two minds as to what to do. A big part of her said dump him and walk away. The other part knew she still really liked him and that, underneath it all, he was a good guy.
She led him back up the slope, away from the underpass, on to her estate. The little row of shops on this estate was thriving, unlike its counterpart on Shoreside. A newsagent, hairdresser and a small bakery in which was a tiny area set aside as a cafe, about ten seats. It was here she took Mark, sat him down and ordered a couple of Cokes.
Then, with growing horror, she listened to his story, snippets of which she had heard on the news and from friends, never realizing Mark was in any way involved.
‘To me, and anyone else with a brain, the answer’s simple. Go to the police. You haven’t done anything wrong, except rob three people.’ She pulled a disapproving face at this. ‘They’ll protect you, it’s their job. Speak to that Christie guy, the one who dealt with Beth
…’
Mark was already shaking his head. ‘No, he’s a twat, they’re all twats,’ he spat.
‘Stop swearing,’ Katie admonished him with a hoarse whisper, looking around embarrassed.
‘OK, OK. I’m going. I just wanted to let you know, that’s all.’
‘Why?’
‘You know. Sorry I was a dickhead. I just wanted to let you know before I left.’
‘Have you seen Bradley?’
‘Yeah.’ Mark ran the back of his hand under his nose. ‘I let him know.’
Katie sat back and regarded him, her mouth tight.
‘Look, will you do me one last favour?’ he asked.
She sighed. ‘Depends.’
‘Use your phone, call me a taxi to take me to Preston railway station.’
‘Why not Blackpool? It’ll cost a fortune to get to Preston.’
‘They’ll be on the lookout for me around here.’
‘Mark — who’s they?’
‘Cops, crims, killers… everyone. I’ve got enough to pay for the taxi. Preston’s on the mainline, so I can go anywhere from there.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘I haven’t worked that one out yet.’
‘Have you spoken to your mum about this?’
‘That bitch.’
‘She’s still your mum.’
‘Sod her, I’m going and that’s that.’ He looked longingly at Katie. She was very, very pretty. ‘Will you come to the station with me and say goodbye?’
And although her senses told her no, the fact was that she was still a young, romantic lass, still in love with Mark, and what could be more beautiful than saying a tearful goodbye on a cold railway platform? It was an offer her immature mind could not refuse.
Despite the time of day, busy for taxi drivers, one arrived in ten minutes, lured by the length of the journey and its earn-ing potential. But when the lady driver saw her fares, she balked.
‘You sure you have enough money?’ she sneered at the kids.
Angrily Mark almost stuffed the roll of notes he’d stolen from his mother into her face. ‘Does that look enough?’
‘Yeah, OK, just asking,’ she said defensively.
The two teenagers got into the back and their twenty-mile journey began.
At first they were silent, engrossed in their thoughts.
‘My mum’ll kill me if she finds out about this,’ Katie said.
‘Why should she?’
‘Cos the school will phone her up eventually when they realize I’m not there.’
‘Oh, yeah, that’s what they do, isn’t it? I think they’ve given up on me.’
‘You fool, Mark, you bloody fool,’ Katie said almost in the style of one of the heroine’s she had just been reading about in an Austen novel.
Next thing, the two were in a clinch. Their teeth clashed, their lips mashed together and groans of ecstasy emanated from their throats. The taxi driver saw the embrace in the rear view mirror and gave them an ‘Oi’.
They disengaged. Katie looked seductively at Mark and he looked lustily at her, feeling himself tight against his zipper. They sat close together for the remainder of the journey and using Katie’s school bag and Mark’s rucksack for cover, Mark slid his hand up her skirt and she hers down his jeans. But they fooled no one, especially at the point of climax when Mark howled loudly.
The taxi driver tutted disgustedly.
There were problems on the west coast mainline, delays in both directions and the next train, north or south, wouldn’t pass through for at least another hour. Going east wasn’t a problem, but Mark had set his mind on London. Homeless and hungry in Leeds didn’t have the same ring to it, somehow.
‘This is so wrong,’ Katie breathed into Mark’s ear. They continued to embrace on the platform at Preston railway station. ‘Please don’t go. I didn’t realize I missed you so much.’
The young, virile Mark’s resolve was weakening. He was hard again, his cock feeling like it was on fire, straining against his damp clothing.
‘I need to disappear, otherwise they’ll kill me.’
She pushed him away. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘You’ve got Bradley,’ he said, hurt.
‘Bradley’s nice enough, but he isn’t you.’
‘I do want to be with you, but I can’t.’ He looked up at the overhead arrivals monitor. A train from Manchester for Blackpool was due in shortly.
Katie’s mobile phone rang. She checked it. ‘My mum, jeez. The school must have contacted her already.’ She pressed the disconnect button.
‘They won’t know you’re with me,’ Mark said confidently. ‘Just get on the train and waltz back into school. Say you felt ill or something — but please don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me, or know where I’m going.’
‘I won’t,’ she promised him. She kissed the tip of her forefinger and placed it on his lips, then turned and crossed the platform as the Blackpool train drew into the station.
‘No reply. Her phone must be turned off.’ Katie’s mother, a mid-forties version of her pretty daughter held up the home phone to prove her point.
Henry Christie held up his hands to reassure her as he spoke. ‘It’ll be nothing to worry about.’
‘Nothing to worry about? She hasn’t missed one day of school since she was five years old. If that little brute has anything to do with this, I’ll wring his neck.’ Her own neck and jaw were tensed as she spoke.
‘It may not be anything to do with Mark. It might not be anything to do with anything,’ he stressed, ineffectually.
‘Ma’am, has she seen Mark Carter recently?’ Karl Donaldson asked Mrs Bretherton, pronouncing the surname as ‘Carduh’ and utilizing his slow Yankee twang as a soothing device. Her eyes came up to him seductively. Henry thought he heard her gasp.
‘No, no,’ she said, suddenly self-conscious under Donaldson’s eyes. ‘I know she missed him, though. Always mooning around the place. I think they’ve had relations,’ she said timidly, ‘but she never confided to me, though.’
Mrs Bretherton was wearing a fairly low cut blouse, a practical piece of clothing and not excessively revealing, but Henry spotted that her upper chest and lower neck had flushed red. She actually fanned herself by flapping hand, and blowing out. It’s not that hot, Henry thought sourly.
‘Are you OK, ma’am,’ Donaldson inquired as though he cared.
She licked her lips, they’d gone dry, and said, ‘Yes, I’m just hot all of a sudden.’
Henry’s mouth curved down disdainfully at the corners.
‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry y’self about,’ Donaldson cooed. ‘Even if she is with Mark, he ain’t no danger, but we do need to trace him. And obviously we’ll put our efforts into finding Katie, too. S’please, doncha
