Excerpt from Hungry Ghosts by Kevin Jared Hosein, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Marlee to Baig, 'I'd appreciate you not saying anything about it. Mr Changoor doesn't know about it yet, and I want to be the one to inform him.'

'Yes, ma'am.' Baig to Robinson now, 'Hear that, Robinson? Don't go runnin your mouth.'

Marlee tipped her chin. 'Help him, Baig.'

Baig, nonchalantly, 'Need help there, pardner?'

'No, sir.' With one final tug, Robinson pulled the dog's body onto land with the vigour of a bluejacket bringing up an anchor. The rigor mortis long set in. Mouth wide open, tongue lolling out the side. The stench unbearable now. Muck water osmosed into rancid flesh. The dog's face had drooped to the point where its features had lost their symmetry. The three pinched their noses.

'You want me to bury him, Mrs Changoor?' asked Robinson.

'Yes, please do that.' Marlee pointed to a spot of earth far from the cherry trees. 'You are a saint, Robinson.'

Robinson hesitated. 'A foot too close to the water. Mind if I go further up?'

'Whatever is best.' The smell, now close to making her eyes water, overpowered everything else. She couldn't look at the dog any more.

'I gon head up, grab a shovel,' said Baig, eager to escape the stench as well.

'A bag too. A big one, you hear?' Robinson said. When Baig went up, Robinson turned to Marlee. 'You want to say something for the hound, Mrs Changoor?'

She squinted. 'Something? Like what?'

'Just some words. A prayer would be appropriate.' He paused, looking at the dog's deformed face. 'Seem only right.'

Marlee, at a loss for words, shook her head.

An awkward silence before he felt compelled to ask, 'Mind if I say something then, ma'am?'

Marlee's eyes fluttered. 'By all means.'

He bowed his head. 'All things bright and beautiful. All creatures great and small. All things wise and wonderful. Jesus, thank you for them all. Rest in peace.'

'Rest in peace,' repeated Marlee.

Baig returned with the shovel and bag and helped Robinson slip the dog in. As Robinson began digging, Marlee asked, 'Mind if I leave? The smell, I can't ...'

'I'll take care of it, ma'am.'

Halfway up the steps, she noticed Baig following her. She turned around. 'Stay down there with him in case he needs help.'

Baig twisted his mouth. 'Right.'

Back at the field, Hans was done taking down the tarp. He rolled a spare tyre over it to keep it in place. Wiped his hands on his trousers as he walked up to Marlee. 'Baig was tellin me about the dog.'

Marlee rubbed her forehead. 'I hope that idiot doesn't go tattling.' Then with clasped hands, 'Would you mind keeping this to yourself, Hans? At least until I have the chance to tell Mr Changoor about it. You know he's been under a lot of stress lately, and how much he treasures those dogs.'

Hans nodded. 'I understand, Mrs Changoor.' Had to keep his eyes from straying to the swell of flesh exposed at her collar. 'And what bout you? Any stress? I mean, any stress aside from this mornin. The way Baig was talking, he make it sound like a bad dream. Aint nothin a lady should lay her eyes on.'

'It's only you who asks me these things, Hans.' She smiled, bit her lower lip and gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. 'Even bad dreams come to an end.'

With a twinkle in his eye, 'Good dreams too.'

'Unfortunately.' She stood closer to him. He was tall enough for his collar to cradle her chin. 'I expect it to cast a shadow on the rest of my day, to tell you the truth. I may go inside to take a nap.'

Hans gazing at the sky. 'Don't worry bout them dogs. We gon see bout the other two.'

'You're a godsend.' Her eyes lingering on the sweat beading at his collar.

'Should we keep a lookout for Mr Changoor?'

She nodded several times. 'Yes, yes. Please do. He wasn't clear on whether he was returning by midday or this evening.'

'That there is a busy man.'

'Quite,' she said, feigning a smile.

* * *

Night fell. The crescent moon like a shimmering sickle above the land. Dalton still hadn't returned. Marlee reflected on his last conversation with the painting – what did he mean when he said that the devil had returned? Who was the devil? An underworld rival? An old nemesis? The Ghost of Christmas Past? She paced the kitchen, feeling gradually more and more weightless. Turned to the clock. A whole day had passed since Dalton's departure and still no word. The questions in a frenetic dance in her head.

Excerpted from Hungry Ghosts by Kevin Jared Hosein. Copyright © 2023 by Kevin Jared Hosein. Excerpted by permission of Ecco. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.