The Society Of Dirty Hearts Read Free Page A

from it onto her chin. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’ve got a fortnight of study leave,” said Julian, almost flinching from doing so, knowing how his mum hated even the smallest of lies. “There’s too much noise, too much going on to concentrate at my halls. So I decided to come home for a few days.” He stooped to kiss his mum on the right cheek – he could hardly bear to look at the left side of her face, never mind touch it. “You look well.”
    “No I don’t, and neither do you.” Christine studied her son’s face as if examining it for symptoms of some disease. “You’ve lost weight and you look tired. How have you been eating? How have you been sleeping?”
    “Fine and fine. Although I’ve been missing Wanda’s cooking.”  
    “And what about the dreams?”
    “I told you, everything’s fine.”
    Christine continued to look intently at Julian, eyes like fingers, probing. “I’m going in for something to eat,” he said, turning away.  
    “I’ll see you inside once I’m finished out here, and we can have a proper chat.”
    Great, thought Julian, wondering suddenly whether he’d made a mistake in coming home. The last thing he wanted to do was dump his anxieties on his mum, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold out under the steady probing of her eyes. Although he longed for someone to speak to, he couldn’t imagine telling anyone, not even his therapist, about the new twist in his dream. Just thinking about it made him want to lower his eyes in shame.
    Wanda made Julian a sandwich, which he ate on the sofa in front of the TV. Henry lay curled at his feet, waiting for any titbits that might come his way. The local news was on. Police were searching the woods around Five Springs after reports that Joanne Butcher had been seen there the day she disappeared. They’d not found anything yet. A journalist interviewed her mother outside a block of flats that looked as grey and rundown as she did. She was clutching a small brown teddy bear with a heart on its stomach that read ‘This is all I have to give.’ “If there’s somebody who has taken Joanne please contact the police,” she pleaded, her voice weak and tearful, pitiful to hear. “The family don’t feel safe anymore, it’s broken us apart. It makes you think you can’t trust anyone, not even the people closest to you. If you have Joanne, please let her go.”
    Julian took out his mobile-phone, scrolled down to ‘Kyle’ and pressed the green button. After a couple of rings, a hushed male voice answered, “Hey, dude, how’s it going?”
    “It’s going good. I’m back in town for a few days. Fancy meeting up at The Cut for a beer?”
    “Course I do, bro. What time?”
    “About eight.”
    “I’ll be there. Listen, bro, I can’t talk now, I’m in class. See you later, yeah.”
    “Later.”
    Julian could hear his mum and Wanda talking in the kitchen. He went to his bedroom. He didn’t want to risk lying down – his body felt heavy and ready for sleep – so he booted up his PC and Googled Joanne Butcher. She had a Facebook profile, which was set to private. He scrolled down her friends list. He didn’t recognise any of the names, but a picture caught his eye. It was of a teenage girl wearing thick black eye makeup. Her tongue was stuck out, revealing a silver stud embedded in its centre. There was also a stud in her nose and several earrings in either lobe. Dozens of tiny fresh cuts, like tribal markings, were visible on her inner left wrist. As the cuts ran down towards her hand they crisscrossed to form the words ‘HELP ME’. The girl was instantly familiar, but it took him a few seconds to realise where he recognised her from – she was the schoolgirl who’d handed him the flier. Her name was listed as ‘Morsus’. He clicked on her, but her profile was set to private too. He sat staring at her photo. There was something about it, something he couldn’t quite define, but which held him