Chapter 4

Margaret looked out from the window of the office; they had enough work for three of them but she had to make do with the single junior solicitor – which technically she was as well. She spent half her life filing and wondered whether she could afford, and manage to squeeze in, a receptionist-cum-secretary-cum office dogsbody.

It was gone 7pm and the cold Scottish winter had permeated the small first floor office and she pulled her cardigan closer to her body; she was freezing.

She caught a glimpse a bright red in the distance and her eyes narrowed, watching as her boyfriend crossed the road. He glanced around the street and held out his arms, embracing someone else.

Her heart skipped a beat and she gulped, grabbing her keys and striding out of the small office and bursting into the road, a few feet away from them. "Ah come on," the pretender cooed at him and squeezed his hand. "Come back to my place."

Margaret coughed loudly and the couple swung around to see the young solicitor leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed and glaring at them. "Ahh Maggie-moo," the father of her child cried. "Ah didnae see ya there."

"Evidently," Margaret said coldly and raised her eyebrows. "Off ya go. She wants ya to go back to her place." He screwed up his face and went to speak when Margaret shook her head. "Dumped Keith. Stay away for me."

"But..."

"You want her, you have her."

"You can't stop me from seeing Eddie," he shouted.

She shook her head. "I can get an injunction if you want. Stay 'way from me and from Eddie."

George sat down on the small park and waited, watching the ducks fly over the grass and land on the pond with a splash. It was quiet as it had been raining earlier in the day but was now fairly pleasant for the time of year. He scanned the park again and stretched out, waiting for the person he wanted to see.

The wiry figure of Annabel Sprott soon homed in to view, walking up an adjacent path, pushing a red buggy in front of her, containing a baby – so wrapped up that its face was barely visible.

He took a second to admire her beauty – the radiant skin, soft curves that were wrapped under her coat and the smile – the wonderful smile, that seemed to light up every room she went into.

He leant over the back of the park bench and waved subtly at her. She looked at him and took the buggy off the footpath and across the muddy field. "George!" Annabel cried but George waved his hands in a downwards motion to tell her to be quieter. "What?"

Annabel sat down on the bench with him and hissed. "Quieter," he moaned and adjusted her top button on the blouse she was wearing. "How are ya?"

"I heard you'd been arrested?"

"Where from?"

"People," Annabel snapped. "So what 'appened?"

George shrugged. "Nothin'." Annabel glared at him and he took a deep breath. "Nothin' much. 'Onestly love, you dain't believe me."

"'Cause I know you've been up to something."

"They nicked me. They let me go."

She shook her head and he rubbed his hands. "That it?"

"They got me on bail," George snapped. "OK?"

"Oh babes, what ya been up to?"

"Nothin'," George lied and ran his hands through his hair. "And what with Tony you shouldn't care 'bout the odd mucky film..." Annabel interrupted with a snort and rose from the bench but George tugged at her trousers with an apology. "What's he been up to?"

"Nothin'," Annabel told him and he looked at her.

"Talk to me. I'm worried 'bout you and I know you're worried too."

Annabel sighed and looked into his eyes. "Oh I dunno what he's up to. But he always has blood on his shirt. I mean, that ain't a good sign, is it?"

George took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Nah, I mean, where was he last night?" Annabel's eyes narrowed and he looked at her. "I went to your 'ouse, I wanted to see ya but Tony got into his car as I came up the road, like. And I got scared when I saw him."

Annabel gulped and she rubbed her face. "Oh George. Ya can't come up to see me in Tony's house. He'll kill ya."

George shook his head. "Know that. But I want'd see ya babe. Been thinking. 'Bout us. Running away, but reckon that Tony could be a problem."

"Yeah, I know," Annabel snapped. "Look Georgie..."

"Go to the Fuzz," he blurted out and closed his eyes. "Go to them. I'll go with you. You could help put him away and then we could..."

"Are you crazy?" Annabel snapped. "Go to the Fuzz?" He nodded and she got up, ignoring his pleas for her to stay. "I ain't puttin' my daughter's life in that sort of danger. He's got friends in the Police," Annabel spat. "Hell he's half of the Flying Squad in his back pocket and on the payroll" She mocked him with a sneer." Go to the Police, can't think of anything worse. Now I'm going..."

She grabbed hold of the pram and despite George calling her, she was gone.

"Fuck," George cried and held his head in his hands, pulling out the small recorder in his pocket. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tony darted back down behind the bush and swore, peeping out again with the binoculars for a third look. "Fuckin' pigs," he muttered. "All over the fuckin' place." His companion gulped and nodded, checking the deserted road at the top of the little hill for anyone before looking back at his boss. "How much stuff was there?"