Matilda

Bristol, 1985.

Robbie flicked the butt of the Silk Cut against the stone wall of the boat house at the old Mill. It burst in a scatter of orange sparks before falling down among the pigeon shit on the concrete floor.

‘Good one,’ said Muff, whose attempt had fallen short and still lay smouldering only a few feet away from the boys’ feet.

Rather than celebrating this minor achievement, Robbie’s only thought was how he was going to get rid of the smell of smoke before he went home for his tea.

‘Just tell ‘em you were round at Muff’s,’ said Gaz. ‘His mum and dad have always got a fag on the go.’

It was Gaz who had acquired the ten Silk Cut, the matches and the Mayfair from the newsagent on the high street before they’d met down at the mill. The boys had all chipped in for the ciggies, but the dirty magazine was a freebie. Gaz had a bit of bum fluff on his chin, so could just about get away with buying fags, but there was no way they were selling him a porno mag. Gaz’s mum made him go to Mass every Sunday, but that didn’t stop him nicking stuff.

Meeting down at the Mill was Muff’s idea. He’d slept there a few times when his mum and dad were having a barny and he didn’t want to be at home. Muff said you’d be ‘shit-scared at night with the pigeons flapping about, but it was alright during the day’. Besides, the lads were hanging out in the boathouse outside by the mill pond. The mill itself was boarded up and the only way in or out was an open window on the first floor. You could just about reach it from ground level on your own, but a leg up made it a lot easier.

Robbie felt uneasy as he stared into the darkness of the rectangular opening that led into the mill. Eyes searching for whatever lay beyond.

‘What about Matilda?’ Robbie asked.

Nobody said anything, though all eyes were fixed on the black hole in the side of the derelict building.

It was Gaz who broke the silence.

‘That’s a load of made-up bollocks to stop people going in. You don’t believe that shite, do you?’

He chuckled to himself, though his gaze remained firmly fixed on the window.

The trance was broken by the alarm on Robbie’s Casio Black.

‘Shit. I need to get back for tea, or my mum’s gonna kill me.’

He jumped to his feet as the other two boys stirred as if coming out of a trance.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow after dinner. Meet at yours, Gaz, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ replied Gaz. ‘Wait, hang on. Who’s gonna stash the porn until tomorrow? I ain’t takin’ it again.’

‘I’ll take it,’ said Muff. ‘No one’s gonna be snooping around in my room.’

As he walked home from the mill, Robbie could taste the tobacco on his breath and he wondered whether he’d be able to slip into the house and brush his teeth before sitting down to dinner. But that was just a passing thought. The mill was playing on his mind, and a nagging curiosity about what lay beyond the window wouldn’t leave him. He had to find out what was inside.

To be continued…