She was a bit more of a looker than his usual partners and quite a bit younger. He could do with a screw. Hadn’t had one for a couple of weeks and then he’d had to pay for it. He liked the simplicity of paying for what he wanted. He wasn’t averse to a freebie but couldn’t be buggered with all the talking women expected beforehand. And the money you spent buying them food and drinks would pay for whatever you wanted from a pro, who knew what she was doing. If he wanted sex he wanted it. And looking at the Murphy girl quite turned him on. Perhaps she’d be appreciative if he helped her get rid of Ashdown.
What was the damn girl doing though? She was just sitting in her car. Connor guessed she was waiting for Ashdown and hoped she wasn’t planning anything daft like running him down with her car. There would be little he could do to stop her, if that was her intention.
After waiting an hour, Ashdown emerged from the shop, pulled down some metal shutters, locked them and walked a few yards down the road to where his car was parked. As he drove away, Connor was pleased the girl simply pulled out behind him and Connor in turn followed a couple of cars further back. The procession drove ten minutes out of town, climbing a particularly steep road that emerged next to the racecourse. They turned left onto what seemed quite a major road and after half a mile, a sign indicated they were entering the village of Woodingdean. Shortly after passing a large cemetery on the right, Ashdown turned left into a cul-de-sac. The Murphy girl followed but Connor was worried a third car might be too noticeable and drove a few yards past the entrance to the road and parked on the side of the main road. He was out of his car quickly and walked back in time to see, Ashdown had turned into the driveway of a detached chalet bungalow, about halfway up the cul-de-sac, which Connor assumed was Ashdown’s home.
The girl seemed content she had established where he lived because she had turned around at the end of the road and was now driving back down past where Ashdown had stopped. Connor returned to his car, noticing the great views down to the sea in the distance and eased back out into the traffic as she drove past. He was glad she hadn’t tried to run Ashdown down or anything so stupid. But the very fact she had been in Ashdown’s shop and followed him home, meant she was planning something, as the Chief had suspected. She had the potential to be a very loose cannon. Connor amused himself by imagining how he might spend a couple of hours with her, as he followed her out of town towards the motorway.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tom awoke in his own bed. He had set the first alarm by his bed for 7.00am. He instinctively hit the snooze button and almost simultaneously heard the alarm in the bathroom ring. Damn his efficiency, he thought. He dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. While he showered, he contemplated a day without seeing Melanie. Absurd as the thought was, he knew his feelings for her were growing every day. His rational side said he should enjoy her company while he can but not expect more. Some other part of him though wanted to find a reason to call her today, just so he could hear her voice.
He emerged from the shower a confused man. He had to think of his feelings in terms of an infatuation that wouldn’t last. After all, the odds of him ever having a real relationship with Melanie Adams, were at least a thousand to one against. The negatives were easy to identify. He sought some positives. He liked Americans. Always had done. Las Vegas was the holy grail of the poker player and he had twice managed to qualify for the greatest poker show on earth, the world series of poker championships. Okay their sense of geography was poor and they could distort history rather in their blockbuster movies but they were outgoing and generally fun. If at times it came across as superficial so what? Better an attempt at friendliness, even if a contrived “have a nice day,” rather than the cold and unwelcoming nature of the English. Was he being a bit harsh on his fellow countrymen? Probably, especially as they weren’t responsible for the inclement weather that drove them all indoors but nonetheless he did find their propensity to stand in queues and say nothing to those next to them, a quite alarming trait.
Anyway, what was important was that Melanie had already said she liked the English. Although slightly strangely it seemed the accent more than anything else that was the attraction. One point scored in his favour. Next positive, Melanie said she didn’t like relationships with film stars. That made two points scored. He was never going to be a film star. Okay not exactly an exclusive club so far but thirdly and perhaps most importantly they had discovered they both shared a passion for Monty Python. Perhaps not the soundest basis for a relationship but it did signify she had a quirky sense of humour, which he had already grown to like. Melanie hadn’t heard of Fawlty Towers and he made a mental note to get her the complete box set of episodes of his favourite comedy series, as a going away present.
Tom dried and moving to his bedside table checked the time. It was ten past seven and he had to be at the television studio in Southampton for nine o’clock. As the drive was at least ninety minutes, he needed to pull his finger out and get going. Still he wasn’t being
