The tunnel Bradley had spoken of was roughly half a mile ahead, where Ronchurch’s main road passed above the single train track. A passing place lay on the other side of the tunnel to allow more trains to run the route simultaneously. There, he would likely meet old David Moss or Imran Riaz running passengers in the opposite direction. They were longtime railwaymen like Dan, and old friends. In fact, David and his wife had even spent a week in Spain with Dan and Sharon last year, although David had got a tad too drunk a tad too often for Dan’s liking.

  There’s enjoying a drink, and then there’s enjoying a drink.

  When the train approached the tunnel, Dan didn’t immediately spot the thing that had captured Bradley’s attention, but gradually it came into view. A crude, circular effigy made from bones and scraps of cloth. In the centre was a cow’s skull. The whole thing hung from a short length of rope attached to the steel railing running alongside the main road above.

  Dan raised an eyebrow and tittered. “The world is a much stranger place than people realise.”

  The train entered the tunnel.

  CHAPTER 1

  Ten Minutes earlier…

  Although always controversial, Freud struck a responsive chord with his basic image of human beings as creatures in conflict, beset by irreconcilable and often unconscious demands from within as well as without.

  “God, that looks boring,” said Clip’s boyfriend, Xavi, pouting in the window seat beside her, his black hair flopping in front of his handsome face. For a nineteen-year-old, he had an uncanny way of mimicking a sulky thirteen-year-old.

  Caroline ‘Clip’ Piper placed her bookmark inside her text – The Science of the Mind – and closed the book in her lap. Finding time to study was important, but Xavi wouldn’t sit still for the forty-five-minute journey, so she was best just accepting it.

  The 1:05 pm train from Whitegale was yet to depart, but the fresh air drifting in through the middle carriage’s two open doors was refreshing. The season still required a jacket, but T-shirt weather was getting close.

  Not that I’ll have any time to enjoy the sun with all the coursework I have to finish. I feel like studying madness makes you mad.

  At least it keeps me focused.

  Xavi was still pouting despite Clip having put down her book, so she turned to him and smiled. They hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days, so perhaps he had a right to be needy. The stress of her upcoming exams had pushed him to the sidelines, which wasn’t entirely fair, seeing as he always made time for her whenever she wanted it.

  “Sorry,” she said, tapping her lime-green fingernails against the cover of her book. “I’m worried I’m going to screw up and get a C.”

  “When have you ever got a C, Clip? You always nail your exams.”

  “Because I study hard. Lately, though…”

  Xavi nodded. He knew about her problems at home. “How many times do I need to say it?” he said. “Come stay at my place.”

  “You want me to move into your flat? A one-bedroom postage stamp? No thanks, babe.”

  “It’ll be cosy. You, me, a shower… a bed.”

  She chuckled. “I would get even less studying done.” She took her textbook and slid it into her oversized faux leather handbag, which she had got from a charity shop last week. “Anyway,” she said. “I’m all yours. What time’s your lecture, again?”

  “Not ’til three. Fundamentals of Clinical Science. Woo-hoo!”

  “If you don’t like studying medicine, do a different degree.”

  Aghast, Xavi raised both his thick black eyebrows at her. “And have my papa strangle me to death for shaming him? Think I’ll pass on that, mi amor. Although he might actually send me back home to Spain, then, so maybe it’s a good idea.”

  “You still missing Mummy?”

  “No, I’m missing the sun. I can’t take any more of being cold.”

  Clip feigned outrage. “It’s not cold. It’s warm.”

  “You call this warm?”

  “Yes!” She rolled her eyes. Xavi looked a little ridiculous in his bright orange puffer jacket, but he made up for it with his handsome Mediterranean features and slender figure. “I would call this pleasantly mild at the very least.”

  “I would not call it that.”

  “Nobody’s wearing a coat except for you.”

  He shrugged. “I choose comfort over fashion.”

  “Then you must be really comfortable.” Clip snorted and nudged his knee with hers. They’d been seeing each other for four months now, but had only been hot and heavy for half that time. Lately, however, Clip had been backing away. It wasn’t anything Xavi had done. It was just the way she was. Soon as she started to need another person, she shrivelled up into a protective ball and rolled away.

  Better that than stick around and get kicked.

  The train’s horn blared, signalling it was about to leave the station. Two minutes later, the doors slid closed and the brakes released with a hiss.

  Settling back into her comfy seat, Clip listened to the low whine of the motors as the train rolled forward. She’d always liked train rides. Probably because they were among the few activities that made her younger brother sit still for any length of time. One of her happiest memories of Richard was taking the steam train to Dartmouth. A glass cabin at one end provided an unobstructed view of the passing countryside. Richard had sat on her lap the entire journey in complete silence, soothed by the clickety-clack of the wheels and the choo-choo of the locomotive’s whistle.

  Richard rarely relaxed.

  Clip felt a warm hand on her thigh travelling upwards. She turned her head to find Xavi smiling and quickly repositioned his hand closer to her knee. “Pack it in, you!”

  Xavi slid his hand back up again, his pinkie finger rubbing against her crotch and making her tingle. “I can’t help myself,” he said. “I haven’t seen you naked in days.” He leant in and pecked at her neck. “The way you smell… The way you taste… Ay! It does something to me.”

  She planted a palm against his chest and shoved him. “It’s called bathing. You should try it.”

  He slid away from her, a confused expression on his face. “Ouch!”

  They weren’t alone in the carriage. A pair of youths sat ahead on the other side of the aisle, and there was a woman directly in front of Clip – she could see the top of her head. Getting busy on a train wasn’t exactly classy, but she hadn’t needed to be so harsh. There were worse things than being wanted.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Just… not here, okay? I’ll come back to yours after my lecture. Can you control yourself until then, or do I need to call a vet?”

  He nodded, but still looked hurt. Had she wounded his pride with such a flippant remark? It wasn’t as if he actually smelled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I was joking, but it came out nastier than I meant for it to. You smell lovely, babe. In fact, you smell like… what is that, sandalwood?”

  “No, it’s cedar.” He shook his head and sighed. “I swear you’re going off me. Just tell me and put me out of my misery.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Xavi. I’m not going off of you. I just don’t want to be felt up on the train. Is that all right?”

  He shrugged and looked away. “I can’t help what you do to me.”

  She reached out and squeezed his hardened crotch. “Later, okay? It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

  He turned back to her. “Can I at least have a kiss? Is that acceptable?”

  “Of course.” She leant in and put her mouth against his, slipping her tongue alongside his. His hands ran up and down her sides but otherwise behaved themselves.

  “Get a fucking room, innit?”

  Xavi and Clip broke apart, and when Clip turned her head, she saw the two youths ahead staring back at her. The one in the aisle seat was black, with a hood over his head and a blue cloth covering his face. She’d been seeing more and more of these troublemakers lately. They had even been popping up in quiet little Whitegale. The youth’s narrow-eyed glare caused Clip to blush and apologise. “Didn’t mean to gross you out. Sorry.”

  But the youth continued to glare, and he now looked Clip up and down, his gaze moving from her bare ankles, up her skinny jeans, and to her face. “You want a proper man, peng ting should come down his yard, innit?”

  “I… don’t even know what that means.” She tried to smile.

  The youth patted his knee. “Man is saying you should come plant them sweet cheeks on his lap, woman.”

  Xavi rose in his seat and leant across Clip. “The hell did you say, amigo?”

  The youth’s eyes creased at the sides as he grinned behind his mask. “Man best stay in his seat, or he’s gonna get mashed up in front of his spice. Then the mandem will show her a proper good time.” The slightly younger lad beside him laughed and said, “Real talk.”

  Xavi growled. “Idiota. Do you think you sound like a hard man?”

  “Man will show you how hard he is, pussy hole.” The youth reached into the front pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a small metal handle. There was an audible click, and a blade appeared. “Man will slice you up good and proper, bruv.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Clip, looking around for help, but besides the woman sitting in front of her – who was pointedly looking out of the window as if she heard nothing – there was no one. Clip had to stop this from getting out of hand by herself. “Look, let’s take it easy. There’s no need for trouble, is there?”

  The youth nodded at Xavi. “Woman better tell her man to calm down, or he’s gonna get shanked.”

  Is this guy for real?

  Try not to judge, Clip. He could have grown up in an abusive home. His self-esteem is probably tied up in whatever gang he’s a part of. If Xavi pushes him, there’s a good chance he’ll use that knife. De-escalate. I can handle this.

  “Please,” said Clip. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  The youth nodded. “Real talk. Woman don’t even know how dangerous man is.”

  “I’ll bet,” she agreed. “Look, we’re sorry, okay?” Xavi fidgeted in the seat beside her, like he wanted to leap up and attack, but she pushed downwards on his thigh while keeping her focus on the youth. She kept her expression civil, almost flirtatious. Bullies thrived on fear and respect. Give them that, and they had less reason to escalate. “I’m Clip, by the way. This is Xavi. We don’t want to fight you, okay?”

  The youth waved the knife in front of his face, glaring at Xavi. “Your man looks like he wants to fight.”

  Xavi went to speak, but stopped when Clip pinched his thigh. He took a moment and started again. “I don’t want to fight you, amigo, all right? Me and my lady are just trying to chill.”

  The youth thrust his knife out in a pointing gesture. “Then chill, boy. Don’t even look in man’s direction, you get me?”

  “Come on,” said Clip. “There’s no need for that. I said we’re sorry. Can we just put the knife away, please? If someone sees you, they’re going to call the police and ruin both our days.”

  The youth narrowed his eyes at her. “Real talk. Aight, woman, man agrees to a truce.” He put the knife back inside his hoodie and turned back to face the front. “Stop with the kissing noises, though, or man will get well vexed.”

  “No problem.” Clip almost melted into her seat; her heart was hammering against her ribs.

  Xavi was fuming beside her, muttering angrily under his breath. “Idiotas.”

  Clip turned to Xavi and grabbed his face, brought it close to hers. “It’s not worth it,” she whispered. “They’ll be in prison one day when you’re a doctor. Don’t stoop to their level.”

  Xavi grunted, but then he nodded. His fiery temper was a hard thing for him to quell – although he always called it passion. Usually, she liked how seriously he took life, but right now, she wished he would relax and let things go. Especially with a knife involved.

  What mad world am I living in when a random stranger pulling a knife on a train is almost ordinary? I didn’t even panic.

  It’s not that ordinary. My hands are shaking. Should I call the police? Alert the driver?

  No, it will only make things worse. These gang members don’t care about consequences.

  Still seething, Xavi glared out of the window at the passing fields full of cows and sheep. While the last leg of the journey into Birmingham was always ugly, farms and villages dotted the earlier portion. “I hate this country,” he mumbled to himself. “Estoy hasta los cojones.”

  The electronic ticker at the front of the cabin displayed the word ‘Ronchurch’. The train slowed and, for a split-second, seemed to skid on the tracks. If not for having taken the route so often, Clip might not have noticed the slight moment of weightlessness, but as it was, it turned her stomach.

  Help me, Clip-Clip.

  Clip spun around in her seat, ready to confront whichever weirdo had just whispered right in her ear, but there was no one there. The seats behind her were all empty. Had she imagined the voice?

  How much sleep did I get last night? Am I studying too hard?

  “You okay?” Xavi asked her.

  She nodded. “I… I’m good.”

  I’m just hearing voices, that’s all. What would my text books say about that?

  I’m either highly stressed or schizophrenic.

  The woman in front of Clip turned and stared at her through the gap between the seats. Her voice was low as she asked if Clip was doing all right.

  Clip frowned. “Yeah, I’m fine. How about you?”

  The woman was perhaps sixty, with short brown hair, but her eyes were a lively green that could have belonged to a teenager. “You handled that really well,” she whispered. “No telling what people are capable of these days. Best not to get into an argument.”

  Xavi grunted and continued staring out of the window. Clip ignored his mood and smiled at the woman. “That’s exactly my thinking. You also can’t rely on strangers to help you.”

  The woman blinked twice, like there was a fly buzzing in her face. “You’re right. I… didn’t want to get involved. It was cowardly of me. Perhaps if I didn’t have this young man with me, I would have spoken up.”

  Confused, Clip rose to see over the front seats. There, sitting next to the woman, was a young boy of eight or nine. He looked up at Clip with one good eye, the other milky and unfocused. While the woman had greying auburn hair, he had bright blonde hair closer to Clip’s colour. “Oh, I didn’t see you there, buddy. How you doing?”

  The boy nodded but didn’t speak. He was holding a Rubik’s Cube in his hands and fidgeting with it on his lap. His jeans and red jumper both appeared new – bright and vibrant – but his black trainers were old and scuffed.

  “He’s a little shy,” explained the woman, giving the boy a rub on the shoulders. “I’m looking after him while his mummy has a little rest.”

  Clip nodded. This woman was a foster carer. “I understand. My name’s Clip. My boyfriend’s name is Xavi.”

  Xavi nodded to her. “Hola.”

  “Hello there. I’m Gina, and my handsome friend here is Harley.”

  Harley blushed. He kept looking at Clip and glancing away.

  “Pleased to meet you, Gina,” said Clip, lowering back into her seat. “You heading into Birmingham?”

  “No, no. Not that far. We’re travelling into Stirchley to have a little lunch and do some bowling.”

  Clip beamed. “Oh, I love bowling. I haven’t been in ages.” She tilted her head to see the boy through the gap. “Do you know how to bowl, Harley?”

  He shook his head. His milky eye was off-putting, and she tried to avoid thinking about the circumstances that might have led to him losing the use of it. Most foster kids probably went through hell before they ended up in care. Clip had suffered enough in a so-called ‘normal’ family.

  Human beings are like buildings, and childhood is the foundation. Screw that up, and everything built on top will be wonky.

  “We’re heading into university for lectures,” said Clip. She side-eyed the two youths, checking that they were still minding their own business. They were, so she relaxed a little. “It’s a bit of a pain, living so far away.”

  “Why don’t you live on campus, dear?”

  “Money. I don’t have any.”

  Gina nodded and pursed her lips. “There’s always that. Well, the good news is you’ll probably never be as poor as you are right now. That’s the benefit of being a student. It teaches you to be frugal.”

  “I guess. Were you a student?”

  “Oh yes, long ago. I trained to be an accountant and started a big firm with my ex-husband. Lots of money. Lots of holidays. Nice cars. All the things people dream about. I gave it all up, though. Not the life for me.” She glanced at Harley. “I wanted something more.”

  Clip smiled. Now and then, she met a person too nice to be true, and it always unsettled her. There had to be something hiding beneath the surface, didn’t there? No one was truly decent. Everyone was screwed up. But maybe some people were less screwed up than others. Gina appeared nice. She seemed to care. Perhaps she did.

  Or maybe she wore a mask like everybody else.

  “That must have taken a lot of courage,” said Clip. “To give it all up.”

  The woman shrugged. “At first, but once I ripped the plaster off, I realised how easy it was. Life should be about love and compassion, not money and status. What are you both studying?”

  “Xavi is studying medicine and I’m studying psychology.”

  Gina smiled. “You see? Both of you get it. You’re dedicating your lives to helping others. You’ll never regret it, I promise you.”

  “I hope not,” said Clip. She glanced at Xavi, knowing he had little interest in becoming a doctor, and that his father had pushed him into it. He was more interested in music and art. “It’s hard to know what life will throw at you,” she said, “but I’m hoping my degree will at least help me understand it a little better. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Gina. I hope you enjoy your bowling.”

  “And I hope you enjoy your lecture.” Gina smiled and turned back around.

 

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