"Are you saying that she imagined it all?" Asked Howard, in an incredulous voice.

"Well, it's one explanation." Argued Mary.

"Except, if she hallucinated the whole attack, then that doesn't explain how I'm here, does it? Or the fact that she was found on Wildbridge Hill, half-frozen to death.” Countered Howard, who then walked off, in a strop, towards Hingley promenade.

Mary caught up with Howard and grabbed him gently by the arm. He came to a stop and turned to Mary.

“Hey Howard, I wasn’t saying that your mom was a liar or anything like that.” She said.

“Well, that’s what it sounded like to me.” Retorted Howard. He went to continue walking, but Mary pulled him back.

“Howard, I’m not suggesting that your mother lied at all. All I was trying to say was that, you know, your mom, she wasn’t very well. I didn’t mean that the attack on her never happened… obviously, it did. All I…”

“All you meant was that my mom was actually attacked by a man, but hallucinated the alien bit.” Howard snapped.

“Yes, that’s exactly it, Howard. I mean, you told me about how ill that she was, with, what was it? Schizo-affective disorder… that’s bad, right?” Asked Mary.

“Yep, it’s bad,” replied Howard. “but my mom wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, Mary.” He went on.

“No, I’m not saying that she was lying, Howard. In her head, though, she might have just imagined the attacker to be… something inhuman. Maybe it was the stress of the attack that brought that on, or some sort of coping mechanism, or…”

“Yes, alright, thanks for your analysis, Sigmund.” Sneered Howard, sarcastically. “I suppose that the stress caused her to practically turn into a block of ice, as well.” He added. It was a side to Howard that Mary had never seen before, and one that she didn’t much care for either.

“Hey!” She shouted. “Don’t start getting funny with me over this, Howard. All I’m trying to do is put things in some sort of context…”

“My mom wasn’t a liar, Mary.” Whispered Howard, his eyes filling with tears.

“Oh no, don’t cry Howard, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Said Mary. She moved in close to Howard and put her arms around him. “I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.” Mary continued.

“It’s just…” mumbled Howard, but he couldn’t continue with what he was saying.

“It’s okay.” Mary assured him. Howard Trenton wiped the tears from his eyes, smiled, and then he tried to kiss Mary Broderick.

Mary pushed Howard away from her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Howard?” She asked.

“I thought… I don’t know. It just happened.” Replied Howard. “I wanted to kiss you.” He added.

Yeah, I can see that.” Said Mary. The sea breeze caught at her hair again, blowing it into her eyes. She pushed the hair away, irritated.

“I thought that you liked me.” Howard muttered.

“I do like you, Howard. But only as another member of the family. Not in any other sort of way.” Came Mary’s response. Howard’s eyes narrowed.

“Why, what’s wrong with me?” He asked.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Howard. You’re just… not my type.” Mary informed him, with honesty.

“But we’ve been hanging out together, getting on really well… getting closer. I thought…”

“I’m sorry Howard, but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I think that you’re a great guy and all, and I love to chat to you about stuff, but I only see you as a friend, nothing more than that. I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh, spare me your fucking platitudes, Mary, I don’t want to hear them.” Snarled Howard, with his voice raised.

“Don’t start getting shitty with me again, Howard. I’m just trying to be straight with you.” Mary snapped back.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Said Howard Trenton, his eyes darkening. Suddenly, he drew his face close to Mary’s, forcing her to take a step backwards in surprise, and more than a little fear. “Fuck you… you can find your own way back to Coldsleet.” He went on, whilst wearing a spiteful, poisonous smirk across his face.

Howard turned away from Mary and began stomping towards Hingley promenade.

“Howard! Don’t you dare leave me out here on my own!” Shouted Mary. Howard twisted around in the sand, and flicked Mary his middle finger.

“Fuck off, you stupid little prick-teasing cunt.” He seethed. Howard bounced back towards Mary. Once again, he pushed his face close to hers, but this time, Mary wasn’t going to be intimidated; she gave Howard a shove, catching him completely off-guard. He went stumbling backwards, before tripping over, landing arse-first in the sand. Howard looked up at Mary with surprise. She knelt down beside him, and slapped him hard across his gaunt and pale face. A ring that she was wearing on one of her fingers caught against his lip, and a trickle of bright red blood began to run from Howard’s mouth.

“If you ever speak to me like that again, or try and intimidate me in any sort of way, then I swear, I’ll kill you Howard.” Threatened Mary. Howard didn’t reply; he just stared at Mary with his cold, pale eyes. “Do you understand me?” She asked. Howard started to smirk. Mary grabbed out with her hand, her fingers suddenly clutching at Howard’s throat, fingernails digging into the flesh of his neck. “Do you understand me?” She repeated her question. The smirk fell away from Howard Trenton’s face.

“Yeah… I understand you.” He replied, slowly. Mary let go of Howard’s throat, and stood up.

“Good. I’ll find my own way home.” She said, before walking away. Howard watched Mary as she left the beach.

“Bitch.” He whispered, before standing up and brushing wet sand from off his jeans. Poor old Alfie Whitehouse… I was just gonna do him quickly tonight, but now he’s gonna really suffer… and it’s all your fault, ‘Mary, Queen of Cunts’…

***

Mary Broderick climbed off the bus just after it had pulled in to Coldsleet terminus. As soon as the night air hit her, she began to shiver. Fucking hell, this place can get cold in the winter, she thought, digging her hands into her coat pockets. I need to get out of this dump. I should just go back to Hoffen…

“Maybe not.” Mumbled Mary, out loud, remembering the reason why she had left the town in the first place; his name was Barney Robbins, the landlord of the small unit of private flats where she’d lived, and he was an out and out, sleazy little creep. An image of Barney passed through Mary’s head. He was a very tall man, with short, greying, wavy hair that was receding heavily from off his forehead. Barney wore glasses, and a strange little grey goatee beard. Despite being generally slim, he had a huge pot-belly. He always reminded me of some pregnant fucking pig, smirked Mary, but then she recalled the day, not long ago, when Barney Robbins had tried it on with her, and she began to frown in anger. The dirty little shit… freaky, disgusting pervert…

***

Barney Robbins wiped some sweat from off his brow with the sleeve of his hideous, multi-coloured cardigan.

“I just need to come in, check the windows.” He said to Mary, staring straight towards her bosom.

“Why, Barney?” She asked, sighing.

“Mr Bedford downstairs has reported mould accumulating on the window sill… I need to check the rest of the apartments. I’m just praying that there’s not some major problem here… it’ll cost me an arm and a…”

“Well, that’s one of the downsides with being a landlord, isn’t it Barney? You know, having to carry out repairs and the like.” Interrupted Mary, sarcastically, and without sympathy.

“Alright love, there’s no need to be like that. Now, can I come in and have a look at those windows of yours?” Barney replied.

“Yes,” groaned Mary, “yes, come in.” She said. Barney entered the flat, and walked with Mary though to the lounge. Barney walked over to the lounge window.

“Have you seen any mould around the flat?” He asked.