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Back The Woman in the Wood Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by M.K. Hill
  3. THE WOMAN IN THE WOOD
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author
  62. An Invitation from the Publisher

‘I’ve got to make a quick call home.’ She motioned to her own desk in the dark incident room. ‘Do you mind?’

He gestured – Be my guest – and turned away to point the remote control at the TV. Sasha hesitated in the doorway, wondering when, or if, he was intending to head back to his hotel, or wherever it was he was living these days.

In the office, where the only points of light came from the various bits of tech, and from the Essex Police badge screen savers bouncing around in the dark, she sat at her desk and rang Connie’s mobile.

Barry answered. ‘Yeah?’

‘Hello, Barry,’ she said sweetly. ‘It’s Sasha. How are you?’

‘Yeah,’ he said sheepishly. ‘Good, as it happens.’

‘Lovely. Is Connie there, by any chance?’

Barry didn’t waste time handing Sasha over to her sister.

‘Hello?’ said Connie, coming on the line.

‘Hold on a minute, Con,’ Sasha said, and went to close Vaughn’s office door – he was faced away, staring at the TV – then padded back to her desk.

‘So, Con—’

‘Are you going to be quick, darling?’ said her sister impatiently, and Sasha could hear music and laughter in a pub or bar in the background. ‘I’m really quite busy.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, Con, it won’t take long,’ said Sasha, who took a deep breath and then turned the air very blue.

52

Sitting on his bunk, Abs listened to the shouts and yells coming from the ping-pong competition on the concourse of the wing. One of the cons, a lifer but a decent fella, stuck his head into the cell to ask if he was going to join in.

‘Got something to do, bruv,’ Abs told him.

Every few minutes someone popped in to try to convince Abs to join the fun, because everyone in the prison liked him, the inmates and guards alike, and everyone wanted to be his friend. Some of the things the other prisoners were doing time for would make your hair curl, but these violent offenders and armed robbers and drug dealers were always asking Abs for an autograph to send to their missus or girlfriend, and they all wanted to hang out with him. Early series of Laid In Essex! were being rerun on ITVBe in the afternoons, and Abs sat and watched them with a group of the fellas, and he’d tell them funny stories about what happened when they filmed such and such an episode.

It weren’t no picnic being in prison, but his life there wasn’t so unpleasant.

Nobody could even believe Abs was inside, him being a celebrity, but he was convicted of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice for his part in covering up the murder of Rhiannon Jenkins and hiding her body.