The Taken Girls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller full of mystery and suspense. G Sanders D
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СКАЧАТЬ what her attackers wanted when there was a shout from across the street. It came from the corner of Electric Avenue.

      ‘Oi! That’s my girl Eddie.’ Like Superman without a phone box, Craig, all supple swagger and a voice that carried distance and authority, was by her side. The young muggers slipped rapidly away.

      ‘You al’right, Eddie?’

      ‘I’m okay.’

      ‘Ya goin back to y’yard? Want me to come with?’

      ‘I’ll be all right, thanks.’

      ‘I’ll put the word out. Pum pums will get rushed next time. Nobody’s gonna get facety.’

      ‘Thanks, Craig, see you Monday.’

      Walking home she’d wondered if Craig already had that power. Whatever, she was never bothered again. At home she mentioned the incident to her mother. By the following week her father had arranged self-defence classes. The emphasis was on surprise and effectiveness rather than orthodoxy. Ed was a natural. She never missed a meeting and soon few students fancied pairing up with her for a contact session.

      At school, Craig often sought Ed’s advice about assignments but the incident at Morley’s was never mentioned. She knew he worked hard but he seldom performed as well as she thought he could. It was as if Craig was content to know his own strengths but unwilling to reveal them to others. Perhaps he felt this gave him an edge. The teachers regarded him as no more than average but among the students he had a position of authority which was never challenged. Ed wondered if his status had been won on the streets of Brixton because at school she’d never heard him threaten anyone, never seen an act of aggression.

      Craig left school at the end of Year 11 and Ed returned to the Lower Sixth, assuming she’d never see him again – but she was wrong. Leaving the school gates a couple of weeks or so into the new term, she saw a group of students standing round a parked car. As she turned to walk home, a voice she knew well called her name.

      ‘Eddie! Why you in such a hurry? I’ve got my car. Come, I’ll give you a lift.’

      Craig had left the group and was walking towards her. When he caught her eye, he half spun, making a show of pointing to his car.

      ‘It’s dope, ain’t it? Wanna come for a drive?’

      It was all so unexpected, so unlikely, Ed was intrigued. Without a moment’s thought she said, ‘Okay.’ For weeks he was always there. Their roles reversed, he became the tutor and she surrendered enthusiastically to new experiences and new sensations. Ed was determined not to let her schoolwork suffer but she spent all her free time with Craig. He was happy to drive her around Brixton but when intent on parking somewhere discreet, he would drive further afield to quiet spots near the south London commons. If they wanted to see a film, Craig took her to the West End. They never went to clubs and never joined groups of friends.

      All this changed when Ed discovered she was pregnant. Craig disappeared. Sometimes when they were together he’d get a message and, apologizing, say he had to go. Until the last time when she never saw him again. At home, her parents struggled to hide their disappointment and Ed felt she’d been left to face the future alone.

      From the outside, the Ogbornes appeared to be the close-knit family they’d always been but, for Ed, the warmth she’d felt all her life had diminished. With her grandfather, things were different. They never spoke of Ed’s condition, or the decision she faced, and it was clear his love for ‘little Edina’ had never faltered. At first, she was uncertain what to do, then, in an instant, her mind was made up: she would not have a termination. The decision had arrived fully formed for reasons which were unarticulated and which Ed didn’t explore.

      As her pregnancy progressed, Ed had worried about the consequences of raising the child as a single mother. Despite her anger at Craig’s abandonment, she’d wanted the best for their baby, her baby. After her son arrived she’d decided early to offer him for adoption and signed the papers six weeks after he was born.

      Now, ten years later, Ed had long since ceased to contemplate the ways her life would have been different had she not opted for adoption. However, she’d never broken free from a nagging guilt: had she acted in her son’s best interests or her own?

       14

      Nat dropped Ed outside her hotel. During the short ride she formed the impression that her companions were silent because they had no wish to prolong the evening, at least not with her. Before Nat drove away Jenny moved to the front and Ed assumed her hunch was correct. She went straight to her room, checked her email and found the estate agent had confirmed all three of her viewings for Sunday. As she closed her laptop, one of the mobiles beside her bed began to vibrate. It could only be Don.

      ‘Hi, Eddie. Where are you?’

      ‘The County.’

      ‘Kent?’

      ‘A hotel in Canterbury.’

      There was a pause. When he next spoke the note of irritation in his voice was more pronounced.

      ‘I called three times this evening. Why didn’t you pick up?’

      ‘I was out, didn’t have the mobile.’

      ‘Out …?’

      ‘With the team. Checking out lowlife.’

      ‘I thought you didn’t start ’til Monday.’

      ‘Suspected abduction last night. The Super introduced me to the CID team at 08.15 this morning. Everybody behaved as if I’d already started. No open arms so I didn’t rock the boat.’

      ‘Yeah … best to play it by the book.’

      ‘I thought so …’

      ‘Where are you now? In your room?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘In bed?’

      ‘No.’

      At this moment, with Don on the other end of the line, bed was the last place she wanted to be. For Don it was different. When he called he only wanted one thing: telephone sex. That had been his aim from the very beginning, with the added frisson that they’d actually slept together. Impetuously, Ed had gone along with his suggestion, equally excited by their hands-off/hand-on encounters, but, on arriving in Canterbury, she’d drawn the line. Ed stayed where she was, at the desk with her laptop.

      ‘Eddie … it’s Don.’

      The irritation had returned, tinged with surprise.

      ‘Yes …’

      Of course it was Don. She was holding the cheap pay-as-you-go phone he’d given her in Manchester. Nobody else had the number.

      ‘Weren’t you expecting my call?’

      ‘Yes … No … I don’t know.’

      ‘What d’you mean, you СКАЧАТЬ