Page 7 of The Psychopath Next Door

Lola let out a yelp as one of the German shepherds went for her. Dylan shouted her name; Rose was frozen in place, staring helplessly. Fiona increased her pace, running past Rose and towards the boys with their dirt bike.

‘Get control of your dogsnow,’ she shouted.

They both turned towards her, and the older one, Albie, who was sitting astride the stationary bike wearing a baseball cap and a baggy North Face T-shirt, sneered and said, ‘Why should I? It’s a free country.’

Eric, the younger one, sniggered.

Fiona was aware of Albie staring at her chest and the urge to slap him was intense. Unfortunately, society didn’t allow adults to go around hitting children, even obnoxious teenagers like this. At least the German shepherds had stopped trying to attack Lola, both of them running over to see who was talking to their humans. They sniffed at her, one of them attempting to shove its nose into her crotch, which made the boys laugh.

‘Mario,’ said Eric. ‘Get away from that bitch.’

‘What did you say?’ Fiona strode over and squared up to him. He was almost as tall as her, long and stringy – the kind of boy her dad would have described as a beanpole.

Albie called over, ‘Hey. Leave him alone.’ He was still staring at her chest, even as he tried to defend his brother.

Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona saw Dylan scoop Lola up, cradling her in his arms. Rose stood beside them, glaring at Albie and Eric. The two German shepherds had now lost interest in both Fiona and Lola. One of them had found some fox poo to roll in and the other had run off in pursuit of a bee.

Then Rose said, ‘I hope you crash that bike and die.’

Albie’s expression was classic. His mouth formed an O, but then he grinned, and Fiona tried to intervene but her words were drowned out by the bike’s engine as Albie started it up again. He rode it straight at Rose, who broke into a run towards Fiona, and the bike buzzed past her, just a metre away, making her stumble. Albie roared with laughter as he sped by, turning the bike in a circle and coming back in their direction.

Fiona shouted, ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

Fiona, Rose and Dylan stood together as Albie circled them on the bike. His brother stood where he was, watching Albie go round and round. Albie didn’t say anything, just kept grinning that shit-eating grin as he sped through the long grass, the engine loud like a prodded wasps’ nest.

Fiona felt it build inside her. Red and hot and strong, spreading through her veins, her stomach, her chest. These little squirts, these nothings ... How dare they? She watched Dylan: he was scared, a sensitive boy, but trying to appear brave for the sake of his younger sister. Rose, though, didn’t seem afraid. She continued to look angry. Ablaze with contempt.

I hope you crash that bike and die.

‘Don’t look at him,’ Fiona said, over the noise of the engine. ‘He’ll soon get bored.’

She was right. Less than a minute later, Albie pulled the bike to a halt, skidding on the damp grass, almost losing control of it. Fiona walked straight up to him. At the same time, Eric came over, with his dogs back on their leashes, which made Dylan, who was still holding the trembling Lola, back away.

It was time to take charge of this situation.

‘You’re going to leave Rose and Dylan alone,’ Fiona said. She kept her voice calm and even.

‘Oh yeah?’ said Albie. His voice was high. He was just a boy, pimply and half-formed. She could picture him in his bedroom, playing video games and sending abusive messages to female celebrities. His younger brother, even less formed, pale and mottled, like he was made of putty that hadn’t set yet, stood there snickering.

‘Yeah, you are. You’re going to stay the hell away from them and their dog.’

Albie and Eric exchanged amused smiles. ‘Or what?’

They’ll find your bodies hanging from these trees.

‘I’ll talk to your parents.’

They both scoffed at that. ‘They won’t care.’

Fiona took half a step closer to them. She lowered her voice and spoke quietly so Dylan and Rose couldn’t hear.

‘Why don’t you go back to your little house and do what you do best. Wank yourselves into a stupor.’

That shocked them. Their mouths opened in tandem and they looked at each other.

‘You’re sick,’ said Eric.

‘I think she’s a paedo,’ said Albie. ‘Fantasising about boys wanking.’

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