Mr Nice
Contents ( 55)
MR NICE
JOHN NICHOLL
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
More from John Nicholl
About the Author
About Boldwood Books
1
Megan woke with a start, opening one bleary eye and then the other, as the banging got louder, reverberating throughout the entire house, the front door shaking in its frame. She turned her head on the pillow, tired eyes narrowed to slits, glancing at the illuminated numbers on the digital clock to her left. Megan screwed up her face, swearing crudely under her breath as the clock’s face came into gradual focus. 2.03 a.m., and here he was again, pissed out of his tiny mind no doubt, hammering on the door like the place was on fire. Would he ever see sense? Would he ever grow up? It seemed that even the threat of imprisonment couldn’t control the fool’s drunken excesses.
Come on, girl, up you get. Just get rid of him. Send him on his way. He won’t sod off otherwise. The idiot never did.
Megan threw back her summer-weight quilt. She rose wearily from the bed, pulling on a cotton T-shirt and a pair of loose, knee-length, linen shorts, before approaching her young daughter’s bedroom, across the small landing at the front of the Victorian house, with a view of the little garden and street below. As the banging became even more insistent Megan entered the room, to find her daughter perched on her single bed with the curtains only slightly ajar, peering down, half-hidden, at her drunken father below. A single tear ran down the young child’s freckled cheek as she turned to Megan, her face perfectly framed by her pale-yellow hair.
Lottie smiled thinly as she met her mother’s tired eyes, but there was an unmistakable air of sadness about her that made Megan’s heart sink. It seemed the breakup and everything that went with it was taking its inevitable toll.
‘Is Daddy cross again? Have I been naughty?’
Megan reached out, pulling Lottie towards her and hugging her tight as she carried her towards the larger bedroom at the back of the house, away from the street.
‘No, sweetie, it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. Daddy is being silly again, that’s all. I’m going to tell him to go away, and then we can get back to sleep. Try not to worry. Everything is going to be just fine. I’ll look after you. I love you very much.’