Hell Hath No Fury Read Online Free PDF Page A

Benbury by the new estates and factories that had mushroomed on the periphery of the town.
    It made her feel like an interloper; as if she had no right to be there.
    Why was she doing this, punishing herself in this way, she asked herself. What was to be gained from coming back to Benbury? The town had nothing but bad memories for her. Why torment herself like this? It was like picking a scab, or rubbing salt into an open wound.
    It would be far more sensible to forget the humiliation that had forced her and her parents to leave Benbury. Bury it deep in her subconscious the same as she had done before.
    It had remained dormant all these years so why resurrect it!
    What was the old adage her father was so fond of repeating?
Let sleeping dogs lie.
    She should have known that Philip Harmer’s proposal would come to nothing. The very fact that she had fallen in love with him was enough to put a jinx on their relationship, she thought bitterly. Rejection was part of her destiny!
    Even her own parents had rejected her after the rape. They’d tried to hide it, of course, but things had never been the same between the three of them. There had been a strange, nervous atmosphere, even after they’d moved away from Benbury.
    They’d made a superficial protest when she’d said she was leaving home, but they’d made no real attempt to stop her. They’d even given her the deposit to buy a flat in Dutton.
    If only Philip Harmer hadn’t asked her to marry him, she could have borne it. She had actually reconciled herself to the fact that her work stint for him had come to an end. Hoping he might ask her to go with him on his Far East trip had simply been a pipe-dream, a harmless diversion to soften the parting.
    As she sipped her coffee, and stared out of the window, she noticed the name ‘Franklin and Son’ on the newsagent’s directly across the street from the cafe.
    Her cup rattled against the saucer as she put it down.
    Sandy Franklin had been one of the boys involved, and his father had owned a newsagent’s shop.
    The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. To be so close to one of the boys who’d been involved sent shudders through her. She wondered if any of the others were still living in Benbury.
    Maureen steeled herself to go into the newsagent’s when she left the cafe, convincing herself that it would lay one ghost to rest, at least. At the last moment her nerve deserted her, and she backed off. She wasn’t ready to come face to face with Sandy Franklin . . . Not yet.
    It must have been Fate that had made her decide to park by the library, she told herself as she hurried back to where she’d left her car. This was a research job she was going to enjoy.
    Her briefcase was in the car boot. She took out a clipboard and pen. Once in the library she headed straight for the reference section. Twenty minutes later, she had all the information she wanted: the addresses and telephone numbers of the boys who’d raped her.
    There was one more thing she needed . . . A street map.
    Her mind busy with details, she walked back to the High Street. The newsagent’s would be the only shop likely to stock a comprehensive street map. Buoyed up with the success of her research, this time she had no qualms about going in.
    The shop was busy, so Maureen browsed through the various racks of magazines and paperbacks looking for what she wanted. There were no maps at all, not even in the miscellaneous section.
    â€˜Can I help you?’
    She’d been so engrossed that she hadn’t noticed a tall rangy man dressed in slacks and a sweater approach her.
    She looked up and did a double take. Her pulse hammered. She couldn’t be mistaken. It
was
Sandy Franklin. She would have known him anywhere. He was older, of course, but otherwise he hadn’t altered a great deal. His wild shock of red hair had been tamed by a short back and sides, but his raw-boned face and hooded grey