Craven Manor(21)

“All right. Hang on a minute. I’ve got something to ask first. D’you think you could get me a job at your mansion? Put in a good word for your buddy?”

Daniel’s buzz was starting to fade, but dizziness persisted. He licked his lips. “I would if I could, but I don’t think he’s looking for new employees. His instructions specifically said not to invite anyone else to the house.”

“Come on, help me out here. Haven’t I been good to you? We’re blood, you and I.” Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Or are you going to drop me now that you’ve got a cushy gig trimming grass?”

“We… we’re not blood. Cousins by marriage.” The dizziness was getting worse. Daniel rubbed at his forehead, trying to clear his mind. “And I don’t trim grass. It’s a lot of work. The place is a mess.”

Kyle drained the last of his beer then slammed the empty bottle onto the bench. “Look, man, I’ll level with you. I need a new job. My boss is riding my ass constantly, and the pay is trash. I know you earned more than what you gave me tonight, and a job like that could set me up for life. All I’m saying is, I saved you from the streets. You owe me.”

“I-I…” The lights were far, far too bright. Daniel stood, and the vertigo rushed through him like a wave. “I’ll talk to him. Write him a letter. But I can’t promise anything, okay?”

Kyle slapped his shoulder, his grin back in place. “Attaboy. You and me, we’ve got to stick together, don’t we? Go and see what strings you can pull for your buddy.”

The night air was chill, but Daniel appreciated the sting on his skin. It helped chase the fog out of his mind and give him purpose. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he and Kyle strode towards the apartment, Kyle chatting about the new game he’d bought.

Something’s not right. His fingers wiggled in the pockets, but they were empty. Daniel pulled up short. “Kyle! The coin’s gone.”

“Huh?” Kyle squinted at him. “Whatcha mean?”

“The coin—I gave it to you to look at. What happened to it?”

“I put in on the bar. What? You didn’t pick it up?”

Daniel dashed back to the stocky brick building on the corner of the street. The bar was packed. He could only pray no one had taken the coin in the couple of minutes he’d been gone.

The vertigo made him a serious liability as he wove through the crowd to reach the section of the bar he’d been sitting at. The seats where he and Kyle had been sitting were still empty, but the coin was nowhere to be seen. Daniel scanned the wooden slab and the nearby ground, feeling helpless frustration rise in his chest, then waved to the barkeeper. The bearded man shot him a sour glare but grudgingly approached.

“Did you see my coin?” Daniel fanned his fingers over the bar to emphasise the empty space. “It was right here. Did you find it and take it to keep it safe?”

“Sorry, buddy.” The barkeep shrugged, but his expression seemed genuinely regretful.

Daniel hovered there, the sting of loss and burn of humiliation warring for precedence. A hand clapped his shoulder, and he turned to meet Kyle’s grim smile.

“Not here?”

“No, gone.”

“What a bummer.” Kyle shrugged. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but I guess I already did.”

“Don’t joke. This is serious.” Daniel scanned the crowd, looking for flashes of gold amongst the glinting bottles and glasses the patrons held. His heart sank in tandem with his shoulders. Whoever had taken it must have pocketed it.

Kyle slung an arm across Daniel’s shoulders. Together, they walked back outside, into the night.

Daniel exhaled and watched the plume of condensation evaporate. “What time is it?”

“Just on eleven, buddy. Want to go somewhere for round two?”

“Can’t.” Daniel extracted himself from the embrace. “I’ve got to get back. Curfew.”

As he jogged down the street to collect his bike, he heard Kyle call after him. “Don’t forget to ask about that job!”



I shouldn’t have made that promise. Daniel scowled to himself as he tugged the bike along the bendy, unstable flagstones of the road to Craven Manor. Bran might actually hire him. Best-case scenario, Kyle’s behaviour will taint me by association. Worst case, I might actually lose my job.

Kyle wasn’t a hard worker. He did enough to cover himself when his boss was around, but Daniel had seen how his cousin behaved when he wasn’t being watched. His forty-minute lunch break would stretch into two or three hours of sipping beer in the shade and cracking jokes with his friends. At the manor, with zero accountability, Daniel doubted Kyle would do anything.

You should have known better, idiot. He saw what you earned. That was why he took you out for the beers. He never does anything like that without expecting a favour in return.

The bike caught on a root, and Daniel had to kneel to untangle it. When he straightened, he’d lost track of which direction he’d been travelling. The mossy ground between the roots and shrubs was void of flagstones.

He twisted, searching behind himself, and felt a ping of dread. He was already cutting his curfew close; what happened if he wasn’t inside his cottage before midnight?

You can’t have strayed far from the path. He paced back the way he thought he’d come, head and shoulders bent as he scanned the ground for hints of grey. The trees all looked alien in the moonlight. Animals chattered nearby but fell silent when he drew too close. The fear sharpened, and Daniel increased his pace, moving as quickly as the bike would let him. The dozy pall the alcohol had cast over him had thoroughly faded, but the clarity only increased his anxiety.