Ahead of his Time by Adrian Cousins (children's books read aloud .txt) 📕

up to Coreys Mill Motors and warn Mr Thacker about Paul Colney. What the hell I’ll tell him, and what he’ll then do, I had no idea. More to the point, what will Paul Colney do? Any police involvement was an absolute no no, because that would accelerate the unravelling. If Paul did cause problems with Mr Thacker, he’d call the police. There was no way I could stop that from happening.

Then the police would be knocking on my door. I just had to hope Don was right, and whoever saw me on that roof that day would never talk to the police.

The day had arrived, literally, as the grey skies pushed the dark night around the curvature of the earth. Also, metaphorically, as I had a feeling today would be a watershed moment in my life.

Part 3

36

12th August 1976

Guillotine

“Come on, Chris, stop your dawdling.” Carol grabbed the back of his t-shirt and hauled him up the last few steps to the top landing of Dublin House, his black plimsols scraping up the last step. She stopped and held onto the metal railing that was presumably in place to stop you from leaning too far over the edge of the balcony.

“Shit!” Carol pulled her hand away as the steel rail was burning hot. Today was a scorcher as it had been every day for weeks. In this heat, she was panting and out of breath. Carol leant against the wall and took a moment to collect herself. Chris stood with his arms loose by his side, staring down at the concrete landing.

She knew she was a shit mother and had let Chris down. She also knew she’d be a shit mother to her new baby. She rubbed her tummy through her blouse which was stretched to the limit, buttons ready to ping off at any moment. She couldn’t afford any maternity clothes, so the ones she had would have to do.

“I wanna go home,” Christopher said to the floor.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You’re always whining.”

Christopher wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffed and snivelled, as he continued to gaze at the concrete floor. Carol took another deep breath to calm her breathing and her nerves. She knew this wasn’t going to be an easy chat. However, she was skint, and someone had to help. The landing smelt of stale urine, and now Carol felt sick again as she gulped in piss-ridden air as she prepared to walk along to the most frightening door on the estate.

Carol banged on the door and took an involuntary step backwards, perhaps knowing what was on the other side and the danger it represented. She looked down at Christopher as he sat with his back against the wall, his arms tightly wrapped around his knees and his head buried in between them. He looked like a hedgehog curling up to avoid danger.

“Don’t you fucking cause a scene. I want none of your fucking antics today. You just keep your mouth shut, d’you ’ear?”

Christopher didn’t reply. He just gave a slight flinch as he probably expected a smack was coming, which it often did.

The door flung open, and there she stood. Up close, she looked younger than Carol thought she was, or it could’ve been the heavy make-up disguising the monster which lay beneath. Carol gulped and froze. Now she was here she didn’t know what to say.

Shirley folded her arms and inspected the piece of trash who’d knocked on her door. She looked it up and down from the greasy unkept mouse-coloured hair down to her dirty blouse which stretched over her protruding belly. Shirley noticed a little boy scrunched up by the wall who peaked at her and then quickly buried his head in his knees.

“Well?” Shirley asked the trash.

Carol couldn’t look Shirley Colney in the eye. This was a mistake and a dangerous one. She started to feel light-headed again caused by a combination of heat, being pregnant, the smell of piss on the landing and pure fear. “Can I talk to you?”

“Can’t hear you, girl. You’re mumbling. What d’you want?”

Carol blew out her cheeks and looked up into Shirley’s eyes. Now terrified, she could feel herself starting to shake.

Shirley grabbed the door frame preparing to slam the door. “I’ll ask you one more time. What d’you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you, please,” she delivered slightly louder this time and with a tone that suggested almost begging.

“Shirley refolded her arms and arched her eyebrows as an indication for her to continue. She expected the girl was terrified, and she should be. No one in their right mind knocked on the Colney’s door without an invitation.

Carol rubbed her tummy. “Your son … your son is … is the father.” She looked away, down the corridor. There she’d done it. Although now shitting herself about what would happen next.

Shirley laughed, or more of a cackle as if she was a Tricoteuse, knitting and cackling as the guillotine severed the head of another poor soul. “Patrick or Paul wouldn’t go near disgusting trash like you!” Shirley curled up her lip at the hideous sight in front of her. “Now, piss off before I make your life hell.” She grabbed the door and flung it shut.

“Not Patrick or Paul,” Carol blurted out before the door slammed.

Shirley grabbed the door to stop its flight into the frame and yanked it back open. “Well, it’s not the other two, you stupid cow; they’re just boys!”

Carol steeled herself. Now she’d got this far, she had to carry on. “David … David is the father.”

Shirley stepped forward as Carol stepped back. This continued until Carol’s back hit the wall on the other side of the landing. “You’ve got a fucking cheek, coming up here and talking shit like that.” She raised her hand to slap the trash girl across the face.

Carol looked at the hand hovering in the air, then closed her eyes. Shirley smacked her hard, causing Carol’s