Back From Hampshire

As soon as it was clear that you Romany friends were not going to piss off, I confirmed with the residents that we would be dealing with the matter and would be back on Friday evening. All they had to do was give us access to their back gardens and leave the rest to us. I rang round the five blokes I had flagged up to work with me and arranged a briefing for Friday evening and confirmed we were on for the same night.

If we get some bad weather we should be able to get the job done in a few days.  I made arrangements for some goodies to sort out those fucking dogs.  Have you ever thought Pikeys have thousands of dogs but they have never won at crufts!
When I got in I could see some things were different.  The most obvious thing was that the photos of my wife and girls had been moved and were together on the bookcase and there was a vase of flowers  there.

What the fuck!  How dare she go moving things round.  Not just things,  but my girls.  I rarely get angry but when I do I can feel it rush through my veins like fire.  I could feel my my chest heaving with pure rage.  I am not nice when I am angry and I was fucking livid.
L came out of the kitchen and looked nervously at me.

“You’re cross”

“Well done Sherlock and why do you think that is?”

“I didn’t mean to make you cross, but every time I came here I looked at those photos and I always felt they should be together”

“Oh you did did you? How the fuck would you know?” I exploded

“Because when my little boy died he looked so alone and I used to cry when I looked at his photo. He was only little and I couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone.  Angela told me about your family, so every weekend when I stayed here, I put my boy with your girls so they would play with him and maybe your wife would look after him for me.  I just thought….. they would all be sort of together.  I am sorry, I was silly and I hurt your feelings I just thought they looked happier I will take them down”I looked at the photos and the arrangement of little flowers.  I felt my cheeks flush and the burning heat in my eyes and the pang of loss but most of all I felt shame.

Real deep shame.

I stood and looked at the floor with my hands by my side because I couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Where is he?” I managed to say
“In my room”

“Why don’t you go and  get him so they can all be together”

“You dont mind?”

“I am so sorry”

“I know”

She walked towards her room and she extended her finger just enough so she touched the back of my hand.

It. I felt it.

5 Responses to “Back From Hampshire”

  1. John Humphries says:

    fuck me you are as bad as that tart in paris you were going on about earlier. drip drip drip get a grip.

  2. dl says:

    Christ! What a whirlwind of emotions!

    The gypsy story is fascinating, but the other really churns you up.

    Really enjoying my visits to your site, UN.

  3. Oh Norman,

    I am tingling…tingling.
    Utterly beautiful…really.

    I will need a glass of wine now.

    I can’t wait to see how this all unfolds.
    It is deliciously, dangerously, diabolically charged.
    And you are a powderkeg.
    A smouldering powderkeg…

    Love it.

  4. Uncle says:

    John H. Thanks for your comment, it made me laugh as I can see what you mean. Thank fuck I don’t have kids or am fighting for the rights of underprivileged triad drugs dealers. I promise to try to do better. Mind you if you dont like you can always piss of somewhere else.

    I can recommend all the blogs I link to.

    DL – I must be honest I am really at six and sevens at the mo. Things like this have not happened to me for a long time.

    Delectable Minx – I am not sure about smouldering powder keg, dropped beer keg more like. I have real conflict going on, as my life has changed in the last week or so. I am trying so hard to keep a clear head.

  5. Clear head, yes…
    But also an open heart xx

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