The spotlight was on again, illuminating the target, but there were fewer people than before. Something else had changed too—they were drunker, more manic. A coked-up energy floating free.
There was only one girl. She was slight, and despite the cold wore an abbreviated silvery dress, flashing like a glitterball in the headlights. She’d been handed the crossbow, and it looked huge in her arms. How old was she, anyway? His age? The men were far older and uniformly dressed in evening wear. There were five of them, and they watched the girl in a hungry way: fifty, he said, when Louisa asked. Or sixty. Balding men, or grey-templed.
She almost dropped the weapon, but managed to get it level. One of the men stood behind her, a hand on her waist. He was whispering into her ear.
When she loosed the bolt it went wild, careening into the dark.
The men collapsed in laughter.
She stamped her foot, but was laughing too. “I wasn’t
The crossbow was lifted from her hands, and another bolt fitted.
“Just pretend you’re pointing a finger.”
She wasn’t pretending hard enough. The second bolt, too, was swallowed by the night.
This time, the crossbow wasn’t handed back to her.
Someone had lit a cigar, and its smoke rose skyward.
“Okay, chicken,” another man said. “Your turn . . .”
She was laughing along with them when they took her across to the target.
Again, that whistling . . . The Lone Ranger. No, the William Tell Overture, Lucas remembered.
And then he thought,
The same thing must have occurred to the girl, because her laughter stopped as if a tap had been turned off.
“What are you doing?”
“Just a little fun. Nothing to worry about.”
“He’s a great shot. Like a magician.”
“But what are you doing?”
“A bit of fun. You like a bit of fun, don’t you?”
“No, please don’t do that—”
Lucas couldn’t see what was happening.
“—no please don’t, you’re hurting me—”
“Of course we’re not.”
Her scream was cut short.
When the men moved away, he could see that they’d fastened her to the struts of the target with belts, and had stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth. As soon as they were clear she threw herself to the ground, taking the target with her, trapping herself like a tortoise. Most of the men laughed. One returned and lifted her to her feet, set her so she was leaning against the target once more. Lucas couldn’t hear what he said: just a word or two, carried upwards with the cigar smoke.
When he backed away, the girl remained upright.
Her short dress shimmered in the spotlight’s glare.
One of the men had disappeared into the dark, in the direction of the house, and for a moment Lucas thought he’d gone for help, to fetch a grown-up, but when he reappeared he was holding, what, a fucking
It fell off.
“Tell her to stop shaking!”
Lucas couldn’t hear what he said to the girl, but whatever it was, he said it with a hand on her chin, looking straight into her eyes.
When he replaced the pumpkin on her head, it fell off.
Someone left the group, wandered into the shadows of the barn. He re-emerged with a roll of tape in his hands, holding it like a trophy. There were cheers, and more laughter, which continued as the pumpkin was strapped onto the girl’s head. She was shaking, and it slipped to one side, and when the nearest of the men returned and set it straight again, he tapped her on the cheek with three fingers—not a slap exactly; more a warning.
“I should have done something,” Lucas said.
Louisa said, “It wouldn’t have gone well. There were five of them. And they were drunk.”
But Emma had said nothing.
In the darkness of the shed, with some night-creature rustling around outside, the boy had continued his story.
Lars, as instructed, had headed down to the estuary. Snow was falling, and as he crossed the main road through town he saw no one. Twenty minutes earlier he’d passed the woman’s car, which he’d disabled the other night, and while kicked-up snow showed someone had been checking it out, there was no Police Aware sticker on the windscreen. Right now, nobody was aware of anything much. People were sticking to their firesides, their TV screens. The shops were shuttered, and schools were closed. He’d heard that on the radio, which had also advised him to remain indoors unless his journey was absolutely necessary.
Which it kind of was.
