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

little chance of a smile coming. Presumably, her concrete makeup had set her face to a scowl. I had now developed a growing unease about where this conversation was heading.

“Sorry, no. Can I help you?”

Jenny joined me at the front door and nuzzled up to my side, her head resting on my arm as I waited for the woman to answer.

The scary woman took a further step forward, closing the gap between us to less than a yard.

“Shirley Colney. We’ve never met. But you’ve ’eard of me, I’m sure of that.” With her bleached hair, dark roots and evil voice, it appeared Cruella de Vil had left ‘Hell Hall’ and arrived on our doorstep.

As with Mr Thacker, yesterday morning, when it appeared that a plug had been pulled out of his neck, the very same effect seemed to be syphoning out the blood from my veins.

“What d’you want?” I heard myself say, although I didn’t remember my brain deciding to instruct my vocal cords to speak. I could feel Jenny now gripping my arm.

“That baby is my granddaughter.”

Her words took an age to register in my brain, and they seemed to hang in the air before deciding on their final destination. It then took an age for me to compute those five simple words and the meaning they delivered. Jenny’s grip on my upper arm tightened even further as if feeling the pressure of the pump on a blood pressure machine reaching its optimum peak point.

“We’ve unfinished business – you and me – you’ll see. Your time is nearly up, and when that happens … that little girl will be mine.”

39

31st January 1977

Bunsen Burner

Sunday night was a return to those nights of a week ago, as in achieving very little sleep. After getting rid of the monster disguised as Shirley Colney from our doorstep, Jenny and I felt the cracks widening in our perfect life. That bloody Colney family, which I seemed unwittingly to be totally entwined with, had just rammed another wedge in the cracks.

Shirley was clear that Beth was her granddaughter, and her evil child-abusing, future serial killer son, David, was Beth’s father. I’d pulled myself together after the shock of her visit and banished her away from our home, but I’d no idea what she meant by that statement, ‘Your time is nearly up.’

I stayed strong for Jenny, who was terrified of what would now happen. As I was, although I didn’t show it. Keeping a level head and a lid on my emotions was critical to convincing Jenny that it would all turn out okay. I was putting on a good show. However, Jenny was right to be worried.

Shirley Colney had stated that Carol Hall had told her last year that she and David had got it together when he was fifteen. A coming-of-age present from her son, Paul, as she put it. Shirley claimed the product of David and Carol’s liaison was apparently Beth. She added that she’d dismissed the slag at the time, as she described her, but now knew the truth that Amy Elizabeth was her granddaughter. She made it quite clear she would be part of Beth’s life as she was a Colney and, if we knew what’s good for us, we would comply with her demands.

Jenny planned to call her boss, Barry, and set up a meeting to discuss what support we could expect from the Child Protection team. Although Jenny knew the guidelines on this situation, her head was in a mess and needed Barry’s calm manner to get it all in perspective. We agreed to talk to her parents on Monday evening, and we could then formulate a plan from there.

I had my own separate challenges to deal with today, which involved turning Sarah Moore’s lustful gazes from her thirty-one-year-old son onto the Fairfield Chronicle's future editor, Carlton King. Although Carlton was a bit of a dick-head at school, he manages to aspire to a decent job in the future. Maybe Sarah could do worse, I thought.

“Good Morning, Miss Colman,” I announced, much brighter than I was feeling, as I slugged my way into the school office to prepare for another week.

“Oh, good morning to you too, Mr Apsley. And what a lovely morning it is!” she replied enthusiastically. She seemed to have developed a glow about her.

“How was your weekend? Did you get up to anything exciting?”

I thought for a moment before replying. The events from Friday to yesterday evening could not be described as exciting, but definitely eventful. “No, nothing really,” I replied.

“I had a wonderful weekend. Truly wonderful!”

“Oh, pray tell,” I asked over my shoulder as I hauled out the usual Monday morning heap of paperwork from my pigeonhole, which now hung straight again after Martin had skilfully wielded his screwdriver last week.

Miss Colman didn’t answer. I turned and looked at her as I was now wondering what was going on. She was grinning from ear to ear, glowing like an angel from heaven, and almost hovering a few millimetres above her seat. Knowing she was the biggest gossip who’d ever graced the planet, I was surprised and intrigued by her silence.

“Miss Colman?”

I’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t performed her next moves, as it was who she was. She beckoned me closer with her middle finger, reeling me in. Then conducted the furtive glance left and right, before excitedly blurting it out.

“Mr Trosh proposed to me on Saturday morning!”

“Whaaaa, what! Fantastic! I can't believe it. What happened … how? Tell me everything! This is so exciting!”

Miss Colman almost hopped up and down on her seat. Seeing someone so happy just lifts your spirits and, although my weekend had been a large pile of doo-doo, I was starting to feel better. The glow radiating from this lovely middle-aged lady, who was probably more excited than she’d ever been, caused my clouds of doom to begin to evaporate.

“Mr Apsley, it’s because of you. It’s because of what you said last week.”

Frowning, I was