Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [139]
Vincent kept looking at Amy, as if hoping she would say something and the Doctor would have to shut up and leave him alone. Like trying to get rid of a terrible bore who had attached himself to you at a party.
But the Doctor continued relentlessly. ‘I think Justine told you about it and you remember very well.’
‘OK. Maybe she mentioned something about it.’
‘Creed once walked into a restaurant full of gangsters and destroyed their leader with body language. He made him flinch. He made it clear to everyone that the leader was no longer in charge of the pack. And soon enough the pack tore the old leader apart.’ The Doctor’s eyes gleamed now, staring unblinkingly at Vincent.
Vincent was twitching. He looked more and more unstable. The gun was pointing at Justine’s head. What was the Doctor doing? He was going to send him over the edge.
‘You know it’s true. Justine told you about it. Creed was assisted by warlock, but he was manifesting exactly the alpha male principle which Ricky seems to display in such abundance. You’ve thought of that yourself, I can see you have.’ The Doctor smiled at Vincent. ‘Maybe Ricky hasn’t inherited anything from you at all. Maybe he just took after his dad.’
‘OK. Enough of the nature versus nurture debate.’
Vincent was shaking with rage. ‘Like I said, Ricky’s a plant who isn’t getting enough sunlight.’ He rubbed the gun against Justine’s head, as if he was caressing her hair with it.
‘It’s time to do some pruning,’ he said quietly. The gun stirred and stirred through Justine’s glossy hair. And then it stopped.
‘Goodbye, love,’ said Vincent cheerfully.
The gunshot was shockingly loud in the hot stillness of the room. Vincent slowly lowered his hand, withdrawing the gun from Justine’s head. He turned away from her, a distasteful expression
forming on his face.
He moved in a slow circle, took half a step and then his gun dropped from his lifeless fingers.
He fell to his knees and reached out for the gun, moving in slow-motion like a deep-sea diver.
Amy fired again and this bullet knocked Vincent over on to his back.
He rolled over, looking up and said, clearly and distinctly:
‘Justine-’
Then he died.
Justine never forgot that moment, or the great warmth of the relief that followed, as the Doctor unlocked Creed and he came to her. He gently eased the adhesive tape off her, freeing her. There was the sound of cars in the driveway and the others arriving. Ricky and Cynthia, and little Eve. All her children.
She would always remember all of these things. She would never forget the wonderful feeling that she and her family were safe.
But there was one thing that Justine would always remember in particular.
It was just after Amy killed Vincent.
Amy had shot Vincent and removed the threat forever.
She stood, looking dazed at what she’d done, still holding the gun. Creed took the gun from her.
And after he took the gun, just for a second he held on to Amy’s hand and squeezed it.
That was when Justine knew.
She knew that her family was safe but her marriage was over.
Chapter 39
Justine opened the front door. Mrs McCracken was standing on the porch, wearing sunglasses, cut-off jeans, and a tiny halter over her spectacular breasts. She was carrying a galvanized bucket. It made an icy tinkling sound and Justine could see some kind of red liquid shining in it.
‘What’s in that?’
‘Why, it’s a bucket of Bloody Marys, of course,’ said Mrs McCracken. ‘Lots of vodka and tomato juice but I couldn’t find any tabasco. I hope you don’t mind.’ Ice cubes tinkled in the bucket as she lifted it for Justine’s inspection. ‘I trust you have some suitably large glasses.’
Justine led her into the kitchen to collect some glasses before continuing out into the sunshine of the backyard.
Eve was sitting in the sand-box behind the garage, contentedly building castles. Justine and Mrs McCracken sat on the grass under the shade of a tree where they could keep an eye on her. Mrs McCracken served the drinks, the glasses cool and rapidly frosting in