The Pearl Locket: A page-turning saga that will have you hooked - Kathleen McGurl

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his last bit of fun, would you? Not when he’s putting his life on the line for you?’ He kissed her again, his mouth hard against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

      ‘Stop it! I shall scream!’

      ‘Aw, no you won’t. Just relax; enjoy it,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

      But he was hurting her. He was lying on top of her, his elbow digging into her ribs and his stubble scratching her cheeks as he continued to kiss her.

      ‘Get off her, you thug! Get off! Off!’ It was the boy with the broken glasses, his hair flopping over his eyes as he burst through the door, hauled Freddie off her, and landed a punch on his nose.

      ‘Ow, you little shit. What did you do that for? Me and my girl were just getting comfortable.’ Freddie clutched at his bleeding nose and spat on the floor.

      ‘She didn’t look very comfortable to me. Get out, and leave her alone.’

      ‘Oh yeah? Who’s going to make me?’

      ‘I am. Now get out before I hit you again!’ The boy squared up to Freddie. He was a little taller, but not as well built. Nevertheless there must have been something in his eyes that made Freddie think the better of taking him on, for he spat again and took a step towards the door.

      ‘She’s nothing but a tease. Maybe you’ll get more out of her, mate,’ he said, as he slammed the door behind him.

      ‘Are you all right?’ said the boy, extending a hand to pull Joan up from the sofa.

      She nodded, stood and straightened her clothing. ‘Thank you. I shouldn’t have come with him.’

      ‘I saw him pull you out of the dance hall and thought you might be in trouble. Are you sure you’re all right? Can I get your friend for you?’

      Mags. How would she tell her how stupid she’d been? She wouldn’t. Not unless she had to. If Mags hadn’t seen her leave with Freddie maybe she could get away with not saying anything.

      ‘She’s my sister. But it’s all right. You’ve been very kind. I’ll freshen up now and then go back to the dance hall. I hope that airman has gone home.’

      The boy nodded. ‘I hope so, too. But I’ll keep an eye out, just in case.’ He held the door open for her and followed her back along the corridor towards the cloakrooms. Joan ducked into the ladies room, and when she came out, he was no longer around. She felt a pang of guilt—he’d rescued her but she hadn’t even asked him his name.

       Chapter Three

      August 2014

      The day after moving day, a Saturday, dawned fresh and clear, cool for the time of year but sunny, with the promise of warmth later on once the sun was higher. Thank goodness for that, thought Ali. They could get on with sorting out the house, emptying boxes and filling cupboards. Though if it got too hot she knew she would just want to take a picnic rug and a book down to the beach for the afternoon. Well, maybe if they made good progress she could do that—start as she meant to go on, now that she lived so close to the sea. Might as well make the most of it while they lived here, however long that would be.

      She was busy in the kitchen, unpacking endless boxes of kitchen utensils and deciding which of the many shiny new cupboards they should go in. Pete certainly hadn’t skimped on cupboard space when refitting it. He’d done a great job. Now, he was trying to get the TV and hard-disk recorder to work and the kids were upstairs organising their respective rooms. The radio was on, playing cheerful Saturday morning music, the sun was shining in through the window and, all in all, life was pretty good.

      Kelly came downstairs. ‘Hi, Mum. My room’s sorted, as much as I can do right now. Did you know the wallpaper’s peeling off, behind that god-awful blue sink in the corner? There’s a bit of a smell of damp in there as well.’

      ‘The house was tested for damp, Kelly, when we had the survey done. There’s no damp in your room.’ Pete had come into the kitchen and heard her comments. He pushed his way past piles of boxes and grabbed the kettle. ‘I need more tea. Anyone else?’

      ‘Yes, please,’ Ali said.

      ‘Even if it’s not damp, will you do my room soon, please?’ said Kelly. ‘I want something really cool and classy. I had to put up with that Barbie wallpaper in the old house for far too long.’

      ‘Ha, well you chose it,’ laughed Ali.

      ‘Yeah, when I was, like, six. I grew up, Mum, or hadn’t you noticed?’ Kelly gave her a playful thump on the arm. She was right, Ali thought, she had grown up. So quickly. At seventeen she was almost a woman. What had happened to their little girl?

      ‘As soon as Matt gets here is it cool if we go out for a bit?’

      ‘Yes, it’s, er, cool. It’ll do you good. Go down to the beach or something. Make the most of the day.’ Ali gave her daughter a quick hug. She was glad they had a good relationship. Many of Kelly’s friends seemed to barely ever speak to their parents.

      The doorbell rang. Ali glanced at her watch. It was too early for Matt to arrive, surely? Kelly went to answer it.

      ‘Hi, are your parents in?’ Ali heard a male voice in the hallway. Not Matt. She brushed cardboard-dust off her T-shirt and went out to see who it was. Standing on the doorstep was a man in his forties, tanned, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of loose denim shorts. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Sorry to interrupt your unpacking. I’m Jason Bergmann, your new neighbour from number seven.’ He held out his hand.

      Ali shook it. ‘Lovely to meet you, Jason. I’m Ali Bradshaw; this is my daughter, Kelly. Do come in. It’s a mess but we can offer you a cup of tea or coffee.’ She stood aside to let him pass.

      ‘I was just calling to welcome you to the street. And if you’re free this evening, come round about eight for a glass of wine in my garden? You’ll be sick of unpacking by then, I’d say.’

      He had a nice smile. Ali warmed to him instantly. ‘Thanks, that would be lovely.’

      ‘What would be lovely?’ said Pete, coming out of the kitchen with his mug of tea. ‘Oh, hello.’ He shook Jason’s hand.

      ‘Jason Bergmann. From next door. Bottle of wine round at mine this evening? To celebrate your move.’

      ‘Sounds good to me,’ Pete said. ‘I’m Pete. We also have a son, Ryan, around somewhere. He’s thirteen.’

      ‘Kelly and Ryan are most welcome, too. I’ll leave you to your unpacking, and see you later, then.’

      ‘Seems like a nice chap,’ Pete said, after Ali had closed the door. ‘It’ll be good to get to know a neighbour so quickly.’

      Kelly went back upstairs. The new neighbour seemed nice, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go round to his drinks party this evening. Sounded a bit dull. She was barely in her bedroom when the doorbell rang again. This time it must be Matt! She raced down the stairs, almost tripping on a loose corner of carpet on the half landing, and got to the door just as her mother was opening it. It was Matt. She launched herself into his arms before he was even over the threshold.

      ‘Steady on! What a welcome. Hi, Ali. Settling in OK?’

      ‘Hi, Matt. Yes, thanks. Lots of unpacking to do, but we’ll get there. Tea?’

      ‘No, Mum. We’ll be going out in a few minutes,’ Kelly said.

      ‘Er, no thanks then, Ali. Kells, can I at least have a tour before we go out? I can’t wait to see the house. It’s huge!’

      ‘OK, a quick one, though. I’m desperate to get down to the beach.’ Kelly took him by the hand and dragged him on a whistle-stop tour of the downstairs. ‘Living room. Dining room, though I think it’s going to be more of a library cum playroom

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