Warhol's Prophecy

60

‘SHIT,’ GRUNTED ROB as the gears of the Astra crunched.

‘Do you mind,’ Hailey said, slapping him gently on the thigh. ‘This is my car you’re wrecking.’

‘Bloody Astras.’ He grinned.

‘Well, it’s more reliable than yours, or we’d be in yours now instead, wouldn’t we?’ she said smugly. ‘When are you getting it fixed?’

‘It goes in for a service tomorrow. Christ knows how much that’ll cost. I think the exhaust is fucked.’

‘Watch your language,’ Hailey said quietly, inclining her head towards the back seat.

‘She’s asleep,’ Rob said, glancing in the rear-view mirror. ‘She has been since we left the fair.’

He could see Becky safely strapped into the rear seat, the panda he had won for her still clutched in her arms. She was breathing slowly and evenly.

‘I’m glad we went,’ Hailey said. ‘It was a good idea. Becky loved it.’

‘So I do have my uses, then?’

‘Sometimes.’

As he swung the Astra into the drive, Rob glanced at the dashboard clock: 7.38 p.m.

He brought the Astra to a halt next to his own Audi, peering briefly across at the other vehicle.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he snarled.

Hailey turned to look at him, at his angry expression.

Rob switched off the engine and swung himself out of the car.

‘Rob, what is it?’ she asked.

‘Come and look,’ he told her, standing back from the Audi to examine it.

Hailey slipped out of the passenger side and wandered around to join him.

‘Oh, no,’ she murmured, looking down.

Both offside tyres had been slashed.

No, that was an understatement. They had been shredded.

Huge lumps of rubber had been cut from them. The now exposed inner tubes, looking like pieces of protruding intestine, had been gouged and ripped with incredible savagery.

The Audi was listing to one side, its chassis sloping down at an angle, the car’s frame resting on the offside axles.

Rob walked around the vehicle to look for more damage.

The other two tyres were untouched. He could see no harm to the bodywork itself.

In the back seat of the Astra, Becky began to stir.

‘You get her inside,’ Rob said wearily. ‘I’ll sort this out.’ He walked back round and looked down at the slashed tyres, shaking his head.

Hailey lifted Becky from the rear seat of the Astra and carried her towards the front door.

The little girl stirred and opened her eyes.

Hailey put her down as she fumbled for her front door key.

Becky stood motionless, the panda still held firmly in her grip.

‘Soon be in bed, darling,’ said Hailey, pushing the key into the lock.

It was as she did so that she first noticed the smell.

Foul, noxious – and horribly familiar.

It clogged her nostrils as she eased the front door open, the sound of the alarm soon filling her ears.

Hailey thought she was going to vomit.

She put out a hand to hold Becky back, not wanting her to step into the hallway.

The vile smell was even stronger now, and Hailey saw why.

She put one hand to her face, covering her nose and mouth.

The dog excrement had been loosely wrapped in clingfilm, then pushed through the letterbox. The several reeking parcels had burst open to spill their fetid load all over the carpet. There were half a dozen of the rancid packages lying all around.

Hailey stared at them with disgust, the stench filling her nostrils.

She felt her stomach contract.

The alarm continued to ring.

‘Fucking kids,’ snarled Rob, gazing at the ceiling.

Beside him, Hailey rolled over in bed and moved closer to him.

‘I’d like to get my hand on the little bastards who did it,’ Rob continued.

‘Why would kids do something like that?’ she wanted to know.

‘They probably thought it was funny. Ha-bloody-ha. Those tyres are going to cost me seventy quid apiece. Still, I suppose it could have been worse. At least they didn’t break into the car.’

Hailey nodded slowly.

‘Kids,’ she murmured distractedly.

She hoped he was right.