Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) Read Online Free PDF

and only there for show, not that there were any transmissions now anyway. From the other room I could hear Sophie talking to herself, chucking stuff around.  
    Maybe she’d missed all the fireworks the other night. Or blanked it out. That was something she did with anything too complicated or confusing. Still, she was only young, barely out of her twenties, and did have a lot of energy. That was something I liked about her, her enthusiasm. Always throwing herself into whatever the occasion was. Whatever. Maybe it was the only thing I liked about her.  
    I went across to the window, to the side of the room where she had a bookcase filled with cookbooks. Gulls wheeled around outside, between Sophie’s flat and the warehouses opposite, stacked with clothes and provisions in from the continent. Down the lane two men argued about something and behind them was the harbour where ships moving round. Some setting sail, others coming in.  
    I picked up a book. Put it down: more of Sophie’s junk. She did love all this old shit, and it was a little odd really all the tat she collected, but it worked between us. The thing we had was fun. Enjoying ourselves. I was old enough to be her dad but we laughed and messed around like we were teenagers. Most of the time, at least. And it had been her who’d made the initial moves: she’d picked me up. Just over a year ago when I’d been in the George and Dragon. One Saturday night.  
    I’d finished my shift and was having a quiet drink but a fight started at the far side of the bar.  
    Although I could have left it and just carried on drinking I went over. A big fella from one of the ships had hold of some skinny runt, a weaselly street lad. The punches were flying but weird thing was that the runt was winning. He had the big fella back against the wall, pummelling his face. Fists pumping, landing blow after blow. I got hold of one of the bar staff and together we dragged him off. Managed to steer him to the door. He was so intent on the big fella he barely noticed us. We threw him out of the pub, his hands still clenched and insults pouring out of him. But the barman stood at the door and kept it bolted while he left off his steam out in the cold.  
    I went back to my whisky and that was when the big guy found his balls. He came over to me saying he’d not needed any help and I’d made him look stupid. I’d had a rough day dealing with street kids and smart-arse deckhands. I wasn’t prepared to take stick in my free time.  
    ‘Listen,’ I said, ‘you’re right. You didn’t need my help. You’re quite capable of making yourself look stupid.’ It was a daft thing to say but it slipped out and there were a few laughs from round the bar.
    The fella puffed himself up like he was going to explode.
    Then he flicked a punch out at me. It caught me on the arm and knocked me off my bar stool. I staggered for a couple of steps and he laughed, a great guffaw.
    That was enough. I swung a wide hook and belted him in the jaw.
    Before he regained his balance I pinned him against the wall. Piled into him. After a little knocking around he decided to go back to his boat. Maybe I’d got carried away, blamed him for all the shit in the town. Maybe he deserved it. It was hard to say.
    When I returned to the bar my drink had another fresh one sitting by it. And Sophie was there. She’d taken the stool next to mine, bought me the drink.  
    She gave me a big smile. ‘That was something.’
    ‘Was it?’ I sat down and took a drink, looked her up and down. She was all dolled up in tight dress and heels. Hair up and plenty of make-up on. Not normally what I went for but she was keen and friendly.
    ‘Not seen you here before,’ she said.
    ‘Not been in town that long.’
    ‘Sorted those two out easy enough.’
    ‘Just doing what had to be done.’
    ‘I like a man who can look after himself.’ At that she slid her hand onto my knee, kept it there.  
    We drank more and she told me about