One Bad Turn (33 page)

‘So it would have made a difference, would it?’

Coupland looked away. ‘Just answer me this. Why kill their daughters?’

‘Because of the sister I never had. The one that died because of the stress Mum was under during the trial. The men that caused this went on to have happy families yet my dad was left with nothing. Then you came along and robbed me of ever getting to know him.’

The final nail in the coffin.

Coupland tried a different tack. ‘I thought you loved Amy.’

The wind whipped around them. ‘I do. At first she was a way to get to you,’ Vinny’s voice faltered, ‘I didn’t expect to fall for her.’

The sound of sirens echoed up from the street below. The wailing ended abruptly, followed by the sound of car doors slamming and boots pounding on tarmac. Amy cried out in terror when Vinny leaned forward to look over the edge, pulling her forward with him. Every action was perilous; one wrong move could be fatal. Coupland prayed Ashcroft had the sense to tell the assembling tactical support team to stand down. If Vinny fell backward when the bullet hit him he’d be taking Amy with him. Vinny reached out to hold onto the low wall.

‘So why hurt her?’ Coupland demanded, ‘You’ll be losing someone else that you love.’ A pause. Planes flew overhead, streaking the sky with their jet stream. And then it dawned on him.

Vinny was going to kill them both.

‘Don’t.’ Coupland said, taking a step nearer. ‘Don’t hurt her.’

‘What choice do I have? I don’t want to live out the rest of my life in jail.’

All the while he was talking he was moving closer to the edge.

‘Dad, I’m so sorry…’ Amy whimpered.

‘I’m sorry too.’ Coupland shouted into the wind.

For what he was about to do.

Coupland lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Amy, clinging onto her with nothing but the metal barrier giving him purchase, stopping him from hurtling to the concrete floor below any second now. Vinny pulled Amy towards him but her arms were locked with Coupland’s, resulting in a bizarre tug of love. Coupland pulled her one way. Vinny pulled her the other. In a rage Vinny pulled too hard, stumbling backwards he lost his footing before falling onto the pavement below. He didn’t scream long for someone who knew what a mess he’d make when he landed.

‘Don’t let go of me, Dad!’ Amy cried.

‘Never,’ he whispered into the air between them, hanging on for grim death until Ashcroft came running to his aid and helped to lift her over the barrier.

Coupland held Amy’s shaking body close as they huddled together in the lift, murmuring that everything would be fine. It was when he took hold of her hand as they stepped out onto the ground floor that he felt it. The crushing sensation that felt like an elephant had settled on his chest. He turned to Amy in surprise, saw her mouth form an ‘O’ shape as he fell to his knees, heard Ashcroft yell ‘We need some help here…’ to the waiting paramedics.

Epilogue

‘Is someone going to answer the door or what, then?’ Lynn called out from the kitchen where she’d set about making sandwiches, spreading butter onto bread before scraping it off again. Ashcroft pushed himself up from his chair in the living room. ‘Sit back down love, you’re a guest,’ Lynn ordered, looking pointedly at Amy who had assumed the position of lady of the manor, lying on the settee, picking at the chocolates Ashcroft had brought. ‘The doctor told me to rest,’ Amy reminded her, ‘after all that I’ve been through.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Ashcroft said, making his way to the front door where a woman stood waiting, one hand holding onto a mischievous looking boy and the other gripping onto a child’s car seat containing a sleeping infant. ‘You must be Alex,’ Ashcroft stepped to one side to let the boy run in, the small car he clutched was driven along each wall as he made car chase noises. Alex hurried in after him. ‘He’s had a sugar rush and it’ll be this one’s feeding time soon, with any luck this visit’ll knacker them both out. Bliss! An hour in front of the telly eating my body weight in chocolate.’

Just then Coupland stepped out of the downstairs toilet carrying a newspaper. ‘I’d give it five minutes, if I were you,’ he warned them before wrapping his arms around Alex. ‘I take it you’ve met Ashcroft then,’ he checked when he finally let her go. ‘We’ve not been formally introduced as such,’ Alex smiled at the DC, ‘but even with my baby brain I figured you’re the guy trying to squeeze into my size five shoes.’

‘Come on through, Alex,’ Lynn called, ‘I’m making up a spot of lunch; you’ll join us, won’t you?’

‘Too right, it’s a rare day that I get to feed myself anything that doesn’t come out of a wrapper, I’ll be glad when Carl gets back from his training course. Anyway, how are you, muffin?’ Alex paused by Amy, placing a hand on her shoulder to give it a squeeze. ‘The doctor says I’ve suffered a huge shock,’ Amy moved her legs out of the way so that Alex could sit beside her. ‘I’m not surprised,’ Alex said, noticing the dark circles and sallow skin. ‘Mind you, the sight of your dad in jogging bottoms is not for the faint hearted.’

She raised an eyebrow at Coupland, ‘You do know that nobody over 40 should wear them, don’t you? There should be some sort of health warning.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ Coupland sighed, ‘they’re comfy.’

Lynn brought a large plate of sandwiches through, placing them on the coffee table along with a stack of smaller plates and paper towels folded into triangles.

‘How are you bearing up?’ Alex asked her quietly.

‘Getting there,’ she smiled, ‘especially now this one’s back home,’ she glanced at Coupland, her eyes crinkling at the corners, ‘You taken your tablets?’

‘Yup,’ he hunkered down to put a ham triangle on a plate for Ben. ‘You’re lucky,’ he whispered, ruffling the boy’s hair, ‘I have to have salad on mine.’

‘Stop moaning,’ Lynn scolded, ‘I’ve put the butter on you like.’ Coupland lifted the lid of a cheese salad triangle and peered at its underbelly. ‘Only just,’ he sniffed. Alex’s face fell serious as she regarded her old partner. ‘So what did the hospital say?’

‘High blood pressure,’ Coupland tutted, ‘they asked whether I’d been under any undue stress recently.’ They both grinned.

‘I thought you’d be on sick leave, when I called at the station and they said you were on a rest day I thought I was hearing things.’

‘I’m not ill, the chest pain was just a wakeup call, the sooner we get back to normal the better,’ Coupland tried to catch Amy’s eye as he said this but she was too busy reading the chocolate assortment menu. He knew the brave face was for his benefit, he’d heard her crying in her room most nights but by morning the shutters came down. She’d refused the counselling offered to her, refused to let anyone mention Vinny in her presence. She was hurting, and there seemed precious little he could do to make it better. ‘And there was me thinking you’d come specially to see me.’

Alex rolled her eyes, ‘It’s taken me two hours to get us out the front door. There’s less planning needed for an armed raid. Once I’ve got us out it makes sense to cram in as many visits in the day as is feasible.’

Lynn peered at Todd asleep in his car seat, ‘Nice having a baby about the place again,’ she clucked, causing Coupland to scowl. ‘Don’t go getting any bloody ideas,’ he warned her, his scowl softening as he looked over at Amy. His heart would surely burst if there was another one to run around after, better to count their blessings.

Amy looked up from the chocolate box and smiled, distracted. She chewed on her lip as she glanced away, too busy worrying about the positive pregnancy test hidden in her underwear drawer to pay much attention to the conversation going on around her.

THE END

About The Author

Born in Salford Emma moved to the Peak District as a child, commuting into Manchester’s financial district as a consultant for HSBC. Spells in Brummie beckoned (Selly Oak then Solihull) after winning a bank scholarship to Birmingham University before working out of bank branches in Castle Bromwich, Coleshill and Shirley.

Emma loved English Literature at school but studied Business and Finance in order to secure a ‘proper’ job. Other jobs have included selling ladies knickers at Grey Mare Lane Market and packing boiler suits in a clothing factory. After moving to Scotland Emma worked for a housing association supporting socially excluded young men into employment before setting up her own training company.

Married with two sons Emma writes from her home in East Lothian which they share with their rescue dog, Star.

Find out more about the author and her other books at:
https://www.emmasalisbury.com

Have you tried the Davy Johnson series? Why not try the first chapter of TRUTH LIES WAITING over the page…

Chapter 1

It’s funny how the do-gooding public think prison is the answer, like a magic wand that wipes your criminal scorecard clean. Only it isn’t like that, the problems you leave behind are still waiting for you when you step back out into the daylight, except now they’re much bigger, and this time you don’t have as many choices. I was one of the lucky ones, moved back into my family home and into a job that paid decent money. I should send a shout out to my probation officer; she came up trumps, getting me in at Swanson’s rather than pretend work on a poxy job creation scheme. OK, packing cardboard boxes is boring as Hell, but you can have a laugh with the guys on the shop floor and turn the radio up when you run out of things to say.

Even so, only one day in the job and already things started going pear-shaped. I was heading towards the bus-stop at the end of my shift when a small boy riding a BMX bike mounted the pavement, circling round me a couple of times like a playground bully eyeing his victim. Close up he was older than I’d first thought, maybe thirteen or so, with shaved blond hair and a forehead that was way too wide for the rest of his face. His eyes were sunken and further apart than was right and a mouth that hung open as though his lips were too heavy for his jaw.

‘You Davy?’ it came out as a statement rather than a question, but I nodded anyway.

‘Gotta message f’ya.’ The kid had a nasal whine, the kind that’d get on your nerves if you had to listen to it all the time. I wasn’t worried by the sight of him though; a boy on a bike makes a bee-line for you and says they’ve got a message; it’s not that big a deal round here. As far as I know, Hallmark and Interflora don’t stock ‘
Glad you’re out of chokey
’ gifts and where I’m from your first stretch inside is a rite of passage. News of my release is bound to have got around.

‘Mickey’s givin’ ye till the end o’ the week to make your first payment.’

I nodded in agreement, his terms seemed reasonable; he was hardly going to write off my loan because of my spell inside.

‘Said to tell ye he’s adjusted the figures.’

Ah
. Bike Boy’s voice was beginning to grate but he had my full attention. ‘Said something

‘bout the credit crunch an’ compound interest, or was it compound fractures?’ the boy stated maliciously,‘Either way he said I wasn’t tae worry if I forgot the gist, so long as I told ye how much ye payment has gone up tae.’

I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this. Bike Boy paused for effect, as though I was an X Factor contestant about to learn my fate: whether I was to stay in the competition or return to the life I’d been badmouthing every week.

‘Two hundred quid.’ He said firmly.

I was confused. That was the amount of my original loan. I’d been due to pay it off fifty pounds a week until Mickey got bored but now he seemed to be giving me the chance to pay off the debt in full. It’d be a stretch, after tax I’ll be clearing two fifty a week but it’d be worth it.

Bike Boy smiled, not altogether unkindly but there was a glimmer of pleasure there, even so.

‘Two hundred a week until further notice.’ He clarified matter of factly.

‘Ye havin’ a laugh!’ I began to object but the kid was already peddling away, job done. I know my spell inside meant Mickey’d had to wait for his money but this was some penalty. After bus fares and board I’d be working for nothing.

And so this morning I’m trying to manage my expectations. To start my day as I mean to go on. Good things don’t happen to Davy Johnson, never have done, never will. I’m your original walking talking magnet for bucket loads of shit but today I’m going to look on the bright side; the sun is shining, I have a pack of smokes in my pocket and I have a job. I take a cigarette from the pack and light it, drawing down hard, enjoying the sensation of the nicotine inflating my lungs. Is it so wrong to be drawn to something that really isn’t good for you?

The sun’s rays beam down steadily and I roll my overalls to my waist before lying back on the wooden bench, savouring each lungful of smoke. My upper body tingles; already the skin on my chest is beginning to turn pink. Be good to get some colour, get rid of the grey pallor that is the trademark of a stretch inside. I close my eyes, lifting my cigarette for a final drag before returning to the pallet of cartons waiting for me. All I need to top the day off is a nice cold beer and I promise myself one at the end of the shift with a couple of guys from the shop floor if they’re up for it.

A cold chill across my stomach makes my eye lids snap open. There, in my eye line, blocking out the sun like a spiteful raincloud stands a familiar but unfriendly face. Police Constable MacIntyre arrested me six months ago and here he is larger than life staring down at me as though I’m a giant turd. I look past MacIntyre to the squad car parked by the factory gates and the officer in the passenger seat picking his nose while scrolling through messages on a mobile. I don’t think they’re supposed to use their phones on duty but I know better than to air unasked for views. Instead, I push myself to a sitting position, pulling my overalls up over my shoulders whilst checking across the factory yard to see if my visitors can be seen from the main building. Candy Staton, the boss’s PA has her back to the canteen window while she busies herself getting drinks for the managers. Petite with long shiny hair tied back in a ponytail she is the prettiest girl I’ve set eyes on in a long while. She smiled at me on my first day here even though she must have seen my personnel file. I wonder what she’ll make of the new guy not yet a week in and bringing police to the door.