Mirror Man by Jacques Kat (ereader for textbooks txt) 📗

wondering what to say this time to get me to change my ways.

‘John-Michael, you know why PC Williams brought you home today, don’t you?’

I nodded, though the action didn’t mean I agreed. In my opinion, I hadn’t done a thing wrong. Not one foot out of line. It wasn’t as though I was a criminal.

‘You know it’s not that we want to stop you from doing what you enjoy… Perhaps, if you told us why you do it or what you’re looking for, we could help?’ he said, looking to his friend for assistance.

I remained still and silent.

I couldn’t tell them what I was looking for exactly; it was hard for me to put into words. I was looking for something that was missing within me, and I hoped I could spot it within someone else.

‘We’re just looking out for you, John, is all,’ the constable said. ‘We don’t want you getting into trouble—and I don’t just mean with the police. There’re a lot of stran… funny buggers about.’

I blinked back at them from the mirror. I’d had enough of their threats and reasoning. I would think about what they had said, but that would be it. I knew I would probably have another talking to once Mum found out, anyway, and I wasn’t looking forward to the fallout from that.

‘Is it the clothes you’re attracted to when you’re following them?’ Grandad asked.

I shrugged. ‘No, I’ve got my own clothes.’

‘Well, at least he’s not cross-dressing like Les Dawson,’ PC Williams said, then they both laughed. I didn’t know if they were laughing at me or at what he’d said.

‘Can you imagine our John-Michael’s hair in curlers with a hairnet on?’ said Grandad.

They laughed some more, and I interrupted, eager to get on with my day.

‘I’ll take into consideration what you’ve both said, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get ready for work,’ I said to the mirror, then walked away, my mug of tea left steaming on the table.

‘We shouldn’t be laughing, really,’ I heard PC Williams say.

I hovered in the passageway and stood where I could see them, but they couldn’t see me. I knew every angle of every mirror and reflective surface in the house.

The duo both sighed and finished their drinks simultaneously.

‘I really don’t know what else I can do,’ Grandad said, shaking his head.

‘I dunno, pal. All we can do is look out for them and do our best. I best be off now; got a young WPC waiting in the car,’ PC Williams said, getting up. ‘I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the tipple.’

‘Anytime, mate…’ Grandad trailed off, then slammed his fist down on the table when his friend was out of earshot.

Chapter Three

I turned the corner onto the street where I worked in time to see The Suit standing outside the hardware shop almost opposite Claude’s Antiques. He stood tall with his chin tilted up as he straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair. To any onlooker, he appeared to be examining the pans and brushes on display, but I knew different. He was keeping an eye on the antique shop behind him.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but his existence in our town filled me with dread. Was he the gentleman Claude was having a meeting with? He seemed too fancy for our little town; his suit looked more expensive than everything in both shops combined.

A car horn pipped down the street, and he looked left and right in apparent shock. I made to cross the road but couldn’t find a big enough gap in the traffic. A pedestrian knocked me with their elbow and yelled, “Watch where you’re going, son!” causing people to stare, and I had to force myself to carry on to avoid being in people’s ways.

I paused merely feet away from The Suit. His position had changed; his head was bent to the left, and he was staring intently at me through the window’s reflection. I bowed my head and attempted to cross again.

Before stepping into the road, something made me take a final glance at The Suit’s mirror image. His upper lip curled into a malicious grin, forcing another shiver down my spine, then he swivelled round and marched down the street in the opposite direction.

If it wouldn’t have made me late, I’d have followed him. His presence unnerved me. I’d seen him twice now and been unable to follow him on both occasions. I was desperate to find out who he was. However, despite my curiosity, I hoped he wouldn’t be around for long.

I continued to the shop and opened the door. The ever-present aroma hit me before the bell rang. I loved the smell in Claude’s Antiques. Mr Phillips smoked a pipe, and the scent of it mixed in with the polish I used to clean everything.

As the bell above the door chimed, Mr Phillips jumped from his ledger, then focused his eyes back on the numbers on the page when he saw it was me. I paused at the threshold in horror. The counter was in a state of disarray; he had two phone books open, plus the yellow pages. His Rolodex cardholder was out (which held the details of customers and other antique dealers), and at least twenty of the cards were scattered across the worktop. I’d never seen things so disorganised.

I wondered why he had jumped too. I’d never seen him do that before. Was he frightened of something? I didn’t think anything could scare Mr Phillips.

‘Afternoon, John-Michael,’ he said, not looking up.

‘Hello, Mr Phillips,’ I said. ‘Would you… like any help looking for something?’

‘No, thank you. I think I’ve got it covered,’ he said.

I scratched my head as I searched for something else to say. ‘Can I help you tidy up, then?’

‘No, I’m good.’

‘Oh okay. Umm… so, the meeting… How did it go?’

He set down his pencil but still didn’t