Ahead of his Time Adrian Cousins (most recommended books TXT) 📖

He informed us that two rape cases had been reported in the last year. Both attacks took place at the end of the summer near the Broxworth Estate, but there were no recorded reports of arrests made and no further articles regarding the attacks. The two young ladies who’d reported the attacks were in their early twenties and lived in the Fairfield area.

I brought Martin up to speed regarding David Colney. I went with the official version of events and not the Don and my version. So, as far as George and Martin were concerned, it was a lucky event that David accidentally fell to his death. Martin was amazed David Colney was the serial killer who was terrorising the London and Home Counties areas back in 2019. He said, at the time, he wouldn’t let Caroline go anywhere on her own as she fitted the profile – in her thirties and blonde.

Now, soaking up the news that this same future serial killer had already sexually assaulted his mother and his grandfather had nearly lost his life because of it last year was a bit of a bombshell, to say the least. He could now fully comprehend why his mother had said nothing when she was raped for fear of her father’s reaction and his safety. Understandably, Martin was supercharged, gung-ho, and now ready to attack the Colney family. The pin in the Martin-shaped hand grenade was pulled and about to explode.

At this point, George came into his own, as he described the type of family he was up against and their connection to the Gowers. It didn’t really matter what decade you came from; if you lived in Fairfield, you knew what the name Gower meant. This had the required effect on calming Martin down.

The conclusion we all came to was a rapist was on the loose at this time, but that didn’t necessarily automatically signify it was one of the Colney twins. Also, as no other rapes had been reported since the summer, the rapist could be Patrick or Paul if we assumed that it was one of them for argument’s sake.

As for who raped Sarah Moore in 1987, it could still be any one of the three brothers, assuming Sarah had told the truth that the perpetrator was one of David’s brothers. We all agreed as far as Sarah’s safety was concerned; time was on our side. The next step was to ask John, my father-in-law, and without raising suspicion, if he could make some enquiries with his ex-colleagues regarding the rapes a few months ago.

Martin amused himself with the one-arm-bandit, which I could see he’d been itching to have a go on since we arrived in the pub. I took this opportunity to bring George up to speed with my conversation with Jenny and my meeting with Jess last Wednesday.

George was concerned that Jess had arrived on the scene, but we both knew it was likely to happen at some point. He felt I needed to come clean with Jenny sooner rather than later or ensure that Jess stayed away, as this was for sure not going to end well if I did nothing. I feared he was right.

After dragging Martin away from the fruit machine, which he was not happy about as he felt he was so close to winning the two-pound jackpot, I dropped him off then whizzed up to the Broxworth to see Jess on my way home.

I parked up near the community centre and traversed my way up to her flat. Returning here delivered a cold shudder as I thought I was rid of this place. Leaving the Stag in the middle of the estate also concerned me as it stood out like a sore thumb. Although not bright yellow like the Cortina, it was a car that turned heads, and the sort that lived on this estate didn’t just look.

A group of youths stood near the stairwell, smoking and kicking a brown leather football against the wall. They glanced up at me, but I didn’t look at them as the best policy in this place was to avoid eye contact. In the two months since my last visit, when I helped empty Don’s flat, I’d quickly forgotten how hideous the estate was.

After vaulting up the stairs onto the landing, I turned the corner and spotted Paul Colney coming out of Jess’s flat holding a package wrapped in brown paper. Fortunately, he was facing in the other direction and headed off to the stairs at the far end of the landing. Why had Paul Colney been in her flat? I stepped back a fraction and hovered at the end of the landing allowing Paul to disappear down the far stairwell. As soon as the coast was clear, I nipped along the grim passageway. I held my breath as it always stank of stale urine, and today was no different. With a quick glance at my old flat door, I tapped on the door of number 120.

No answer.

I tapped the obscured glass again, this time a little harder as I was concerned that if I stood there for too long, Paul Colney might come back up those stairs for some reason.

“Who is it?” came the call from inside.

Not wishing to bellow out my name and announce my presence to the whole estate, I bent down and poked in the letterbox flap. I could see legs in a pair of flared jeans which I presumed belonged to Jess. “Jess, it’s Jason … your father.” I could see the jeans-clad legs move quickly forward and the door opened before I’d even had a chance to stand.

Jess looked down at my crouched body and smiled, although that masked a sad face. It looked to me that she’d been crying.

“Hello, come in, Dad.”

I walked past Jess into the depressing flat. The last time I’d been in here was the day I first saw Beth after she was born, and today it looked pretty much the same. Although