Page 26 of The Girl in the Woods

‘They’re smashing things up. I can hear them.’

‘Who are?’

‘It must be the Nazis.’

‘Smashing things up where, Jim?’

‘I don’t know. Outside, I think.’

Luke was about to appease him when his ears picked up the sound of crashing in the background. ‘All right, Jim. I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

Needles was about to pull his bedroom curtains when he saw the strange figure outside Jim’s house. It was well past twelve. Who’d be knocking at Jim’s at this hour? He grabbed the cricket bat he kept under the bed and pulled on his hoodie before walking over to Jim’s house, where he saw the man knocking on the door.

‘Jim, it’s DC Luke Carpenter. You called the station. Can you open the door for me?’

The detective peered through the window into the living room. The television was on, so Jim had to be in there. ‘Jim, can you open the door?’

‘What are you doing?’

Carpenter swung around and came face to face with Needles and his cricket bat.

‘Police! What are you planning on doing with that cricket bat?’

‘He ain’t done nothing wrong,’ said Needles. ‘Why are you bothering ’im? He’s got Alzheimer’s. He’ll be scared.’

‘Go home, son, and back to bed where you should be,’ said Carpenter.

‘I ain’t going nowhere. Jim’s not well.’

‘Would you put the bat down, please?’

Needles dropped the bat.

‘Who are you?’ asked Luke.

‘I live a few doors down.’

‘That tells me nothing. What’s your name, son?’

‘Colin Lees,’ Needles said reluctantly.

‘Mr Carter called us. He said he heard something. He sounded frightened.’

Needles narrowed his eyes. ‘Show me your ID.’

The detective nodded and held it up.

Needles stretched his arm to the porch’s roof and took down a key. ‘I’ll go in first,’ he said. ‘He knows me.’ He opened the door and called softly, ‘Jim? It’s me. Everything’s okay, mate.’

They both peered into the living room, where a silent TV was playing. Needles left the room and went to the cupboard under the stairs. There, he found Jim, crouched in the corner.

‘They’d told me to go here whenever the Nazis came. I haven’t heard any more bombing or crashing. Have they gone? They were knocking on the door,’ the elderly man said, wrapping his arms around his quivering body

‘They’ve gone now, Jim. I got rid of the bastards. You can come out. I’ll make us a nice cuppa, shall I?’

Luke looked on in amazement as Jim Carter crawled from the cupboard, his face dripping with sweat and his eyes red from crying.

‘Needles?’ Jim asked, clutching at the skinhead.

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