Free Graven Image by Charlie Williams Page A

made a call, then closed my eyes for a few moments. When I opened them again, Graven was there. He was holding the lighter fluid from the security cabinet and a box of matches. He turned his eyes on me and said he’d take over now.
    I wasn’t sure about it. I really wasn’t sure. But it was out of my hands.
    I said I’ll tell you why Kelly had been taken away from me and now I have done. Those are the details how I remember them and how I need them to be. Maybe there are other bits, I don’t know. Memories fade over time, and although I could swear this happened only a moment ago it also seems like it happened a moment before that... and every moment going back years and years. And it will go on happening forever and ever until I stop it. But I was going to stop it. I was going to be with Kelly again.
    This time I knew how to reach her.

22.

‘It’s diabolical.’
    ‘Isn’t it just.’
    ‘He’s done it before, you know. Eight times. No, nine.’
    ‘Three.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘It says it in the article here.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘There, see? Bla bla... “no less than three occasions since he was placed at the secure unit seven years ago, after being found not guilty due to diminished responsibility. The last time was two years ago, when he caused terror at a peaceful house party by threatening guests with a machete. Two years before that, he—”’
    ‘Yes, I can read. I still think it’s diabolical.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘His own daughter. Five, she was. Five years old.’
    ‘I know. It says it all here.’
    ‘I don’t think people like him should be allowed to come back to the places they did their crime.’
    ‘He’s not, that’s why they’re after him. Do you wanna buy this paper or...?’
    I was in a corner shop just outside Birchwood Cemetery. I’d rather they ignored me, the old lady and the shopkeeper. I wanted them to carry on whatever they were gossiping about. But I knew that was asking a bit much, me out of breath, sweating buckets and covered in blood. The lady hobbled off out the door and the man tried to act like I was just another customer. He wasn’t doing too bad, actually, although you could hear his controlled breathing.
    I asked him for what I wanted. All of it behind the counter stuff. ‘I can’t pay you,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Don’t worry about it.’
    ‘I’ll pay you tomorrow, right?’
    ‘No you won’t,’ I think he said as I was leaving the shop.
    He was right, as it turned out, but I had every good intention at the time. When you look back, you can see that I, Leon , had nothing but good intentions at every stage along the way, and never intended to hurt no one.
    It was quiet in the cemetery. No one was about except a couple of old dears, a middle-aged man in his Sunday best and someone on a sit-down mower. Still I felt quite tense, like this placid setting was about to kick off big time any second now. I looked again at the mower man. He was as old as the other three and about five foot tall, so I couldn’t see him causing me trouble. Unless he had a Glock under them overalls. You never knew with Graven. You could never tell who he had influence over, who he had corrupted. But it wasn’t the mower man who was getting me all keyed up. I didn’t know what it was.
    Maybe it was just excitement.
    I was going to find Kelly.
    If only I knew where to look. What if Graven didn’t have her here, after all that? I’d chased him most of the way but lost sight of him at the end, and hadn’t seen him come in here. But it felt like he was here somewhere.
    I trusted that feeling. I had to.
    I went to shout her name. If she was here I was going to find out. But I held my tongue on the K. Someone was staring at me, right over there by the big angel-type statue.
    It was the Sunday best man.
    ‘Leon,’ he was saying. Not shouting, but loud of voice. And firm, like someone getting respect from a dog. ‘Leon!’
    I turned and went the other way, just wanting to get away from