Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

her place in town that she ran, selling off salvaged items. I hadn’t realised at the time that she meant junk.
    Then we went off to a club by the quayside, drank more and danced. Headed back to hers. Spent the night together.
    We’ve been seeing each other since then.
    Now here I was in her flat. I flicked through the cookbook with its pictures of fancy food made of unobtainable ingredients.
    Sophie burst in clutching a piece of paper, thrusting it into my face. ‘Here we go,’ she said. ‘What do you think?’
    I put the book back and had a look. It was the details on a house, some small place across the other side of town, on South Side. There was a poor image of it printed on the top. At the bottom was a price. ‘What’s this?’ I said.
    ‘House details.’
    ‘House details?’ I turned the sheet over in case there was some clue as to why this mattered.  
    She took my hand, held it really tight. ‘For us, Trent, when you get all your savings together. We can pool it with mine. The Committee are selling some off. We get a place. Together.’ She grinned. A great smile that hit her ears.  
    That had been a mistake: telling her about my savings. I’d only done it because I’d been drunk. Thinking aloud. Now she was staring at me. It seemed this was the point where I was supposed to say something positive and supportive. ‘Right,’ I said.  
    ‘What do you think?’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘The house? Is this the one?’
    I stared down at the sheet, as if something useful would pop out, some information that would help me ease out of this. After a few seconds I said, ‘It’s quite a way from town.’  
    She snatched the sheet from me. ‘Forget it. Don’t worry about all the effort I put into this.’
    ‘Sorry, I just —’
    ‘Don’t Trent.’ She crossed her arms, turned her head away from me. Then she was off out of the room, leaving me there on my own. Me and the ornaments. There was clattering from the kitchen as she shifted stuff around. It was tempting to just leave. Get the fuck out of there and go home.  
    Sophie had ideas in her head. About her future. About me and her — us living together. There was no way I was going to move into a place with her. No chance. She really didn’t get it. This was just a fling, a passing thing that we’d both slid into. It was easy and worked for now but it was nothing more than that.
    She didn’t come back in so I settled onto the settee. Although hideous to look at, it was comfortable. And the room was warm, heated by her gas fire, another antique but one that worked. She often complained that the Faeston gas sooted it up but it still pumped out the heat. Sophie liked things easy, comfortable. Soft furnishings, plenty of food and warmth. Small talk. Nothing was difficult here. When I stayed over we’d often lie in until midday the next day.  
    Maybe it was too easy.
    Muted cries came from the gulls outside mixed with the distant sound of voices at the quayside. I stretched my legs and splayed out on the settee. It was odd she hadn’t asked me about the other night, The Incident, when I’d brought it up.
    That was what she was poor at, serious stuff. It was impossible to talk anything through with her.
    My head hurt from the things that were rattling though it. The Incident, Gehenna. The new woman turning up at the races. Ongoing problems with Round Up. Now Sophie wanting to settle down. Buy a fucking house. I shut my eyes and rubbed them.
    So much to think about. Too much.
    Then there was a noise from outside. A great roar like a giant wave crashing on a beach. Shouts and cries. I went to the window. A wall of water charged up the lane, swamping the people standing there, rushing into doorways before it receded back down to the quayside. The cause was in the harbour. Between the smashed hulls of boats was a giant ship, a great black shape that stood above all of them. On top of its massive hull was the dark oblong of a conning tower. It was Gehenna,