Page 4 of Only a Monster

‘Mr Solt?’ she said.

He staggered, and his hands shot out, grabbing Joan’s shoulders. She jerked back instinctively, and his heavy grip tightened.

And then it was weirdly like they were scuffling, even though Mr Solt was only trying to get his balance back.

Joan looked over her shoulder, trying to see through the café windows, but she was angled away, closer to the bank. A motor vroomed tinnily to life from inside the café. A vacuum cleaner. Joan looked the other way—the way Nick would walk up. But Kensington High Street was emptier than she’d ever seen it.

Mr Solt bore down on Joan’s shoulders. Joan’s legs shook with the effort of holding him up. She was ridiculously reminded of the time she’d tried to take the mattress off her bed and had collapsed under its weight. She’d had to shout for Dad to get it off her, and he’d laughed so hard afterward he’d had to hold on to the door frame.

She tried to laugh now. It came out high and nervous. She wasn’t scared, she told herself. Not exactly. Mr Solt was just confused and trying to get his balance back. In a second, they’d both find their feet.

She wondered how she’d even tell Nick about this when he arrived. This weird thing happened before you got here. Mr Solt kind of lost his balance, and so did I, and then we were just stumbling around in the middle of Kensington High Street together.

Except that then Joan’s knees buckled. ‘Mr Solt!’ she blurted. Mr Solt frowned. For a second, awareness sparked in his eyes. He pushed Joan away from him with a confused shove. She stumbled backward, flailing her hand up to grab his shoulder, his shirt, anything to keep her feet.

Joan’s back hit the wall with a painful thump, and for a moment all she could see was that cloudless blue sky.

And then there was a kind of snap.

And everything went dark, as if someone had switched off the lights.

Joan could hear herself breathing loudly. She felt totally disoriented. She reached out in the dark, trying to feel for where she was, and as she did, flares of light roared past her, making her flinch.

She stumbled back. The lights had been a car.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust now, but the feeling of disorientation was only getting worse. She couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing.

On the other side of the road, there was a burger shop. Joan knew it well. She’d walked past it dozens of times before.

She turned slowly. The café stood behind her, dark and empty. There was a Closed sign in the window. She hadn’t moved, she realised. She was still here. Still standing on the exact same spot where Mr Solt had pushed her.

Only Mr Solt was gone.

Joan stared. A moment ago, she’d been waiting for Nick to arrive. The sun had been shining on her face. It had been morning.

But where the sky had been blue, now it was black. The stars were out. The moon.

It was night.

TWO

Joan looked disbelievingly at the black sky. Night had fallen—not with a gradual sunset, but in an instant, as though someone had thrown a blanket over the world.

She couldn’t make sense of it. A moment ago, she’d been waiting for Nick to arrive, and now . . .

She went to check the time and realised with another rush of confusion that she wasn’t holding her phone. She had a vague memory then of it slipping from her grip in the scuffle.

A car zoomed past, lighting up the street. The spot where her phone had fallen was empty. Joan took a stumbling step, disoriented.

A curl of panic started in the pit of her stomach. She was supposed to meet Nick here for breakfast. But now the café was empty, chairs stacked inside. Her eye caught on that Closed sign again.

God, what had just happened?

Mr Solt had pushed her and then . . . Joan tried to remember. And then nothing. Then it had been night.

The sound of voices made her start back. A group of girls tottered past her along Kensington High Street, chatting and laughing. They were all dressed up and clutching at each other to stay upright, like they were in the middle of a big night out. ‘Ooh, sorry,’ one of them said when she walked too close to Joan.

Joan’s heart skittered as she watched them go. It was obvious that they were just enjoying their night; nothing strange had happened to them.

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