Chapter 9
Quoth
Ihop along the concrete wall, watching through the window as Mina places two bowls of microwaved curry on the kitchen table. Her mother gesticulates with her hands, talking excitedly about something that makes Mina cringe.
I hate myself for being here, for peering in the window, and for my inability to turn away.
I want to keep her safe. I want to know everything about her. I want things a ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore should never want…
Mina grabs her coat. I dive behind the rubbish bins just as she stomps outside, slamming the door behind her.
She tugs her collar up high, pulls her coat tight around her, and sets off in the direction of the village.
She bows her head as she walks, and stops for long periods on the side of the road before crossing.
I can tell it’s because she doesn’t trust her eyesight anymore. She’s listening for traffic instead.
I zigzag behind her, diving from tree to garden wall to telegraph pole, trying to keep close to her without her noticing me. Guilt gnaws in my chest.
I don’t like following her around. I feel like a serial killer.
Well, I don’t know what a serial killer feels like, because unlike the other two, I’ve never had to kill anything in a book or real life (mice don’t count – they’re just fine dining on legs).
I just sat on a bust and repeated a silly word.
But there are some scary people out on the streets, and Mina hurries past certain corners and houses, her shoulders tense. Even though this has been her home for most of her life, except for those years she lived in New York City, she’s nervous, and I’m grateful that I can be here.
If anyone touches her, I’ll peck their eyes out.
Mina reaches the village and turns into the market.
I fly in after her just as the doors shut and perch on top of a pyramid of Heinz baked beans, one eye on Mina, the other on the grizzled old manager who’s had it out for me ever since I stole a package of Jaffa Cakes from a display and accidentally smeared chocolate across the ceiling.
Mina ducks behind a display of Cadburys, glancing all around as if checking that no one’s seen her.
She shoves her way through the other shoppers, occasionally standing on her toes in those heavy boots of hers, and finds her way to the homewares at the back of the shop.
She loads up her basket with glue, craft scissors, coloured card, and ribbons. Something surges inside me.
I bet this is for that idea she had for the discarded books.
The thought is followed by:
I wish we could do the project together. I’d love to have someone to create with.
Heathcliff thinks art is something people suffer through because they don’t have moors to stomp around on. Morrie enjoys art because art has value, and anything with value is something he can exploit.
But Mina and I speak through our art. I’ve never met someone before who understands that. I wish—
Oh, no, she didn’t.
My eyes narrow. Some lady has seen her squinting at a package and is trying to give Mina her glasses. Mina shoos her away, but she looks rattled.
I poop on the lady’s shoulder as she leaves the shop. It makes me feel a little better.
I hop along the top of the shelves until I find Mina in the kitchen supplies, balancing seven plastic drink bottles on top of her already overflowing basket.
She starts toward the counter, but then she stops.
In front of a display of condoms.
My tiny raven heart skips in my chest.
She worries her lip as she reaches for one of the boxes, then snaps her hand back.
Her eyes blow out, the pupils huge and dark, and I wish, I wish that she was thinking about me.
But I know she’s not. She’s probably thinking about Heathcliff.
Or Morrie. Or both of them together. I try to listen to her thoughts, but I’m too rattled. I can’t grasp her mind.
But I don’t need to. I know she’s thinking about one of them. That’s why she looks so nervous and flushed.
I wish I made her blush like that.
I wish…
“Mina, is that you?”
Mina leaps in the air, sending an avalanche of condom boxes scattering across the aisle.
“Darren, hi.” She forces a smile for Darren Barnes, who’s been the checkout boy at the market for a few years now. Usually, I like Darren. Sometimes, when he’s eating his lunch out back by the loading bay and I’m rooting around in the rubbish bins, he’ll toss me the crusts of his sandwich.
Mina doesn’t look as though she wants Darren’s sandwich crusts. Her shoulders are hunched up and she’s trying to smile, but it’s coming across as a grimace. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Oh, I never left.” Darren stacks the condom packages neatly on the shelf.
“That’s great!” Mina forces her grin wider. She rescues a water bottle before it topples off her pile and creates more carnage. “You wouldn’t want to see the rest of the world, anyway. I’ve been around – it’s just traffic jams, weird-arse coffee, and sabre-toothed tigers.”
“I’m doing well, actually. I’m up for the supervisor’s job.” Darren takes a pen from behind his ear and flicks it against his fingers. “I’ve even got my own apartment, right above the butcher.”
“Oh, yeah? I might see you around. I’m working at Nevermore Bookshop.”
Darren makes a face.
This time, Mina’s smile is genuine. And dazzling. “It’s cool, actually.”
“That place is a little creepy, don’t you think?
It was always shabby, but ever since that Romani took it over, hardly anyone goes in.
My mother thinks it might have a rodent problem.
Rats carry diseases, did you know? They cause the Black Death.
Mother says there was an outbreak of the Black Death recently, somewhere in Africa.
Wouldn’t it be just awful if the Black Death came here to Argleton? ”
“Um, yes, it would.” Mina shifts her basket to the other arm. “But I don’t think there are any rodents in the bookstore. There is a cat and a raven, though. And Heathcliff’s heritage has nothing to do with—”
“Mother told me he doesn’t even have any family.
” Darren gives a high-pitched snort. “And he’s such a grumpy bastard.
I did this customer service course a few months ago, as part of my professional development, and we learned about the importance of making customers comfortable and welcome.
For me, I had to learn not to loom around them and not to make eye contact for too long.
I’m so much better now, and customers respond to it.
That Heathcliff could use a customer service course.
Will you make him go on one? For example, they would tell me that I should offer to help you select your prophylactics.
We have these cherry-flavoured ones that are popular—”
The woman who tried to give Mina her glasses stomps back into the shop and waves down the manager. I sink down behind a health food display as the woman mimes a bird shitting on her. The manager is casting his gaze all around.
“That’s fine.” Mina’s cheeks are red. “I don’t need them after all.”
“Then I shall assist you with your giant pile of towels.”
“That’s fine. I don’t need—” but Darren’s already taking the towels from Mina and heading toward the counter. He allows her to skip to the front of the line. I hop along the shelf towards her just as the manager reaches for his broom.
“These are for… an art project. I’m not trying to mummify someone.”
“I’m sure.” Darren taps on his electronic till. I wish we had one of those. Heathcliff is always fighting with our old mechanical one. I think it works purely on spite and witchcraft. “Hey, do you still hang out with Ashley?”
“Not really. Can you just ring these up quick, please? I’m in a bit of a hurry, and I’ve got to get back to my mum—”
“Hey, get down, you poxy bird!”
“Croak!” I dive for the safety of the soup pyramid as a broom swings at the display.
The manager’s face reddens as he scrambles after me, leaping over rolling tins of protein powder.
I whirl around to check on Mina, but she’s having her ear talked off by Darren and is completely oblivious to my plight.
“—She still looks so classy, and she has the most impeccable taste. No wonder she’s going to be the next biggest name in fashion. And she knows about all the latest things. Thanks to one of her recent posts—”
“I said, get down!” The manager shakes the broom at me. I preen my tail feathers, hoping he’ll go away for a second to get a ladder and I can beat a hasty exit.
“I bet you wish you could see her again, huh?” Mina smiles. She’s so polite, but I fancy I catch a glint of Moriarty-style mockery in her eyes.
“Oh yes! I have so much to tell her about craft beer, and I want to ask her all about New York City and which designers she thinks I should wear. I’ve been saving my money so I can get some Verona Westward. That’s Ashley’s favourite, right?”
“Oh yes, Verona Westward is a fashion genius.” Mina collects her bags. “It’s your lucky day, Darren. Ashley’s actually home for a visit right now.”
“Really?” Darren’s voice squeaks up an octave.
“Yeah. I saw her earlier today, in fact. She’s probably staying with her folks. I bet she’d love to see you again.”
“Thank you, thank you, Mina! I’ll go over there after my shift.
” Darren runs his pen through his hair with one hand as he tosses her towels into a bag.
“I should bring her some flowers. Do you know what kind of flowers she likes? We’ve got some on special for three quid.
Oh, and what’s her favourite craft beer?
If you’ve got a minute, I’ll show you our selection—”
“It would be my pleasure.” Mina’s grin spreads wider. I lean forward to hear what happens next and—
CRASH.
The pyramid of beans collapses as the manager slams into it.
I let out a defiant croak as the broom handle swings toward me.
I dive out of the way, crashing into the chocolate bars and gum rack, before skidding across the conveyor belt, toppling off the end, and wobbling out the automatic doors in a cascade of black feathers.
“And stay out!” the manager yells after me.
I dip my wing at him as I fly off towards Nevermore. After that fright, I’m going to need some of Heathcliff’s whisky.