The voice howls even louder and the dogs grow overexcited and start barking again. Jessica whistles them to silence. By this time she stands among them, looking up into the tree where Billy Simple sits howling fit to burst.
Coming out of the bright early morning sunlight into the dark shade under the tree, Jessica can only just make out Billy’s huge shape clinging for dear life to a branch with both hands, his cheek against another branch as he wails. It is only after her eyes have adjusted that she sees he is covered in dried blood — it’s all over his face and hands and the front of his flannel shirt and all the way down his moleskins.
‘Billy, what happened?’ Jessica screams. ‘Are you hurt? Who hurt you, Billy? Tell me who hurt you!’
Billy stops howling. ‘Hail Mary, Mother of God .. .’ he begins.
‘Billy, Amen, stop that! Tell me what happened!’ Billy tries to smile at her through his tears, a pitiful attempt, his mouth working for words. ‘Jessie my friend, eh?’
‘Yes Billy, I’m your friend. Now you come down and I’ll give you some tea and tucker.’
‘No, no, shoot! You shoot Billy, Jessie. Billy bad boy!’
‘Billy, stop that nonsense. I can’t come up and fetch you, so you come down at once, you hear me, Billy!’ To Jessica’s relief Bi
lly Simple starts to untangle himself from the branches of the tree and after a few moments he lets himself drop to the ground, falling to his knees and then rolling in the dust towards her.
The dogs go for him, thinking he is about to attack Jessica. Billy screams and covers his face with his arms and pulls his knees up into his chest to protect himself from the kelpies.
‘Stay!’ Jessica commands the dogs and lets out a piercing whistle. The dogs draw back. ‘Down!’ The kelpies lie panting, their pink tongues lolling wetly.
Billy slowly uncurls himself and gets to his feet. It is then that Jessica sees the full extent of the blood on him. It seems to be everywhere, as if he’s somehow fallen into a slaughter trough at the abattoir in Hay. His face, neck and arms, as well as his clothing, are dark and stiff with dried blood, yet she can see no cuts or the wetness of a seeping wound anywhere on his body.
‘Jesus, Billy, what have you done to yourself?’ Jessica asks again.
Billy is now standing in front of Jessica with his head bowed, hands clasped below his waist, shaking like a leaf.
‘Billy, it’s me, Jessica. Don’t be afraid, mate. I won’t hurt you. Jessica likes you, Billy, I’m your friend. Remember?’
Billy looks up and then shakes his huge, ugly head several times.
‘No more! Jessie don’t like Billy no more.’ He lowers his head to his chest again and begins to blub, snot bubbles blowing from his flattened nose.
‘Billy, that’s not true. I’m your friend. Jack and me, we’re your best mates. Tell me, Billy, what happened?’ He stops bawling as suddenly a” he’d started and looks up, grinning at Jessica. ‘Hail Mary -’
‘No, Billy, you can say that later. Now tell me why you’re covered in blood. Have you killed a beast?’ It’s now clear to Jessica that, despite the blood, Billy doesn’t seem to be hurt.
‘No! No!’ Billy shakes his head vigorously. ‘I kilt ‘em, Jessie.’ He covers his ears with his hands as though blocking out some sound only he can hear. He rocks, moving his body back and forth. ‘No more, no more,’ he howls.
Jessica reaches out and grabs his damp bloody sleeve. ‘Killed what, Billy? What did you kill?’
Billy stops rocking. ‘Three!’ he shouts. Then again, ‘Three!’ Suddenly he gives an excited little hop, like a child impatient to reveal a secret, then, grinning, holds three fingers proudly up to his face.
‘Three? You killed three? Three what?’ Jessica suddenly feels cold. ‘Three people?’ Billy nods, still grinning.
‘Who, Billy?’ Jessica’s mouth has gone dry, her tongue sticks to its roof. She swallows hard and tries to wet her mouth, running her tongue round her lips. Her heart is beating furiously as she tries to fight down the horror she feels because she knows who Billy’s murdered.
Billy looks slyly down at Jessica, slowly closing his three raised fingers back into his fist. Then, as though he is performing some sort of conjuring trick, he allows a single blood-stained forefinger to shoot up out of his huge hand. ‘A-da!’ he says triumphantly, pronouncing each syllable carefully, much as a small child might do to please a parent with a newly learned name.
Jessica thinks she is going to be sick and she finds it difficult to look into Billy’s bloodshot eyes.
Billy’s second finger shoots up. ‘Ga-wen.’ He pauses and looks at Jessica, as though expecting her to applaud, and then up shoots the third. ‘Win-fred!’ he pronounces proudly. ‘Kilt! Kilt! Kilt!’
‘Oh my God, the Thomases! You’ve murdered them, Billy!’
Billy Simple now senses the distress in Jessica’s voice and looks surprised, then doleful, and begins to whimper and then to sob. Soon great tears run down his blood-smeared cheeks. He crosses himself, ‘Hail Mary, Mother of God,’ he chokes. Then, looking up at Jessica, he smiles through his tears and says, ‘Would you like to see the big cock Jesus gave me?’
CHAPTER FOUR