Rare Sight

Chapter Eleven

Sebastian vanished immediately.

“Was that a good idea?” Joe asked his mum.

She shrugged. “I don’t care,” she said. “I’m sick to death of being bullied and spending my whole time feeling scared. I don’t know if I’m going to get back from work to see my family sitting chatting in the kitchen, or to find they’re all missing and there’s a message for me scrawled on the walls in their blood. If Stuart Tansley wants to deal with me, he’ll have to do it face to face.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No, but I bet Gideon can track him down.” She said the name ‘Gideon’ as if it was a swear word. She started rummaging in her bag and pulled out her mobile phone. “Right, let’s see if your father wants to help us.” She dialled his gran’s number and waited for someone to pick up at the other end. “Mum,” she said at last, “No, no, I’m fine. But I need to speak to Gideon.” There was a long pause, then Joe heard Gideon’s voice booming from the other end. He was one of those people who wouldn’t be able to speak quietly if they were at a librarian’s funeral. “Gideon,” said his mum. “I need you to track down Stuart Tansley.” There was the sound of Gideon’s voice again, and Joe distinctly heard the word, “dangerous”. Then his mum said, “I don’t care, Gideon. That weasel of a man needs to learn that bullying will, in the end, always come back to haunt him.”

“Right,” she said, turning to Joe and putting her phone back in her bag. “That’s sorted. Gideon’s on his way.”

They sat in silence for about ten minutes, until Gideon’s battered red Beetle stopped in the road just ahead of them. His mum signalled and pulled out, following Gideon through the centre of town. After a while, the shops gave way to houses, then high-rise apartment blocks, and then the roads emptied of vehicles and they were driving past abandoned warehouses and factories, with holes in the roof and graffiti on the walls. There was no one around, and the wind swept across the area, buffeting the car. Joe shivered, wishing he’d grabbed his coat on his way out of the house. They must be near the estuary, but it was a part of Runchester Joe had never visited before.

“Mum?” he said.

“Yes, love?”

“Well, what if this Tanner bloke gets vicious? I mean, what if he’s got a gun? Or a knife? What if he’s got men – you know, like bodyguards or something?”

“Hmm? Oh – yes, I suppose he might have.”

“Mum, are you even listening? What if we’re driving straight into a trap?”

“Joseph, would you look in my bag?”

He sighed and reached for the overloaded bag which she’d planted at his feet. “What am I looking for?”

“Just look inside.”

He sighed again and began to rummage through the familiar contents – her wallet, a wad of shredded tissues, her phone… and then he stopped short. His hand had landed on something cold and hard. “Mum, what is this?”

“You know what it is, Joe.”

He looked at her, and saw that her face was resolute. He looked back down, at the black shiny steel barrel that was now pointing out from among the clutter.

“But Mum – a gun?”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“You what?”

“You heard me.”

“I… no, of course not. Look, have I entered some alternative universe or something? I thought you were my mum. You know, anti-guns, anti-drugs, anti-anything-that-might-kill-your-son?”