Going Under Cover

Chapter 24

24

It was almost nightfall when we had finally returned to Longhall. A moist fog clung low to the ground, an ominous feel if there was ever one. The streets were empty; no one walking, no shops opened.

Well, that was bare from one. The local filling station was up and alive, barely might I add. Not many in the village actually had cars, and fewer people passed through than I cared to imagine. It wasn't everyday that you would come across a stranger here.

And that's where I had left Martin; him filling the run down car with some petrol before it completely died on us. There had been only one source of light outside, one flickering lamp that hung from the roof, and I remembered him cursing the town. I had chuckled but had gotten out of the car too.

And now I was half way across town, taking a nice, long stroll down memory lane. I had passed Weiner's store, and the local community centre (if you could actually call it that) and now I was walking around by the river bank, on a pathway that had only been put down last year as part of Father's last ditch attempt to win the 'Tidy Towns' competition. Needless to say that he had not been at all too pleased when the results came in and we, the Longhall citizens, had not even placed on the list. It was probably his greatest disappointment.

Oddly enough, he wasn't at all vengeful, Father Roche I mean. If I were him I would have tore up the path out of spite. If I'm not mistaken, he had paid for it himself - where ever he got that sort of money from. Like, he was a priest so shouldn't he be all for not having material items. But I guess he did use it for a good enough cause so, no one judged him on it. It's not like he got that money from the collection basket at mass. Honestly, I seen someone put a button in there once, trying to pass it off for a two euro coin. It was kind of sad to see.

But back to the point that I was making: the scenery is beautiful and I will definitely miss this place. Despite its flaws and strange characters, it had become my home in such a short space of time.

It left me to wonder what would my next home be like.

Would it even compare to Longhall?

I sighed and turned to go back to Martin. He'd be worried. There was no doubt in my mind that he was finished, he had to have been. It didn't take that long to put some petrol in and go to pay for it. Although, Mr Brennan, the shop's owner, may try to keep him there for long than necessary - trying to pull all the information on the murder case out of him so that he'd have something to talk about after Mass next Sunday.

Personally, I didn't want anyone to have to face Mr Brennan. Not that I knew the man well or anything, quite the contrary. The only time that we had ever spoken was when he came marching into Weiner's store and demanded to see the boss. I had of course said quiet and had pointed to the door, and I'm just going to put it out there and say he never thanked me for this either, the old bastard. Loud voices and the banging of fists on tables had followed, at which I didn't bat an eyelid. None of my business after all. And then, to finish the story quick, Mr Brennan had marched out, sending me the 'stank-eye' before he left and Weiner didn't leave his room for the rest of the day.

Yeah, so I knew the man had a temper on him and was not the easiest to cooperate with. He'd be a great cop actually now that I think about it.

Footsteps sounded in front of me, the darkness of night and the fog rendering me usual as I couldn't see one thing. I started to freak out, coming up with numerous scenarios - like for one the killer could be coming after me right now. It had been a stupid idea to walk off on my own.

But thankfully, as the footsteps neared me, I realized that it was indeed not the killer but just Mark, whom I hadn't seen for ages. I almost chuckled but then thought better of it. It'd ruin my image to be seen laughing.