Valentina: A Hauntingly Intelligent Psychological Thriller Read Online Free PDF

small round table near the bar.
    “ Most people discover the world when they go travelling,” he said, elbows on the table top. I noticed his eyes were deep brown, that they sloped a wee bit at the edges, which made him look kind. I noticed too that he could be earnest when he wanted to be – after a few drinks anyway. “I discovered books,” he went on, shifting in his seat. “Everyone swaps so you read whatever you get. Sometimes I feel like I need to go to the cinema every night, or the theatre, whatever, and then spend the rest of the night reading. Every night, do you know what I mean? There are all these people out there who’ve read so much and know so much and I feel like I’ll be playing catch up for the rest of my life.”
    “ That’s exactly how I feel,” I said. And, oh God, did I. “At uni there were all these folk who seemed to already know it – Latin, history, you name it – like they’d been born knowing it, you know?”
    “ I do know. I really do.”
    We smiled at each other. After a moment, he made a silly face, to save us both. “Want to know something embarrassing?”
    “ Go on.”
    “ When I got back from travelling, I wrote to Martin Amis and told him I was his number one fan.”
    “ Oh, now, that is embarrassing.”
    “ And that was before I read Misery .”
    “ Don’t worry,” I said, laughing. “I won’t tell anyone.”
    When they called time, he said it had come too soon, that he wasn’t ready for the evening to end.
    “ There’ll be other evenings,” I said. “If you play your cards right.”
    He leant forward and kissed me on the cheek, sat back and grinned, as if he’d done something naughty. “Will you come for a walk with me?”
    “ I will walk to the end of the earth with you,” I said.
    No I didn’t, don’t be silly. I just thought it. What I actually said was, “OK.”
    We were heading down Hope Street, towards the corner with West Regent Lane when a bunch of lads came hurtling towards us along the pavement. All limbs and scuffle, they could have been no more than five or six in number. The noise they were making, the speed they were travelling, this was the kind of drunk trouble you got in town at midnight on a Friday. Curses flew, fists rose and landed. My body registered the deep jolt that comes with impromptu violence. I pushed Mikey to the wall, into the shadows. We stayed still, stayed silent. I hoped they would rumble on by. But they stopped, dispersed a moment, catching their breath. In the middle, a young lad of about seventeen staggered into the road and fell into the gutter.
    “ Kick him,” one of the others shouted. “Come on.”
    “ It’s four against one,” I whispered to Mikey. “That’s no’ fair.”
    “ Shona, you’re ...” he hissed but I was already striding forward, into the light.
    “ Oi,” I shouted. “Don’t you dare. You’ll do no such thing.”
    I was in amongst them. Maybe my woman’s voice was a shock to them – the wrong pitch, the wrong time of night, because they paused, still breathing heavily, caught in an ugly game of musical statues. Maybe they were trying to figure out who’d shouted. I’m barely five foot two.
    “ He’s only a lad,” I said. “Go on with you, go on. You don’t want to do be doing this.”
    “ What’s it to you?” It was the one who’d suggested they kick the poor kid to certain brain damage. He was big, looked like he played rugby or did weights.
    “ What’s it to you, yourself, Big Man?” I looked up into his face, one step shy of wagging my finger. All I had was my diminutive height, the fact I could have been someone’s older sister. “Come on. He’s nae more than a wee scrap. Go home now, on you go.” I took a step closer, saw in the flicker of the big fella’s eyes that it was over. But still I worried he might hear my heart knocking against my ribs. “I’ll make sure he’s OK. OK, pal? Trust me, you’ll feel better in the morning.”
    I reached up and put