The Summer of 66 by Dan Wheatcroft - HTML preview

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Chapter 13

He phoned in and they had nothing to tell him so he went home, parked the car and had a brief chat with the television hard man actor who told him of his up and coming appearances in Dixon of Dock Green and the Avengers.

Checking the cupboards failed to tickle his taste buds so he walked down to the local supermarket to see if they had anything that would entice him.

He hadn't been there long when she caught his eye. Naturally pretty, dark hair almost touching her shoulders, nice figure. He wasn't sure if she was wearing makeup or not. He liked subtlety and the confused look on her face as she perused the instructions on a pack of Vesta chow mein just made her more alluring.

He dawdled at the shelves. "That's one of my favourites, very simple to make. The crispy noodles might seem a bit difficult but any pan with a bit of hot oil will do. I'd open the windows though, might get a bit smoky if the oil's too hot." He smiled and she responded. "Thank you, I just fancy something easy but nice."

"Well, I'm an expert in easy but nice. Do you live around here? It's just I've a funny feeling I've seen you before."

"No, I've just been visiting my friend. She lives in the mews down the road. That's where you live isn't it?"

"Yes, not been there long. You're the girl with the green coat aren't you?"

"I do have others but yes, it's my favourite." Her eyes sparkled which only served to raise his interest even further.

"Well, err, I have to get on." He lifted his empty basket as evidence of the urgency. "Nice to speak to you, finally." Pointing at the packet she still held, he added, "I'd recommend that, I don't think you'll be disappointed."

He left her and, after wandering along several aisles, found himself at the checkout with a Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie and a tin of peas. She was behind him. He nodded. "Look, let me pay for that, the chow mein I mean. I feel some responsibility for the suggestion and if you didn't like it I wouldn't feel right, you wasting your money." She tried to protest but eventually gave in. He counted out the change and handed it over to the cashier.

As he left, he turned and said, "Maybe we'll see each other again, sometime?"

She smiled and replied, "Yes, that would be nice."

Back home, he placed his revolver, holster and speed loaders in his bedside cabinet, read the instructions on the pie tin and put the oven on. He briefly stood pushing the buttons to change the two channels on the TV and decided James Stewart in 'Carbine Williams' was the lesser of two evils but couldn't really concentrate on it.

He was thinking about the stolen number plates. They'd lost their targets for now and the only way forward would be to identify a probable next victim and wait it out or ... something bothered him. To get a set of number plates you'd need documentation or to know someone who'd make them no questions asked so that made the theft of them an easier choice but he wasn't so sure that lying on someone's street in a reasonably rural town where the neighbours might be a tadge nosier than the city was, in fact, the easiest option. It would be simple to say they'd been stolen and then use them or safer still use ones a remote colleague had and could report as stolen. It wasn't a foolproof lead but it was one worth pursuing. Besides, he wanted to know just how attractive this woman was.