Page 61 of A Face in the Crowd
She seems oblivious to what she’s said. As if someone has accidentally left a bit of their dinner in the hallway. My thoughts are racing.
‘I’ve got to get back,’ she says quickly. ‘I have things to do. Are you still coming tomorrow night?’
It takes me a few seconds to remember she means her birthday party. ‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything.’
Karen heads back into her apartment, but I feel lost. The vet said Billy might have eaten something that poisoned his stomach. Judge was similarly poorly, too – and the pair of them have been allowed to roam the hall. That’s what happens when dogs are kept in small spaces like this: there’s nowhere else for them to walk.
Did someone poison Billy? Onpurpose?
I head along the corridor until I’m outside Nick’s door. I assume he’ll be at work, but it’s hard to know in this building – everyone seems to keep different hours. Until recently I’d have been out during the day.
Nick answers not long after I knock. He’s barefooted and wearing shorts plus a sweatshirt with a Marvel character on the front. His hair is unusually askew and it doesn’t look like he’s left the sofa – or bed – all day. Judge pokes his head around the door and the creeps onto the landing, looking both ways as if to ask where Billy is.
‘Was I being noisy?’ he asks.
It’s only now that I notice that music is seeping out through his open door. I don’t recognise the song, but it’s some auto-tuned nonsense. That’s all there ever is nowadays.
‘No,’ I say, angling towards the darkened corner. ‘Karen found some chunks of meat left on the floor over there. I didn’t know if you’d noticed anything?’
He stares past me and narrows his eyes. ‘Meat?’
‘Beef or lamb – something like that. She picked it up. I had to take Billy to the vet because he wasn’t feeling well. The vet said he probably ate something that gave him a bad tummy. I didn’t know if that’s what happened to Judge…?’
Nick turns to look at Judge, who is ambling along the corridor in the vague direction of the corner. Nick calls him back and the dog turns and comes back to him with reluctance.
‘How is Judge?’ I ask.
‘He was ill for a day or so – but seemed to get over it. If he’d been down for any longer, I’d have gone to the vet.’
We both turn to look towards the darkened corner of the corridor.
‘That bloody Mark,’ Nick says out of nowhere.
‘Mark?’
‘From downstairs. I told you about him aiming a kick at Judge. He’s always had a thing about dogs.’
‘Oh…’
For whatever reason, Mark’s name hadn’t occurred to me. ‘He shouted at me, too,’ I say.
‘Did he?’
‘He was playing loud music last week and keeping up Vicky from downstairs. She’s got a young baby, so I went and knocked on his door to ask him to turn it down. He didn’t seem too happy about it.’
‘Give me a minute.’
At that, Nick disappears back into his apartment and pushes the door closed. I wait in the corridor, not sure what to do. A minute or so later, Nick reappears, wearing jeans, a shirt and shoes. There’s something about his focused, determined stare that makes me uneasy. He re-closes his door before Judge can leave and then he marches downstairs, with me tucked in a little behind.
When we get to the ground floor, Nick turns and strides towards Mark’s door before pounding on it with the palm of his hand. He waits three or four seconds before blasting the door a second time.
When the door opens, Mark is wearing loose basketball shorts and nothing else. His chest is like a Gruffalo’s plughole that’s not been cleared in a few years. The smell of tobacco and marijuana drifts into the hallway as a sloppy grin falls onto his face. When he spies Nick, Mark starts giggling to himself.
‘What did you do to our dogs?’ Nick demands. The sternness of his tone is somewhat offset by the way Mark is sniggering like an overexcited toddler who’s been snorting milkshake powder all morning.
‘You what, mate?’
The way he spits the word ‘mate’ makes it sound like a swear word.
