The Occasional Jonas Kemble

As he was about to pull on the bell again, though God knows whoever had failed to hear it the first time was either deaf or dead, the door opened and a tall gangle of a man in his mid-eighties stepped out followed by a rush of tobacco-laden air.

He heard her breathing become long and deep as she tipped over into sleep and he wished he could join her. In truth he was wide awake, troubled by the very doubt Teresa had expressed.

She squeezed and felt the bones crush in her hands, blood seep out from where her fingernails had pierced the skin. Teresa began to weaken, then to buckle as she struggled for breath. Isabella let go of her and she fell…

They kissed briefly and off he went. She paused to savour the moment. This must be how a bird feels when it’s released back into the wild, she thought. She turned and was about to ring the bell when Carla opened the door six inches. “Has he gone?” she asked cautiously.

Ethan crept up the stairs to the attic, even though there was no need for secrecy. He’d been sleeping with Isabella ever since she moved in and everyone in the house knew it.

The skin on Marcus’s neck had begun to crawl. He was right to have been on guard, it seemed. Never mind her bleating about Zack’s behaviour, but had she just made a pass at him? He flashed back over their bitty, broken conversation…