It had been a couple of weeks since Rachel had left Richard, and he still refused to go to work and rarely left Number Four. People like Max and Jack were trying to keep an eye on him, calling round in an attempt to make him snap out of this trance….but nothing was working. Richard needed help. Or Rachel back again.

 

The phone had already rung about ten times before he answered it, knocking an empty beer bottle onto the floor.

 

‘Hello mum...no, for the last time, I do not want you to come and look after me!’ He slammed the phone back down in a rage. His mother was the last person he wanted to hear from…

 

 

***

 

 

On an equally depressive note, over at Number Six, Jo was still trying to keep an eye on Gary since his attack.

 

‘Are you OK today, mate?’

 

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t, feeling more sorry for himself and becoming quite withdrawn over the last few days.

 

‘Y’know,’ she sat next to him on the sofa and grabbed his arm, ‘there’s no shame in what happened to you. Think how much worse things could have been?’

 

Gary started to become agitated, wanting sympathy and obviously not getting enough of it!

 

Are you saying I’m making a fuss over nothing?’

 

‘No, of course not, but you’ve got to keep everything in proportion,’ Jo was trying to help but knew that she wasn’t telling him what he wanted to hear.

 

‘Listen Jo, I haven’t had it easy, as you well know, so I’m just wondering what I’ve done to deserve this!’

 

Just as he finished his sentence, Kris walked into the room. She was already in a bad mood because her and Nathan still weren’t getting on well.

 

‘Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself and act like a man, you’re not a little boy now, Gary!’

 

‘Kris!’

 

Gary got up, grabbed his coat and stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

 

‘Oh you’re so tactful Kris, it’s incredible!’ Jo was furious with her.

 

‘Weeeell!! I can’t be doing with his whining! It was only a bit of a beating up, worse things happen in schools these days!’ She ranted, lighting up a cigarette.

 

Jo sighed.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Laura had arranged to meet Nathan in Alborford Park on Easter Sunday afternoon. It was sunny and hot, as they lay on the grass kissing.

 

 

 

What if someone sees us here? We’re not exactly far from home?’ Laura was starting to panic about their fling. After all, Kris was not someone to mess with, they’d clashed over Nick Turner in the past.

 

‘Who cares? Me and Kris are practically over the way things have been going lately,’ Nathan stroked her hair, eyeing up a group of sunbathing women in the corner.

 

‘So why don’t you dump her?’ Laura asked, with particular venom.

 

‘It’s tricky, darlin’. My bro’ didn’t have to give me a roof over my head. I’ve got to keep everyone there sweet, or they might chuck me out. There’s no way I’m going back to mum and dad’s!’ What he said was true, but Nathan did get a bit of a thrill out of juggling two women.

 

‘Bet she isn’t a patch on me, eh?’

 

‘She sure isn’t!’ He kissed her again. Another lie. Kris was all woman to Nathan, whereas he was just toying with Laura. She was no challenge, just a bit of fun.

 

 

***

 

 

Sam and Ros were spending the Easter break in Great Yarmouth.

 

‘I haven’t been here for a while, about 3 years ago with Nick,’ Ros smiled at the memory.

 

‘Mum and dad always used to bring us here at weekends with Gran. Just for Gran’s benefit really, so it wasn’t far for her to travel.’

 

 

 

 

They walked past the tacky souvenir shops and noticed an old waxworks museum.

 

‘Oh yeah, I remember going in there alright,’ Ros laughed.

 

‘Really?’

 

‘Nick thought it’d be fun to stand between some of the waxworks and pretend to be one for half an hour. He managed to fool a few old biddies, I was in fits! That was one of the few times I got him out of the pub though,’ Ros started laughing just at the thought of it.

 

‘You still miss him, don’t you?’ Sam asked.

 

‘Not as much as I did, it’s just strange, so many things remind me….it was his birthday on March 25th, so I suppose I’ve been thinking about him more lately. Sorry.’

 

‘No, don’t apologise, I’d be worried if you didn’t,’ he put his arm around her as they went into the waxworks museum…

 

 

***

 

 

‘I can’t find Gary anywhere!’ Jo snapped at Kris when she returned, after searching for him for a while.

 

‘Oh, let him get on with it, I’m going for a walk. Might go and read in the park, if the weather stays nice.’

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

The Headless Pint was doing a roaring trade in the sunny holiday weather, and Max chatted to Fiona Redfern, Jack’s cousin who worked behind the bar occasionally.

 

‘Yeah, it’s been pretty manic at work leading up to Easter.’

 

‘It must be exciting working at a radio station,’ Fiona was starting to flirt with Max.

 

‘It’s good, plenty of money being made there at the moment.’

 

‘Perhaps you can spend some of it on me sometime?’ She asked.

 

‘Er, yeah sure….Tell you what, fancy going for a meal when you finish here?’ Max was surprised how forward she was...but he wasn’t going to complain!

 

 

***

 

Back at Alborford Park, Laura came back with some ice creams for the two of them.

 

‘I can’t believe how hot it is!’ Laura took her T-shirt off, revealing a bikini top.

 

‘Lie back down here,’ Nathan practically ordered, starting to pull her towards him.

 

Neither of them saw Kris walking by, watching them…

 

 

***

 

In spite of the sunshine, Gary’s world was still dark. He wandered across some fields on the outskirts of town, eventually sitting by a wall.

 

Depression had taken hold of him since the attack and that, combined with his past coming back to haunt him regularly, had finally taken its toll.

 

Gary pulled a bottle of whisky from his coat pocket, broke the seal and took his first swig.

 

Looking up at some singing birds, he then opened a bottle of pills, and began to combine them with mouthful after mouthful of the whisky...

© 2010 Danny Alborough / DJA Publications
All characters, names and situations are fictitious.
Any similarities to places or people, living or dead, are purely coincidental.