again he pointed towards their house. ‘Home – now!’
He saw the frightened look that Linda shot towards Petula, but at least she obeyed him, pushing the pram to number five.
As soon as they went indoors, with Linda struggling to manoeuvre the pram through the house to the back yard, George's temper was let loose. He ran ahead of her into the kitchen, opening a drawer to grab the carving knife.
‘I told you we don't want the fucking thing,’ he yelled as, knife raised, he grabbed the pram, pushing Linda to one side as he sliced at the upholstery, the blade cutting through the material like butter.
Linda's scream was shrill, but George ignored her, the plush grey interior now in ribbons as he continued to slash again and again with the knife.
Pet stood on the pavement, watching George and Linda as they went inside number five. Linda had looked petrified, but surely George wouldn't hurt his wife? Involuntarily she began to walk towards their house, almost at the door when she heard the scream.
For a fraction of a second Pet froze, but then without thought she dashed inside, her eyes widening with horror. ‘George! George, stop it! What are you doing? Stop it!’
He turned, the knife raised, and Pet blanched at the manic look on his face. Linda was white-faced too, rooted to the spot, but Pet knew they had to get out of there. She ran forward to grab Linda's arm.
‘Come on,’ she urged, dragging her outside.
In a few steps they were at Maurice's house. Pet thrust the door open, pushing Linda inside. ‘Maurice! Maurice! George has lost it.’
‘Yeah, I heard the racket.’
Linda swayed and it was Norma who took over, leading her to a chair. She then ran to fetch a glass of water, urging, ‘Here, drink this.’
‘What set George off?’ Maurice asked as he watched his wife attending to Linda.
‘Linda's parents have given her a lovely pram, but for some reason it upset George. I went into their place to find him shredding the inside of it with a knife. We've got to stop him, Maurice.’
Maurice shook his head, his breathing beginning to sound laboured. ‘When George is in one of his moods, it's best to leave him to it.’
‘But the pram!’
‘It's too late to stop him now.’
‘Are you all right, Maurice?’ Norma asked. ‘You're not having another asthma attack, are you?’
Petula had run to the nearest door, but now realised that Maurice would be the last one to intervene. Her father and Danny were out, and that only left Bob, but he wouldn't want to interfere either.
‘Pet, take Linda down to your mother's,’ Norma ordered. ‘George wouldn't dare kick off there.’
Pet could see that Maurice was now gasping for air, but Linda looked awful too, her face deadly white.
‘All right, we'll go,’ Pet agreed, ‘but I'll have to make sure we're in the clear first.’
‘Listen, love, I don't want you hurt,’ Maurice gasped, ‘so be careful.’
Pet gingerly opened the door, stuck her head outside and then beckoned Linda. ‘Come on, there's no sign of George.’
Linda looked terrified but rose to her feet. Taking her hand, both of them ran to number one.
Only moments later there was a knock on Maurice's door and he gasped with fear, but it was Bob who walked in.
‘I've just seen Pet and Linda dashing past. What's going on?’ he asked.
‘George is kicking off,’ Norma told him. ‘Pet brought Linda in here but I told her to take the girl to her own house.’
‘Is Pet all right?’
‘Yes, but she's frightened of George and I don't blame her.’
‘What set him off?’
Norma told him, ending with, ‘Your brother's a bloody menace. Linda looked terrified … Pet too, and look at Maurice.’
‘Not another asthma attack! Come on, Maurice, there's no need to get in a state. You know George. He'll be all right once he's gone off the boil.’
Maurice could only nod, whilst Norma bristled with anger. ‘I've had just about enough for one day so he'd better not come knocking on our
He saw the frightened look that Linda shot towards Petula, but at least she obeyed him, pushing the pram to number five.
As soon as they went indoors, with Linda struggling to manoeuvre the pram through the house to the back yard, George's temper was let loose. He ran ahead of her into the kitchen, opening a drawer to grab the carving knife.
‘I told you we don't want the fucking thing,’ he yelled as, knife raised, he grabbed the pram, pushing Linda to one side as he sliced at the upholstery, the blade cutting through the material like butter.
Linda's scream was shrill, but George ignored her, the plush grey interior now in ribbons as he continued to slash again and again with the knife.
Pet stood on the pavement, watching George and Linda as they went inside number five. Linda had looked petrified, but surely George wouldn't hurt his wife? Involuntarily she began to walk towards their house, almost at the door when she heard the scream.
For a fraction of a second Pet froze, but then without thought she dashed inside, her eyes widening with horror. ‘George! George, stop it! What are you doing? Stop it!’
He turned, the knife raised, and Pet blanched at the manic look on his face. Linda was white-faced too, rooted to the spot, but Pet knew they had to get out of there. She ran forward to grab Linda's arm.
‘Come on,’ she urged, dragging her outside.
In a few steps they were at Maurice's house. Pet thrust the door open, pushing Linda inside. ‘Maurice! Maurice! George has lost it.’
‘Yeah, I heard the racket.’
Linda swayed and it was Norma who took over, leading her to a chair. She then ran to fetch a glass of water, urging, ‘Here, drink this.’
‘What set George off?’ Maurice asked as he watched his wife attending to Linda.
‘Linda's parents have given her a lovely pram, but for some reason it upset George. I went into their place to find him shredding the inside of it with a knife. We've got to stop him, Maurice.’
Maurice shook his head, his breathing beginning to sound laboured. ‘When George is in one of his moods, it's best to leave him to it.’
‘But the pram!’
‘It's too late to stop him now.’
‘Are you all right, Maurice?’ Norma asked. ‘You're not having another asthma attack, are you?’
Petula had run to the nearest door, but now realised that Maurice would be the last one to intervene. Her father and Danny were out, and that only left Bob, but he wouldn't want to interfere either.
‘Pet, take Linda down to your mother's,’ Norma ordered. ‘George wouldn't dare kick off there.’
Pet could see that Maurice was now gasping for air, but Linda looked awful too, her face deadly white.
‘All right, we'll go,’ Pet agreed, ‘but I'll have to make sure we're in the clear first.’
‘Listen, love, I don't want you hurt,’ Maurice gasped, ‘so be careful.’
Pet gingerly opened the door, stuck her head outside and then beckoned Linda. ‘Come on, there's no sign of George.’
Linda looked terrified but rose to her feet. Taking her hand, both of them ran to number one.
Only moments later there was a knock on Maurice's door and he gasped with fear, but it was Bob who walked in.
‘I've just seen Pet and Linda dashing past. What's going on?’ he asked.
‘George is kicking off,’ Norma told him. ‘Pet brought Linda in here but I told her to take the girl to her own house.’
‘Is Pet all right?’
‘Yes, but she's frightened of George and I don't blame her.’
‘What set him off?’
Norma told him, ending with, ‘Your brother's a bloody menace. Linda looked terrified … Pet too, and look at Maurice.’
‘Not another asthma attack! Come on, Maurice, there's no need to get in a state. You know George. He'll be all right once he's gone off the boil.’
Maurice could only nod, whilst Norma bristled with anger. ‘I've had just about enough for one day so he'd better not come knocking on our
Similar Books
