Kenneth wore a broad grin as he drove home.
Another victory. He’d fooled them all.
Yes, it had been close. That Izzy was a fiendish bitch. She’d almost had him this time. If he hadn’t caught sight of her in the woods …
But he had. He was alert, clever, adaptable. It was like playing chess. For every pathetic attack she mounted, he responded with a combined defence and counter-attack. She couldn’t win. She just kept making herself look desperate and obsessive and a little bit unhinged.
So that was why he was smiling.
And also now crying.
He stopped the car at the side of the road. He could no longer see where he was going.
Barclay.
He’d got him as a puppy. A rescue. They’d been together a long time. He thought they’d have at least a couple more years together.
But look what he’d done.
He didn’t think he was capable of such an act, not with something he loved. And there were few things in this world he truly loved.
She had driven him to this. Izzy Lambert. What alternative did he have? Like chess, sometimes you have to make sacrifices to come out on top.231
But Barclay …
He wept until his chest ached.
Simon says stop crying like a little girl.
This would have to be an end to it, he decided. He couldn’t carry on like this. He needed to take more control of his life. Try to make it something close to normal. Keep the past in the past.
He went home. Parked around the back as usual. Glanced at the passenger seat before he got out, saw that Barclay wasn’t there, shed another tear.
He walked into the house without his trusty pet at his side, and he knew they wouldn’t even notice. Might even be a whole day before they realised he wasn’t around, and even then they wouldn’t be especially upset about it. One less mouth to feed.
There was no sign of Polina. Michael was at the kitchen dining table, a chessboard and a glass of beer in front of him.
‘Where’s Polina?’ Kenneth asked.
‘She had a migraine. She’s gone up to bed.’
Probably blames me for that, Kenneth thought. All the stress I caused her earlier.
He stared at Michael. Ask me, he thought. Go on, ask me about the dog.
‘This isn’t your beer,’ Michael offered instead. ‘In case you were wondering. I went out and bought some more. Thought we could have a few together. Maybe play a game or two.’
I could do that, Kenneth thought. I could sit down and play and chat and act like nothing happened.
But that would be going backwards. Like putting on yesterday’s dirty clothes.
He went to the fridge and opened it. Michael’s beers were lined up neatly on the shelf. Kenneth ignored them and pulled out one of his own cans. He turned to face Michael and popped the tab in an act of clear rejection.232
‘I’m going to watch TV,’ he said.
He started towards the door, then turned.
‘I want you out.’
Michael stared back at him.
‘I want you out of my house,’ Kenneth said. ‘You’ve got till Sunday night to find another place to live.’
And then he went and found his spot on the sofa, in front of his television, his feet up on his coffee table, and he drank his beer and remembered his dog.