Read Online The Shade of Hettie Daynes by Robert Swindells - Free Book Online Page B

Carl sat up, one hand pressed to his cheek. The men stepped back. Councillor Hopwood bent, gripped his son’s elbow and pulled him to his feet. The boy looked groggy but his father ushered him away at once, through the circle of spectators, heading for the Rover.
    ‘What a brute,’ gasped Christa. ‘He’s lucky everybody was busy watching the sky. I expect he’ll claim the boy fainted or something.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘Pity that photographer wasn’t here.’
    What’s he called, Aly?’
    ‘Bill.’
    ‘That’s the one. Shame Bill wasn’t here with his camera.’ He smiled tightly. ‘Likes his picture in the
Echo
, our Councillor, but I bet he wouldn’t want an action shot of himself damn near knocking his son’s head off.’
    ‘Front page,’ grinned Rob. ‘
Councillor Reginald Hopwood enjoys an intimate moment with his son during Wilton’s annual bonfire celebration. Minutes after this picture was taken, Carl was rushed to Rawton General Hospital where his head was sewn back on
.’
    ‘Idiot,’ growled Harry.
    ‘Not something to joke about really, boys,’ murmured Christa. ‘Makes you wonder what goes on behind the curtains up at Hopwood House.’
    ‘
Hopwood’s House of Horrors
,’ intoned the incorrigible Rob. ‘
Featuring Raving Reginald, Rawton’s Rotten Ratbag
.’

FORTY-TWO
    FELICITY HOPWOOD WAS at the window when the Rover pulled up in front of the garage. She’d been watching the rockets and Roman candles over the village rooftops. Felicity enjoyed fireworks, but never accompanied her husband anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary.
    Reginald had stopped the car to let Carl out. As soon as she saw her son, Felicity knew something had happened. Carl didn’t look like a boy coming home from an exciting event. There was something hangdog about the way he waited for his father to put the car away. It was a look his mother had seen many times before. As the pair approached the house, Felicity stepped back and let the curtain fall.
    Carl entered the room first. Felicity greeted him with the bright smile she wore when she didn’t feel like smiling. ‘Hello, Carl – nice time?’ The bruised cheek and swollen ear made his face look lopsided.
    He shook his head and mumbled, ‘Does it
look
like I had a nice time? I saw this woman. She was a ghost but Dad says—’
    Reginald loomed scowling in the doorway. ‘Dad says get yourself off to bed,
now
.’ Carl shot his mother a scornful look, then turned and slunk out. As he passed his father, Reginald raised a hand as if to hit him. The boy flinched, and Reginald laughed contemptuously. Felicity looked at her husband with loathing.
    ‘You hit him. A little boy. I don’t know how you can live with yourself.’
    Reginald laughed again. ‘Certainly I hit him. He deserved it, showing me up in front of my friends.’
    ‘You show
yourself
up,’ murmured his wife, ‘and you don’t deserve to
have
friends.’ She was trembling. ‘D’you know what
I
wonder, Reginald? I wonder how you’d fare if you were ever foolish enough to strike somebody your own size.’
    ‘Ha!’ Her husband glared. ‘There
is
nobody my size,’ he snarled. ‘Not in Wilton, nor in Rawton. You married the cock of the heap, Felicity – not that you appreciate it or anything like that. Where’s my supper?’
    Felicity locked eyes with him. ‘Your supper’s wherever you find it, you contemptible bully. I hope it chokes you.’

FORTY-THREE
    ‘WHOA!’ CRIED CHRISTA , as she followed Harry and Bethan into the porch. ‘Don’t you
dare
track those trainers across my kitchen floor.’ She gave them a suspicious look. ‘How’ve they got into that state anyway – there was hardly any mud on the Green.’
    Harry pulled a face. ‘We . . . called at the res on our way, Mum. My idea, sorry.’
    His mother sighed. ‘If you were sorry, Harry, you wouldn’t have done it. Your father was forever saying he was sorry, but it didn’t stop him doing the same