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

A picture formed of little Christopher jumping around in front of the TV as the Honey Monster adverts played. Christ, I had to think of a way out of this mess. Otherwise, that little boy’s life was going to turn upside down again. Paul Colney will finish Jenny and me off in some accident. Shirley would have her revenge for David and then convince the authorities Beth was her grandchild. My best friend would return to the Broxworth, just as it was the first time, but not with her mother.

No, this time, it would be with her grandmother – even worse.

43

3rd February 1977

Wacky-Backy

After I arrived at Jenny’s parents’ on Monday evening, we didn’t stay long. Jenny could tell my mind was somewhere else and knew I desperately wanted to talk to her about my meeting with Jess.

John was very supportive and told us not to worry. Shirley Colney was all-mouth, as he put it, and he’d have a word with a few of the boys at the station who could put the squeeze on the Colneys. Of course, he didn’t know what I now knew and, he had no idea of the added complication that I’d killed David Colney.

Even if I could avoid the potential prison sentence if I came clean about David’s demise, it would surely be enough to suggest Jenny and I were not fit parents for Christopher and Beth. Keeping under wraps the events of that day last September was crucial, which meant I couldn’t get any official support to hold off the impending doom of what Shirley and Paul had planned.

I concluded Shirley Colney was intelligent and calculating. That skill I don’t believe she passed to any of her four boys, as I knew David hadn’t shown those attributes and Paul certainly didn’t. Whatever hellish dick-dastardly plans they had in store for my family and me, Paul Colney would be itching to get on with it.

Jenny and I agreed to stay with Don for a couple of days. We could get away without telling anyone, and it would give us a little bit of time to think about our next move. Don, as always, was so supportive. Apart from the time-travel situation, we were able to talk freely with him about our dilemma without the terrifying thought of Paul or Shirley knocking on the door. Christopher loved the adventure, and Beth didn’t know any different.

The three of us concluded that Shirley intended to get Beth by legal means. This meant we didn’t see any danger to either Christopher, Beth or Jenny’s parents, so we relaxed about the days when John and Frances had the kids – they would all be safe.

For Shirley to achieve her goal by the legal route, she’d have to ensure that Jenny and I were removed from the picture. We debated this for hours, going around and around in circles. Jenny’s view was very much in the camp that although the Colneys were evil, they wouldn’t risk killing us both to get Beth. This idea was too fanciful and stuff of crime thrillers, she’d said.

Don was at the other end of the spectrum, stating he knew what the family was capable of and firmly believed they would be prepared to do us in, as he put it. I sat somewhere in the middle. I was sure Shirley was calculating and ultimately didn’t really give a toss what happened to Paul. If she was as switched on as I thought she was, she knew Paul would eventually come to a sticky end. Either dead by another’s hand or a stretch in prison. She probably expected he’d be caught for peddling drugs, dishing out beatings, or as she’d just discovered his other passion in life – rape.

On Thursday evening, we sat around the kitchen table. This time, Martin had joined us as we repeatedly mulled over our plans to get out of this mess. The kids were tucked up in bed, although Christopher played up a bit as he’d pleaded for his grandpa to read at least two stories. Don, his honorary grandpa, of course relented. I knew Don was loving every minute of reading stories infinitely more than Christopher enjoyed listening to them.

With a near-empty bottle of Whyte & Mackay and a new bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label in the middle of the table, we all held our glasses and stared at the ceiling. It was as if we were trying to grasp divine inspiration or having a séance. Martin was becoming impatient, saying we had to deal with the bastard and quickly.

“He raped my mother, for Christ’s sake! We can’t just sit around any longer doing feck all … let’s just go deal with the fucker!”

“What you on about, son, who’s your mother?” Don questioned, as he peered over his glasses.

“Ow! Bollocks that fricking hurt!” Martin scraped his chair back and grabbed his shin. “You’ve drawn blood, I expect.” He scowled at Jenny, who appeared to have rammed the heel of her stiletto down his shin as a warning to shut up after his outburst.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Martin, I didn’t realise your leg was there.” She glared at him, willing him to realise what he’d said.

“Don’t worry about your leg, son. Jenny didn’t mean it. I’ve seen blokes have legs blown off in the trenches make less fuss. Now, what you on about Paul Colney raped your mother? Who is she?”

Martin continued to rub his leg, but I could tell by his expression he’d realised the cock-up he’d made.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. I don’t know what I was talking about.”

“It’s that funny tobacco you smoke, son. I can smell it over the garden fence. It’ll send your brain skew-whiffy.”

I looked at Martin and arched my eyebrows.

“Mandy gave it to me. Haven't had a spliff for years. It’s good stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “Randy Mandy?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to Nursey Nicole then?”

“Nothing. Alternate days, you know … variety is the spice of life,