The Penn Friends Series Books 5-8: Penn Friends Boxset

by T H Paul

  She now got a better look at him. He was in his forties, give or take. She presumed he was in some form of management position, given his tailor suit and smart shoes. Possibly in banking or the stock market. Cocky and arrogant, for sure. It fitted his driving precisely. She parked up and followed him into the bar, entering just a minute after he had.

  He was loud and dominated his little group. The Man had arrived, and it was as if he wanted them all to know it. Mind you, Penny reflected the whole place was a carbon copy of the guy she’d just followed through the suburbs of London. She was the youngest one present, and as far as she could tell, the only female currently there. Most were in suits, though jackets had been shed, ties in the process of being removed. It was the end of the week. This was downtime for the city folk. Penny knew she didn’t fit in that crowd, nor was she old enough to buy a drink. She sunk into a corner for a moment but was soon attracting too much attention. It seemed every man in the place had a honing beckon telling them there was an attractive female in the room. She left before anyone could make a move.

  She walked over to the Audi. It couldn’t have been more than a year old––older than her car, almost certainly, but very much in mint condition. She was amazed it hadn’t already been involved in at least one accident.

  “Let the owner of this car attract the attention of every traffic cop this side of London,” she said as she placed her hand on the driver’s window. “Let them be waiting at every junction he cheats at, every road he speeds down, and be the vehicle behind everyone he cuts in on.” She laughed to herself. She would have no way of knowing, most probably, how it all worked out for him, but she felt she’d put one in for all law-abiding drivers the world over. Finally, one of the wild ones was going to have to pay for his aggression. At last, someone was going to see, and pull the man over. He would be put in his place, or so she hoped. She wouldn’t be there to see it, but she didn’t need to be. She had also never given an ability via an object before but felt confident enough that it would work on him nonetheless. She’d given talents just by thinking about someone from a distance, so this would be nothing compared to that.

  She got back in her vehicle. She wasn’t going to wait around. Mr Road Rage would most probably be inside the pub for some time, and if that were the case, might not even drive home himself. Maybe he lived nearby? It was indeed that type of area. The car park was full of Mercedes, BMWs and Audis, with a splash of a few other cars, for good measure. She pulled away. It was nearly half-past seven, and she’d lost an hour to Mr Road Rage. He would get what he deserved, but she wasn’t going to miss out on what she had planned. She would need to revise where she was heading and would pull over a little later. Right now she needed to get moving, to hit the motorway and head north. Thankfully the traffic was already noticeably thinner, though still busy. The roads in and around London were rarely anything else.

  3

  It felt good, doing my bit for the rest of us. Audi man––I never did know his name until everyone did––would certainly get his comeuppance. We’ll get to that.

  But the weekend was still so young. I had big plans, and they had been put on hold for an hour. Now it had to be the open road. I had my first real chance to see what the car could do, to put my foot on the accelerator and really move. It was fast. I was impressed. I needed to watch my speed in case I would meet the same fate as Mr Road Rage most probably soon would. Little did I know that this would be a weekend where I really pushed my powers to the extreme. There were so many people who needed putting in their place, and I had all the rage in me at that moment to fuel my desire for revenge.

  Less than forty minutes after pulling away from that pub, I was to meet the next target.

  I’d never stopped for a hitchhiker before––hadn’t been driving for long enough to have had the chance––but given my new freedom, that was what I did that night. It was a guy, though that didn’t bother me. I could protect myself. I also assumed––wrongly, in this case, as it would so undoubtedly prove––that given the fact he was hitchhiking in the first place, he would be the humble sort. The sort that was grateful for the help, happy that someone had stopped. His name was Keith.

  Keith was twenty-six, a drifter and someone who had never held down a job for more than three months. He slept rough during the summer months and popped into various housing schemes he knew about during the colder months of winter. Keith never stayed for long at any one place. He’d been standing at that particular junction for half an hour when the Jeep pulled over. He smiled to see a young woman behind the wheel. Penny lowered the window.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, Keith already picking up his rucksack, as he lowered his head in through the window.

  “Anywhere but here,” he said, and Penny actually smiled at that comment. She was heading the same way.

  “Jump in,” and he didn’t need a second invitation. He threw his bag into the back seat and strapped himself into the front. “I’m Penny,” she said after he just sat there in silence for a few seconds as if he’d just entered a bus, some form of public transport that didn’t require niceties like an introduction.

  “Keith,” he mumbled, not taking her hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, regardless, as she took her eyes from him and began to pull the car away and down the street. The motorway was just off the next exit from the roundabout, and she pulled onto it, heading north.

  “So, where are you heading?” he asked, as she joined the motorway.

  “Not too sure. I’ll hit Blackpool tomorrow but will stop before then. I don’t want to drive that far tonight. You?”

  “I dunno. Don’t care really.” He paused, as if that was explanation enough, before changing the subject. “Why Blackpool?”

  “Seems like a fun place.”

  “It’s okay. Quite a dive, though.”

  “You been?” She didn’t know why it came out sounding somewhat suspicious. She was sure he’d been to lots of places, he just seemed that sort of person.

  “Yeah, twice. People call it the Las Vegas of the North.”

  “Is it?”

  “I dunno. Never been to America, but if Blackpool is that, then Vegas can’t be much. Blackpool’s a dump.” He laughed. She’d never been to either. She doubted Blackpool was anything compared to Vegas, from what she’d seen of the Nevada hotspot, anyway. She was sure the weather was entirely different, for starters.

  They chatted a little over the next thirty minutes, the motorway taking them further north with every mile, the conversation shallow and meaningless. Keith checked out Penny's legs at least twice, not too subtle about it either. She still felt in control, however. She was the one behind the wheel.

  “This yours?” he said, his nose raised, head bobbing to indicate he was referring to the Jeep.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t going to elaborate.

  “Sweet.” Another glance at her legs. Thankfully she was in jeans. There was nothing to see, not that it seemed to bother him. “You some rich tart then?”

  She resented the way he spoke that last line, and especially the way he called her a tart. Just because she stopped to pick him up, to offer him a lift, she was now a tart?

  “Sorry?” She’d heard him only too clearly.

  “To be able to afford this, I mean. You can’t be twenty yet.” She was seventeen, not that she was going to tell him that. She figured he was mid-twenties, though was scruffy and his hair looked a mess. She wondered when it had last been washed. The longer he’d been in the car, the more she picked up his unique fragrance. She’d turned on the blowers five minutes earlier, trying to circulate the air somewhat.

  “My mother left it to me,” Penny said. There was silence for a moment, though not for as long as might have customarily been appropriate in a situation like that. An average person might have picked up on the apparent significance of that previous statement and given a respectful silence, some form of acknowledgement that they had understood. Not so with this man.


  “She died, then?”

  Penny instinctively hit the break, so taken aback by his insensitivity. They both jarred forward before Penny picked up speed again. “What was that for?” he said, rubbing his neck where the seatbelt had been tightly held in position, doing its job. Penny focused on the road for a few moments, a million responses going through her mind though none of them would help the situation she found herself in. This guy had to go. He was a deadbeat, a dropout. He seemed to have no sensible or sensitive vibe in his entire body.

  Penny spotted a sign for a Travel Lodge that was marked as being two miles away. He noted she’d seen the sign as well. Moments later, she pulled over.

  “Look, I think this is as far as I can take you,” she said, turning to him.

  “Where you going then?” he said.

  “None of your business. Are you getting out or what?”

  “What if I don’t want to?” he smiled, though was reaching back for his bag. “I guess I’ll have to make my way to Blackpool another way,” he said.

  “Why Blackpool?” She wished she had never mentioned anything about it, though Penny had no way of knowing then how much of a loser he was when she’d been making polite conversation.

  “Why not? I can show you around.”

  “I don’t need showing around, thank you.” She wasn’t going to be bossed around by him.

  “But I think you do, sweetheart,” he said, but as he was leaning across to her––she had no idea of his intentions––she reacted. Give Keith a fear of enclosed spaces. The change was almost instantaneous. Without saying anything else, he grabbed the handle and opened the door, practically jumping out, sweat already visible on his forehead. He dropped his bag at his feet, unsure of what had just come over him, but knowing he couldn’t stand to be in her car another moment. Even standing there under the bridge, the walls seemed to press in on him. He had to move. He slammed the door and walked down the road, without saying another word. Penny raced on, losing Keith in the rearview mirror as the road twisted around a bend some two hundred metres further on. Less than five minutes later she was pulling into the carpark at the hotel. It was nearly nine. She had made some progress but still would have a long drive the following morning. It was possible Keith would stumble across the car if he kept walking up the road, but he indeed wouldn’t enter the hotel, and she was sure he wouldn’t want a ride again with her, either. Claustrophobia was not something that usually went together with hitchhiking. She amused herself with the thought of how he was going to get to Blackpool now. She imagined he would abandon the idea, almost as quickly as he’d exited her vehicle. She wouldn’t be undoing that gift anytime soon, either.

  However, Keith was not to be dissuaded quite that easily. She was a sweet looking girl, apparently with a smoking body and travelling very much alone. He could think of a few fun things they might be able to do together in Blackpool, especially if she had some money. He’d walked as far as the Travel Lodge, spotting her car in the carpark but didn’t go any nearer. He had no desire to get inside her car, or any vehicle for that matter, again. Suddenly being confined like that had lost its appeal. But there was more than one way to travel other than by car, as any hitchhiker knew. The M1 was not far away, a service station within easy walking distance. He’d find a lorry on the northbound side, one of which he would climb into the back, preferably one that had an open top. He’d done that once before, and given the fact it wasn’t a cold night, would have no trouble repeating. Liverpool was a popular destination for many lorries, with the shipping routes taking them to Ireland and beyond. Blackpool was then only another hour further north, and he’d soon be able to find someone travelling that way. Blackpool had suddenly become his sole focus. He would have to show her he was resourceful. He’d left her too early. She needed to see a side of him he’d not had a chance to show her. He resented the fact his time had been cut short. Tomorrow was another day, though. He would travel through the night, but he’d be waiting for her. He would show her which of them really knew their stuff. He would have to be there ready, waiting for her to arrive. Blackpool wasn’t a huge place, but it was big enough. If he didn’t spot her coming, he might not see her at all. He would make sure he was there ahead of her.

  4

  I slept well that night. The early morning news broke a story about a cop being killed in central London, but no one was looking for me. I was free. No one knew about Penny Black, a girl on her own, unattached, without parental shackles, entirely at liberty to do what she pleased. Waking up that morning felt incredible. It was Saturday, I was undoubtedly going to make it to Blackpool, and I was sure to avoid all hitchhikers. I’d done my bit.

  However, little was I to know at that moment that the hitchhiker would find me. When he told me he’d been there twice before, he hadn’t entirely explained himself. He grew up there, in fact. His first time was therefore from birth to sixteen, at which age he ran away from home. His second visit would be for a four-month spell at the age of twenty-two. He knew the place. He knew people. All this I was about to find out. And it started off as quite a bit of fun, actually. Keith surprised me.

  Two things are certain when you grow up in a place. The first is that you get to know it and the people really well. Keith knew the streets, the clubs, the theme parks as well as the places to avoid. He knew the people to avoid as well, though had a group of mates who he connected with whenever he was in town. It’d been five years since that last happened, and he had no idea who was still around, who might still be living in that hellhole and had otherwise avoided jail.

  They weren’t all bad. But most were.

  The second thing anyone growing up in somewhere like Blackpool feels is a deep dislike for the place. Anywhere else will do. Keith wasn’t particularly happy to be back, but this wasn’t going to be an extended visit. The girl, however, intrigued him, and he was excited about making contact again. It was six in the morning. He was already on the outskirts of Blackpool, a place that had long since failed to be home for him. He called no place home now. He’d stayed in nearly every major city in the country. He still had a little walking to do, but he would be in place long before the likes of Penny and her Jeep made it to town.

  Penny rolled past the city limits of Blackpool just before eleven. She’d been on the road for three hours, the traffic noticeably less seeing as it was the weekend, progress was good. She spotted Keith almost immediately. It was as if he’d been standing there waiting for her. There was no surprise on his face as she pulled over. She had no idea that he’d been anchored to that spot for hours already, at the point of assuming it was all pointless. Yet, at last, his patience had once again been rewarded.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Penny said, pulling over and with the window open. Keith had kept his distance.

  “Told you I’d see you here.”

  “How did you…” she started to say but stopped herself. It didn’t matter. Keith had apparently found a way to Blackpool overnight, and she didn’t need the details.

  “Meet me at the Pier,” he called, already turning as if heading down the road on foot.

  “I don’t know where the Pier is?” she called.

  “See that tower?” Keith said, pointing to her left, Penny seeing the top of the iconic tower in the distance. “It’s not far along the beach from there. You can’t miss it.”

  She was going to offer him a ride––not that she wanted to––but he was already moving away from her before she could have said anything. She remembered he would prefer the outdoors, anyway. She passed him moments later, turning her car, heading directly for the tower as best as she could make out, getting alongside it just minutes later and seeing the Pier not far beyond. She parked her car in a multi-storey carpark one block back from the beach and made her way across the main road on foot. Tram lines ran the other side of the road, though nothing was coming, and Penny crossed them and was now waiting at the Pier. All around her amusement arcades could be heard, not only from
the Pier behind her but the buildings back across the road. She understood the Vegas connection, to some degree. There were posters for casinos and clubs all over the place, a bowling alley across the street and even a wedding chapel right next to the Pier. She wondered how many couples actually got married there. She couldn’t imagine ever doing that herself.

  The Pier itself seemed to be one giant amusement area, the front section anyway. Penny was there for barely five minutes when Keith appeared. He somehow looked a little less shabby that day. She wondered where he had slept if he had slept. It would be one of many questions that would go unspoken.

  “So, what do you think?” Keith asked, Penny not altogether clear if he was talking about the Pier, the city or his obviously slightly improved appearance. She opted for the Pier.

  “It looks a little more substantial than I imagined. I’ve seen the Brighton Pier, and thought it would be similar to that.”

  Keith shrugged without adding any further comment to what Penny had said. He made to walk past the Pier itself, without going in.

  “Where are you going?” Penny said.

  “Want me to show you around?” he said, apparently keen to play the tour guide. She was seeing something else in him this morning as if the man she’d picked up beside the road the previous evening was gone and in its place was someone entirely different.

  “If you don’t mind, that would be helpful.” Having a local guide, of sorts, might be fun for a little while. He obviously knew his way around the place. There was a lot more to Keith than she had originally given him credit for. He continued to walk down the street, now away from the Pier. “Aren’t we going inside?” she called, immediately aware of why he wasn’t venturing into the Pier itself. She would have to undo his fear of small spaces if she was going to see anything of real interest this weekend. She could always redo it if he became an annoyance again. I undo Keith’s fear of small spaces she thought quickly to herself.