No Reason To Die Read Free Page B

door, still averting their eyes from the cause of the disruption.
    ‘For goodness sake, John,’ said Charlie, this time from the safety of behind the bar. ‘Get that damned kid out of here, if you’re going to. If not, I’m calling the filth.’
    Kelly glanced at him balefully and did not bother to reply. The filth? Presumably, Charlie was referring to a possible visit from a patrol car out of Ashburton, which would now be highly unlikely to arrive beforeclosing time. And, in any case, one drunken kid hardly warranted a 999 call. In pub-land terms, the landlord of The Wild Dog did not know he was born. Kelly turned to Alan.
    ‘C’mon mate,’ he said. ‘You heard the man. You can’t stay here. And if I don’t take you back to Hangridge, where the hell else are you going to go?’
    ‘Anywhere I can sh-shtay alive,’ replied Alan, frowning with the effort of getting the words out. But at least he seemed to have stopped hiccuping.
    Kelly chuckled. He was no stranger to alcoholic paranoia.
    ‘Oh, come on,’ he said gently. ‘It can’t be as bad as that?’
    The young soldier made another huge effort to be lucid.
    ‘Not that bad? If you don’t fucking go along with everything out there, they fucking kill you.’ Alan made a cutting motion across his throat with the side of his right hand. He then allowed his arm to fall loosely to his side as if the effort of keeping it in any other sort of position was too great.
    ‘Sho, how bad’s that, then?’ he enquired.
    Kelly grinned. He patted Alan on the shoulder and stood up. The boy really was out of it. Just a pub double or two away from the pink elephant and giant creepy insect stage, Kelly reckoned. Well, Kelly had never pretended to be a butch version of Mother Teresa. And he did have a novel to write. Or, at any rate, a date with his backgammon software.
    ‘If you won’t be helped, mate, then you won’t be helped,’ he said, picking up his glass and walking to the bar.
    ‘Can’t do anything with him, Charlie, short ofcarrying the little bugger out of here, and I’m too long in the tooth for that game,’ he said. ‘So, it’s over to you. I’m off home.’
    He raised his glass to drain the last of his final uninspiring pint of Coke when suddenly the young soldier rose unsteadily to his feet and with surprising swiftness crossed the bar and caught hold of Kelly’s elbow, jerking his arm and causing him to spill some of his drink down the front of his sweater.
    ‘Hey, steady on,’ muttered Kelly, caught off balance.
    The boy swayed slightly and perched himself precariously on a bar stool, giving Kelly a dangerous sense of
déjà vu
. This was getting boring. It really was time he left.
    ‘You don’t undershtand,’ muttered Alan. ‘Nobody does. That’sh the trouble. Nobody listens. I’ve tried to tell people, you see – tried to talk …’
    ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Kelly had heard it all before. Different background information, same message. The poor persecuted drunk. The boy still had a grip on his arm. He attempted to shake it off, but Alan hung on all the more tightly. He was a strong little bugger for a drunk.
    ‘Don’t leave me,’ he said.
    Dear God, thought Kelly. Don’t leave me? He’d only just met the lad, for God’s sake, and now he was on the receiving end of a line straight out of Mills & Boon. How did he always manage to get himself involved anywhere there was trouble?
    ‘Look, just let go of me, Alan, you’ll be fine,’ he coaxed.
    ‘No. No I won’t. They’ll get me. They will. And they’ll do for me, jusht like the others.’
    The boy’s fingers were digging into Kelly’s flesh. This really was getting to be too much.
    ‘You’ve had a few drinks, mate, you don’t know what you’re saying,’ Kelly began soothingly.
    ‘Oh yes, I do.’ The boy spat the words out angrily. ‘I’m talking about Hangridge and why I’m never going back there. They’ve killed the others. They’ll kill me, I’m sure of it