It was being used as a scrapyard. There were piles of junked motors everywhere, guarded by the world’s biggest Alsatian, thankfully fastened onto the end of a long chain. ‘Mind the dog,’ said Little Twat, sniggering. ‘Wouldn’t want you getting hurt,’ Zitface added. ‘Not yet.’ Huyton let himself be led across the yard. Well, he had the shooter pressed up against his spine, so perhaps ‘let’ wasn’t strictly accurate. It was more a case of having no say in the matter. He still wasn’t afraid, not exactly, but he was wondering what the fuck was going on. Wild thoughts were swirling inside his head. That mention of a ‘new shirt’ was ringing alarm bells, but he didn’t know why. There was a dilapidated old portacabin standing by the mill. It looked as if it was propped against the wall for support. Zitface told Huyton to go inside so he did, and was surprised to find a smart interior consisting of just one room. He was also disturbed to see a long, bench-like desk and as many as a dozen. Jacqui eventually moved away from my arms, and I could see that she'd been crying. Wiping the tears away she told me, 'now put that tent back up. I'm not letting you leave me on my own.' She started to walk away, then noticing our small audience turned and said loud enough for everyone to hear. 'And then when you finished come to the caravan.'Of course the gathered group had no idea of our relationship, we could have been brother and sister for all they knew but it didn't stop a few tuts and headshakes.Even though I was all fingers and thumbs I still managed to get the tent re-erected in record time. I quickly ran over to the caravan, making certain that I knocked loud on the door.'Come in silly, ' Jacqui shouted. As soon as I entered I could see that Jacqui had washed her tears away and was looking at me with a huge smile. 'I'm truly sorry about this morning. As I've said Ron and me had a major row last night and it carried on this morning. With that and thinking about what we did.
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