Chameleon

Chapter 14

'Bastard! The evil, slimy, bastard son of a bitch! I wish he was dead!'

Molly was ranting, screaming and waving her arms. Billy leaned over and whispered in Mike's ear.

'Who's she talking about? Jarvis, or you?'

'Sod off,' Mike replied sourly.

Molly's flat was a war zone. Furniture and crockery smashed, clothes ripped to pieces, the Mickey Mouse poster that had brightened her mornings torn from the wall and shredded. Spray paint adorned the walls and ceiling. Even her teddy bear had had his arms and legs cruelly torn off and a carving knife embedded between his eyes. Molly gently eased the knife free, dropped it on the floor and held his poor, dismembered corpse to her ample bosom. Tears began to fill her eyes.

'My Mum gave me this bear,' she said softly, her voice breaking as the anger gave way to despair. All I had, she thought, this was all I had and now it's gone.

'Look on the bright side,' Mike suggested.

'What bright side?' Molly asked.

'At least you weren't here when it happened!'

Molly screamed and flew at him, dropping her teddy on the floor in her rage. She lashed out with both hands, catching him resounding slaps about the head, her nails raking his cheeks. Mike fell back, raising his hands across his face to protect himself. Molly continued to rain punches and kicks on his arms, legs and shoulders until Billy grabbed her in a bear hug and pulled her off.

'Let me go!' she screamed. 'I'm going to kill him!'

Billy held on grimly, wrestling her onto the bed and falling on top of her.

'He's not worth it, Molly!' Billy shouted. 'He's just not worth it!'

Slowly, her struggles ceased. Billy shifted his weight and she turned her tear-stained face towards him.

'This was my home,' she said softly.

'I know, I know.' Billy gently wiped the tears from her cheek. 'But better it than you, eh?'

'What?' Molly sniffed.

'If you'd been here when Jarvis arrived, he'd have done this to you as well as your flat. Maybe, now he's had his fun, he'll leave you alone.'

'Maybe,' Molly admitted, wiping the back of her hand across her face.

Mike dabbed at his gouged cheek with a grubby handkerchief. 'That's what I said!' he complained. 'But when I said it, she went mental!'

'Shut up!' they replied in unison.

Billy helped Molly to her feet.

'Where's Charlie?' she asked suddenly.

All three looked around stupidly, as though expecting him to pop up like a jack-in-the-box from behind the gutted remains of the armchair.

'He was here a minute ago,' Billy said.

'Charlie?' Molly called. 'Charlie, where are you?'

A small knot of fear hardened in her stomach. If he wanders off now I may never see him again! That thought frightened her more than she cared to admit. She pushed past Billy and Mike to check the devastated kitchen. Apart from scattered cutlery, spoilt food and a paint job consisting of flour, eggs and milk, the room was empty.

'Charlie!' She ran from the kitchen to the bathroom.

He was sitting on the floor, wedged between the lavatory bowl and the bath, hugging his knees to his chest. His face was hidden between his folded arms. Molly knelt beside him and touched him on the shoulder. Slowly, he turned his face towards her. His eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks wet with tears, his breath sobbing in his throat.

'Charlie,' Molly whispered, 'what's wrong?'

'My fault,' he mumbled, 'all my fault.'

His voice broke and he began to sob, his body shaking convulsively. Molly gathered him up in her arms, hugging him, rocking back and forth, soothing away his fears.

'Hush,' she told him. 'It's all right. It's not your fault. Everything's going to be all right.'

Billy coughed, embarrassed, from the doorway.

'Moll,' he said. 'You can stay at my place tonight, okay?'

'Okay,' she replied. 'Just give me a minute.'

Billy withdrew and left them alone with their tears.