control”.
‘This is Angela Blackwood, reporting for the BBC news.’
The camera returned forgivingly to the studio where the anchorman raised
an eyebrow and muttered, ‘ That’s very disturbing. Of course, we’ll keep you
up-to-date with forthcoming news regarding that incident .’ Then he moved on
to another grim story of a murder of a Caucasian man who was brutally battered
to death last night by a gang of Turkish men. ‘ His family will be notified
in due course.’
Feeling nauseous, Rev Perkins used the remote and changed channels to an
episode of The Simpsons. All of a sudden he no longer felt famished. He
finished the rest of his beef roll with difficulty. Then he washed it down with
some Pepsi Max.
Once that was accomplished he made his way to his bedroom and started
packing some clothes and toiletries into a suitcase, glad for something to do
to take his mind off his graphic dreams/visions and the prophecy by someone in
the Vatican that John Hayes had passed on to him.
There really needed to be some good to counter all this bad, he thought
as he finished packing. He checked he had everything for his stay with his
pregnant sister, double-checked the doors and windows were locked prior to
stepping outside and locking the front door.
He had his mobile which also received emails so there was no need to lug
his laptop with him to Bristol. The drive itself usually took just over an
hour, although with traffic it might be closer to two hours by the time he
arrived outside Nadine’s home and prepared himself for the untimely funeral of
his brother-in-law.
The confines of the car seemed to suffocate his pain. For it was then
that it suddenly dawned on him with perfect clarification that Larry Moretz
would never see the birth of his only child.
In a fit of vexation, Rev Perkins struck the steering wheel three times,
inadvertently blasting the horn and hurting his wrist in doing so. He wept for
five minutes then ordered himself to cry no more while in the company of his
grieving sister.
Then he started the motor and began his journey…
7.
CENTRAL
LONDON
A WEEK had
passed since the birth of baby Elias Benullo. Frank was still at work and Sammy
was given maternity leave and wouldn’t be returning to work until next year. He
was delighted with the fact that he was now officially a father but found the
enormity somewhat daunting. He’d rationalised that this was perfectly normal
behaviour, and that all first time parents experienced the jitters.
He’d briefly read a web page regarding fatherhood. Yet what he decided
would be best was to do the household chores and make life as easy and as
comfortable as possible for his wife and child.
The good news for Frank was that his fraternity leave was starting after
work today and would last six weeks. This would make his job of making sure his
wife and son didn’t have to do anything arduous for some time.
Once he’d seen his last patient for the day, Frank shut down the
computer, slipped into his suit jacket, grabbed his briefcase and left his
office. Colleagues who were loitering around the reception desk congratulated
him again on becoming a father and wished him all the best now that he’d be
absent for six weeks. He offered a smile and thanked them then ambled down a
short hallway to the heavy glass-panelled door that led to the employees’ car
park.
On the way home as he was in high-spirits, Frank turned on the radio
hoping for an upbeat ballad. Instead his euphoria dissolved into concern.
‘ Breaking news! ’ the reporter exclaimed. ‘ Thirteen girls aged
between eight and ten in Newcastle have committed suicide in the local woods in
what appears to be some sort of suicide pact.
‘The thirteen suicides attended four different schools and yet were
all members of the choir of three separate churches in Tyne and Wear. Parents
claim that there couldn’t be any possible way all the girls knew each other as
there
‘This is Angela Blackwood, reporting for the BBC news.’
The camera returned forgivingly to the studio where the anchorman raised
an eyebrow and muttered, ‘ That’s very disturbing. Of course, we’ll keep you
up-to-date with forthcoming news regarding that incident .’ Then he moved on
to another grim story of a murder of a Caucasian man who was brutally battered
to death last night by a gang of Turkish men. ‘ His family will be notified
in due course.’
Feeling nauseous, Rev Perkins used the remote and changed channels to an
episode of The Simpsons. All of a sudden he no longer felt famished. He
finished the rest of his beef roll with difficulty. Then he washed it down with
some Pepsi Max.
Once that was accomplished he made his way to his bedroom and started
packing some clothes and toiletries into a suitcase, glad for something to do
to take his mind off his graphic dreams/visions and the prophecy by someone in
the Vatican that John Hayes had passed on to him.
There really needed to be some good to counter all this bad, he thought
as he finished packing. He checked he had everything for his stay with his
pregnant sister, double-checked the doors and windows were locked prior to
stepping outside and locking the front door.
He had his mobile which also received emails so there was no need to lug
his laptop with him to Bristol. The drive itself usually took just over an
hour, although with traffic it might be closer to two hours by the time he
arrived outside Nadine’s home and prepared himself for the untimely funeral of
his brother-in-law.
The confines of the car seemed to suffocate his pain. For it was then
that it suddenly dawned on him with perfect clarification that Larry Moretz
would never see the birth of his only child.
In a fit of vexation, Rev Perkins struck the steering wheel three times,
inadvertently blasting the horn and hurting his wrist in doing so. He wept for
five minutes then ordered himself to cry no more while in the company of his
grieving sister.
Then he started the motor and began his journey…
7.
CENTRAL
LONDON
A WEEK had
passed since the birth of baby Elias Benullo. Frank was still at work and Sammy
was given maternity leave and wouldn’t be returning to work until next year. He
was delighted with the fact that he was now officially a father but found the
enormity somewhat daunting. He’d rationalised that this was perfectly normal
behaviour, and that all first time parents experienced the jitters.
He’d briefly read a web page regarding fatherhood. Yet what he decided
would be best was to do the household chores and make life as easy and as
comfortable as possible for his wife and child.
The good news for Frank was that his fraternity leave was starting after
work today and would last six weeks. This would make his job of making sure his
wife and son didn’t have to do anything arduous for some time.
Once he’d seen his last patient for the day, Frank shut down the
computer, slipped into his suit jacket, grabbed his briefcase and left his
office. Colleagues who were loitering around the reception desk congratulated
him again on becoming a father and wished him all the best now that he’d be
absent for six weeks. He offered a smile and thanked them then ambled down a
short hallway to the heavy glass-panelled door that led to the employees’ car
park.
On the way home as he was in high-spirits, Frank turned on the radio
hoping for an upbeat ballad. Instead his euphoria dissolved into concern.
‘ Breaking news! ’ the reporter exclaimed. ‘ Thirteen girls aged
between eight and ten in Newcastle have committed suicide in the local woods in
what appears to be some sort of suicide pact.
‘The thirteen suicides attended four different schools and yet were
all members of the choir of three separate churches in Tyne and Wear. Parents
claim that there couldn’t be any possible way all the girls knew each other as
there
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