gns.snakes-第14章
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he inhabitants of Stainforth had to keep their windows shut anyway。 The smoky night air was filled with the demonic howling of fire engine and police sirens； everywhere eerily aglow with an orange hue； vehicles ing and going all night long。
By dawn the fire was out but the stench of burning lingered； would hang around for days； flaked ashes floating in the slight breeze like a black summer snowstorm。
'It won't do Michael no good out there；' Barbara had said as she helped herself to the sawdust…like remains of a packet of cornflakes； her baby held to her bosom with her free arm； seemingly unable to make up his mind which breast he wanted to feed off first。 Bill was still upstairs in bed； he rarely put in an appearance before midday。
'It wunna 'urt 'im；' Betty Brown screwed up her face into her usual expression of perpetual discontentment。 'Trouble with babbies today is they're pampered。 If 'e lived in the town then he'd have to put up with petrol fumes and the like and learn to like 'em。 A bit o' smoke never 'urt nobody。 Bill'll go mad if 'e 'as to put up with 'im indoors all day again today。'
So； with some misgivings； Barbara wheeled the pram out on to the square of grass at the rear of the council house； found Michael a patch of shade beside the single struggling lilac bush and secured the pram's rickety brake。
'You go to sleep； darlin'； like a good little boy。' She fixed the hood； pulled the stick of beads across for him to play with if he had the inclination； and placed his rattle on the coverlet。 He looked like he might just go to sleep。 'You have a nice sleepy…byes； my love； and in a bit mummy will e out and move your pram so that the sun doesn't shine in it。 See you in a bit； lovey。'
Michael gurgled； but he did not start to shriek when she tip…toed away。 Thank God； for that。 After all that motion last night she needed to sleep for an hour or two。
She turned back at the doorway for one last look。 Silence from the pram； maybe he was asleep already。 She coughed； this smoky air wouldn't do anybody any good； worse than smoking fags all day long like her mother did。 No good for the lungs。
There was a lot of activity in the surrounding area again today。 Two helicopters flying back and forth on the hillside below the moors； a steady drone that could be either soothing or get on your nerves； depending on what sort of mood you were in。 Cars up and down all the time。 She shrugged her shoulders； went inside and upstairs。 There was no sign of her mother； perhaps Betty Brown had decided to go back to bed and keep Bill pany。 The pair of them must get bored； she decided； with nothing to do all day except moan at somebody whose life was taken up looking after a baby。
Barbara stripped off her clothes and lay on the bed。 Christ； it was going to be hot again today； she hoped Michael would be all right out there。 In an hour or so she would go out and check him。
She felt sure that the father of her baby was Ted Growson； it could have been Alun Donnison but she thought the odds were in favour of Ted because the time of the month had been right that Sunday afternoon when she had gone up on to the moors with him。 It could just be Alun's though。 Not that it really mattered which of them had fathered her child because she would not want to be shacked up with Ted or Alun。 They were OK for an hour or two on a date but living with them would be like living with Bill in the next room； all booze； fags and sleeping in late。
Barbara wished she could get away from Stainforth； just walk out of the village pushing Michael in his pram and never e back。 A fantasy； because she didn't have any money nor anywhere to go。 So that was that and she would have to stay put。 Bill had threatened to throw her out on occasions and that was something that really worried her； in fact she had almost mentioned it to the health visitor last week but she didn't want to cause a rumpus。
Her eyelids began to droop。 Those helicopters up on the moor were soothing； like the distant drone of bees on the heather。 The sort of sound that could send you off to sleep whether you were tired or not。
Barbara woke with a start； sat bolt upright； knew instinctively that she had overslept。 She fought to focus her bleary eyes； saw that the cheap alarm clock on the dresser said 2。30。 And it was always half an hour slow。 Oh； Christ！ She leaped off the bed； grabbed her crumpled dress and shrugged it over her head。 Michael was overdue for his next feed。 It was a wonder he hadn't been screaming the place down； with Bill yelling； 'Shaddup； you little bugger；' or； 'Jesus； somebody go and throttle that babby。'
She ran downstairs barefooted。 Bill and Betty must still be in bed or else they had gone down to the pub for a lunchtime pint。 That was one bit of bonus peace anyway。 Michael had obviously slept right through； which was fine except that in all probability he would not want to sleep tonight。 You couldn't win； you were backing a loser whichever way you looked at it。
He must have just woken up。 As she stepped out of the back door into the hot charred atmosphere she heard his rattle clicking； or it could have been the beads shooting from one end of the rod to the other。
'There's a good boy。' She quickened her pace across the rough unmown grass。 'He's ever such a good boy。 He knew his momma was tired so he's played with his rattle and let his momma get some sleep。 I'm going to feed you now； my darling'
She grasped the handle of the pram； pulled it round so that it was back in the shade of the lilac again。
And then she let out a piercing scream that filled the smoky Stainforth air； dung on to the pram in rigid terror。 Michael was up in the far corner and it was quite obvious that he was dead； his tiny pink face bloated and purplish； head back； eyes wide and staring； tongue lolling lifelessly out of his open mouth。
In that instant Barbara Brown's mind snapped。 She stopped screaming； failed to wonder why Michael's rattle was still clicking and clinking even though he was dead。 She reached across to grab him and at that moment the crumpled coverlet moved and from beneath it a living coil began to unfurl； a light…coloured creature with diamond…shaped markings on its back； a head with fangs bared； rearing up； a killer that had patiently lain in ambush beside the corpse of its fast kill。
It struck； once； twice； thrice。 Darting blows； each one finding their mark on arms and face。 She screamed again； fell back clutching at the pram； toppled it over so that it threw both baby and snake to the ground。
She was doubled up with pain； her brain unable to cope； staggering blindly away； falling once and picking herself up。 Oblivious of her own safety； the thoughts of a mother only for her baby； refusing to accept that he was dead。 She ran but the snake did not follow； it moved with amazing speed that could easily have overtaken her had it so wished； turning and slithering away beneath the thick lilac bush； eased its way beneath the hedge and into the undergrowth beyond。
Barbara did not run back into the house。 No logical reason except perhaps that she had long ago given up asking her mother for help in any matter relating to baby Michael。 Instead； she staggered down the front path； through the open gate and out into the road。
The pain was unbearable； anybody except a distraught mother still clinging to the hope that her offspring might be saved； would have collapsed and succumbed to the writhings and convulsions usually caused by a rattler's bite。 Somehow she remained upright； staggering； holding on to parked vehicles for support； yelling insanely； her lips blue and puffed； swelling rapidly so that by the time a group of bystanders rushed towards her she was babbling incoherently。
She tried to wave an arm back the way she had e； attempted to scream； 'My baby； save my baby from the snake；' but she only managed a groan。
And that was when her brain and body gave out and she slumped forward in the road。
In the crowd that had gathered somebody muttered 'I think she's dead。' '
Chapter 10
KEITH DOYLE had not been to work for two days； not since his nightmarish experience in the Evershams' garage。 But he couldn't just sit at home doing nothing； the snakes might not be caught for weeks and it could cost him hundreds of pounds in lost earnings。
'Now； don't you get going out gardening。' His mother turned from the sink； fixed him with a disapproving stare； a pleading； frightened look in her eyes。 'We don't want any more trouble。 It's a wonder I didn't have a heart attack last time。 I'll sit here worrying myself to death if you go out of the house。'
'There's nothing whatever the matter with your heart；' he snapped irritably。 'You're as fit as I am。 You're just using emotional blackmail to try and keep me at home。'
'You'll be safe here。' She dried a plate vigorously； sensed that she was fighting a losing battle； decided to change the subject。 'How's Kirsten？ You haven't brought her home lately； is everything all right between you？'
He bit his lip； had to stop himself from snapping； 'It's none of your business； Mother。' He had not seen Kirsten for three days now。 After his experience with the rattlesnake at the Evershams' he had spent the whole evening being interviewed by reporters eager for the latest snake story； and when he had finally gone to meet Kirsten she wasn't there。 She had probably given him up and gone home。 He should have gone to her house but he didn't。 Diplomacy； or was it just bloody cowardice？ The next morning he phoned the drapery shop in town and Mrs Holloway's caustic voice informed him； 'She's not in today。' That was all； no reason； no 'Thank you for calling； she'll be in tomorrow。' Later he had tried to phone Kirsten at home but there had been no reply。 And the phone rang unanswered again yesterday。
All sorts of fears crammed his frustrated mind； relegating escaped snakes to incidentals。 Maybe the Davis family had left Stainforth for the time being； were keeping clear until it was safe。 Kirsten's parents were like that； the kind who would have fled to America at the outbreak of war。 They were the bloody cowards； not him。
Today he had to do something positive。
'You two haven't had a tiff； have you？' Oh Christ； Mother was always so persistent； never let anything drop。
'Of course not。 She mentioned something about they might be going to stay with relatives until the snakes were all caught。'
'Then you don't have any reason to go out； Keith。'
Oh bloody hell！ 'I'm going up to Yardleys'。 All I have to do there is to cut the lawns。 I don't have to weed overgrown borders where 。 。 。 where snakes might be lurking。'
'The lawns don't need cutting。' Joan Doyle was tight…lipped； clutching at straws now。 'Nobody wants their lawns mowing when the sun's scorching up the grass day after day。 The lawn will die if you mow it。'
'It'll grow long and straggly if I don't take the top off it very soon。'
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