Threats at Three Read Online Free PDF Page B

wizard of space!”
    Harry chortled and waved his hands about. He had no idea what his aunt was on about, but he loved her dearly. She slid across the seat to sit next to him, gave him a smacking kiss and said he was her favourite nephew. Doug did not fail with the ritual reply that he was her only nephew, so far.
    “Plenty of room,” Doug said, as Lois and Derek climbed into the seven-seater, and with cries of delight for Harry’s benefit, they got under way.

SIX

    T HE MORNING HAD NOT STARTED SO WELL IN WHAT WAS STILL known as Pickerings’ house, though the Pickerings had sold to a mysterious single man who had turned out to be a sinister people trafficker. Needless to say, he had been sent to jail for a long stretch, and the house had been put on the market again. A spry village character had bought it in order to rent it out. He had a deal with the local Social Services Department who needed accommodation for the deserving homeless. One such family were the Hicksons, and they had moved in under the watchful eyes of the villagers.
    The house was one of the many old ironstone buildings in the village, and in bright sunshine it glowed a warm dark gold. The end wall had been built with bands of limestone alternating with ironstone, and on an otherwise perfectly plain family house, the pattern of stripes was a glimpse of a long-gone village builder’s unexpected flight of fancy.
    Inside the thick walls, it was warm and welcoming, and when Paula Hickson had first seen it, she couldn’t believe her luck. Her husband, Jack, had walked out after the fourth boy had been born, saying he couldn’t stand the racket, and she had no idea where he had gone. In a way, she knew they were better off without him, as any money coming in had, since Jack lost his job, gone out again rapidly to be spent on booze, and when he boozed he was violent.
    The house had four bedrooms and a decent bathroom, and downstairs a couple of big rooms and a largish kitchen. Paula was able to furnish the sitting room with stuff provided by Social Services, which was adequate, though she sometimes thought it looked a bit like a junk shop. Still, she told herself, beggars can’t be choosers. She would not forget in a hurry the bailiff’s visit to their old home.
    She decided the other main room, a dining room in the old days probably, would make a good playroom for the boys. A playroom! It was like a dream to a woman who had been living in two small rooms, one of which was a curtained-off bedroom for herself and the boys. Jack Jr. was now thirteen and at Tresham comprehensive. He needed private space for homework, if and when he got round to it, and now he could have one big bedroom to himself. The other two spares, much smaller, were for eight-year-old twins Jim and David, in the hope that separating them for sleep would give them all a bit of peace. Nine-month-old Frankie still slept in a cot alongside his mother.
    The morning had started badly because on going to wake Jack, Paula found he was not in his bedroom and had clearly not slept in his bed. This was the second time he had stayed out somewhere all night, and Paula groaned. He had promised that if she had gone to bed, he would let himself in, and it would not be too late. The previous time this had happened he had said airily that he’d slept over with his mate in Tresham. “Missed the last bus,” he had said, and added that if they had to live in a godforsaken village in the middle of nowhere with only two buses a week, what was he to do?
    “You could let me know! That’s what you could do!” Paula had shouted at him. “Ever heard of the phone?” she had added, and then regretted it, because she could not possibly afford for him to have his own mobile.
    Now she gave the others their breakfasts, and prepared to send the twins off to a school friend’s house for the morning with stern warnings that they were to go straight there and not dillydally on the way. Thank God they had taken to