‘Upstairs’ Stuart said and went to lead the way,

‘We’ll look later’ Eileen told him, she really didn’t want to go upstairs with him and besides she wouldn’t need the bedrooms, she had no intention of stopping here,

‘Please yourself’ he said as if he wasn’t bothered either way,

Somehow Nathan felt a bit more comfortable and he went to switch on the tele, his young confused mind had switched to holiday mode as he fiddled with the remote control, nothing happened, Lily took the remote from him and tried, still nothing, she slung it on the sofa, nothing in this place works,

‘Mum the tele won’t come on’ said Nathan. Eileen looked at Stuart for an explanation, but she wasn’t really bothered either way,

‘No leccy’ he said,

‘Well how do we get electric’ asked Eileen, her patience growing thin,

‘It’s a meter you need one of these vouchers’ said Stuart, holding a voucher up in the air, teasing Eileen as if daring her, Eileen tried to grab it, Stuart snatched it away, he drew himself closer and started rubbing her breast ‘ it’ll cost you’ he told her,

She hit his hand away, it was certainly not what she was expecting, and her children looked on in horror,

‘Leave my mum alone you dirty bastard’ shouted Lily, she got up to face the man, Eileen held her back with her hand, Nathan stood opened mouthed, the holiday mood now gone and replaced with something far worse,

‘Get out’ Eileen screamed, as her two children looked on, the fear still showing on their faces.

‘You’re a pervert’ shouted Lily,

Stuart left saying ‘you’ll soon learn’ as he did so, and they could hear him laughing as he closed the door behind him, soon, he thought, very soon, Eileen hugged her children not quite believing what was happening.

They sat huddled on the sofa, still not quite believing what the events of the day had brought, wanting Peter to be there as he would sort it, it still felt like a nightmare that they had walked into, somehow still hoping that soon they would wake up, Eileen thought about going to look for Peter and then remembered what the sheriff had said about leaving the building, so they sat and waited and Eileen cradled her children in both arms, an overwhelming sense of fear and dread came over her, she just wanted Peter to come back and take them away from this, they sat like that for thirty minutes, until they heard the front door open.

It was what they expected, this wasn’t fete or destiny, it was something far worse.

Andy Thomas looked at himself in the full length mirror, he run the back of his hand against his clean shaven chin, it always felt good after he shaved, it was like he had cleansed the devil from within him, and his remains washed down the sink, being cleaned shaven made him feel like he beat the devil, he tried to stretch his thinning hair over his scalp, as he did every other day, although it was still no good, he would have to accept that he was losing the battle, or rather his hair was losing him, his brown cowboy hat would cover most of it, however he always took his hat off in doors and always suspected that people were attracted by his bald head, because that’s where their eyes always went, if only he knew it was his own dark eyes they were drawn to, he wondered if he should ditch the hat and just accept the losing hair loss battle, it didn’t seem right that he had to shave the hair off his face two or sometimes three times a day, but when it came to his head it would just not grow, where is the logic in that he would say, he thought it was just another fucked up part of this human world, he really wanted a wig, but there was no wig makers in Underwood,

‘perhaps the new family come from a generation of wig makers’ he grinned at himself in the mirror, he was looking forward to meeting his new family, his dog collar was pristine, he stepped back so he could see himself full length in the mirror, his brown suit looked good, he brushed his hand against his cheeks as he admired himself, he thought the new tenants in no.12 would be impressed.

‘it’s always important to look good’ he told himself, he would not take the bus to Hawthorne, he would walk, it was only 15 minutes from the centre and the air was fresh, the exercise would do him good, and beside that he liked to be seen by the residents, the subjects that he reigned over, for Andy Thomas didn’t see himself as their vicar, he was far more than that, he was their god.

He picked up his clip board that lay on the dresser beside him, he studied his duties for the day, and as he did whenever he left that room, he went to the picture of the good lord that hung beside the bed and he kissed it, he walked on down the stairs out of the front door to meet the day, ‘I fucking hate Sundays’ he told himself.

He walked along Waltwood, that was the road that ran around the perimeter of Underwood, all other roads led from it, he lit a cigarette as he walked, enjoying the hit at the back of the throat, he only laced it with a bit of bush today, after all it was a Sunday, his day of work,  he didn’t want to appear stoned on a Sunday, not that anyone could do anything about it, he just liked the reputation he had built and wanted to keep it, people would never judge him, for he would not allow it, he was glad you could grow the stuff he smoked, but very soon if they didn’t get some more tobacco he would be smoking the stuff neat, he got the Judge to ban the sale of cigarettes and would only be given as rewards, it had worked very well as people would do most things to feed their cravings, and it also gave him a bedroom full of them as they took it off the shelves, but at forty a day, they would soon go, and then he would have to sacrifice someone for the gods to deliver more, for provisions were far more important than people, without provisions you had no people, but he hoped the recent turning of Underwood had brought more provisions as it had done in the past, he hadn’t checked the shops yet to see what their stocks were like, his own cupboards were always bare, he had no use for them, cigarettes and bush was all he required from Underwood, he was under the opinion the people of Underwood needed him more than he needed them, that would always be the case, because all he needed was the will to survive, the people of Underwood could and would not survive without him, after all he wasn’t just the vicar, he was the one who beat the devil.

He looked at the number on the houses as he walked up Hawthorne, he spotted no 12 in the corner ‘a fine house’ he thought, there were plenty of fine houses in Underwood, it was just finding the tenants, but this was his favourite street, it seemed more peaceful to him, more religious, he was sure that an angel or some iconic religious figure had either been born or died in the street, but he chose not to live there, home had no meaning to him, existing was all that mattered.

He could see the trees swaying in the wind some distance away from the street, which gave him comfort.

He stood at the top of the path, he was pleased to see the house was in good shape, he tried to recall the previous tenants, but he could not, their records would be in the library somewhere, but he had a feeling it was a long time ago since this house was lived in, along with many other houses in the town it had been empty for a long time, whilst the empty ones provided work for the gardeners and handymen, he would rather see them occupied, he noticed the garden at no.12 had been kept in excellent shape, ‘I must remember to tell the gardener to take his reward’ he told himself.

He stood at the top of the path to number 12, he took in the air with deep breaths, his chest rising and falling, and he stood like that for a short while before walking down the path.

He didn’t knock the door, he didn’t need to, after all he was the good lord in these parts, he could come and go as he pleased, he was the master of the town, feared more than the sheriff, with his master key he opened the door, though Andy Thomas always thought that if he ever forgot his key, the doors would open for him anyway.