Read Online Dark Fires Shall Burn by Anna Westbrook - Free Book Online Page B

place to sleep the night. She can crawl in through the broken window near the infants’ building and sleep under her desk. By morning her mother might have forgiven her, if she’d had a scare that Frances might’ve run away for good. The storm must blow over. She turns to take the shortcut past St Stephen’s as the bell strikes ten.

SEVEN
    It’s almost ten-thirty that night when Dot locks up Lennox Street, and the group walks towards King. They’re all together: Jackie and Annie; Sally in between Frank and Will, holding their hands; Templeton and Dot a few yards behind. Jackie and his boys have been laying low today apparently, although the difference between that and sleeping off their hangovers isn’t clear to Templeton.
    The men pass the liquor from Dot’s purse back and forth between them, their flask long emptied. Dot’s gaze, Templeton notices, is screwed to the back of Annie’s head. But Annie doesn’t look around. Jackie has an arm around Annie’s waist and steers her along amiably; she rests one white-gloved hand on the small of his back. All seems forgiven, for now. Templeton can feel Dot’s anger in the press of her fingers, curled around his upper arm. He begins a number of conversations with her in his head and aborts each one half-formed.
    Annie is wearing her new violet frock with jet beading, the one she nicked from David Jones, and a tiny, cream-coloured pillbox hat. He can see the trouble she has gone to with her make-up, concealing the bruise on her cheek.
    On a corner, he stops for a moment to strike a new match against the box, but it snaps off. He tries again.
    As the others enter Hordern Lane in front of him, there is a squeal of car wheels spinning hard against the asphalt. Then high beams flash on — the same sickly margarine yellow he recognises from the night before. There is a noise like slaughter in a piggery, and Templeton realises it is Sally screaming. His eyes follow her sightline. The glint of a barrel out a rolled-down window, aimed at them. For a second, Templeton almost wants to laugh: it seems so cheeky peeking out from the darkness, somehow a joke.
    â€˜Christ!’ Jackie sees it too. ‘Get down!’
    They all plunge to the ground with the first of the shots. Templeton hears the whistle of a bullet somewhere above him. The window of an abandoned house to their left cracks, and glass rains down over their heads. The automobile angles awkwardly, the lane too tight for a full circle, and a man’s face hangs out of the passenger window. Where one eye should be there is only a milky scar. ‘That’s for you, Jack Tooth, you son of a bitch,’ the one-eyed man shouts as the car blunders and jerks into its U-turn, gains traction, and speeds away, leaving the sharp stench of burnt rubber.
    Templeton gulps oxygen as though he has been pinned underwater. He no longer feels the bizarre twinge of amusement.
    â€˜What the bloody hell was that? In the name of Christ,’ Sally yells, trying to pick herself up. ‘Who was that?’
    Templeton, still panting, sees Will struggling to his feet, standing up and falling down, sliding against the wall. He watches Dot rise from her crouch with her back straight and her mouth set in an expression of cold fury.
    â€˜I knew it. I knew it,’ Jackie yells, already on his feet and pumping his arms. He pushes up his shirtsleeves, the front of him soaked in sweat and street grime. ‘Fucken Bob Newham! I knew the bastard was after me the second I heard he was getting outta Long Bay. That’s it. It’s on now. It’s war now!’ His face radiates savage excitement.
    â€˜Cool it,’ Annie says, going over to him. ‘Calm down. They’re gone, baby.’
    But Jackie is not listening, cannot listen in the state he is in. He lights a cigarette and draws on it like a madman, swearing and trembling. ‘Bob Newham! He couldn’t hit the dags off a