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    The car careening towards the lamp post, smashing into it. His brother hurtling through the windscreen, while he sat in the road watching.

    Morning was a long time coming.

* * *

    Maureen Bayliss piled the last of the breakfast dishes in the sink and looked at her watch. She sighed. Time to get the kids off to school. The washing up could wait until she got back.

    'Mum. Mum, I can't find my boots,' shouted little Ronnie Bayliss from the living room.

    Maureen hurried to the door and pressed a finger to her lips. 'Don't shout,' she rebuked. 'Your Dad's trying to get some sleep.'

    She looked up at the ceiling as if fearing that her husband, Jack, had been woken by their son's frenzied howlings. Jack worked nights at Medworths Foundry, and if he was disturbed while trying to sleep, he'd be like a bear with a sore back for the rest of the day. That she could do without. She told Ronnie that his football boots were in the kitchen and he pushed past her to find them, eventually stuffing them into the red vinyl bag along with his other games equipment.

    'Is Carol ready?' asked Maureen, glancing once more at her watch. 'We're going to be late.'

    A moment later, the hall door opened and Carol Bayliss emerged. She was a year younger than Ronnie, about six, and Maureen was pleased that they went to the same school so that the boy could keep his eye on her. Carol was a quiet child, withdrawn. Exactly the opposite of Ronnie. Just the type of child whom other kids seem to find a source of amusement. She herself had been to the school twice to report instances of Carol being bullied by older girls and she didn't intend letting it happen again.

    Now she helped the child into her navy blazer and straightened her pig-tails, kissing her lightly on the top of the head.

    Maureen peered out of the living room window and saw that the sun was shining, but she put on her leather coat just in case. There were dark clouds gathering to the east and she didn't fancy getting caught in a shower on the way back from the school. She struggled with the buttons, horrified to see that she was indeed putting on weight as Jack had told her. She breathed in and managed to button it, hardly daring to exhale for fear of the buttons flying across the room.

    'Everybody ready?' she said, and the kids scurried out of the front door before her.

    She followed, closing the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake Jack, and headed up the garden path. As she turned the corner, she couldn't help but notice that the curtains of the Mackenzie house were still drawn. It was unusual for June to be so haphazard, thought Maureen. She was usually a stickler for detail. They had lived next door to one another for the last ten years and had become close friends, both of them having their children about the same time. Now they walked, with the kids, to school every morning, did their shopping together and generally went about their business as one.

    Ronnie opened the gate which led down the path to the front door of the Mackenzie house and, as Maureen followed him, she saw that upstairs curtains were drawn as well. They've probably slept in, she thought to herself and reached for the brass knocker, smiling to herself, imagining June's panic when she realized what had happened.

    Maureen struck hard, stepping back in surprise as the door swung open. Ronnie was about to dash in when she grabbed him.

    'Let's go and wake them up,' he said, leering mischievously.

    Maureen suddenly felt uneasy. Why should the front door be open when all the curtains were drawn? Perhaps Ray had gone out early that morning and forgotten to close it behind him. Perhaps they hadn't locked it the night before, there had been a strong wind after all.

    Perhaps…

    Perhaps what?

    Maureen took a step back, pulling Ronnie with her. He looked up at her, 'What is it, Mum?'

    'Come on,' she said, trying not to convey the note of anxiety in her voice. No, why lie to yourself Maureen Bayliss, she thought, for some unknown reason you are scared. There's something wrong here.

    She locked the gate behind them and told the kids to stand still while she went and fetched Jack. She fumbled in her purse for the front door key, went in and rushed upstairs. She pushed open the bedroom door, waking Jack immediately. He rolled onto his back, his eyes bleary.

    'God, what is it, love?' he said, trying not to sound irritable.

    'It's next door,' she told him. 'The curtains are all drawn and there's no answer when I knock.'

    'They probably just overslept.'

    He tried to roll over again but she pulled him back, 'Jack, for Christ sake, the front door is open.'

    'So what?' He was losing control of his temper.

    'There might be something wrong,' she persisted.

    He snorted, 'Like what?'

    'You never know, you read of all sorts of things happening these days, they might all be dead. Burglars or something.'

    He waved her away, 'You're going to have to stop reading The News of the World. Things like that don't happen around here, love. This is Medworth, not bloody New York.'

    'Then I'm going to phone the police,' she told him, heading for the landing.

    He swung himself out of bed and caught her at the bedroom door. She could see that he was angry. 'All right, I'll go and look.' He pulled on his dressing gown and stormed off down the stairs.

    'You're not going like that?' she asked.

    He turned as he reached the front door, 'Why not? They're going to think I'm off my bloody head when I walk in there and they're all tucked up in bed anyway. I might as well look the part.' Muttering to himself, he headed out into the street.

    Ronnie and Carol saw him coming and started to laugh.

    'You can shut up too,' he said and headed down the path towards the Mackenzie house.

    Maureen ran after him and he paused at the door, still open. 'You'd better wait here,' he said, sarcastically. 'I mean, if they have all been butchered, the killer might still be around.' He shook his head and banged on the open door.

    'Ray,' he shouted.

    The house greeted him with silence.

    Mrs Baldwin from across the road passed by, giving Jack Bayliss a funny look. She turned her nose up and walked on. He bowed mockingly and the old lady hurried past. Ronnie and Carol laughed again.

    Jack took a step inside and shouted once more. There was no answer, no sound of movement. Nothing. The hall door to his left was closed, the staircase straight ahead of him. The curtains at the top of the landing were drawn, plunging the house into a kind of murky twilight. He walked into the hall and pushed open the door. Christ, it was dark in there. He swallowed hard, squinting into the gloom, and called again.

    Silence.

    He took a step into the room, casting a furtive glance around. Jack could feel the tension building within him as he padded towards the closed kitchen door and, he almost hit the roof when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

    Scarcely stifling a yell he turned to find Maureen standing there.

    'Did you have to do that?' he panted, his heart thudding against his ribs.

    'I told you there was something wrong,' she persisted.

    He peered into the kitchen and found nothing, discovering his scepticism rapidly draining away. His tone, when he spoke again, had lost its flippancy.

    'I'm going to look upstairs,' he told her. 'You wait in the hall.'

    As he ascended the stairs he looked around. Nothing had been disturbed; whatever had happened it hadn't been a visitation by burglars.