Secrets of a Serial Killer

‘So?’ says Dad.

‘Oh, the pub. With some friends.’

‘And Dane?’

She nods.

‘How old is he again?’

‘Fifty-seven.’

Melanie looks up at Zoe, eyes wide, and then quickly gives Tony a sharp look as if to say ‘and you’re alright with this?’

Zoe suppresses a grin.

Tony shakes his head and pats Melanie’s free hand. ‘And how old is he really?’ he says in a calm voice.

Zoe laughs. ‘Twenty-four. Same age gap as you and Mum had. And you guys were really happy for years.’ She sneaks a glance across the table, but Melanie doesn’t react.

He nods. ‘Which pub?’

‘None of the bad ones,’ says Zoe. Having a former police officer for a Dad has some advantages and some disadvantages. She knows which rough places to avoid, but she also knows he hates her going out drinking when she’s still underage. Him and Mum did it when they were the same age though, so he can’t say much.

‘Don’t go to the Phoenix. There’s some really rough types drink in there.’

‘Ew, that’s a smelly old man pub anyway.’

‘Be back by ten.’

Zoe opens her mouth wide in shock. She’s gutted. She needs to stay out as late as Abbie, otherwise she’ll have to leave Abbie and Dane alone in the pub. ‘Abbie gets to stay out as late as she likes.’

‘You’re not Abbie.’

Even though Abbie insists she doesn’t fancy Dane and is back with Max, she probably wouldn’t say no if she got the chance. Abbie’s the kind of best friend that’s really fun, but you wouldn’t pick her as your first choice for help in a life-or-death situation. Or go to her for advice. She’d ditch you in a second. Only a good friend for a fun situation.

Zoe can feel her face getting hot. She jiggles her leg some more and the table wobbles. ‘Come on, Dad. This isn’t fair. It’s better if we stay in a group instead of all separating anyway.’ She’s quite proud of that point.

‘Okay, half ten, then. You’ve got college tomorrow, mate.’

‘Not your mate.’ Zoe’s phone vibrates again in her pocket. There’s a text from Dane, from ten minutes ago: ‘I’m outside’, and another from just now: ‘You coming? Or shall I go without you?’

Her heart sinks. She shoves down the last couple of mouthfuls of food, grabs her handbag and rushes out of the door, calling ‘bye’ over her shoulder.

The air smells of bonfires. A sudden gust of wind grabs at a kite caught in their silver birch, the kite’s white tails flapping against the greying sky like they’re begging for rescue.

Dane’s waiting on the drive in his old Mercedes, playing weird jazz music on the stereo that she has to pretend she likes so he thinks she’s cool.

‘Took you long enough,’ he says as she gets into the car, slamming the door hard behind her.

Zoe ignores him and slides into the bucket seat. Dane inherited the old car from his Grandpa, and he’s absurdly proud of it. He waxes and polishes it once a week, and watches loads of YouTube videos about car maintenance. To Zoe it’s just an old car with a funny smell inside and a tendency to struggle climbing steep hills without a jerky gear change halfway up.

She leans across and kisses Dane on the mouth, but he doesn’t respond straight away. She pulls back, stung. ‘Fine,’ she says, folding her arms.

‘I’ve been waiting for ages,’ he says.

‘You were early.’ She shrugs. Tonight isn’t starting off well. ‘Sorry, okay? I can’t help it if I have to justify all my actions to my Dad before I go anywhere. He even made me get changed.’ She points at her jeans. ‘I’m lucky to get out at all, really.’

‘I nearly left without you.’

‘Why are you so desperate to get to the pub anyway? It’s only Abbie and that lot.’ She watches his face carefully when she says her friend’s name, but he doesn’t react.

Dane sighs. ‘I don’t like waiting around. And I’m not used to parents like yours anymore: it’s been a while since my mum cared about stuff like that.’

‘Coz you’re old,’ Zoe jokes.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He starts the car and checks his mirrors. ‘It’s nice that your mum and dad worry about you.’

She kisses him on the cheek and he smiles as he pulls into the road.

She wants tonight to be fun, for her friends to be at their best, and for Dane to see her surrounded by people who like her and think she’s cool.

‘Who else is going?’ asks Dane, his tone friendlier now he’s made it clear he was irritated. He’s kind really, and a sulk never lasts long.

Zoe looks out of the window, watching the dark outline of hedges pass by the car as they whiz through the countryside into town.

‘Who’s going … erm. Well, Abbie and Max—’

‘Back together?’

‘Yep, for now.’ She puts on a light-hearted voice. ‘Oh and watch out for Abbie; she likes older men. Like you.’ She laughs and gives him a playful poke, hoping he’ll tell her that she has nothing to worry about, that Abbie’s dull, that Zoe’s perfect.

Dane doesn’t respond to the bait. He’s met Abbie before, but not Abbie’s long-suffering boyfriend Max. Dane actually met Abbie before he met Zoe; Abbie was the one who introduced them to each other. Abbie likes to joke that she would have got together with Dane first if she hadn’t been back together with Max in an ‘on again’ section of their ‘on again, off again’ relationship. Zoe doesn’t think that’s a funny joke.

‘And we invited Phil and Freya, but I don’t know if they’re coming. If Phil’s there then Freya probably will be, too.’

‘Which pub are we going to?’ asks Dane.

Lancaster is small for a city, but there are a lot of pubs. Some good, some bad. There are some cool student bars but they are the ones most likely to ask for ID, and it’s another few months until Zoe turns 18. Most are ‘old man pubs’ with sticky patterned carpets and a betting machine in the corner flashing its lights. Some are rough like the Phoenix, with frequent fights and a bouncer on the door even on a Tuesday night. Zoe’s friends don’t go to those pubs; they go to the pubs that don’t check your age, the ones which accept the fake IDs Max buys on the dark web for a tenner.

‘We’re meeting at Richard the Lionheart, but we might go somewhere else once everyone’s there. Max likes their pool tables.’

Dane nods. Zoe thinks he’ll get on well with Max. She hopes so: if the two guys become friends, then Dane won’t flirt back if Abbie tries anything. Not that she would in front of Max. Zoe hopes.

She reaches out to hold Dane’s hand, but he only gives her fingers a squeeze and then lets go, resting his hand back on the gearstick. Zoe puts her hand back on her lap and looks out of the window.

Dane slows the car as they pass some children walking down the lane.

‘Stupid kids,’ he mumbles, skirting the dark silhouettes walking along the verge. ‘What are they doing out here in the middle of nowhere?’

Zoe leans forward, peering into the dusk. It’s a boy and a girl, about 10 or 11, wandering along the road in the dark. ‘I can barely see them. They should have a torch or something.’

Dane passes them and speeds up again once they’re clear. Zoe turns in her seat to look back at them, watching them grow smaller in the back window until the car drops into a dip and they disappear out of sight. Where are they going, she wonders? There’s nothing along this road – no houses. And no pavement. She shakes her head slightly and turns back to face forward.

‘They’re gonna get killed.’

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