Belinda's Big Break and Other Stories

Raymond Smith

Description

Belinda is middle aged, single and well built. She has an eccentric widowed mother, well known for getting words wrong, who she just about tolerates. She is also a detective inspector.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 31 mai 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528958080
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Belinda’s Big Break and Other Stories
Raymond Smith
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-05-31
Belinda’s Big Break and Other Stories About the Author About the Book Dedication Copyright Information Story One Belinda’s Big Break Chapter 1 Visiting Mother Chapter 2 Loose Connections Chapter 3 Narrowing It Down Chapter 4 Setting a Trap Chapter 5 Reasons and Excuses Story Two Belinda’s Boxing Day Round One Failing to Connect Round Two Below the Belt Round Three Floored Round Four The Big One Round Five Hooks Story Three Belinda Kicks Off Chapter 1 Match of the Year Chapter 2 Missing the Target Chapter 3 A Game of Two Halves Chapter 4 Into the Danger Zone Chapter 5 Cornered Chapter 6 Extra Time Story Four Belinda on Leave Chapter 1 Shocking Trip Chapter 2 Young Offenders Chapter 3 AWOL Chapter 4 Options Chapter 5 Cracking the Code Story Five Belinda Gets Personal Chapter 1 The Intruder Chapter 2 Getting Acquainted Chapter 3 Getting Nowhere Fast Chapter 4 At the Double Chapter 5 Thinking It Over Chapter 6 The Big Match
About the Author

Raymond Smith is married to Janet and lives in Corby, Northants. He has four children and six grandchildren. He is retired. He began his working life as a painter and decorator, before becoming a buyer in the building trade. He then went on to be a Baptist minister. The last five years of his working life were at a care recruitment agency. He enjoys cooking, as well as keeping an eye on the fortunes of Luton Town Football Club.
About the Book
Belinda is middle aged, single and well built. She has an eccentric widowed mother, well known for getting words wrong, who she just about tolerates. She is also a detective inspector.
Dedication
To Janet – my wife, companion and encourager.
Copyright Information
Copyright © Raymond Smith (2019)
The right of Raymond Smith to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528905770 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528958080 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Story One

Belinda’s Big Break
Chapter 1

Visiting Mother
“It’s lovely to see you, dear; especially in the circumstances. But I wish you’d let me know you were coming; I’m getting ready to go out.”
Whether she realised it or not, the ‘circumstances’ were what had given Detective Inspector Belinda Payne the opportunity to pay a rare visit to her widowed mother.
“Where are you off to this time? Women’s Institute? Women’s Bright Hour at the church? Shopping with Mrs Bassett?”
“Wrong in every case,” replied Violet Payne. “It’s the U3A sewing group. How’s that leg of yours?”
“Not too bad, but I’ll be glad when I get the plaster off. It’s so heavy and awkward.”
“How did you do it?” asked her mother, as she walked through to the bedroom in her bungalow to get her coat and brush her hair.
“Slipped on a discarded bit of pizza on the fire escape at a night club in the town. When I regained consciousness I was on my way to hospital in an ambulance.”
“How many times have I warned you about going to such places?”
“Mother, they are not all dens of iniquity. Young folks just go there to dance and have fun. Anyway, I was there as part of a team on a drugs raid.”
“Drugs? Well, there you are; dens of iniquity.”
Belinda sighed and waited for the usual diatribe, which she mockingly mimed as her mother launched into it.
“Young people today, they don’t know they’re born. Why, when I was a girl…” And so it went on, concluding with, “Your father and I had such high hopes for you. Why you didn’t continue working at the bank, I’ll never know. It was a nice steady job that you could have done until you got married and had children. But, no, you wanted excitement. Look where it’s got you. No man, no children, and in a job where you work all sorts of hours and get in all manner of dangerous situations.”
Belinda wiped away a tear as she remembered her late father. She was an only child and had always got on better with her father. He seemed to understand why she preferred climbing trees to playing with dolls. When she came home with a black eye and a bleeding nose, he was smiling behind his wife’s back as she scolded her daughter for fighting with the boys.
As Violet re-entered the lounge, Belinda could hold it back no longer.
“Mother, let’s get this straight. I was bored to tears at the bank. Dad told me he was as proud as could be when I was accepted for the police force. I enjoy my job, despite the long and unsociable hours. As for men, I’ve not found anyone yet that was anywhere near what he was. If I want to remain single, that’s up to me; it’s none of your business. I thought that Bible of yours tells you not to judge; well, you’ve certainly ignored that bit for as long as I can remember.”
Violet’s jaw dropped open as she stood in front of her daughter, who was struggling to her feet.
“That’s a fine way to speak to your mother, I must say! I think it’s time you left. I don’t see you for months on end and then, when you do condescend to pay me a visit, you do nothing but insult me. You can give me a lift to Daphne Tyler’s house. It’s only a couple of miles away. That’s where our group is meeting today.”
“Lift? I can’t drive in this state.”
“How did you get here, then?”
“I asked the DCI that, if there were any officers going in your direction at any time, was it possible I could have a lift. Because I live alone, they kept me in hospital longer, then, when I finally got home, I watched daytime television until I got so bored that I had to get out. He agreed and that is how I got here. The same PC who brought me will pick me up on the way back. I’ve still got the key to your bungalow, so, if it’s OK with you, I’ll make myself a coffee and wait for him to arrive.”
“Yes, you can do that,” said her mother, tersely, “but try not to make a mess. The biscuits are in the tin marked ‘SUGAR’, but don’t drop crumbs on the carpet.”
Belinda said nothing, but thought to herself, ‘she’s still treating me as if I was eight years old; does she not realise that my fortieth birthday is only just around the corner?’
As Violet made her way to the bus stop, a police car pulled up. Belinda hobbled out on her crutches.
“I finished earlier than expected, Guv. Is it convenient, or do you want me to get someone to call later?”
“You don’t know just how convenient this is,” remarked Belinda, thinking of the awful cheap instant coffee that her mother bought. “Any chance you could make a slight detour and drop my mother off in the next village?”
“No trouble, Ma’am.”
Belinda called across to her mother. “You can have a lift after all.”
Violet came bustling back. “I do wish you wouldn’t shout in the street like that. What will the neighbours think? O my word!” She had looked across at the police car. “He’s black!”
“Yes, so he is. Do you know, he was the same colour when he dropped me off. How amazing!”
“There is no need for sarcasm, Belinda.”
“He was brought here as a child. His parents are Nigerian. Mother, this is PC Blessing Mbote. Blessing, this is my mother.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Payne.”
“Well, at least he’s polite,” whispered Violet. “He even raised his hat. Will I be safe?”
“Safer than if I was driving,” answered Belinda, remembering how her mother had criticised her in the past.
As they drove along, Blessing asked her if she was going anywhere nice.
“I belong to our local U3A.”
“U3A? What is that?”
“Old fogeys’ club” chipped in Belinda.
“No, it is not! It stands for University of the Third Age. It’s for retired and semi-retired people, so not just the elderly.”
“But why the Third Age?” Blessing asked.
“Your first age is school; your second is work; making your third when you retire. The group I’m going to today is the Sewing Group. We meet once a fortnight in different members’ houses. We were going to my neighbour across the road, but her and her husband came back from holiday and discovered they’d been burgled.”
Belinda’s ears pricked up. “Clara and Lennie Bassett?”
“Yes,” replied Violet. “No mess, apart from the glass in the bathroom window. Not much stolen, apart from Clara’s collection of Toby jugs that she had on the top shelves all around her kitchen. I hope your lot catch them, but I’m not holding my breath.”
They reached Violet’s destination and dropped her off.
“There’s been a spate of similar burglaries since you’ve been off, Ma’am. All of them involving people returning from holiday, and all of them just involving one or two valuable items.”
“All elderly people?” asked Belinda.
“No. The DCI thought that might be the connection, but then a young couple arrived back from honeymoon to find they had been robbed of a couple of silver photo frames. All the other wedding presents were still there, including some they hadn’t unpacked.”
Chapter 2

Loose Connections
“Hello, hello, are you there, Belinda?”
“Yes, mother. I’m at the hospital, just waiting to go in for physio.”
“Then how come I’m speaking to you on the phone?”
“I’m on my mobile.”
“You can’t be, dear; I don’t have anything to do with those things.”
“That’s the number I gave you in case of emergency. I hardly ever use the landline, apart from connecting to my laptop.”
“Landline? Laptop? You sound like you’re speaking a foreign language. Who gave you the right to give me a mobile number? I don’t remember giving you permission. You get more and