Trio - [23]
They bought fish and chips from the corner and ate as they walked.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Club I know.’
Joan groaned. ‘Another dive?’
‘No, you’ll like it. Come on, live dangerously.’
She followed Lena down a side street. A wooden sign proclaimed the Zebra Club. They went down steep basement steps to a plain door. Inside there was a large room crammed with dancers. About half of them were coloured. There had been places in Manchester where the West Indians went, but Joan would never have dreamed of going there. This seemed more mixed. On a small stage a trio were playing. At the tiny bar Lena bought drinks. Joan was aware of some of the men looking their way. Well, she thought, if Lena found a friend she should have just enough for a taxi home, if she was careful.
After the first drink Joan found herself relaxing. The music was good, quite varied too. They played some jazz and calypso-type songs with a strong beat. Lena insisted on dancing and got Joan up too. Some of the movements the black couples were doing were quite astonishing but no one seemed to mind and the atmosphere was fun. When Lena caught her yawning she dragged her to the ladies’.
‘Here.’ She took a couple of yellow capsules from her pocket.
Joan shook her head.
‘Stop you being tired.’ Lena put one in her mouth and bent to drink from the tap. ‘They’re great, really. Make you feel like you’re full of champagne.’
Joan smiled.
‘Try one.’
She might as well. Everyone else liked them. And it would be nice to have a bit more energy.
She took the pill and drank from the tap.
Hours later, almost four in the morning and in paroxysms of giggles the two wove their way, arm in arm, to Lena’s flat.
It too was downstairs, a damp basement with a powerful smell of mildew and fungus on the ceilings. There was a main room with a tiny kitchen area in one corner behind a curtain. The toilet and washbasin were outside, in a small yard crammed with broken furniture. In the room Lena had a single bed, a small wooden table and two stools, an armchair that had seen better days and a wardrobe with a broken door. She had brightened the place up by putting multicolored crocheted blankets over the chair and bed. Posters adorned the walls: Adam Faith and Elvis.
Joan was still tittering and then she couldn’t remember why they’d been laughing and that seemed even funnier. She collapsed on the bed, kicking off her shoes. Lena was singing as she switched on a lamp and the electric fire. She put a stack of records on the dansette in the corner. The strains of ‘Apache’ by The Shadows filled the room.
Joan felt the bed bounce as Lena sat beside her. She felt a hand brush her fringe aside. Opened her eyes. Lena smiling, warm lips, her hair falling forward. Bending down. Lips against hers, touching her own, the faint stickiness of lipstick. Joan’s giggles quietened. Her thoughts were scrambling, trying to run without legs. No, wrong, wicked. Mustn’t. But she didn't move.
Lena sat up. Joan’s lips were empty. A look passed between them. Lena’s eyes like silver, swimming like mercury. Joan could smell smoke on her, and perfume. She should get up, move, break the spell, claim the armchair. Soon. She parted her lips, took a breath. Lena stopped smiling. She bent down, kissed Joan, the tip of her tongue tracing the inside edge of her lips. Joan closed her eyes, felt Lena’s hand brush down her shoulder and over her breast, the lightest pressure that filled Joan’s veins with warmth and sent small shocks of pleasure to her sex.
Joan moaned, moved her head a fraction, changing the pressure of the kiss. Wanting more. Everything. It was wicked but she didn’t want to stop. The thought of the wickedness gave her an additional thrill and she felt her body stiffening and getting hotter.
But she musn’t… if… with a jolt of understanding she realised that however wicked it was Lena could never make her pregnant and a great feeling of recklessness and liberation made her moan and wriggle. She reached up with one arm, tangling her fingers in Lena’s thick, smooth hair. Ran her other hand down her back, round the curve of her hip and along her thigh.
Lena made a gurgling noise and then parted from her. Her mouth was dark, the lipstick smeared and her lips swollen. Joan swallowed. Lena smiled, a small, intent smile, and began to unbutton her dress. Joan lay and watched her, her heart beating fast and anticipation tingling along the length of her spine.
Megan Marjorie
Nina
Marjorie
‘Speaking. Hello, Sister.’
Robert Underwood noted the excitement in his wife’s voice and she waved him over with one hand.
‘Yes?’ Her hazel eyes crinkled with a smile. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, fiddling with it, and then with the coiled phone wire. ‘Oh, lovely. How old? Yes. When can we… Eleven. Thank you. Yes, he’s fine. We’ll bring him with us.’
She replaced the receiver. ‘They’ve got a little girl. Four weeks old. We could have her in the next couple of weeks.’ She grinned and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Oh, Robert!’
He hugged her briefly. ‘You’re sure now?’
"A painfully honest exploration of an ordinary family under stress… A stunning piece of work." – Ann CleevesFour bystanders in the wrong place at the wrong time. Witnesses to the shocking shooting of a teenage boy. A moment that changes their lives forever. Fiona, a midwife, is plagued by panic attacks and unable to work. Has she the strength to testify? Mike, a delivery driver and family man, faces an impossible decision when his frightened wife forces him to choose – us or the court case. Cheryl, a single-mother, doesn't want her child to grow up in the same climate of fear.
Single mother and private eye, Sal Kilkenny, has two very frightened clients on her hands. One, young mother Debbie Gosforth, is a victim; the other, Luke Wallace, is afraid he is a murderer. While Sal tries to protect Debbie from a stalker, she has to investigate the murder of Luke's best friend.
Your husband, your family, your freedom. What would you sacrifice for love? A love story, a modern nightmare and an honest and incisive portrayal of a woman who honours her husband's wish to die and finds herself in the dock for murder.When Deborah reluctantly helps her beloved husband Neil end his life and conceals the truth, she is charged with murder. As the trial unfolds and her daughter Sophie testifies against her, Deborah, still reeling with grief, fights to defend her actions. Twelve jurors hold her fate in their hands, if found guilty she will serve a life sentence.
From the author of LOOKING FOR TROUBLE, a further crime novel featuring private investigator Sal Kilkenny. When a man is distraught at his wife's apparent infidelity, he enlists the help of Sal to confirm his suspicions, only to find himself a widower soon afterwards. From there Sal's other case also begins to take a disturbing and violent turn.
When private eye Sal Kilkenny is asked to discover the whereabouts of Jennifer Pickering, disinherited by her family twenty years ago, it seems that Jennifer does not want to be found. Despite her initial reservations, as the events of the past gradually unfold, single-mum Sal finds that she is becoming engrossed in the case. There are dark secrets waiting to be uncovered but can Sal break the conspiracy of silence that surrounds this mystery? As she spends her days tracing Jennifer, Sal's nights become shattered by an emotional and often dangerous assignment with the Neighbour Nuisance Unit on one of Manchester's toughest housing estates.
The fourth Blue Murder novel written by the creator of the hit ITV police drama starring Caroline Quentin as DCI Janine Lewis.A well-respected family GP is found shot dead outside his surgery; who could possibly want to kill him? As DCI Janine Lewis and her team investigate they uncover stories of loyalty, love, deception, betrayal and revenge.Praise for the Blue Murder books'Complex and satisfying in its handling of Lewis's agonised attempts to be both a good cop and a good mother.' The Sunday Times'Uncluttered and finely detailed prose.' Birmingham Post'Beautifully realised little snapshots of the different characters' lives… Compelling stuff.' Sherlock Magazine'A swift, satisfying read.' City Life'Precise and detailed delineation of contemporary family relationships.' Tangled Web'Lewis seems set to become another very popular string to Staincliffe's bow as one of the leading English murder writers.' Manchester Metro'Pace and plenty of human interest.' Publishing News'Blending the warmth of family life with the demands of a police investigation.'Manchester Evening News'Juggling work and family is a challenge of modern life and encountering realistically portrayed women with family responsibilities is a pleasure.
В самом начале нового века, а может быть и в конце старого (на самом деле все подряд путались в сроках наступления миллениума), Катя Малышева получила от бывшего компаньона Валентина поручение, точнее он попросил оказать ему платную любезность, а именно познакомиться с заслуженной старой дамой, на которую никто в агентстве «Аргус» не мог угодить. Катя без особой охоты взялась за дело, однако очень скоро оно стало усложняться. Водоворот событий увлек Катю за собой, а Валентину пришлось её искать в печальных сомнениях жива она или уже нет…
Наталия Новохатская Предлагает серию развернутых описаний, сначала советской (немного), затем дальнейшей российской жизни за последние 20 с лишком лет, с заметным уклоном в криминально-приключенческую сторону. Главная героиня, она же основной рассказчик — детектив-самоучка, некая Катя Малышева. Серия предназначена для более или менее просвещенной аудитории со здоровой психикой и почти не содержит описаний кровавых убийств или прочих резких отклонений от здорового образа жизни. В читателе предполагается чувство юмора, хотя бы в малой степени, допускающей, что можно смеяться над собой.
Смерть – какая она? Страшная? Или наоборот – освободительная? Кто решает кому жить, а кому нет? Журналист Максим Котов недавно пережил самую страшную потерю. Неизвестный вирус унёс жизнь его ребёнка. «Так бывает…» – сказали врачи. Но Максим уверен, что смерть его дочери – не случайность, а часть большого заговора. И в этом заговоре его ребенку была отведена роль пешки, которой с легкостью пожертвовали ради достижения «большой цели». Котов решает найти виновного и отомстить. Но чем больше он углубляется в расследование, тем запутаннее становится история.
Эта история начинается с ограбления с трагическим финалом: немолодой хозяин загородного дома погибает от рук неизвестных преступников. Однако в этой истории оказывается не так все просто, и сам погибший несет ответственность за то, что с ним произошло. Рассказ «Вода из колодца» седьмой в ряду цикла «Дыхание мегаполиса». Главным героем этого цикла является следователь Дмитрий Владимиров, который на этот раз должен разобраться в хитросплетениях одной запутанной семейной драмы.
