explained.
‘They’re animals. If they get away with this they could do it to someone else.’
‘I realise that and that’s why we need you to identify them.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? They were covered up. Hiding their faces. I didn’t see them clearly.’
Weaver regarded him silently for a moment then sucked in a deep breath. He fished inside his wallet for a small rectangular piece of card that he pushed towards Mason, holding it before him until the teacher took it.
‘That’s got my number on,’ the detective explained. ‘If you remember anything give me a call.’
‘So that’s it?’ Mason said with an air of finality. ‘Just like that? Finished?’
Weaver hesitated a moment then got to his feet.
‘Like I said, call me if you remember anything,’ the policeman said, pausing at the door.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Mason added, caustically.
Weaver hesitated for a second then pushed the door open and stepped through.
Mason glanced at the card, holding it before him between his thumb and forefinger then he drew in a deep breath and closed his fist around it. He dropped it onto his bedside table.
Callum Wade
From his vantage point at the top of the hill, Callum Wade could see the lights of Walston below him. Hundreds of yellow and white pinpricks set against the darker panoply of the surrounding hills.
Callum sipped from his can of cider and took a deep breath, savouring the scent of wet grass and rain-sodden trees. He loved this spot and had done since he was a child, since his parents had first brought him here when he was four. Even though that event was now thirteen years in his past Callum could still remember it vividly. Sitting on a thick grey blanket on the hillside with his mum and dad and his older sister, eating the picnic that his mum had made, playing games on the hillside in the summer sunshine. Most of all, he remembered rolling down the hill through the tall, uncut grass and the butter-cups, the smells in his nostrils and a feeling of absolute contentment.
This place always made him think of his childhood and this evening was no exception. He walked along the crest of the ridge, finishing what was left in his can but sticking the empty into one of the back pockets of his jeans. He had no intention of leaving it here, no desire to litter the countryside that he had always been brought up to respect so much. He thought how much he would miss Walston when he left and particularly how much he would miss this hillside and the smells that he associated so strongly with such times of happiness in his life.
He had lost his virginity here too. Given up that last vestige of innocence just three weeks ago to a girl he’d known since he was six. Callum had never been a great one for girls. He got on well with them and he certainly would have liked to have sampled the pleasures of sex before but, he decided, the wait had been worth it. Even if the girl had been drunk. She’d told him the following day that she didn’t think they should become too involved. Not with him preparing to leave but they could go out for a drink now and again and she said that sex would be fine as long as her boyfriend didn’t find out. Well, it was only for a few weeks, wasn’t it? Callum was only too happy to agree. He was going to see her later (her boyfriend was working nights) and the thought of what they would do made him smile. He’d been thinking about her all day.
Callum wasn’t frightened of leaving Walston or his home. He wasn’t afraid of where he might be sent once his training was over. He knew that the time would come for him to do his tour in some Godforsaken part of the world and that when that time came there would be a chance he might not return. His mum had cried when he’d told her he’d joined the army. His dad had cried too but with pride. Callum had been a little overwhelmed. He’d never seen his dad cry before. It had almost started him off too. His
‘They’re animals. If they get away with this they could do it to someone else.’
‘I realise that and that’s why we need you to identify them.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? They were covered up. Hiding their faces. I didn’t see them clearly.’
Weaver regarded him silently for a moment then sucked in a deep breath. He fished inside his wallet for a small rectangular piece of card that he pushed towards Mason, holding it before him until the teacher took it.
‘That’s got my number on,’ the detective explained. ‘If you remember anything give me a call.’
‘So that’s it?’ Mason said with an air of finality. ‘Just like that? Finished?’
Weaver hesitated a moment then got to his feet.
‘Like I said, call me if you remember anything,’ the policeman said, pausing at the door.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Mason added, caustically.
Weaver hesitated for a second then pushed the door open and stepped through.
Mason glanced at the card, holding it before him between his thumb and forefinger then he drew in a deep breath and closed his fist around it. He dropped it onto his bedside table.
Callum Wade
From his vantage point at the top of the hill, Callum Wade could see the lights of Walston below him. Hundreds of yellow and white pinpricks set against the darker panoply of the surrounding hills.
Callum sipped from his can of cider and took a deep breath, savouring the scent of wet grass and rain-sodden trees. He loved this spot and had done since he was a child, since his parents had first brought him here when he was four. Even though that event was now thirteen years in his past Callum could still remember it vividly. Sitting on a thick grey blanket on the hillside with his mum and dad and his older sister, eating the picnic that his mum had made, playing games on the hillside in the summer sunshine. Most of all, he remembered rolling down the hill through the tall, uncut grass and the butter-cups, the smells in his nostrils and a feeling of absolute contentment.
This place always made him think of his childhood and this evening was no exception. He walked along the crest of the ridge, finishing what was left in his can but sticking the empty into one of the back pockets of his jeans. He had no intention of leaving it here, no desire to litter the countryside that he had always been brought up to respect so much. He thought how much he would miss Walston when he left and particularly how much he would miss this hillside and the smells that he associated so strongly with such times of happiness in his life.
He had lost his virginity here too. Given up that last vestige of innocence just three weeks ago to a girl he’d known since he was six. Callum had never been a great one for girls. He got on well with them and he certainly would have liked to have sampled the pleasures of sex before but, he decided, the wait had been worth it. Even if the girl had been drunk. She’d told him the following day that she didn’t think they should become too involved. Not with him preparing to leave but they could go out for a drink now and again and she said that sex would be fine as long as her boyfriend didn’t find out. Well, it was only for a few weeks, wasn’t it? Callum was only too happy to agree. He was going to see her later (her boyfriend was working nights) and the thought of what they would do made him smile. He’d been thinking about her all day.
Callum wasn’t frightened of leaving Walston or his home. He wasn’t afraid of where he might be sent once his training was over. He knew that the time would come for him to do his tour in some Godforsaken part of the world and that when that time came there would be a chance he might not return. His mum had cried when he’d told her he’d joined the army. His dad had cried too but with pride. Callum had been a little overwhelmed. He’d never seen his dad cry before. It had almost started him off too. His
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