It was a few days later. Adele’s warning words to Peter hadn’t had any effect. He had his own thoughts on the subject. Who was she to tell him what to do, anyway? It was all right for her; she had always been the favourite. But he was the one who their dad always picked on. No matter what he did, his dad would always have it in for him, so why should he bother trying to please him?
He was currently engaged in a burglary with his friend Alan. They had picked a house in an affluent area, and waited until they knew the owners would be in bed asleep. Within minutes they were standing inside the lounge. Alan had already checked the location of the other rooms, noting that there was also a dining room at the front of the house with a kitchen beyond.
‘Tell you what, to save time, you go and see if there’s anything worth nicking in the other room while I get the TV and video,’ Alan whispered to Peter.
Peter nodded then crept out of the living room, crossed the front hall and eased open the door to the dining room. Spotting a mahogany cabinet at the far side of the room, he skulked over to it.
It had several cupboards, some of which were fitted with doors containing leaded glass panes. It was clear to see that there was nothing of value inside those. It was the cupboards without glass panes that Peter was interested in. He tried to open each of them in turn but, to his consternation, they were all locked.
Next, he tried the drawers. His luck was in. Neatly tucked into the corner of the top draw was an ornate key. He picked it up and was just about to try one of the locked cupboards when he heard the faint sound of voices. He thought they were coming from upstairs, drifting down from the room above him. Was he imagining it?
He stopped what he was doing, and listened intently. Yes, he could definitely hear voices, and they were coming from inside the house. He managed to pick out the sound of two different voices; one female and the other male.
Realising he needed to warn Alan, Peter dropped the key and sped towards the door. But before he reached it, he heard heavy footsteps at the top of the stairs.
‘What the hell’s going on!’ roared a man’s voice as his speedy footsteps descended the stairs.
Peter could feel a cold shiver of fear running through him. He was too late to warn Alan, so he dashed behind the door, planning to pounce on the man as he pushed it open. Then he waited.
But the man didn’t come inside the room. He took the other door instead; to the living room. As soon as Peter heard the man challenging Alan, he broke cover, dashed out of the dining room, across the hallway and towards the front door. A surge of adrenalin was driving him; his only thoughts were of escape.
A series of observations flitted through his mind. The shadow of a man through the open lounge door. His own harried breathing. His feet stumbling across the hall carpet. The front door still ajar where they had entered the property. His trembling limbs.
Peter grasped the front door, and tugged it open. Then he was on the driveway, sprinting towards the road; the sound of a woman’s frantic screams echoing in his ears.
He reached the gate, gripping the metal rails for support as he turned onto the pavement. Almost slipping, but managing to steady himself. A quick glance upwards. The fleeting view of a terrorised woman at the window. Lights switching on in neighbouring houses. Running. Panting. Sweating. Desperate to escape.
Peter kept going, his feelings of panic urging him on. He didn’t stop till he was well away from the house. And only then did he think about the plight of his friend who was still trapped inside.
*
It was the next day when the police arrived at their front door once again asking for Peter. Adele was relieved that their father wasn’t home. But she was astounded to hear what the police had to say.
‘Peter Robinson, we would like you to come down to the station for questioning in connection with the death of Mr Harry Burton,’ said one of the officers.
Adele covered her mouth with her hand in shock while her mother remained slack-jawed and silent.
‘He will need an adult to accompany him,’ the officer said, looking at Shirley.
This prompted a reaction from Shirley who was so flabbergasted that she responded to the officer’s previous statement. ‘Who’s Harry Burton?’ she asked.
‘We’ll go through the details at the station,’ said the officer. ‘Would you like to get yourself ready to accompany us?’
Shirley nodded, still stunned, and mechanically carried out his instructions.
It was an anxious time for Adele while her mother and Peter were at the police station. As well as worry over what Peter had got himself involved with this time, she was fearful about having to tell her father when he arrived home.
Her mind was in turmoil; jumbled thoughts raced around inside her head. What if Peter had killed someone? Maybe he was just a witness and had evidence relating to a killing.
Eventually, when she had exhausted all possibilities, she decided to do something to occupy her mind until they returned home. She channelled all her nervous energy into cleaning and tidying the house. That seemed to calm her down until her father arrived home.
‘Where the bloody hell is everyone?’ was his first question. He was already in a bad mood.
Adele became flustered. Terrified of his reaction, she made an instantaneous decision. She wouldn’t tell him. She couldn’t. He’d never know. Not unless Peter was put inside. And by that time he’d be out of reach.
‘I dunno,’ she said. ‘They didn’t tell me where they were going.’
He grunted and sent Adele to make him a drink. She was glad to get away so he wouldn’t notice the worry on her face. It suddenly occurred to her that he’d find out where they’d been as soon as Peter and her mother returned. Then she’d be in big trouble. She felt panicked. What could she do? She shouldn’t have told him a lie.
Then it came to her. He needn’t find out. She’d stop her mother and Peter from telling him. If she watched out for them coming down the street she could head them off and make sure they didn’t tell him. Now she just needed to think of a cover story.
As soon as she had given Tommy his drink, she dashed upstairs and waited at the front bedroom window. There she had a good view of the street and would be able to see them on their way home.
It was only another ten minutes until she spotted her mother and Peter. Adele raced down the stairs and rushed from the house. She ran towards them.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Shirley when Adele reached her, breathless and flushed.
Adele put out her hand in a stop gesture. ‘Wait,’ she panted. When Adele had regained her breath, she said, ‘My dad’s not to know. I’ve told him I don’t know where you are. We’ll have to make something up.’
Shirley had a confused expression on her face and was about to respond when Adele continued, ‘You know what happened last time Peter was arrested. We can’t risk it happening again.’
‘But he’ll know,’ said Peter. ‘I’ve been charged so I’ve got to go to the magistrates’ court tomorrow.’
Adele paled, ‘What with?’ she stuttered.
‘Burglary.’
‘What about the… the murder?’
‘It was Alan,’ said Peter whose gaze then dropped to the ground.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘We were caught. Well, Alan was. I was in the other room so I ran out.’ Again his gaze shifted.
‘But, why?’ asked Adele.
‘I dunno. I just saw the man going into the living room where Alan was. The police said he’d stabbed him.’
‘Oh my God!’ said Adele. ‘What will happen?’
‘He’ll go down for it. He’s admitted it, but he’s saved my skin. The police would have had me for the murder too, but Alan told them I wasn’t there when it happened, and the man’s wife saw me running off.’
Although Adele breathed a sigh of relief, she couldn’t help noticing that Peter’s main concern was for his own welfare rather than for the poor woman who had lost her husband. But she let it pass for now. Despite being horrified that Peter had been connected with somebody’s murder, she was more worried about how her father would react if he found out about Peter’s crime. They needed to get back home before her father noticed she was missing.
‘Let’s think of an excuse for my dad,’ she said. ‘Hopefully he’ll be out tomorrow so he won’t know about you going to court.’
Her mother and brother agreed with her and they quickly strung together a cover story to explain their whereabouts.
Adele ended by saying, ‘Let’s see what happens tomorrow, then we can decide what to tell him. If you don’t get sentenced then he won’t be any the wiser.’
‘But if I do…’
‘Then you’ll be out of his reach and we’ll deal with him,’ Adele cut in, looking at her mother for affirmation.
Shirley nodded.
‘But he’ll go mad!’ said Peter.
‘Not as mad as he would be with you if he could get his hands on you.’
‘Thanks sis,’ said Peter, barely audible, and Adele noticed how he lowered his head. It was as though he was ashamed at what he had done and the strain he was putting them under. He gulped then added, ‘You’re a lifesaver.’
Adele cringed at the irony of his words, thinking about the poor woman who had lost her husband at the hands of one of Peter’s friends. As they continued to walk back to the house, Adele could feel a rising fear. She desperately hoped that none of them slipped up and gave the secret away because she was terrified of the consequences should her father ever find out.