What Goes Around

by Ann Bloxwich

  ‘Hugely enjoyable and gripping, with characters so believable that you forget you don’t know them in real life . . . A talented new voice in crime fiction . . . Bloxwich kept me guessing to the end’

  -Louise Voss

  ‘As slick and hard-hitting as brass knuckles in baby oil, What Goes Around is a riotous, thrilling and fresh crime tale that brings huge entertainment, wry humour and twists galore . . . Highly recommended’

  -Rob Parker

  ‘What Goes Around is a dark and gritty walk on the wild side . . . Ann Bloxwich is an exciting new voice in crime fiction and I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next’

  -Howard Linskey

  ‘What Goes Around pulls back the curtain to reveal the darker side behind a world of glamour that few have seen . . . This is an impressive debut with a twisting storyline and sublime list of characters that reach out and pull you in . . . A gripping thriller that will keep you reading long after it’s time to turn off the light . . . Ann Bloxwich is a crime writer destined to be a big name in the future’

  -L J Morris

  ‘Sharp characters, believable dialogue and an earthy sense of humour combine with a strong sense of place to create an intriguing mystery’

  -Douglas Skelton

  ‘I don’t think another book has made me laugh or cry as much as this one’

  -Louise Mullins

  ‘This is a cracking crime thriller . . . The perfect alternative to a girl’s night out . . . I devoured it’

  -Lisa Jenkins

  WHAT

  GOES

  AROUND

  ANN BLOXWICH

  Published in 2021 by Dark Edge Press.

  Y Bwthyn

  Caerleon road,

  Newport,

  Wales.

  www.darkedgepress.co.uk

  Text copyright © 2021 Ann Bloxwich

  Cover Design: Jamie Curtis

  Cover Photography: Rene Asmussen/Pexels

  The moral right of Ann Bloxwich to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, stored, or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available

  from the British Library.

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-5272-9111-9

  For my amazing Grandma, who taught me to read before I started school and instilled a love of books in me that continues to this day. You gave me so much strength, I hope I make you proud.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  63

  64

  65

  66

  67

  68

  69

  70

  71

  72

  73

  74

  75

  76

  77

  78

  PROLOGUE

  Her mouth was open, but the scream refused to come out as she was dragged backwards on her stomach across the dimly lit path, a pair of strong hands wrapped around her bare ankles. She scrabbled frantically at the hard-packed earth, the broken glass, the barbed-wire fence, trying desperately to get a purchase on anything she could to thwart her attacker.

  Her dress rucked up beneath her and she tried in vain to tug it back down, to cover what little of her modesty remained. Fingers wound their way into her hair and tightened into a fist, yanking her head back painfully as a scarf was looped around her parched throat and a heavy weight settled on her back. Her tongue lolled out as she choked and tried in vain to suck air in through her crushed airway. The scarf was pulled tighter and her eyes flickered as she began to lose consciousness, the world descending into darkness.

  The last thing she heard before her body gave up the fight was a voice, coming from what seemed like miles away, calling out, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

  1

  Alex Peachey moved slowly through the park, eyes scanning the horizon, ears straining to alert him to any sounds. It seemed deserted, but he knew that failing to be vigilant could cost him his life. He’d called for back-up some time ago, but it had yet to arrive. He knew that the gunman was somewhere in the park, he’d chased him in here after the little boy had been shot. The weather was bitter and the ground frozen solid.

  Alex used the dense foliage to his advantage as he crept forward, trying to keep his breath shallow so the enemy wouldn’t spot the frosty clouds that came out of his mouth. Something caused the clump of bushes near the seesaw to tremble, so he took cover and waited. A glint of light between the leaves caught his eye. Alex felt the tension bunch in his shoulders as he prepared to take the shot.

  A hand on his shoulder startled him, causing him to shout. He turned to see his wife standing behind him, a look of disapproval on her face.

  ‘Alex, I’ve been calling you for ages! Now get off that damned computer, your dinner’s ready.’

  Alex turned back to his online game to see that the sniper had broken cover and shot his character dead.

  ‘Bollocks,’ he said, as he logged off and shut down the computer. He stood up and stretched until his fingers brushed the ceiling, feeling his joints pop and crack like breakfast cereal. He pushed his dark blond hair back off his forehead and wandered out into the kitchen.

  Jayne had made Alex’s favourite – shepherd’s pie, with cabbage and carrots. He breathed in deeply, savouring the rich meaty smell. He stood behind his wife, wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

  ‘That looks terrific,’ he said. ‘You haven’t got much though.’

  Her plate contained a third of the food that Alex’s did.

  ‘Well, I’m trying to be good, I’ve still a few pounds to shift,’ she replied.

  He squeezed her gently. ‘You look beautiful to me just the way you are, and I love the new hair colour.’

  She smiled at him and touched the ends of her brunette
bob. ‘I fancied a change. Do you think it suits me?’

  ‘It makes me think about skipping dinner and going straight to dessert,’ he grinned.

  She giggled and handed him his plate. They went through to the dining room, one of the few rooms not taken over by boxes, and sat at the table. Their son was at his friend’s house for a sleepover, so they had the place to themselves for a change.

  ‘How’s Joel been today?’ Alex asked between mouthfuls of food. He was trying hard not to eat it too fast, it was so good.

  Jayne poured some water for them both. ‘He was fine, no tantrums or anything. The staff at college said he’d been a bit loud, but nothing they couldn’t deal with.’

  ‘That’s good. I did wonder if he’d be more agitated with the move looming, but he seems to be handling it well.’

  ‘Don’t speak too soon,’ Jayne warned. ‘You know how regimented he can be. He’s going to find it difficult when his routines are disrupted.’

  ‘More challenging than usual then . . . great. Not,’ Alex said.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Jayne grumbled as she pushed away her empty plate. ‘This morning he was upset because there were no cornflakes left. I offered him toast but he says he always has cornflakes on a Friday. In the end I had to go out and buy some.’

  ‘Don’t worry, in a couple of weeks this will all be over then he’ll settle down again,’ Alex said, picking up the plates and carrying them through to the kitchen.

  When he came back, Jayne had gone into the lounge. He flopped down onto the sofa next to her, rubbing his stomach in satisfaction. She flicked through the film channels, trying to decide what to put on.

  ‘That was terrific,’ he said with a sigh. ‘How was work?’

  ‘It was hectic. We’re trying to get this book event sorted out as well as deal with Christmas shoppers, so I didn’t leave until an hour after closing time. Joel being at his friend’s was a blessing.’

  ‘I’ll stick a poster up in the station for you if you like.’ Alex stroked Jayne’s hair and kissed her before turning his attention back to the television.

  ‘So, what are we watching tonight?’

  2

  Laura Morrison leaned over to catch her breath, trying at the same time to ease the pain in her big toe where her new shoes were rubbing. She never wore high heels as a rule and was regretting it bitterly. She loved them though, patent leather with a buckle strap and the same burgundy shade as her new dress and matching coat. Thank God for Christmas bonuses. The new hairdo had cost a fortune too, but she was thrilled with the result; copper highlights blended perfectly with her own natural brown tones, making it glow. She’d shunned her usual glasses for a pair of disposable contact lenses – another decision she knew she’d regret by the end of the night.

  ‘Come on, we’re really late now! There’ll be no seats left if we don’t get a move on!’

  Vicky Wilson hurried ahead, defying gravity in a pair of white platform boots. Her huge white faux-fur coat concealed a black mini dress which clung like a second skin to Vicky’s curves, the neckline so low that her breasts were barely contained. The dress would have looked cheap on anyone else, but Vicky had a way of making it look fabulous. She was stunningly pretty, almost doll-like with flame-red hair piled messily up on top of her head, leaving out a few long strands to frame her face. An oversized shoulder bag in a violent shade of orange was slung over her shoulder.

  ‘How in hell did I let you talk me into going to a strip show? It’s really not what I had in mind when I said you should organize our Christmas night out,’ Laura complained as Vicky dragged her along. ‘Bunch of posers waving their dicks around – not exactly cultural is it?’

  Vicky giggled. ‘Trust me, you’ll have a great time and you’ve been saying you’ll come for ages now. It’s not just the guys, the drag artiste is great too and there’s a disco afterwards. It’ll be fun, trust me.’ She laughed as she handed the tickets to the bored-looking man at the door and made their way into the darkened room.

  The place was heaving, Laura had never seen so many women crammed into one room before. Over the top of the crowd she could just make out their friend waving madly at them, so she pushed Vicky ahead of her until they reached the front.

  ‘About bloody time!’ Helen Whittaker shouted, in a strong Birmingham accent. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming! It’s not been easy keeping these seats free you know, this lot are like fuckin’ animals – yes, I mean you love!’ she snarled as someone tried to slide onto one of the seats Helen had saved.

  At just over six feet tall, Helen was a formidable figure. She wore faded jeans, a white vest top and black trainers. She had a hoodie tied around her slim waist and gelled her short blonde hair into spikes. Laura wondered if they were as sharp as they looked.

  ‘Jesus, Hel, must you pick a fight everywhere we go?’ Laura asked. ‘Calm down, for Christ’s sake, before I slap you!’

  Helen roared with laughter. ‘Try it, Titch, I’ll get you a chair.’

  ‘No need, I’ve got a portable ladder in my bag,’ Laura winked. She looked around for Vicky, but she was nowhere to be seen. ‘Where’s Vicky gone? I wanted her to save my seat while I went to the bar.’

  Helen looked over everyone’s heads and shrugged. ‘I can’t see her. She’s probably gone to the loo. You stay here, I’ll get the drinks. What are you having – no, don’t tell me, I’ll surprise you.’ She winked at Laura and headed towards the bar, casually barging people out of the way as she went. A few people threw dirty looks at Helen, then at Laura, who smiled apologetically back at them. Helen was oblivious, she really didn’t care who she upset.

  Laura glanced around the room. It was a lot bigger than it looked from outside, with eight huge sash windows along one wall. The opposite side was dominated by the bar, staffed by four, all working at breakneck speed. The far end of the room was where the stage was. It was impressive to say the least, designed like an old-time theatre with heavy gold curtains framing the opening. These were closed, but they were moving as if someone was behind them.

  Helen strode back from the bar, expertly nudging people out of the way with her hips, drinks held high in the air. She handed Laura something bright-green and fizzy in a tall glass.

  ‘Get that down you, it’ll put hairs on your chest,’ Helen said, as she gulped her beer.

  ‘What is it? It looks like toilet cleaner!’ Laura wrinkled her nose.

  ‘It’s called a Dirty Slapper. Try it, I bet you’ll love it.’

  ‘Well, if it tastes as bad as it looks then I’m having your pint!’ Laura took a tiny sip and was surprised to find it tasted like sparkling lime juice. She smiled at Helen, punched her on the arm and clinked glasses with her.

  ‘Not bad. What have you been up to lately? It seems like ages since I’ve seen you.’

  ‘I’ve been at the Telford branch,’ Helen said, downing a third of her beer in one go and burping loudly. ‘Mr Skelton’s got me training the new staff over there.’

  ‘Ugh, that sounds like fun – not,’ Laura pulled a face, but Helen shook her head.

  ‘Nah, it’s really cool. For a start, it’s in the shopping centre, so no cold draught every time someone opens the door. Plus, there are loads of coffee shops and stuff, so decent places to have lunch. Thirdly, he’s seriously hot for an older guy. I’ve asked if there’s a transfer available.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Laura asked. ‘You’re thinking of leaving?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’m hardly moving to the other side of the world, just a few miles up the road. There are better opportunities for promotion, which is something I won’t get if I stay where I am.’ Helen laughed at Laura’s long face. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily.’ She planted a wet, beery kiss on Laura’s cheek, making her laugh.

  ‘I hope not, I’m not ready to let you go just yet.’ Laura glanced around the room and spotted Vicky weaving her way towards them through the crowd.
>
  ‘Where did you get to? You were in such a rush to get here I thought you’d be glued to your chair.’ Laura asked, turning as Vicky reached them.

  Vicky tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I popped outside to see if Ray was here but his car’s not outside, so he must be running late. I thought he might have texted me to be honest, but I suppose he can’t if he’s driving.’

  She shrugged off her coat and draped it around the back of her chair. Her dress had become twisted and she straightened it out, giving everyone in the vicinity a flash of her stocking tops.

  ‘Crikey, I knew you liked him, but that’s bordering on stalking. Be careful he doesn’t report you to the police.’ Laura looked concerned.

  Helen snorted into her beer. ‘Don’t be daft! He loves all the attention she gives him, I bet he gets a hard-on every time he sees her, knowing that someone else loves him as much as he loves himself!’ Helen drained her glass and burped again. ‘I’d call him a cunt, but he lacks the depth and warmth. Save my seat, I’m going for a piss.’

  She stepped past her friends and strode off towards the toilets. Laura’s mouth fell open in shock at Helen’s choice of swear word. Although her language was colourful at the best of times, it wasn’t one she’d heard her use before and the hatred in her voice was plain to hear. Vicky looked like she was going to burst into tears. Laura hugged her, telling her to take no notice.

  ‘Don’t get upset, Helen’s just got a lot on her plate at the moment. I’m sure she didn’t mean to snap.’

  Vicky managed a weak smile. ‘She doesn’t know what Ray means to me; she thinks it’s a silly crush. She’ll soon see though, Ray’s lovely once you get to know him.’

  ‘Helen’s just worried about you, that’s all,’ Laura replied. ‘You can’t blame her, given some of the things that have happened in the past. It’s not as if you and he are an item, is it?’