Mortal Ghost | Page 4

a
concrete bench, the dog stopped as well, watching wistfully.
Jesse took a deep breath, lifted his head, and saw the dog.

'You again,' Jesse said.
The dog's persistence irritated him. What would he do with a dog?
Most days he didn't even know where he'd find his own next meal. A
dog would make him stand out, far too noticeable. And shackled: he
didn't want any creature's loyalty or devotion. He picked up a stone
from the ground.
'I'm warning you,' he called. 'Go away.'
The stupid dog came a few steps nearer.
'I don't want to hurt you. But I will if you don't leave me alone.'
The dog moved forward another inch.
'That's it,' Jesse said.
The rock landed on the dog's flank. The dog yelped and jumped back,
then slunk away. At the same time a voice shrieked in rage. Before
Jesse could turn to see who had shouted, something -- someone --
rushed at him and knocked him flat. He covered his head with his arms
as fists pounded at his shoulders, pulled his hair, pinched his upper
arms. After a bit he realised that not much damage was actually being
done. He sat up, pushed his assailant away. Right. A girl.
'What do you think you're doing?' Jesse asked her.
She sprang to her feet and picked up another rock.
'I'll throw it at you. See how you like that,' she spat.
Jesse couldn't help laughing. Her brown eyes blazed at him, fierce with
indignation. She was about his own age, with a long mane of chestnut
hair escaping from a thick elastic. A fraction shorter than him, and very
wiry. He had the impression that she was a ballet dancer -- something
about the way she stood, moved. She was dressed in shiny blue Lycra
shorts and crop top, white trainers -- typical classy jogging gear -- and
her face was flushed and filmed with sweat.

'Go on, then, throw it,' Jesse said from the ground. 'Hit a man when he's
down.'
'Some man,' she said with a snort. She dropped the rock.
The dog in its perversity, in its doggy cunning, came prancing up. Tail
wagging, it began jumping up on Jesse to lick his hands and face.
'Your dog is more faithful than you deserve,' she said.
'It's not my dog.'
'He doesn't seem to know that,' she said.
'It keeps following me,' Jesse said.
'I see. So that's a good reason to throw rocks at him, is it?'
'Not rocks. One rock.'
'As if that makes any difference,' she retorted.
'I daresay it does, to the dog,' Jesse said calmly.
The girl regarded him with a puzzled look on her face.
'Who are you?' she asked.
Jesse stood. He brushed himself off, picked up his rucksack.
'Ring the RSPCA, will you.'
'You haven't answered my question.'
'Nor do I intend to,' Jesse answered. 'What business is it of yours?'
'You're not from here,' said the girl. She took a step closer, her head
tilted at a graceful angle. Again he was reminded of a dancer.

'So? That's no crime.'
This had gone on long enough. Jesse turned to leave. She laid her hand
on his arm. Flinching, he jerked from her grasp and walked away.
'Wait,' she called.
He was determined not to stop. The girl ran round in front of him,
blocking his path. He would have brushed past her but something in the
set of her shoulders, her mouth made him hesitate.
'Please wait,' she said again.
They looked at each other for a while in silence.
'Are you hungry?' she finally asked.
And if she noticed the sweat that sprang up on his forehead when she
handed him the muesli bar from her bum bag, she was considerate
enough not to say.
Chapter 2
At first they walked back towards the Old Bridge in silence, which was
exactly how Jesse wanted it. But the girl had the kind of energy that,
like the river itself, would not easily be diverted.
'My name's Sarah.'
'Jesse,' he offered in exchange for the forthcoming meal.
'Where did you spend the night?'
Jesse shrugged.
'You look like you've slept under a bridge.'
He gave her a mocking half-smile and pointed towards the Old Bridge.

She was shocked but tried to conceal it. Studying her surreptitiously, he
wondered exactly how old she was. With her face so expressive, it was
hard to tell. She wouldn't make a good liar: that smile would give her
away, those eyes. There was something about her ...
Just before they passed under the bridge, Sarah stopped and gazed up at
the stone parapets.
'Not a good place to sleep,' she said.
'There's worse,' Jesse said.
'I don't like it.'
'Why? It's a handsome structure. Look at the curved coping stones