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Authors: Anna Jacobs

BOOK: Peppercorn Street
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That led them into a lively discussion about the pros and cons of early planting, greenhouses and cloches.

‘You remind me of my granddad,’ she said wistfully as the discussion eventually flagged. ‘He loved his gardening and he made me love it too. I do miss having a garden. Even my dad used to let me grow vegetables for them.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Well, I’d better go now. I’ve got to get us both ready for tomorrow. It’ll be Millie’s first day in the crèche.’

‘I wish you well at college – both of you.’

‘Thank you, Mr Shackleton.’ She hesitated. ‘Is it all right if I come and see you again? I’d enjoy watching your plants grow.’

‘I’d love to see you. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.’

He watched her go, thinking what a brave lass she was, taking on the burden of rearing a child at such a young age. It was youngsters like her who gave you hope for the future – as well as brightening your day.

Nothing seemed to go well that day: customers were grumpy, library books fell apart and the officials at the council wanted yet more forms filling in. They were probably responsible for whole forests being destroyed, with their repetitive forms.

Nicole was exhausted by the time she finished a late shift at eight o’clock in the evening. She’d walked to work today because it was fine and sunny, leaving her car in the garage, but as she left the library, she wished she’d driven here. It was dark and even though there were people around, she felt uneasy walking through the streets on her own.  

Thanks, William!
she thought.
This is down to you. I never used to be afraid after dark
.

As she turned into Peppercorn Street, she thought she could hear the echo of footsteps behind her. She stopped, turning quickly, but could see no one except a group of
youngsters laughing and shoving one another as they moved in the other direction.

When she set off again, she tried to walk more quietly, listening carefully for footsteps. But it was how she felt that made her suspect someone was following her, rather than what she heard. It was as if she could sense a hostile presence behind her. She’d read a book once that said you should trust your instincts and pay heed to such feelings.

She was still a hundred yards from her block of flats and the street ahead was much darker than the part near the shopping area. Worse, there was no one else around.

Should she run the rest of the way? No, that showed fear. She almost turned to go back to the high street, but if she did that she’d be heading towards whoever was following her.

It could only be William. This was a small town, with a low crime rate.

As she reached Kieran’s building, she almost sobbed with the sheer relief of finding a solution. He’d help her, she knew. Turning abruptly, she hurried across the car park to the front door, ringing the bell. Someone laughed in the darkness behind her and she rang the bell again before Kieran had had time to answer, made even more desperate to get inside by that laugh.

The intercom crackled. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s me. Nicole. I think I’m being followed.’

There was a loud click. ‘Come in. I’ve slipped the catch on the door.’

As she pushed it open, something hit her on the back of the head and pain exploded in her skull. At the same time she heard a yell of triumph. She recognised that yell.
Definitely William! The force of the missile made her stumble forward, but she managed to yank the door shut behind her even as she was falling.

Something hit the glass panel in the door and shattered it, sending shards of broken glass scattering all over her as she lay on the wooden floor. The second missile landed beside her, a half-brick with jagged edges. She waited, feeling too dizzy to get up, but nothing else followed.

‘Don’t move!’

She looked up to see Kieran standing at the edge of the glass-littered area. He looked blurred, almost like a double image.

Janey called from the landing. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’ll look after her,’ Kieran called back. ‘You go back inside and lock your door.’

He turned back to Nicole. ‘We don’t want you cutting yourself. Wait there. I’ll get some newspaper for you to walk on.’ He kept glancing outside. ‘I’ve put the outside lights on, but I can’t see anyone, so I think whoever attacked you has gone. Stay where you are unless he comes back. I’m going to call the police.’

She didn’t protest at that because she still didn’t feel up to moving. The hall kept blurring around her. No more bricks came through the glass as she lay there, waiting for Kieran to return.

It was hard to think clearly. Was her son really doing this to her? Was he attacking other people as well? If so, had he gone mad?

Or perhaps she had? Perhaps she was imagining she’d heard his voice?

No. He had a nasty, testosterone-filled way of yelling,
like triumphant footballers sometimes did. You couldn’t mistake that yell. And like the sportsmen, he’d had an ugly mask of triumph on his face whenever he yelled like that and pumped his fists in the air.

Kieran’s voice made her jump because she hadn’t heard him return. ‘Are you all right to get up now, Nicole? Let’s get you inside my flat.’

He helped her across the thick layer of newspapers that formed a path across the hall. Beneath their feet glass crunched and crackled, and if it hadn’t been for him holding her she’d have staggered all over the place.

When they went inside his flat, he took her into the kitchen area. ‘We don’t look out on to the street here and I’ve pulled the blinds down, so I think we’ll be safe.’

Even as he spoke there was the sound of more glass smashing from the hall, then silence fell for a moment, to be broken by the sound of voices from the street and footsteps going across the floor above them.

‘I was wrong,’ Kieran said flatly. ‘He was still out there, watching us. I’d better tell Janey and the other tenants to stay away from their windows.’ He slipped out of the flat again.

Without the comfort of his arm round her shoulders, Nicole began shaking and when she felt the back of her head, it hurt and her hand came away covered in blood. The room still looked blurred.

The door of the flat clicked shut quietly as Kieran returned. ‘It’s only me.’

She felt him bend over her and a gentle touch on her head.

‘That looks nasty. It was a half-brick, I think. There are three on the hall floor now, one with blood on it. It must
have been thrown really hard and from quite close to have made a cut like that.’

‘William was a good bowler, on the school team until he got into a fight.’

‘William? Your son? Surely he didn’t do this?’

‘Yes. I recognised his voice.’

Kieran grasped her hand, seeming to understand that she was more upset by it being her son than by the injury itself. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘So very sorry.’

She started to nod, but pain jabbed through her so she said, ‘Thanks.’

‘Look, I think we’re going to have to take you to the hospital to get that cut stitched.’

As she looked at him, she felt warmth on her cheeks. It was a moment or two before she realised it was tears.

‘Oh, my dear! Don’t cry.’

Once again his arms went round her and she leaned against him, sobbing.

‘Do you know why he attacked you?’

‘Because he’s out of control. Because I won’t do what he says and give him money. He’s been threatening to make me sorry for leaving them and when he came into the library he looked so wild-eyed and aggressive, I hardly recognised him.’

Flashing lights heralded the arrival of a police car and Kieran went to let the officers in and explain what had happened.

When they came into the flat, one checked her head and said at once, ‘Let’s get you to hospital before we do anything else. That’s a bad cut and I think you’ve got concussion.’

She couldn’t seem to think straight, so let them do what they wanted, comforted by Kieran’s arm round her shoulder.

‘We’ll call for an ambulance. Is there someone who can come and pick you up after you’ve been attended to, Mrs Gainsford?’ one officer asked.

 

Kieran watched her struggling to think clearly. ‘I’ll come and pick you up, Nicole. I’ll get things secured here first, then drive over to the hospital for you.’

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper and her face was chalk white, but her hand clung to his.

He turned to the officers. ‘I have some pieces of particle board in the garage which were used when the place was being remodelled. If you can help me carry them into the house, they should fit the hall windows and front door exactly. I kept them in case one of the windows got broken. Good thing, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t you want to call someone in to do the job for you, sir? You’re hurt yourself, limping. Do you need checking out as well?’

‘No. It’s an old injury. I want to make the building safe as quickly as I can, then go to the hospital to be with Nicole.’

The ambulance arrived ten minutes later and he watched bleakly as it drove her away. The paramedics had promised to ensure she was kept safe in case whoever it was pursued her.

‘Let’s get your wood panels, sir,’ one of the two officers said quietly. ‘It’s not strictly speaking our duty, but it’ll mean we can get away more quickly. We don’t want to leave this place open to further attacks.’

As they worked Kieran explained in more detail what had happened and who Nicole thought had done it. He promised to go into the police station the next day to make a statement and bring Nicole, if she was up to it.

‘Do
you
think it’s her son? Did you hear anything?’

‘I did hear a yell – she’s right about that – but I’ve never met her son, so I wouldn’t recognise him. She was quite sure it was him.’

‘She had her tyres slashed too. We took the son into the station, but he denied doing it and we had no proof. Once we’ve finished here, we’ll go and find out where he was tonight.’

Only after the police had left did Kieran wonder how he was going to get to the hospital. He hesitated. Should he call a taxi or … No, he’d drive. He could do it. About time, too.

He went to find the car keys. It wasn’t all that far to drive and the physio had told him he could try driving when he felt ready. And if it hurt, well, he was used to pain by now.

He had to make sure Nicole was all right and see that she got back safely.

 

The two officers pulled up at the Gainsfords’ house. ‘Wonder what the husband thinks of her fancy man?’ one said.

‘If he even knows. He seemed a bit dopey when we came to ask him about his son. Do you think he’s using?’

‘I don’t know. We’ll keep our eyes open.’

Sam stared at them even more dopily tonight as they explained why they were there.

‘Is your son William here?’ one of them repeated.

A lad came into the room to join them. ‘He’s not been home tonight.’

‘And you are?’

Sam stirred. ‘This is my younger son, Paul.’

‘Did you say Mum’s been injured?’

‘I’m afraid so. Someone threw a brick at her and it not only stunned her but a sharp edge made a bad cut on the back of her head. It probably needed stitching, so we called an ambulance.’ He saw Mr Gainsford blink and lean forward at that, suddenly looking more alert.

‘You say Nicole is in hospital? I must go to her.’

‘Let’s talk about your son William, first. Could he have done it?’

‘I can’t believe he’d hurt his own mother.’

‘He would, Dad. He’s been threatening all sorts of things. I told her to be careful.’

‘When was the last time
you
saw William, Mr Gainsford?’ the officer persisted.

‘This morning, before I left for work. He was complaining there was no milk, so I gave him a fiver to get some.’

‘He didn’t get any, though,’ Paul said. ‘I had to use my bus money to buy a loaf and some milk for tea.’

Sam jerked to his feet and stood there for a moment before saying, ‘I’ve got to go to the hospital and fetch Nicole back here. She’ll need looking after.’

‘Doesn’t William live here? Will she be safe?’

He stared at the officer in horror. ‘I’ll – make sure she is, chuck him out if necessary.’

‘I don’t think she’ll come back, Dad. Not with William around.’

‘She’ll have to. She’ll be in no state to look after herself.’

 

Kieran unlocked the new car, which he’d never driven before. It was quite small, one of the more upright models, to cope with his injuries. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous, because he’d been driving for years until the accident, and that had definitely been somebody else’s fault, not his. Still, this would be the first time he’d driven in a year and nerves were natural.

He started the car, listening to it purr like a kitten because his brother took it out for a drive every week or two and made sure it was running smoothly. Hagen had been nagging him to try it out on a short drive.

After sitting staring at Nicole’s car for a moment, neatly parked beside his in the garage, he pressed the remote to lift the door and slowly backed out. Given the troubles of the night, he zapped the remote again and waited till the door had finished rolling downwards before he moved off.

Thank heavens the car was an automatic and he could manage with only his right foot on the pedals! Even so, it hurt to drive, especially when he had to brake suddenly.

As he went along, he gained in confidence and nodded approval of himself as he got to the hospital safely. Once there, he was grateful to his brother yet again, this time for making him apply for a disabled sticker. They’d argued about that at the time, and he’d hated the thought of it, but if he hadn’t had the sticker, he’d have had to park a long way away from casualty.

His bad leg and hip were aching ferociously now, so he
had to use his walking stick. He looked down, remembering what his leg had looked like after the accident. The leg and hip had had to be rebuilt and would never function properly again. But at least he still had a leg, could still walk if not run.

When he went into casualty he had to wait in a queue, but someone noticed him leaning on his walking stick and someone else said he looked pale, so a nurse came out to see him.

‘Is it yourself you’re here for?’ she asked, scanning his body as if looking for an injury.

‘No, no. I’m here for Nicole Gainsford, who was brought in by ambulance. She’d been hit on the back of the head by a rock.’

‘Just a minute.’ She went and consulted the computer, beckoning to him to approach the desk. ‘Close friend, is she?’

He suddenly wondered if they’d let a mere friend see her or take her home, so said, ‘I’m her husband.’

‘I’ll take you along to see her, then. Doctor’s checked her and stitched the cut. It was a nasty one. Don’t upset her. She needs to rest for a while before she goes home.’

He found Nicole lying on a high, narrow bed in a cubicle and she shaded her eyes as light shone into it through the open curtains. He closed the curtains quickly.

‘Thank you for coming.’ She frowned. ‘How did you get here?’

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