Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1

BOOK: Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1
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Slur

The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1

 

 

 

By Heather Burnside

 

Published
by D M Publishing August 2014

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©
Heather Burnside 2014.

Heather
Burnside reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All
rights reserved. No part of this work may be published, copied, transmitted or
reproduced by any means whatsoever, i.e. electronic, photocopying or recording,
without the written permission of the author.

Any
person who carries out any unauthorised act in relation to the publication,
copying, transmission or reproduction of this work may be liable to criminal
prosecution and civil claims for damages.

--------------------------------

Cover
design by Chris Howard:
[email protected]
.

--------------------------------

Introduction

Slur is set in 1980s Manchester and the characters live
in a deprived area of the city. The language therefore reflects how the
characters would have spoken at that time and I have taken the decision to
include slang and bad language as I wanted to give an accurate portrayal. Please
accept my apologies if anyone is offended by the bad language used but I feel
that it gives the novel a more authentic feel.

Although
many of the slang words are still in use today throughout the UK and in other
English speaking countries, some of them are unique to the North West of the
UK. Additionally, some words may only be familiar to the older generation. I
have therefore included a Glossary in the back of the book to enhance your
reading experience.

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Chapter 1

Saturday 21
st
June 1986

It was Saturday morning and Julie lay in bed dreaming of
last night; she could feel the throbbing beat of the disco music. As she came
to the throbbing intensified and she realised that this was no longer a dream.
It was a loud hammering on the front door. The after effects of too much
alcohol meant that the noise multiplied tenfold inside her head.

She
staggered out of bed and reached for her dressing gown, but somebody had beaten
her to the door. The hammering was followed by the sound of raised voices that
Julie didn’t recognise, and she dashed to the landing to see what the commotion
was about.

As she
peered down the stairs her father glanced towards her bearing a puzzled but
grave expression. There were two strangers in the hallway; a plain, manly-looking
woman of about 30, and a tall middle-aged man with rugged features. Julie’s
mother stared up the stairs, her face a deathly pallor, her voice shaking, as
she uttered, ‘They’re police. They want you love.’

Julie panicked
and began to walk downstairs while asking, ‘What are you talking about Mam?
What would the police want with me?’

She saw the
policeman nod in her direction as he addressed her father, ‘is this her?’

‘Yes,’ Bill
muttered, and hung his head in shame.

The policeman
then focused his full attention on Julie as he spoke the words that would
remain etched on her brain for the rest of her life:

‘Julie
Quinley, I am Detective Inspector Bowden, this is Detective Sergeant Drummond.
I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Amanda Morris. You do not have
to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be given in
evidence.’        

Julie
stared at the police officer in disbelief and confusion as she tried to take it
all in. She wanted to ask – What? Why? When? but the shock of this statement rendered
her speechless and she couldn’t force the words from her mouth.

Inspector
Bowden, heedless of Julie’s emotional state, was keen to get down to business
straightaway. ‘Sergeant Drummond – accompany her to her bedroom while she gets
dressed and watch her very closely.’

He then
turned to Julie’s parents. ‘As soon as your daughter is dressed she will be
taken to the station for questioning while we conduct a thorough search of the
house.’

‘What do
you mean, search? What are you searching for?’ asked Bill.

‘Drugs Mr
Quinley,’ the inspector stated.

On hearing
the word ‘drugs’ Bill was unable to contain himself any longer and Julie
watched, helpless, as he metamorphosed into a frenzied maniac.

‘Drugs? What
the bloody hell are you talking about, drugs? My family’s never had anything to
do with drugs, never!’ he fumed.

He shocked
Julie by grabbing her shoulder and shaking her violently as he vented his
anger. ‘What the bloody hell’s been going on Julie? What’s all this about drugs
and …and …people dying. Just what the hell have you been up to?’

Inspector
Bowden took control of the situation. ‘Mr Quinley, can you please let go of
your daughter and let Sergeant Drummond accompany her while she gets dressed?’

Bill mechanically
released Julie and stared at the police officer in horror. This was a side of Bill
that Julie, at twenty years of age, had never witnessed. Although he had often complained
about her lifestyle, she usually shrugged it off, content in the knowledge that
he was a kind and caring father who thought the world of her. Seeing him like
this, though, she submitted to tears as she struggled to reply. ‘I’m sorry Dad,
but I really don’t know! I’ve never done drugs in my life!’

Then she
began to sob in desperation, ‘Drugs? I don’t know anything about drugs …Amanda’s
dead …Oh Mam, tell him please?’

Julie’s
mother, Betty, turned to address her husband, ‘Leave her alone Bill. Can’t you
see she’s in a state? You’re only making matters worse!’

Inspector
Bowden continued, officiously. ‘Now, if you will permit me to explain to all
concerned - Amanda Morris died of severe intoxication and a possible drugs
overdose in the early hours of this morning. As she was in the company of Julie
Quinley and one other until approximately twelve thirty this morning, and
returned home with them in an extremely drunken state, I have no alternative
but to place Julie Quinley under arrest and take her down to the station for
questioning. Now, if you will permit me to continue in my duties Mr Quinley,
nothing further need be said at this point.’

Julie’s
father retreated into the living room, mumbling to himself in despair. ‘I can’t
take no more of this, I really can’t!’

Led by
Sergeant Drummond, Julie mounted the stairs dejectedly. From the corner of her
eye she could see her mother standing motionless in the hallway until Inspector
Bowden disturbed her. ‘Mrs Quinley, could you help me to open the door please?’

When
Julie’s mother had released the awkward door latch, he stepped forward,
shouting, ‘in here men, start in that room there, then work your way through to
the kitchen.’

Julie’s
senses were on full alert, the adrenaline coursing around her body, as the
police officers charged into the house with her father issuing a barrage of complaints
at them. She was aware of her mother’s distress emanating from the dismal figure
at the foot of the stairs. Apart from that, she could feel her own fear and
helplessness, then shame and anger as, turning back, she noticed a group of
nosy neighbours shouting and jeering at her mother. When one of them had the
audacity to enquire, ‘Everything all right Betty love?’ her mother shut the front
door in response.

Once inside
the upstairs bedroom, Julie could sense Detective Sergeant Drummond
scrutinising her as she put her clothes on. They didn’t speak but Julie tried
to dress as covertly as possible while the police officer’s eyes roamed up and
down her body. She could feel her hands shaking and her heart beating, and could
hear people talking downstairs. One of the voices was her father’s and he
sounded angry.

Julie
headed towards the bathroom to wash her face, which still contained traces of
make-up from the night before, but she was informed that there was no time to
waste and they wanted her down at the station for questioning as soon as
possible. ‘What about my hair?’ Julie asked.

‘If you’re
so concerned about it, you can take a brush and do it in the car.’

Julie grabbed
her hairbrush and placed it inside her handbag, which she threw over her
shoulder.

‘I’ll take
that if you don’t mind!’ said the sergeant, indicating Julie’s handbag. ‘It’ll
have to be searched.’

Julie,
aware of the sergeant’s hostile manner, replied, ‘That’s all right, I’ve got
nothing to hide!’

She passed her
handbag to Sergeant Drummond, then cringed with embarrassment as Sergeant
Drummond rummaged through it and withdrew a packet of Durex and a small, empty
bottle of vodka, which she proceeded to scrutinise. Once Sergeant Drummond had
finished her thorough search, she tossed the bag back to Julie.

After
several minutes Julie was ready to leave her bedroom without having showered,
brushed her hair or even cleaned her teeth.

They began
to descend the stairs.

Inspector
Bowden materialized in the hallway and instructed Sergeant Drummond to lead
Julie out to a waiting police car. He then ordered his men to check the
upstairs of the house. As Sergeant Drummond was propelling Julie through the
front door, Betty took hold of Julie’s arm and wept, ‘I hope you’ll be all right
love.’

The look of
anguish on Betty’s face brought renewed tears to Julie’s eyes, but she was too
distressed to utter any words of reassurance to her mother. Her father, who had
now calmed down a little, said, ‘don’t worry love, they can’t charge you with
anything you haven’t done,’ and he put his arm around Betty’s shoulder in a
comforting gesture. Julie knew that this was Bill’s way of apologising for his
earlier accusations.

When Julie
stepped outside the front door she was horrified at the sight that met her. The
crowd that had gathered on the opposite side of the street had increased to
such an extent that people were spilling over into the road. As Julie stepped onto
the pavement with Sergeant Drummond gripping her arm, the excited mutterings of
the crowd subsided and there was a series of nudges and whispers.

Julie was
now the focus of everybody’s attention and she became painfully aware of her
unkempt appearance, her untidy hair and unwashed face with mascara now streaked
across her cheeks because of crying. The few steps from her house to the police
car seemed to last longer than any other steps she had taken in her life.
Although she knew she was innocent, she felt embarrassed in front of the crowd
and ashamed that she had brought this on her parents.

She knew
that they would be subjected to malicious gossip for weeks to come. For anybody
who had ever held a grudge, or felt envious of the Quinleys, it was now payback
time.

The sight
of the over inquisitive mob soon refuelled Bill’s anger and Julie heard him,
first arguing with the police officers, and then shouting abuse at the
intrusive audience. ‘Have you nothing else better to do? Get back in your houses
and mind your own bleedin’ business! Our Julie’s innocent and she’s better than
the bleedin’ lot of you put together. Now go on, piss off!’

His shouts were
interspersed by Betty’s uncontrolled sobbing.

Not one of
the crowd flinched. Julie had no doubt that her father’s spectacle had added to
their entertainment. It occurred to her that she had never before seen her
father so out of control, never seen her mother so upset, and her neighbours had
never before seen Julie looking anything less than immaculate. For her it
marked the beginning of a prolonged descent.

Suddenly,
Julie caught sight of her younger sister, Clare, heading towards her. She could
hear her astonished voice repeating to her friends, ‘It’s our Julie!’ As she
became nearer, she shouted, ‘Julie, what’s happened, where are they taking
you?’

A policeman
rushed in front of Clare, preventing her from making any contact with her
sister, and Julie was bundled into the police car. As she repositioned herself
on the rear seat, Julie could hear her younger sister’s frantic screams and,
while the officers tried to restrain Clare, she shouted, ‘Get off me, leave me
alone, that’s my sister, you can’t take my sister!’ It was all too much for an
eight year old to take in.

The police
car began to drive away. Julie heard her father shouting at the crowd again. ‘I
hope you’ve enjoyed your morning’s entertainment. Now bugger off home the lot
of you!’

She turned
to see her mother trying to comfort Clare as the Quinley family stepped back
inside their defiled home.

Inside the police
car Julie tried to put aside her feelings of sorrow and despair in an attempt
to pull herself together. She needed to remain calm in order to tackle this
situation. But despite knowing she was innocent, she felt degraded and
helpless.

She eased open
her handbag, aware of Sergeant Drummond’s observation. Julie took out a mirror
and held it in front of her face. Her reflection echoed the way she was feeling
about herself. She removed a tissue and used her own saliva to dampen it so
that she could wipe away the remains of stale make-up. Having achieved that,
she set about brushing her hair.

Sergeant
Drummond turned towards the officer driving the police car and quipped, ‘Look
at that, her friend’s just snuffed it after a night out with her, and all she
can think about is what she looks like!’

Julie tried
to ignore the caustic comment. She needed to remain as composed as possible
under the circumstances. For Julie, looking good meant feeling good, and she
knew that it would help to give her the strength to get through this ordeal. In
complete defiance of Sergeant Drummond’s remark, Julie continued to work on her
appearance, adding a little blusher and lip-gloss.

She then attempted
to think about her situation logically. “
Yes, they had spiked Amanda’s drink
with shorts. There was no point in denying that. Chances were the police would
find out anyway and that would only make matters worse. But what about the
drugs?

She thought
about whether there had been any time when somebody could have given drugs to
Amanda, but decided that it was impossible to account for everybody’s
whereabouts throughout the entire evening. She had been too drunk herself for
one thing.

As thoughts
of Amanda flashed through her mind, she could feel her eyes well up with tears
again, but she fought to maintain control. “
I mustn’t let them get the
better of me
,” she kept repeating to herself. Then she remembered the inspector’s
words when he had said, ‘
possible
drugs overdose.’ “
So, there’s a
chance that no drugs were involved anyway
,” she thought, on a positive note.
Then her spirit was further dampened by the realisation that, if there were no
drugs found there was no possibility that anybody else was involved. That could
mean only one thing; that Amanda’s death was purely down to her and Rita having
spiked Amanda’s drinks with various shorts throughout the evening.

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