Catalyst by Michael Knaggs Page B

granted.”
    â€œThere are some very good eating places in Cullen Field,” Seth said, “but people tend to stay in at night. We hadn’t had a night out on the estate for months until last week, had we Cathy? You had to be very careful before.”
    â€œBefore?” asked Irene. “You mean before the shootings?”
    â€œYes. Things seem quite different now,” said Cathy. “Well, they have been so far.” She held up her hands with fingers crossed. “Don’t want to tempt providence.”
    â€œYou mean it’s all changed in just a week?” asked George. “It was only three kids, wasn’t it? How can their not being around make that much difference?” He was thinking back to the last time the gang had descended on the village. There had been fifty or sixty of them then.
    â€œWell, the Bradys weren’t kids for a start,” said Seth, “and they were behind just about everything, apparently. I don’t think anyone realised that, especially the police. Then all the aggro just seemed to stop when they got killed. Everybody’s talking to everybody else, the atmosphere’s completely changed. It’s as if this guy is out there watching over us. It must sound weird to an outsider, but that’s the way it feels.”
    â€œAs I said – so far ,” added Cathy. “I suppose it might be just until the gangs get organised again. Even so, hopefully it won’t go back to being as bad as it was.”
    â€œWe’ve had problems with them in the village,” said Irene, “but not that often. Enough to keep you on your guard all the time, though; like you can’t relax completely, you’re always listening out just in case.”
    They’d reached the check-out and the conversation stopped as they loaded the bags and put them back in the trolley. Having paid and stepped out of the way, they waited for Cathy and Seth and walked back with them to the exit to the car park.
    â€œSo what are you planning to do now?” asked Cathy.
    â€œWell, normally we just head back home,” said George, “but I think we might drop in to Waterstones and have a browse. I guess we could have a coffee there as well.” He turned to Irene who nodded.
    â€œJust as long as we get back with the frozen stuff in time,” she said.
    They pushed through the doors and into the car park to unload the trolley.
    â€œActually, if you fancy a coffee and a look at some books,” said Seth, “at the far end of the precinct – the end opposite the Food Hall – there are a some tea rooms and cafes set out round a little village green along with a couple of craft shops and a little bookseller.”
    â€œRight, thank you,” said George, “we’ll definitely give that a try. I’m George, by the way, this is Irene.”
    â€œSeth and Cathy.”
    â€œLovely to meet you,” said Irene. “I really hope we’ll see you again.”
    They shook hands and said their goodbyes.
    â€œThis is nothing short of a revelation,” said George. “Come on, let’s do the village green thing and then get back. We‘ll have to come again soon to have a better look round when we’ve not got defrosting burgers to worry about. And I think we should mention it at the meeting tonight after the talk.”

    Jo Cottrell flicked through the pages of her notebook until she found the right place.
    â€œRight,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “After I left you, I called on the houses at either side of Number 12 – that’s 11 and 14, they’re numbered going round the close, but there’s no Number 13. Tenants of both of these houses had been spoken to before, but not specifically about Number 12. There was no-one in at Number 11, but the lady on the other side, a Mrs Maxine Johnston, said the house had been empty since she and her husband had moved in – that was