Hot Blood (Bloodwords Book 1) (4 page)

‘So what you are saying is that although Joan’s
Dad gifted his money to her because he was so grateful for how she had looked
after it over many years, her sodding brother can use a legal loophole, not
only to snatch it away but to take our land and our house as well. This country
makes me sick. I bet if we’d been Eastern Europeans we would have been
protected and he wouldn’t have stood a chance.’

‘No, I am not saying that. But if what you say
is correct he holds all the aces and has very little to lose. If his business
is under threat and he believes that he has been short changed by you two, he
will likely use every tool at his disposal. You need to get around the table
and talk it through. This latest escapade and fisticuffs doesn’t help either.
Don’t let it get to court because if it does you have more to lose than he does
- come to some sort of settlement.’

‘Mike was attacked. I don’t like the fact that
my brother attacked my husband but surely that adds weight to our case.’

The woman’s confidence surprised Preston. ‘Not
necessarily’ he replied. ‘Without either a witness or an admission of guilt
it’s your word against theirs. It doesn’t take much to twist that around to
suggest that if somebody bore such a huge grudge against your husband then
there must have been a reason. So if you take that argument a bit further,
perhaps Mike was also the bad boy in the family feud as well.’

Mike was incensed. ‘It was him. There’s no
doubt.’

‘So you say, but your brother-in-law was seen
elsewhere at the time you were attacked. We are walking on eggshells here and
simply cannot go making accusations unless we have hard proof. We would be
laughed out of court and it would cost you dearly. Believe me, you need to talk
and settle.’ Resting his elbows on the desk and tenting his fingers, Preston
gave them a quizzical look. Bending his head to rest his chin on his thumbs, he
squinted at them over his glasses with what he hoped would be translated as
‘you are in the shit, now be a good girl and boy and let me get you out of it.’
He could see that with a little bit of luck their feud might develop into a
good little earner for his practice – and he would do everything in his
power to make it so.

The atmosphere remained fractious. Looking down
at his toes as he flexed them up and down, Mike grimaced with the effort and
pain. Though having taken a severe beating, most external cues had gone. Nasty
swollen bruises had lost their purple hue but inside he was raw and far from
being as good as new. The healing capabilities of the human body were indeed
marvellous, but a month on and although outwardly he looked almost back to
normal, inside he was hurting. Not just physically, but mentally. Joan knew his
hurt. Shared it even. After all, wasn’t this her own brother they were talking
about?

How could his brother-in-law have carried out
such a brutal attack? There had never been much love lost between them but
surely, family feuds didn’t go to the extent of such violence? The police had
not been able to establish any connection. Dear brother-in-law had been seen
elsewhere. Well the little shit wasn’t elsewhere. Just the one word had given
the game away. Shit. Only four letters but even that was enough when you knew
the voice that uttered them. There was no doubt about it. He was the only
person that hated his guts so much. The little shit that had caused him so much
trouble, almost killed his business – and now almost killed him. It was
his voice and no matter what the police said, it was him. And that hurt as
well.

Preston leaned back in his chair, folding his
arms and waited for a response. Sitting there in front of the solicitor’s huge
desk, the man looked forlorn and downtrodden. Who would have thought that this
was the local celebrity whose picture had regularly graced the pages of the
Visiter
, Champion or Gazette, adored by his faithful
following, the prince of local art?

Like a little boy that had just protested his
innocence and needed to bolster his claim, coming out of his reverie the man
looked
whistfully
at Preston, ‘Like I said, I
recognised his voice.’

‘Come on Mike, you had just received a beating.
The mind plays tricks. Perhaps you wanted it to have been him. But the reality
is that it wasn’t.’

Painfully, Mike sat more upright in his chair.
Some of the old spark was there as he responded to the solicitor. ‘Don’t humour
me David. I need a lawyer that gives of his best because he believes me, not
somebody that plays a round of golf with me, takes my money and does nothing.’
Most of the colour had drained from Mike’s face, making the remaining bruises
prominent again. The man might be a good golf partner but this was getting
serious. ‘Whatever the police say, whatever your theory of why he is trying to
steal our land, our house and Joan’s money, I definitely recognised the little
shit’s voice. He’s the one that worked me over. And he has split my family just
so that he can get his hands on the house I have poured my life savings into.’

‘A lawyer doesn’t have to believe his client
but in this case I do. I do believe that you think you heard your
brother-in-law, but whether it actually was him is something else entirely.
Personally I don’t know but the police think not. For my part I will do my best
for you, that’s my job. I can have a few enquiries made if you want, to see if
we can turn something up. I can ask a colleague to go over the bits we do know
and then follow up whatever he can find. It will cost and I’m not promising.
It’s your call.’

‘Do it. Joan’s lost her family over this
whatever we do, so if you can prove who worked me over then you can take him to
the cleaners with whatever you turn up. I don’t care anymore. But I’m not
giving up. If you can’t do it I’ll personally kill the little shit.’

……….

With rich rosewood tables and comfortable
chairs complemented by just the right level of lighting for relaxed dining, the
Lockside
Dining Rooms were comfortable yet not overly
ostentatious. Simon Charlton followed his guide outside to where more tables
arranged for al fresco dining enjoyed a fine view over colourful canal boats
moored in the marina.

‘This is the jewel in our crown. The Dining
Rooms operate as a café through the day and as a restaurant with a gentle piano
playing in the background on weekday evenings. At weekends we have live
entertainment, and out here on the canal side you can have anything from a
coffee to a roast dinner anytime you want.’

‘Very nice too’ replied Charlton,’ I like the
feel of the whole place, but when will the plots be ready for caravans? And
what made you think of a caravan park anyway, where’s the connection with
boats.’

‘Boats need a water mooring and vans need a
plot on which to park, but aside from that there’s not much between them.
Actually, there’s quite a synergy. Most boat owners and
caravaners
enjoy the outdoors during the daytime then enjoy a good meal or some
entertainment in the evening. We’ve plenty of land on the north side of the
marina so all we had to do was extend the access road and put in some electric
hookups
. The ablutions block and other facilities already
existed for the boat people. Actually, the first van is already on-site and
three more will come on within the week.’

‘Sounds good to me. My van is a 32 footer but
it is a couple of years old now, will that be a problem?’ asked Charlton, to
which he was told that he could site it for eight years before renewal. Taking
a brochure and application forms with him, he bade farewell.

……….

‘We’ve a nice relaxed atmosphere here Mr
Charlton. It’s nice and friendly, the owners all get on well with each other.
It’s more like a family home away from home really. Put your van on a plot here
and you won’t be disappointed.’

Hmm. Something didn’t gel. Green Fields Caravan
Park was about as different as could be imagined to what he had seen at
Lockside
. Driving the three miles from the marina and turning
into the Green Fields car parking area, Simon Charlton hadn’t been impressed.
Its surface was rutted and uneven – probably a muddy quagmire in bad
weather – and a feeling of desolation pervaded. The reception building he
was now standing in had looked as though a new coat of paint and some
maintenance due ten years ago still had not materialised and it was no better
inside. No doubt the site had been different when it was first created, when
the log cabin reception was new and the car park newly levelled, but the words
springing to mind now were very tired.

‘So what facilities are there and what are your
terms?’ Given the dilapidation, Charlton at least hoped for lower rates than at
the marina.

‘You’ll find our charges are very competitive
Mr Charlton. And we don’t make you buy a new caravan when it is ten years old
either. As long as you keep it looking OK of course. We have a toilet block
just next to this building and a self-serve launderette on the other side.
You’ll like it here I am sure.’

Well that was open to conjecture. On his quick
sortie before entering the reception, Charlton had thought the adjacent toilet
block to be in no better repair than the cabin, and half the machines in the
launderette looked to be broken anyway.

‘So, is there a club on-site, a café or a
restaurant?’

‘Not at present, but there soon will be.’

Charlton couldn’t mask his amazement. The
general run-down appearance of the whole site didn’t suggest the likelihood of
any new facilities in the foreseeable future.

I can see that you are surprised Mr Charlton,
but we have a big development coming. We are adding thirty new caravan plots
near the trees and the area between them and our existing plots will become a
nice recreation area with an open-air swimming pool. We are also creating a top
class restaurant in a lovely character stone building and all the existing
facilities here, like the launderette and reception, are being completely
overhauled.’

‘And when will all this happen?’ asked
Charlton.

‘We are a little delayed at the moment because
of a minor legal hitch, but we hope to have the restaurant up and running no
later than six months from now. A couple of vans will be moving off next week
so you could use one of their plots for now until the new plots are ready, then
you can take your pick.’

‘That all sounds great as long as the timescale
doesn’t drag on. I’ve been up to the marina site and they already have an
excellent restaurant, but Green Fields is a bit more secluded and I like the
idea of a pool. I wouldn’t want to bring my van and then find that the
development didn’t go ahead though. I wouldn’t want to be stuck on a tired old
site would I? I would rather take a plot at the marina than that.’

‘Don’t worry Mr Charlton. The delay is only
temporary. The land is already in family ownership and the restaurant will be
quick to convert. The hold up is with a legal issue impacting on funding but
we’ve moved forward on that recently and it should all be done and dusted soon.
Then it will be action stations.’

The development sounded impressive. Perhaps 24
hours to compare the brochures and then make a decision. ‘Ah, well that’s a bit
of a problem I am afraid. For legal reasons we cannot print a brochure or
information sheets yet but in a couple of weeks they will be out. Why not come
with me and I’ll walk you around the site and fill you in on what’s going
where?’

……….

Up in his first floor study room – once
the spare bedroom – a Google Maps satellite image was displayed on a big
plasma screen. ‘It all makes sense Dave,’ he said, pointing to what looked like
little boxes arranged higgledy
piggledy
, some fields
running alongside, then the roofs of a few buildings. ‘This is Green Fields
caravan site. The only way I can see to expand it is by using the fields to the
back. Those are the fields owned by the Johnson’s that are under dispute.
Archer said it was in family ownership – which it is. On that basis Mike
Johnson’s theory might not be as far fetched as you thought. Look at it this
way, if the Johnson’s stump up half of Dad’s legacy then Peter Archer gets his
funds to refurbish his site and put in his swimming pool. But without Johnson’s
fields he’s not got the land for the expansion, and how could a lovely
character stone built restaurant be created in six months?

‘It all sounds to me as though Johnson is right
on the button,’ he continued. ‘I looked at the marina site and as things stand
at the moment it knocks the socks off Green Fields. The vans due to be moved on
to the
Lockside
plots at the marina could easily be
the ones being removed from Green Fields. Peter Archer is already losing
business and it is all set to go downhill if he doesn’t do something quickly.
We are told that he doesn’t have any money to fund anything and the state of
the place supports that, so perhaps he did work Mike Johnson over as a warning
to make him do a deal.’

‘Don’t you think that that’s a little
melodramatic?’ responded the solicitor. ‘I can see that if Archer had half of
the land his sister is sitting on and a few quid thrown in for good measure, he
could expand his site as well as refurbishing the buildings and facilities. But
grabbing the whole lot so that he can turn their house into his new restaurant
needs a bit more imagination.’