CHAPTER 24
“Up you get, Duck! Time to get rolling!”

The beginning of March, and my bag was already packed, along with my bedroll, stowed in the van. I found the bathroom empty, to no great surprise, so I pulled my nighty off for a quick wash of the various bits Ken referred to as “Face, fork and pits”, as well as doing my teeth.

CHAPTER 22
There is something I have always liked about a sleeping bag, and in later years I discovered the same feelings for small tents. It feels nest-like, a small space entirely one’s own, where everything feels close and warm. I luxuriated in my bag for a little while after I woke, but I needed a wee, and there was only so long I could put it off. In nighty, dressing gown and socks, I did the necessary before creeping down the stairs and past the living room door. From behind it came the sound of more than one snorer. I filled the kettle, and then decided to set a pan of water boiling so that there would be plenty for the tea that I knew would vanish almost as soon as it was poured.

CHAPTER 20
As I slipped out of the back door, Ken coughed for attention, and I dropped both carrier bags in shock.

“Where were you going, Deb?”

CHAPTER 17
We spent two more days in our little place in the woods, which sat on a very quiet road in a corner of Kent that somehow seemed to escape the hurry and bustle of the outside world despite sitting so close to three main roads. Years later, I would read of the man who lived secretly in his tent, hidden away in the bushes of the central reservation of the dual carriageway leading past Southampton’s railway station, his life passing in parallel with that of the commuters streaming past each day.

CHAPTER 15
“What’s a diddycoy, Loz?”

“Ah, love, it’s one of those words that has two meanings. Two uses, really. See, Ken’s Romany, mother and father. Me, it’s just my Dad, so that makes me a sort of mongrel, and the old Romany word means mixed blood. That’s one meaning, and one use of the word. If you were ours by blood, that is what you would be. The other meaning is also tied in with how it gets used, and it’s just another insult. They throw the same thing at the tinkers, and most of them have got big houses in Ireland as well as bloody big caravans.

CHAPTER 13
The ‘pernackity’ turned out to be a sort of hotpot, sliced potatoes in a rich gravy; the ‘stotty’ was a flat, round piece of bread. In later years, the closest equivalent I could find was ciabatta. It had the same dense texture and weight to it, and I was profoundly disappointed to discover that many ‘stotties’ sold in chain stores were actually just a flatter version of sliced white bread.

CHAPTER 11
I was officially no longer a Rally Virgin, with the badge to prove it, so I was feeling ten feet tall as we rolled into the site entrance, which was in a field next to a motorway. There was the usual collection of hairy people at the gate, all with the badges and patches now so familiar to me, many in the woolly hats that were almost a membership badge in their own right.

“Loz?”

“Yes, love?”

“Is this an MC thing?”

CHAPTER 9
I didn’t sleep that well, as there was music until very late in the morning. I couldn’t call it ‘early’ as it had passed beyond that. We were still up and out by eight o’clock, though, and after Loz had inspected my injuries, I dressed, in the longer skirt this time. I went to fill the kettle, but she stopped me.

“Time for a little lesson in manners, love. Don’t worry, you’ve done nothing wrong! It is just that we have a few ways of doing things you need to learn. Grab three mugs for us”

CHAPTER 7
Gandalf put a couple of fingers into his mouth and gave a piercing two-not whistle, something I had seen on screens large and small but thus far never in real life. A couple of children of around my age came running up, grinning with excitement.

“Rosie, Sam: We want two pints for Badger and his missus, and a hot choc for Debbie here”

The boy laughed.

“Two pints of what, Dad?”

CHAPTER 5
We were still naked when Ken came back in, his figure shadowy through the shower curtain.

“Got you this, duck. Clean clothes are on the table. Pair of flip-flops in her size as well, as long as those were her shoes”

He handed a safety razor and a pair of scissors over the top of the curtain rail, then blurred again as he moved away, calling back, “I can change the filter tomorrow, so don’t worry unless it clogs”

LIFELINE LEAPFROG
As discussed following the first two parts, I am slicing away a chunk of the early part of the book to avoid distress. There is a huge story I want to write, but it has to start somewhere, and that place involves Charlie Cooper. This offering bypasses that with a summary, and then leads into the story at a later date.

I intend to include a fuller beginning when I publish commercially, but just not here, not now.

Anyone familiar with my work will know exactly what Cooper is, and how he likes to spend his quality personal time. I left Billy about to meet him and Don, and I need not spell out what happens over the next three years of care home life. A summary:

Much abuse. Much of what you read in ‘Job’ and ‘New Beat’. Two escape attempts by Billy, in both of which they meet a friendly police sergeant. I have described the bars on the windows. Billy marks his shirt cuff with the width of the bolt, and when he is awaiting return from the police station again, he finds he is left in a storeroom for once, rather than a cell: there is a prison visitor inspection in full flow, and Sgt Friendly does NOT want him seen or spoken to. There is a lost/stolen bicycle in the room awaiting disposal. It has a saddle bag, and a flat cycle spanner slips into his underpants after a quick check against his shirt cuff…

Now read on.

CHAPTER ONE
Dad had his belt ready, yet again.

“Billy boy, this going to stop, one way or the other”

Four strokes that time, me bent over the arm of the settee so he could get a decent swing in. At least he left my trousers on while he hit me.

“Room. Now. Or you get another one”

CHAPTER 85
I left Chester with a real sense of hope, while wondering what else DI Mulready had in the way of evidence against Linehan or O’Sullivan. I suspected that my team had not been the only ones digging for things other than gold. There would still be a long way to go for Ben and Peter, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to end badly.

CHAPTER 83
Chris had really worked hard at his planning, I realised, as our ‘two tribes’ crossed paths at the halfway point. Annie had been sent off with Darius, so I had Eric with me for the first part of the evening. I decided as we started our walk that I wouldn’t pump him for info, but me and good intentions have never been the firmest of friends.

“When did you decide this trip, Eric?”

CHAPTER 81
Rhod may have been glad to see me, but he had an odd way of showing it, which consisted of dumping the cat into my lap after I had slumped into the settee, followed by recounting what seemed like a century of playground gossip, largely involving children I had never heard of. Blake was at work, so Dad and Mam had driven boy and beast back to our place, together with a big pot of cawl. My larger boy was home at six, and after we had worked our way through a chip supper (I was willing neither to cook nor let Mam do so), the three of us were alone. Three, plus Fritz, who was snoring. Blake set a video going, something about climbing in North Wales he had picked up on our trip, and left boy and cat to their own devices.

CHAPTER 79
The dining room in the hotel was pretty shabby, and the choice not the greatest, but they had chilled apple juice on tap and as much tea as I could drink, which helped with the beer-mouth. I loaded up on carbs and grease, before sorting out some odds and sods for a morning of wandering along the front while waiting until it was time to head over to the little hospital for my friend’s return from theatre.

I suppose I should have been there for her departure for surgery, but I was so terrified at the possible dangers I hid in the city instead, and played tourist. There was, after all, plenty to see, even if I didn’t go up on the ‘i360’, a viewing platform on the sea front.

CHAPTER 77
Annie was smirking, and although Eric was doing his best, his own mouth was twitching. I gave him a by-now-well-practised Mother Look, and he shrugged.

“They did it to us, Di, years ago”

Annie slapped his arm.

“You mean me, love! Di, first time I went to that music day event, and they had video of the whole sodding thing!”

CHAPTER 75
It was a wrench leaving our little home from home. It had been a delight, locals and Brenin staff full of smiles and welcome, the experience made immeasurably better as I watched the strain drop from people’s faces and posture. It had been a release for all of us, and I am sure my own tells had been just as overwhelming. Bless you, boss.

CHAPTER 73
Once again, I should have seen that one coming.

“By any chance, reasons that might be blonde?”

The younger woman turned sharply, fixing me with quite an intense gaze.

“You still manage to surprise me, Di. I get so used to you seeing things so clearly it throws me when you miss something in plain sight. Sammy hasn’t”

CHAPTER 70
We made our way back to Central in convoy, some of the vehicles peeling off to deposit their prisoners at other nicks, the numbers being rather too big for one Custody Suite to hold. I was glad to be able to get rid of all the Personal Protective Equipment that had been weighing me down. I am not a small girl, nor exactly chest-heavy, but I am sure the designers of the ballistic vest were either misogynists playing a nasty joke, or simply nerds with no concept of what a woman’s body actually looked like. Bloody uncomfortable things.

CHAPTER 68
That was something that I really should have guessed. It was one thing, far from easy in itself, setting up such a complex and personnel-heavy operation, costing such huge sums, no doubt, that Force accountants’ sphincters would be twitching. Actually setting the whole thing in motion would bring similar lower-back problems to the Crown Prosecution Service and the Brass.

What did we have, in the end? Rather a lot of observation data about booze, plus some specific intelligence that we couldn’t possibly divulge. Not a nice place to be in; I really felt for Sammy, and wondered how well Wildcat, in her professed love of dogs, had understood what would be needed when it came to the crunch of big teeth.

CHAPTER 67
That night, as with so many others, I lay with my husband trying to sort the day out while taking so much comfort from the simple fact of his presence beside me. Sammy’s moodiness was niggling away at me, however, so my relaxation was nowhere near absolute.

“Penny for them?”

I chuckled at that one.

“Clichés now, love?”