For a moment, Mariam was completely dumbstruck.  “What?”

“If you go to the police, I’ll just say you did it,” said Gavin.

If Mariam had been thinking clearly, she’d probably have decided that this was an empty threat.  She’d probably have considered that she had an alibi for last night, and Gavin didn’t.  She’d probably have considered that Gavin had more of a motive than she did, and that the murder weapon, whatever and wherever it was, probably had his fingerprints all over it.  But she didn’t have time to think about any of that until later.  Right now, the only thing on her mind was sheer, boiling-hot rage.

I was going to help you, you ungrateful little twat!

She thought she saw something change in his face, as if he’d heard the words that had just come out of his mouth and realised how they sounded.  She didn’t have much time to notice it, though.  There was a pile of books on the nearest surface, big hardbacks that you could use to crush insects, and with one long arc of her arm Mariam swept them up and hurled them at Gavin’s chest.  It didn’t knock him to his knees like she’d hoped, but it did make him stumble back a couple of steps so she could push past him and run out into the maze of bookshelves.

She ran, zig-zagging through the shop so she’d be harder to catch, dodging the little dips in the floor, jumping over the unexpected steps that came out of nowhere, but Gavin wasn’t trying to catch up with her at all.  He must have run in a straight line, because as soon as Mariam was within sight of the front door, she saw him standing there.  She shrunk back behind the shelves, hoping he hadn’t spotted her.

He flicked the latch closed so that no more customers could get in, then turned around and held something in the air.  “Mariam!” he called out, “I’ve got my dad’s lighter!”  His hands shook as he held it, but he managed to press the button and summon up a tiny, two-second flame.  Even that was far too much of a risk in a building full of dry paper and dead ends, though, so Mariam stepped out to face him. Maybe she could talk some sense into him after all.

“What do you want, Gavin?”  Her voice came out calmer than she’d expected.  A low, grumbly, I’m-sick-of-this kind of voice, as if he was a small kid throwing a hissy-fit instead of a teenager threatening to burn down a shop.

“I told you,” he said, and she could tell he was clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, “I want to go away and start over.  Somewhere else.”

“And you’re going to start your new life by burning your only friend to death?”

“Shut up!” he screamed, eyes screwed up tight, “Shut up!”

“Why did you think any of this was a good idea, Gavin?  You could have…”

He lunged at her.  Despite herself, she took a step back- Gavin might not have been the most physically intimidating person, but if he could break his father’s neck then he could probably do some serious damage to her as well.  But before she knew what had happened, her foot missed the ground and she tipped all the way over, falling and hitting her elbow on the floor.  She’d tripped over one of those unexpected steps.

Gavin saw what happened and tried to keep his balance, but he was leaning too far forward to do it.  He stumbled and threw out a hand, landing on top of Mariam’s legs.  The lighter, still flickering, fell sideways, into the nearest bookshelf.

For a moment, they both stared, mesmerised, as the books began to glow and darken, consumed by the flames.

Mariam was the first to snap out of it.  She shoved Gavin away, got to her feet, and ran.  She was going in the opposite direction to the door, but as long as it got her away from the fire, that was OK.  She could circle round and get to it that way.  This place was a bloody maze, but she’d been working here for five months.  She knew her way around.

*

Mariam ended up making that anonymous phone call after all.  She told the fire brigade that she’d seen smoke coming out of Swordpoint Books just off the High Street, and it looked pretty bad.  She hadn’t bothered to say any more than that- Gavin would have to explain it when they got there.  She hadn’t seen him come out, but she’d left the front door open for him.  He’d be fine.

She left the phonebox as soon as she’d hung up, just in case they did manage to trace it and sent someone along to catch the caller in the act.  From here, it was just a short walk to her house.  Her clothes still smelt of smoke, but her parents would still be at work and her siblings never noticed much.  When word got around about the fire at Swordpoint Books, she’d just say it had started after she left.  It was past closing time anyway.

Mariam hoped the fire brigade would assume that Mr Bridger had died in the fire.  She might not have liked Gavin much anymore, but… well, everyone deserved a new start.  As long as he didn’t try to drag her name into this, she’d keep quiet about it.

Swordpoint Books had been like nowhere else on Earth.  When you thought about it, that was probably a good thing.

The End

They opened the shop.  Customers came in and wandered about, becoming little more than rustling noises in distant aisles until they emerged with something to buy.  Money went into the till.  And around once an hour, Mariam found herself standing by the break room door, as if she’d been drawn back by a magnet.

It was locked- she knew that because she’d tried it.  She was pretty sure the keys were in one of the drawers of the front desk, but she hadn’t checked.  Gavin had been behind the desk most of today, and he’d want to know what she was up to.

What was she up to, anyway?  When she’d tried the doorknob, she’d told herself that she was just checking to make sure that customers couldn’t wander in, but that wasn’t true.  The actual reason, as simple as it was ghoulish, was that Mariam wanted to see the body.  Not out of morbid fascination (at least, she didn’t think so), but because, until she saw it, she wouldn’t completely believe it was there.  The longer the day went on, the more she felt as if she was having a dream, one of those weird ones where nothing worked the way it should and you woke up feeling really uneasy without knowing why.  Actually seeing the damn thing might be enough to shock her back into reality.  Until then, part of her would suspect that Gavin was playing an elaborate, tasteless joke on her.

It was half an hour before closing time when Mariam saw her chance.  A customer went up to Gavin and asked him to help her find the newest Maeve Binchy, and as soon as they were out of sight, Mariam went behind the desk and opened the drawer.  Sure enough, there, lying on top of all the paper and debris, was a ring of keys.

Instead of going straight to the break room, she palmed the keys and waited behind the desk for a few minutes.  Gavin would have fewer questions about why she was standing behind the desk than about why she was sneaking about behind the desk.  This way, she was just making sure it wasn’t unmanned.  When Gavin came back, he gave her a grateful smile, and she came out from behind the desk, supposedly stepping aside so that he could go back.  She didn’t run for the break room door.  She walked along at a professional clip, as if she’d been asked to sort out an issue on the other side of the shop.

The door was shabby, blue, and completely unassuming.  There was no strange smell, there was no sinister vibe, there was no disturbing background music.  Mariam had it open before she even had time to prepare for it.

Mr Bridger was in there, alright.

He could almost have just been sleeping in his chair.  Almost, because Mariam found it hard to imagine him being this silent even when he was asleep.  She’d thought that seeing the body would be the thing to bring her back to Earth, but now she was here, it was the silence that did it.  He was definitely dead.  He’d never have been that quiet if he was alive.

Gavin hadn’t covered up his face, and Mariam didn’t dare to look directly at it.  She took a step forward, looking for a cloth or a blanket or something, and she saw something out of the corner of her eye.  There was something wrong with Mr Bridger’s neck.

She went round to the back of the chair, and looked properly.  His head was slumped to one side.  No, not just slumped- bent.  As if it had suddenly…

As if someone had…

Gavin.

Of course he had.  Why wouldn’t he?  He’d probably wanted to do it for years.  And no wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone his dad was dead.  Why had he even told her?  Why hadn’t he just run off last night?  Wasn’t there money in the till from yesterday?  There must have been!  Why had…?

Mariam took a deep breath.  She crouched down and looked at the floor, trying to feel less light-headed.  They were going to have to work something out.  They couldn’t just leave him here- someone would find him and work out what had happened.  They had to…  Mariam didn’t know what they had to do, but they needed to work it out as soon as possible.

She straightened up, and saw Gavin standing in the doorway.

She met his eyes.  For a moment, neither of them said anything.  Once again, Mariam tried to work out the one perfect thing to say.  She might have actually managed it this time, if Gavin hadn’t spoken first.

“I’ll just say you did it,” he said.

(To Be Concluded)

At school the next day, all Mariam could think about was her shift that afternoon.

“He’ll be in a better mood then,” Gavin had said, but better than what?  Better than flinging two yards of steel across the room?  Better than almost stabbing his son through the wrists with fifty rusty nails?  There were a lot of things that were better than the way Mr Bridger had behaved yesterday that were still pretty damn horrible in their own right.  The way Mr Bridger behaved every other day, for a start.

Half of it was fear, the not knowing what would happen this afternoon and whether she’d be able to deal with it.  The other half was Gavin.  Her mind kept going back to it, the way he’d looked at the floor instead of at her.  The night stretching out ahead of him, dark and empty, with nothing to do but pray that his father’s path didn’t cross his before morning.  There was a sour, aching knowledge of how unfair this was.  Gavin was a good person, but he’d been given that dark, empty night anyway.  It was wrong, so wrong that it made the whole universe seem out of joint.  Mariam would have given just about anything to put it right.

As she turned onto the side road near the High Street, Mariam steeled herself for something unpleasant.  She didn’t expect to see Gavin sitting on the kerb just outside Swordpoint Books, waiting for her.  In the shop window, the shutters were down and the “closed” sign was up.

“Gavin?” she called out, “What’s going on?”

He leapt to his feet as soon as he saw her.  “Thank God you’re here.”  He put a hand on her upper arm to guide her into the shop.  “Quick, come in.”

Mariam held up a hand, and took a good look at him.  He was pale, much more so than usual, with big shadows under his eyes.  He hadn’t looked this shaken when she’d last seen him.  And what could possibly have happened that was worse than what had happened yesterday?  “Gavin, seriously, what’s going on?”

His eyes darted from side to side.  “I can’t tell you out here.  Let’s go into the shop.”  He opened the door and stood aside for her to go in.

She could tell there was something wrong as soon as Gavin closed the door behind them.  It was completely silent.  No smoker’s coughs, no low, grumbling breaths, no loud smacks of the lips.  No sound out here, and no sound from behind the door of the break room.  It was as if every trace of Mr Bridger had departed from Swordpoint Books.

“He’s dead,” said Gavin, “I found him in the break room this morning.”

Mariam stared at him.  It’s a joke, she thought, It’s got to be.  “What?  How?”

Gavin shrugged.  “Heart attack?  A stroke, maybe?”

“Didn’t the doctors say?”  Mariam hadn’t moved from the spot since they’d got inside.  Part of her thought she should step forward and pull him into a hug- if any other friend of hers had told her their dad had died, she’d have done that before asking stupid questions- but another part thought that would be the most hypocritical thing she could possibly do.  She’d probably wished Mr Bridger dead fifty times last night.

Gavin didn’t reply.  He just looked at her, face completely blank.

“Well?  Didn’t they?”  But even before she said it, Mariam was pretty sure she knew what the answer was going to be.

“I haven’t told anyone,” Gavin said quietly, “He’s still in there.”

There were two or three sets of shelves in between them and the break room door, but Mariam looked in that direction anyway, as if she thought its new ghastly aura was going to penetrate through everything else.  Mr Bridger was dead.  There was a dead body in this building, less than twenty yards away.  Mariam should have been scared, or disgusted, or something other than vaguely cold and queasy.  She swallowed as sharply as she could.  “Why not?”  It came out as a whisper.  She wasn’t sure if she’d meant it to.

Gavin held his arms out helplessly.  “I don’t know.”

“Well… we’ll do it now, OK?”  Mariam felt in her coat pockets for her dad’s old phone- he’d given it to her a couple of months ago, for emergencies.  “Do you know what number we need to call?  I guess 999 wouldn’t be…”

Gavin’s hand shot out and rested on Mariam’s wrist.

She stopped looking.  “What?”

“Please don’t.  Not yet.”

Mariam took her hands out of her pockets.  “Gavin, someone needs to…”

“Yeah, but… I don’t want to be here when they do.”  He took in a long breath.  “This is my only chance to get away.”

Once again, Mariam looked in the direction of the break room door, and she thought about what was behind it.  They couldn’t just leave it like that.  They couldn’t.  But here was Gavin, with his big blue eyes boring into her, begging her to hear him out.

“Whoever comes to collect him is going to take one look at me and call Social Services,” said Gavin, “And the next thing you know, they’ll put me in a foster home halfway across the country.  I’ll have to start all over again with nothing.”

“Well, what’s the alternative?” asked Mariam, still whispering, “We can’t leave him there forever.”

Gavin shook his head.  “Not forever.  Just for today.  I need a little money and a little head start.  That’s all I’m asking for.”

Mariam shook her head.  She was completely lost here.

“Let’s open up the shop this afternoon.  We’ll get customers.  With any luck, someone’ll buy something expensive.  And after closing time, we can split the money from the till, and I’ll be gone.  Off to wherever I want.”  A wistful look crossed his face.  “Then after a couple of hours, you can call the police and give them an anonymous tip.  That way, he’ll still get found.”

Mariam wanted to say something sensible, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate.  All she could think was, That might actually work.  She’d use the payphone at the end of the road- that way they couldn’t trace her number- and she’d tell them that there was a weird smell coming from Swordpoint Books.  Or that she thought she’d seen intruders.  Or…

“But where are you going to go?” she asked Gavin.

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Away from here.”  For a moment, the words You could come with me hung in the air, unspoken, and Mariam honestly didn’t know how she’d have replied to that.  She had a family.  They’d miss her.

But he hadn’t said it yet, so she didn’t have to think about it right now.  “OK,” she said, looking him in the eye, “We can open up the shop.  Just for the afternoon.”

A relieved smile broke out on Gavin’s face.  Before Mariam knew what was going on, he stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.

(To Be Continued)