor girl.’
Andy sighed. The phone line crackled. ‘Hardly bears thinking about,’ Andy said. Dom stared through his windscreen across the car park. There weren’t many cars here this early in the morning, and soon he’d go to the local shop to buy his lunch for the day. But he was suddenly all too aware of the damage to his car’s rear wing. It was superficial, little more than a few scratches. He’d already cleaned the mud from his number plates and disposed of the brightly coloured window blinds. But even though he could see no one else around, he felt eyes on him, sizing up the car and taking notes, ready to connect it to the robbery.
And then the white van hit the red car, Officer, and I’ve just seen it in Usk, I even know the guy who drives it, he’s an electrician and a governor at his daughter’s school and I’d have never expected that of him, not robbery, and definitely not murder.
He always seemed
