Page 125 of Little Children

Kim felt the hands tighten around her throat. She tried to gulp air into her body, but it couldn’t get past the chokehold.

Come on, Bryant, she silently prayed. If you ever wanted to be a hero, now’s your time.

The woman’s face swam before her eyes as she heard the sound of footsteps on gravel. Lots of them.

‘Get her!’ Lewis shouted from the darkness.

Suddenly, hands and feet appeared from nowhere: grabbing, punching, kicking.

The pressure released from around her neck, and she began to cough.

The woman was on her back, her hands over her face as she rolled around, trying in vain to avoid the blows being rained down on her from six angry boys who had miraculously found the spirit to fight back.

Kim opened her mouth to stop them when she saw headlights coming up the drive. A siren in the distance told her she was safe, but the boys instinctively gathered around her, leaving the woman to lie groaning on the ground.

‘It’s okay,’ she reassured the boys, seeing the familiar number plate. ‘They’re with me.’

Bryant stopped the car and jumped out, sprinting towards her despite his earlier injuries.

‘Did you stop for coffee on the way?’ she asked.

He pointed to the smoke billowing from the barn. ‘Took a wrong turn somewhere, but that seemed to have your name all over it.’

She nodded her understanding.

‘You okay?’ he asked, also taking a look at the boys.

‘We’re all fine,’ she said, squeezing Lewis’s arm.

Penn approached, and both men started removing jackets and jumpers to give to the boys. Most of them took the clothing, but Lewis just leaned further into her.

‘It’s okay, buddy,’ she said, patting his shoulder. ‘You can trust these men. They’ll take care of you.’

He moved towards Bryant, who was fetching a high-vis jacket from the boot of the car.

A movement to the right caught Kim’s attention.

The woman was reaching into her back pocket.

Kim swatted her hand away and took the phone.

As she did so, the screen came to life with an incoming call.

Kim stared at the ringing phone for long seconds before raising her gaze to her waiting colleague. The last pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She finally had the proof she’d been after.

‘Bryant, I’m taking the car. Text Red immediately. This is what I want you to say.’

Eighty-Two

Stacey was just gathering up everyone’s coffee mugs as Iris entered the squad room, pulling her vacuum cleaner behind her.

‘Late tonight, Iris,’ Stacey said, passing her on the way to the kitchen.

‘It’s my anniversary, so I changed my shift,’ she said, switching on the vacuum cleaner and preventing Stacey from striking up any further conversation.

She washed out the mugs, her mind playing over the events of the night. Once the fight venue had emptied, there had been nothing more for her and Steve Ashworth to do.

The reporter had been helpful, and between the two of them and Adil, they’d managed to record the registration number of every vehicle leaving the venue. They had been surprised at the number of luxury car models they’d seen, indicating that this was a lucrative sport that attracted many wealthy spectators. Ashworth had offered to drive her and Adil back to Blackpool station, and with no further instructions she had accepted.