Their bodies thrashed around on the floor and noisily scattered metallic utensils. He tried to rise, but the object stuck in his back wouldn’t allow him. It was a long stainless-steel prong, the type with a digital thermometer attached for testing the temperature of cooked meat. The acute pain along his spine severed his breath.
How deeply had it been planted in him? Was he paralyzed? He could still move his arms.
A scream.
It tugged his eyes open again. Consciousness was as slippery as his grasp on the leg, which jerked from under him as a bare foot caught him full in the face. The harsh impact deadened his hearing, warm blood filled his left nostril and darkness closed on his thoughts like a snare.
Wake up!
But his internal voice scarcely penetrated the barrier his brain was erecting against the assault.
Wake up.
No urgency in the muffled command now. He was withdrawing, leaving physical sensations far behind. Oblivion beckoned.
‘Ted!’
His eyelids shot open. The return to the kitchen was as painful as the injuries to his body.
His hand was empty. They’d got free. The consequences of that rushed into him as fast as the room.
‘Ted!’
THREE DAYS EARLIER
‘Ted!’
Ted was halfway up the stairs when the doorbell went.
‘That’ll be Evie and Jakob!’ Juliette yelled from the bathroom.
The couple were always half an hour early. He and Juliette – after nightmare train journeys home – hadn’t been in for longer than ten minutes. Ted descended the stairs and trotted up the hallway to the front door. Behind its frosted pane two figures stood in the dark. He switched on the outside light.
‘Do you want us to drive around the block?’ Evie apologized as soon as he opened up.
Ted could only see the middle of their faces in their scarves and hats. ‘Come in before you freeze to the doorstep.’ He gestured them in and lightly kissed Evie’s cheek.
‘The traffic was surprisingly clear for a Friday night,’ Jakob mitigated. He’d lived in the UK since his mid-teens, but his Norwegian accent had never been watered down. He rubbed his palms as he entered.
‘I’ve just lit the wood burner.’ Ted shook Jakob’s freezing hand. ‘You know where to hang your coats.’ He made his way back to the candlelit kitchen dining room at the rear of the house. He’d been looking forward to tonight all week. And had taken the coming Monday to Wednesday of next week off work to redecorate. He loved his career as an independent assessor, but he was looking forward to having zero foster care compliance forms to process for a whole five days. ‘Alexa, play my dinner party music.’ He wondered if his guests would like his playlist. They all had strong opinions about music, so certain artists had to be avoided.
The device on the counter between the kitchen and the dining area glowed blue, but nothing happened. He could hear Evie remonstrating with Jakob that he’d made them leave too early. Jakob hated being late as much as he did though. He waited for them to hang their coats on the banister then led them into the dining area. ‘We’re doing Negronis for those who aren’t driving.’ He indicated the bottles assembled on the counter.
Evie’s flushed complexion brightened. Even with her auburn curls in disarray after removing her claret beret, she looked really well. She’d been in remission for a good few months, but she and Jakob hadn’t told anybody about their ordeal. They’d dropped off the social radar for a while, but everyone’s lives were so busy it hadn’t really registered. It was so good to see them both. ‘I can’t believe it was last May since we all got together.’
Evie nodded and focused on the bottles. ‘Have you got Aperol instead of Campari? I’ll be flat out after one otherwise.’
‘Got some here somewhere.’ Ted went to the cupboard the other side of the counter. ‘Jakob?’ He’d tried to call him Jake in the past but, after a few beers one night, Jakob had made it clear he didn’t appreciate it.
‘Nothing at the moment, I’ll have some wine with my food.’
Which meant the usual. Jakob would abstain for half the evening, have a glass, quickly polish off a whole bottle and then call them a cab. Ted turned to him with a wry smile. ‘Sure?’
‘Positive.’ Jakob nodded earnestly.
Not even a glimmer that Jakob knew exactly how the evening would unfold. Until he had that first glass, it would be strait-laced Jakob. After alcohol, the louder, red-faced and indiscreet version would appear. Ted was looking forward to him.
‘What’s bubbling in there?’ Jakob eyed the slow cooker.
‘Venison haunch in red wine, since this morning.’
Jakob nodded his approval and flattened the blonde wisps of hat hair that stuck out from the right side of his head. ‘I’m starving.’ His hand scrabbled in the bowl of peanuts on the counter.
‘Warm yourselves up.’ Ted nodded to the tubular burner in the old fireplace but noticed it had gone out.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll see to that.’ Jakob fisted some nuts into his mouth and went to stoke it.
Jakob had put on a few pounds since they’d last met. He was over six feet and thickset, but he had a definite paunch developing. All the couples coming were around the same age as he and Juliette. Ted had a good metabolism, but even running hadn’t shifted his extra Christmas weight. Did he really have another five years grace until he was forty? His older work colleagues assured him that was when everything started to conform to gravity.
‘Smells really good.’ Evie tugged the sleeves of her black sweater over her pale hands, leaned on the counter and fixed him with her green eyes.
He was slightly relieved to have the counter between them and felt as he always did when it suddenly seemed like it was just the two of them. He’d never told Evie, but she reminded him of a ginger-haired classroom assistant he’d had a crush on at school. And she frequently made him feel like he was back in the playground. Particularly as, like Jakob, she was a teacher. ‘Trip to the fjords still happening this year?’ Ted knew it was an ongoing saga.
She pursed her lips. ‘No. It’s all about money and time … and still money.’
Jakob hadn’t been home to see his family for years. They were spread all over Norway and a trip had been on the cards since Ted could remember. He felt for Jakob but understood the limits of a teacher’s salary.
‘Do you have any more kindling?’ Jakob turned from where he was crouching at the burner.
‘Should be some in the bucket.’
Jakob shook his head at Ted and inverted the metal pail for good measure.
‘Why haven’t our guests got drinks in their hands?’ Juliette was standing in the kitchen doorway.
It was miraculous. Only minutes ago, she’d got home from logging traffic pollution samples in Woolwich, windswept and exhausted, and now she was made up. Her silver-grey bob was immaculate, and she was wearing the olive-green woollen dress he’d bought her for her birthday. Juliette never took longer than ten minutes to get ready in the bathroom, but always looked like she’d spent hours there. Ted was glad to see her smile. Her father had passed away the previous September and she’d seemed very preoccupied over the last few weeks.
Evie embraced her, and Jakob quickly made his way over to