Catch as Catch Can (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 1), Malcolm Hollingdrake [best large ereader .TXT] 📗

‘No problem.’

The traffic was busy and a police car, all sirens and lights flashing drove past at some speed. The address that Brad had been given was that of Chelle Pearson – Kelly Jones.

Over the chill of the wind, Kelly Jones moved along the footpath that linked Up Holland with Orrell. It was away from the road, well-trodden. To keep out of the mud she walked as closely to the barbed wire fence as possible. She had spent some time on the footpath by the golf course watching the golfers putt and drive. Their lives seemed so normal, so stress free; it hardly seemed fair. Now in limbo she wondered if she had done the right thing having left the only family she had known, if it could be classed as such. Leaning on a wooden fence she watched a white golf ball roll along the green leaving but a slight trail. It immediately reminded her of herself.

For most of her life she had been that ball, a life in limbo and then struck and retrieved, cleaned and put away before being summoned and abused again. The worst fear was again realised the moment she saw the ball disappear into the hole. It brought a chill and the thought of her man. She had seen the news of the discovery of the body on the beach. She had seen the police photograph and she knew. He too, like some small, white golf ball, had disappeared off course to be lost in the bunker, eventually disappearing in the sand. She had seen on the same news the image of the medal and the Perspex disc. Digging into her pocket she retrieved a similar disc, but hers was clean. On one side in shiny gilt was the dollar sign. We’ll soon have the real thing, I promise, and this is for you, a token of your trust in this venture together. Those that are with me have one too. He had spoken with such excitement before placing them both into his eyes, trapping them with his brows like two monocles. I will see to that. His accent was strong. They had both laughed. They had fallen into his hands. She had tried to mimic his actions but had failed. The memory was warm in total contrast to the now chill wind. She began to cry and walked on. His luck, his gamble had failed and the consequences had been severe.

What Kelly did know was that she had to stay away from her old haunts. Sadiq’s promise of a reward was three hundred pounds, but at his luxury flat he had intruded into her bed that night, as if it were his right to use her when needed, just like Malik. There was never benevolence nor love with them. She had to earn every single penny and she despised them for that. Strangely, that was not what hurt the most. It was Sadiq’s deceit. The call to the landlady, the lies about the disappearance of the one person she trusted, dare she believe, loved. He only ever revealed what he wanted her to know. His words had sounded hollow even though they appeared to be delivered with sincerity. She mimicked him, Chelle, you’re a good girl. We need you. You ride so well. I love you and your body. This sex is our secret, promise? She then recalled his anger at the tattoos. He did what he was good at. He reeled her in, pretended to love her and then bang! Life was always like that.

Shaking her head, she watched a magpie rise from the field. ‘Morning, Mr Magpie,’ she instinctively said as her eyes followed its flight away into the woods. She had found a warm, dry place. It once had been a tunnel running from the former Nobel works at Gathurst towards the station. It was hidden and off the beaten track. She never felt safe in shop doorways or parks, too many cameras and far too many people who were ready to take advantage. It would have to do until she could find a hostel, a secure and proper place to live but not just yet. Here, in the countryside, were people who minded their own business, walked dogs, took photographs, ran and cycled. She had time to think and she would be safe for the moment at least.

She pulled up the hood of her parka and threw the bag over her shoulder. Just like the bird, she headed for the woods.

Chapter 14

Skeeter held onto her opponent with a vice-like grip. The effort performed by the two women was clear from the sweat on their faces and that deposited on the blue mat. She was determined to turn her opponent, to pin both her shoulders to the canvas but despite all her skill, the woman was not for turning. The bout had been harder than she had anticipated and this contestant was no push over. This was the type of challenge she loved at the pit. Over the years many a world-class wrestler had progressed through the ranks.

Lancashire wrestling, Catch as Catch Can, had been in her blood from childhood. It was in that of her brother and father. Protesting initially, as she could not be left at home, she had been taken along too, doll in hand. Soon after seeing others her age, the doll was forgotten. The original gym was world-renowned and so too were the early exponents. It was the Japanese on visiting the Wigan gym who gave it the name, The Snake Pit. They said upon attempting to throw a Wigan wrestler, that he would land on his front and attack you like a snake. The name stuck.

There would be no break or breather for either Skeeter or her opponent, no bell, no water and no quarter. The rules were straightforward too. No punching, slapping