Page 9 of Twisted Paths

Someone. Anyone. Please turn up before we both perish.

The smell clings to the air, thick and inescapable. Mrs Higgins takes a few determined steps away from Bernard, and I follow, my sleeve still clamped over my nose.

“This is unbelievable,” I mutter. “We are outside. In fresh air. And it’s still here.”

Mrs Higgins shakes her head, eyes watering. “It’s like it’s… settling.”

I shudder. That’s an image I didn’t need.

Just as I take another step back, movement catches my eye. Someone is approaching from the village, walking at a steady, measured pace.

Tall. Hood up. Hands in his pockets.

Luke!

The man who, up until yesterday, had successfully avoided engaging with most of the village. The man who, for reasons known only to himself, is now striding directly towards us. I didn’t think he would take me up on the offer.

I watch as he slows, frowning slightly as he clocks me and Mrs Higgins standing a good six feet away from Bernard, both looking deeply traumatised.

His gaze flicks to the dog, then back to us. He tilts his head. “What’s going on?”

Mrs Higgins, always the picture of composure, clears her throat. “Oh, nothing, dear. Just—” She pauses, struggling for words. “Just giving Bernard a bit of space.”

Luke’s frown deepens. “Space?”

I shoot Mrs Higgins a desperate look, silently begging her to leave it there.

She does not.

“He’s had a bit of an incident,” she explains. “A digestive event, if you will.”

I groan.

Luke glances at Bernard, who remains sprawled on the path, looking completely at peace with himself. Luke lifts an eyebrow. “Right. And that requires you both to stand several feet away?”

I sigh. “You’ll understand in a second.”

Luke gives me a sceptical look but takes a step closer to Bernard anyway.

I almost stop him. I should stop him.

But I don’t.

Because some lessons, quite frankly, need to be learned the hard way.

He gets two paces closer before his expression shifts.

His brow furrows. His nose wrinkles. He blinks.

Then—realisation.

His head jerks back slightly, his eyes narrowing like he’s just been personally betrayed by the atmosphere itself.

“What the hell is that?”

Mrs Higgins pats his arm sympathetically. “That, dear, is Bernard.”

Luke takes an immediate step back. “Jesus Christ.”

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