Today's word count: 1689 Total word count: 19,599
That night when I arrived home I put the books on the lounge
table and went through to the kitchen to make a meal, hoping Dee would stay
away. I’d had just about enough of him
already and desperately needed an evening off. I wanted to study the field
guide in detail to see if I could find any hint of what kind of creature he
was. Until I identified him I couldn’t fight him, so I had to know. I turned on the TV to catch up with the news while
I prepared myself some dinner. It was
little more than background noise really, but I tuned in and out as I heard
things of interest. Most of it was political posturing by the various parties
and I continued with peeling, chopping and frying until a different kind of report
caught my attention. The newsreader said a motorway in Scotland was closed as a
result of an accident earlier in the day. Apparently somebody had managed to
get onto the road the wrong way and had caused a 30 vehicle pile up by driving
in the opposite direction to the rest of the traffic.
I went cold as I heard the news. The report went on to say that, miraculously,
only one person died and another was in hospital with serious, but not life
threatening, injuries. Everyone else
escaped unhurt, but it would take some hours to clear the wreckage. “Not another death. Why do you keep killing
people?” I said out loud and heard a noise behind me. There he was, in his visiting
identity, with his hand on a cupboard handle, apparently having just closed the
door. As I watched he opened the next one in the row and proceeded to examine
its contents. He took various packets and tins from the shelf, turning them
around to read the labels before he put them back in their original places. Speechless,
I watched him as he continued to investigate my food store. Eventually he broke
the silence.
“Not bad. You’ve got the makings of a few decent meals in
here. What did you fancy to eat tomorrow?”
“What?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.
He turned to face me and I noticed his outfit kept his chest
well covered tonight. He’d moved on from
nineteen seventies gigolo to a more modern dark denim jeans and a simple, high
necked white t-shirt. He had a dark blue tweedy kind of jacket over the top and
I was forced to admit he looked good in it. It really was a shame I knew that
underneath it all he looked exactly like a wizened old monkey. Not to mention the
teeth.
“We’re having dinner together tomorrow, remember? You
promised. What are you planning to cook?”
I couldn’t speak at first. I’d totally forgotten about the
agreement to meet for dinner, and I’d never suspected that I would be cooking
it. Eventually I managed to splutter, “Dinner?
You expect me to cook you dinner? I at least thought you’d take me somewhere
upmarket for a meal.”
Stupidly, when the agreement was made I truly imagined that
we would be at a very expensive place where he could show off. I assumed that
money would be no object to him. He could create whatever he wanted, whenever
he wished – or if I wished – so there wouldn’t even be a problem with a
booking. He wouldn’t be fobbed off with a lack of tables. If he wanted to dine
in the best restaurant in town, a table would exist. I thought I might actually
benefit from his powers, since I’d been forced to accept the arrangement. I
couldn’t bring myself to think of it as a date, though I was convinced that’s
how he considered it. He must believe he’d got one over on me.
“Think, Ange. Have you seen me eat at any point in our
relationship?” I hated that word even more than I hated ‘date’. I didn’t want
to think of what we had as a relationship. It was too shocking to
contemplate. I shook my head, afraid to
say what I thought.
“Exactly. There’s a reason for that. People don’t like to
see me eat. I’ll bring my own food, don’t worry, and if you’re nice I promise
not to eat it in front of you. But if
you’re impolite I’ll make you watch. It’ll put you off your own dinner, I
promise. Probably put you off breakfast and lunch the following day too.” He
smiled and showed off those pointed teeth again. The thought of them biting into anything turned
my stomach. I toyed with the idea of telling him that his presence alone would
be enough to put me off eating, then I worried that he could read my thoughts
and cringed at the possible backlash, but the books seemed to have enough power
at this distance to block him, and nothing happened.
“Do you even drink?” I asked, genuinely interested in his
reply. It might help me to pin down his identity. “I mean, I’ve never seen you do it, and you
turned down the Earl Grey when you were here before. Am I being impolite by not
offering you anything?”
That got him. It sounded like I cared about his well being.
I didn’t, of course, unless I learned that tea would poison him.
“I can drink, but I don’t need to, and most of the time I
don’t partake. So don’t worry about
being impolite by not offering. That never bothered me. Unless of course you’d
like to share a pot of something with me? I can make the effort, if it would
please you.”
“Don’t worry. I’m just making food at the moment,” I answered,
then silence fell between us as I continued to cook.
“So what do you think of my trick with your racing driver?” he said after a while. Are you pleased?”
“Pleased?” I couldn’t help myself. I’m afraid I shrieked at
him. “You killed another innocent person whose only sin was to drive too fast.
He was an idiot, but he did not deserve to die.”
He looked at me with a strange expression, like he knew a
secret that I didn’t. He certainly looked pleased with himself. When he spoke there was a distinct laugh in
his voice. He obviously believed this
was funny for some reason.
“Tell me. Do you think his driving put other road users at
risk?”
I had to admit that I thought the guy was dangerous. “I suppose so,” I agreed disconsolately as I
transferred my stir fry onto a plate.
“Don’t sulk. It’s not befitting. You have to admit that I’m
right about something and you don’t like it.”
That made me worse, because the truth hurts. “So if you agree that he’s
a danger to himself and others, don’t you think it’s great that he’s the only
one injured?”
“But he’s not the only one injured. Someone’s dead and
someone else is in hospital, badly hurt.”
“That’s right, he is.”
That confused me. “So who’s the other one?”
“Other who? There’s only him and a lot of bent metal.”
“But someone’s dead and someone was badly hurt.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
This wasn’t getting me anywhere, and I decided to try a
different angle. I started with a simple question. “Who’s in hospital?”
“The racing driver is.”
“So who’s dead?” I asked.
“The racing driver is.”
My mind boiled as I tried to make sense of what he
said. “That’s not possible.”
“Oh Ange. Eventually you’ll realise that with me, anything
is possible. What did you wish for?”
I started to say that I didn’t wish for anything, but then I
realised Dee would say I had, and it would be a waste of time. So I thought
hard about what I’d said in the car.
“I said I hoped he’d meet himself coming the other way.”
“Correct. And that’s precisely what happened – exactly what
you wished for.” As I failed to show any sign of comprehension Dee continued. “He collided with himself. One of him died and
the other one of him is now in hospital. You’ll be pleased to know he’s in a
lot of pain. He’s also facing some tough legal action because the one that
lived is the one that drove the wrong way down the motorway. That’s death by
careless driving, or something like that. He could even end up in prison.” I
recoiled from his expression of delight.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” I asked, disgusted that these
events had anything at all to do with me. I really wished I could get out of
this mess, quickly and cleanly, but that was one wish Dee would be unlikely to
grant.
“Go on, admit it. Secretly you’re pleased about this as
well. Would you like me to add a bit of icing on it? I could make his blood
results come back positive for alcohol, if you like.”
“No, please don’t. I think you’ve gone far enough on this
one already.”
“Please yourself. That’ll leave you one last wish for today,
if you’d like one. Anything you fancy from me?”
In my mind I wished for Dee to go and leave me alone forever,
but he read that thought and gave me a reproving look. “Honestly! You just don’t appreciate me. So
what are you planning to do this evening? Shall I join you?”
I figured I needed tougher defences for the next stage if he
was ever going to leave. Picking up my plate of dinner I started to walk
through to the lounge. I placed it next to the books on the table and turned
back to face him before I said, “I thought I’d do some reading. “ He winced as
if my words had caused him physical pain. Staring directly at the books he took
a deep breath before speaking. He tried
an insult, but somehow it lacked any force.
“You are becoming very boring. There had better be no books
around tomorrow night.” And he vanished.
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