Time To Play by KA Richardson (free children's ebooks online .txt) 📕

she took a sip of the water then curled herself into a tight ball to preserve what warmth she had. Slowly, she dropped off into an uneasy sleep, her fingers tapping on her leg with the ticking of the clock.

Connor’s Parents’ House, Sunderland – 11 November

Connor screeched to a halt outside his parents’ house and ran inside. He’d had an absolute nightmare of a day. He’d ended up being nominated lead diver with Marlo and had spent the better part of three hours in the freezing cold North Sea, alternating being in the water with a little time on the boat to warm up. God damn training exercises. Just once he’d like to have a day where training consisted of sitting inside, with a cup of coffee and his feet up.

He sighed as he reached the front door, his body shivering slightly. Even now, a couple of hours since they’d gone back inside the nick, he was bitterly cold. He had been looking forward to a nice, hot bath and a couple of beers, and had just got in his car when his phone had rung.

His mother screaming down the phone had chilled him more than the temperature of the sea water could, and he’d broken every speed limit getting to the house.

Hearing his mum scream again from inside, he pushed the door open and practically ran inside.

Racing into the living room, he found his dad towering over his mum, his fist raised. His mum already blood streaming from her nose and a bruise forming on her cheek. She had an arm raised, trying to protect herself as her husband brought his fist towards her again.

‘Dad!’ screamed Connor, pushing himself between his parents. ‘Stop it!’ He felt his face burn as the blow meant for his mum glanced off the side of his chin.

Immediately his dad looked distraught and devastated as the red haze lifted and he realised what he’d done. He took in the pain-filled incomprehension on his wife’s bruised face, and he started to sob, falling to his knees and putting his hands over his face. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What have I done?’

Connor was torn.

What the hell was he supposed to do? His dad loved his mum, he knew he did, but that couldn’t excuse this behaviour. He could have killed her. Connor knew how hard it was when his mum wasn’t lucid: heck, he had the fading bruises and scabbed scratches to prove it. But his dad was supposed to look after her and protect her; not lose it and beat the crap out of her.

He sighed deeply as he pulled out his mobile phone. He knew what he needed to do.

‘Wouldn’t do that if I were you, lad. I’ll take care of this mess.’ Fred’s voice came from the doorway to the hall. ‘You ring this in and your dad will be arrested for domestic assault. Your mum will be shipped off to some godforsaken home where she’ll wither away in a pool of her own piss.’

‘He hit her, Fred. I can’t just do nothing. I’ve got an obligation to report—’

‘You have an obligation to your family,’ said Fred, grabbing Connor’s arm and pulling him into the hallway, and shutting the living room door with a soft click. ‘You’re not doing this, Son. He might get off, he might not – but you’re not getting my brother arrested. Your mother will stay here at home where she belongs. You owe her at least the comfort of her own home, not a council-run shit-hole.’

Connor was ready to argue his point, but Fred continued, ‘Look, I’m here every day as it is. I’ll come more often, make sure your dad has some time to himself, so this doesn’t unravel again. You know he loves Sheila. Taking her away will break him. God knows she doesn’t make it easy, but he loves her. Don’t you want your mum to be looked after?’

Connor nodded slowly. ‘Yes, but not at the expense of everyone else. It’s time she was in a home, Fred. It’s not up to you to look after her, and I work too much to be here more than I am now. It’s safer for her, and better for Dad that she goes in one – and the sooner the better.’

‘He’s my brother dammit, we take care of our own.’

‘Adopted brother,’ Connor corrected, getting frustrated.

‘Besides, imagine how bad it would look if you reported it. Your mum always could spin a yarn. What if she mentioned to one of the social workers, or one of your cop friends that her precious son gives his uncle information on raids and the like. I can’t imagine being exposed as a rat would go down all that well at work, Son.’

‘You bastard,’ spat Connor, clenching his fists.

‘Like father, like son,’ said Fred, his eyes cold as he flashed a glance down to Connor’s hands. ‘You wouldn’t know a set of balls if they jumped up and bit you on the arse, you jumped-up little shit. And you definitely don’t have the cojones needed to take me on. I’ve enough dirt on you to have you put away for three lifetimes and don’t think I wouldn’t squeal to high heaven if you don’t do what I say. You … Will … Not … Tell … A … Soul.’ He punctuated each word by jabbing a finger into Connor’s chest, his face so close that Connor could smell the stale stench of cigarettes and whisky.

‘I’ll deal with it. You can go.’ Fred dismissed him with a nod towards the front door.

‘You can’t just kick me out of my parents’ home.’ Connor tried to sound certain, but he knew it was already a foregone conclusion. He would be leaving any second. Fred was right, there was no way he could report this. It would mean his job.

‘I believe I