24

“Sorry about the window,” Mr Armitage smirked as he moved through into what was once a lounge - “may I?” He continued as he accidentally knocked over two towers of magazines and five large boxes - nesting dolls - of Tupperware containing other Tupperware. He shoved it all away to his left, making himself a small perch on the couch. He looked up and saw the flash of eyes through the little glasses, peering around from the staircase. The neighbour, saying nothing.

“I have some unpleasant news to share with you,” he continued, “would you like to find a place to sit?” The eyes simply continued staring back at him. He watched them closely to see their reaction. “Right, well, there’s no easy way to say it. Ella - two doors down - she killed her father yesterday.” The neighbour didn’t blink - glossed over a little - imagining. They remained there a few moments, Mr Armitage willing the eyes to show anything more, or the mouth to make any sound.

“You’ll see one of the boys with me, Calum, but the other lad, Conor, is missing. Police suspect abducted by his sister. Terrible thing.”

“Terrible thing,” the echo croaked from behind the wall.

Mr Armitage held his gaze for a moment longer before looking away back into Number Seven's garden. He considered leaving, but, seeing his neighbour rooted to the spot, further trapped in his own home, fed a little cruelty in him. He wished for fury, but received none.

The neighbour stared out at him. This conversation had been a rich dialogue for him, and would feed him for many days. He stored it all away, his anger at the smashed window, the new disorder of the lounge, with his files and materials toppled and rearranged to give the Bear a place to sit. And the very fact of his visit, more fucking missing children. Him, central in it all again. Saviour of the boy, Calum, no doubt the one to chase down and try to find the boy, Conor, and ultimately, as always, he would be the one to be swooned over for how hard it is on him. Oh, the depth of his love for them. First the sisters, and now Conor. Oh, look how he cares for Calum. But ask again - who is at the centre of it all? Him, the fucking Bear. Sat there, leaving behind a mess again. Yes, there would be plenty for the neighbour to chew on here. He silently offered him bitter thanks, the man at the centre of everything shit. Nobody sees it but him - the generous, open-hearted man - nothing but a destroyer.