by John Barlow
And then there’s nothing else. Freddy gets a carrier bag of his bits and pieces from inside the office, gives one last sigh, and he’s heading for the big glass doors for the last time.
“Hey,” John says. “Catch!”
Freddy stops as the doors glide open. He turns just in time to see a set of keys flying towards him. Almost fumbles them, dropping his jacket, but holding onto the keys.
“Lomax’s said they’ll give you sixty percent of the book price,” John says.
Freddy considers the keys in his hand, then glances at the silver Porsche, right outside the doors, as he picks up his jacket.
“You want me to drop it off?”
“It’s yours, you dummy.”
Freddy nods slowly: “Right.”
Connie and John watch as he gets into the Porsche, fires it up, and reverses carefully out onto the road.
“You think he’s gonna trade it in?” John says.
There’s a massive eruption as 3,800cc of German engineering roars to life. And then Freddy is gone, leaving half the rubber of the tyres behind him.
“Not a chance.”
Five minutes later they’re both outside draining the last drops from their tiny coffee cups and smoking. Through the glass they can just make out the music playing inside.
“Gypsy Kings?” he says. “Yeah, it’s good. Oh, and another thing, I’m leaving as well.”
She stops, cigarette halfway to her lips.
“What?”
“Like Freddy,” he adds. “I’m moving on.”
“You? And what am I supposed to do here on my own?”
“You don’t need me. You know that.”
“But it’s half yours.”
“Not any more. It’s yours.”
She shakes her head, infuriated, angry.
“Why?”
He reaches in his pocket for another cigarette, but he’s out. “Dad bought this land with your family’s money. Consider it a debt repaid.”
“Half. I own half.”
He runs a hand through his thick black hair.
“I rebuilt this place after my brother was killed, for all the wrong reasons. But you? You didn’t come here for the wrong reasons, Connie. You came to make a fresh start, to get away from your family. And you did.”
He looks up at the sign above the entrance, his father’s name in lightning-blue neon: Tony Ray’s Motors.
“Second-hand sports cars?” he says. “Yes, it’s a good idea. And another thing, I mean, if you’re in the market for advice, when Detective Sergeant Steele calls, take him up on the offer.”
“What offer?”
“The offer of a drink.”
“And what makes you think…”
“He’s interviewed me three times in the past week, and he’s never shut up about you. A copper’s not a bad choice, y’know. I can vouch for that.”
“I’ll bear it on mind.”
“In mind.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
He looks down Hope Road, sees the White Horse at the end, boarded up now, his dad’s old local, the place his men idled away their lives.
“So what are you going to do?” she asks.
“I’m going home.”
“Where’s that?”
He glances for the last time at his father’s name above the door. The letters distort, merging into one another until all he can see is a confusion of bright light.
“I’ll let you know.”
He makes his way slowly down to the end of the road.
Just around the corner Den is waiting in her old white Astra.
“You ready to go?” she says as he settles in beside her.
“Yep, I’m ready. Got a fag?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ve been thinking of giving up.”
END
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Acknowledgements
For various kinds of help with plot, local details, and reading early drafts, thanks to Maureen Barlow, Stephen Barlow, Claire Gosnel, Felicity Toyles, Christine Barlow, Susana Zas, David Faulkes, Eduardo Alverez, Sam Bridges and David Howes.
For consistently excellent proofreading, thanks to Mike Faulkner.
About the author
John Barlow was born in 1967 in West Yorkshire, England. He left school to become a musician, playing piano and organ in bars and clubs. He then studied English Literature at Cambridge University, followed by a PhD in Language Acquisition at Hull University.
He held teaching posts in a number of universities, before moving to Spain to write full-time, and currently lives in the Galician city of A Coruna with his wife and two sons.
Apart from his own writing, he works as a ghost writer, journalist and translator. He has written for the Washington Post, Slate.com, Penthouse and Departures magazine, among others, and he is a feature writer for award-winning food magazine Spain Gourmetour.
See more at: www.johnbarlow.net
Mailing list: [email protected]
Previous books by John Barlow
Hope Road (novel, John Ray #1) US UK
Islanders (novel for younger readers) UK US
What Ever Happened to Jerry Picco? (novel) US UK
Everything but the Squeal (travel/food) US UK
Intoxicated (novel)
Eating Mammals (3 novellas)
The John Ray / LS9 series
The John Ray novels are about criminals, their families, and their victims.
The Ray family has always been synonymous with crime. Spanish immigrant Antonio ‘Tony’ Ray built up an impressive criminal operation in the north of England after arriving in the UK in the 60s. But now Tony Ray has retired.
John Ray is the younger of Tony Ray’s two sons and the ‘straight’ one of the family. But after witnessing the fatal shooting of his brother Joe, a career criminal, John decides to return home and take-over the family business, a car showroom on the backstreets of Leeds.
The LS9 series follows the lives and careers of those people connected to the Ray family, and will eventually comprise nine novels.
Praise for Hope Road (John Ray #1)
Crime thriller fans, this novel is a must read. Jersey Girl Book Reviews
A gripping read… A fascinating study in dark and evil… The stuff of Great British grit and dark, dark humour… Beautifully cinematic… far more cinematic than a McDermid or a Rankin. Crimefictionlover.com
This book was fantastic!! A wonderful who-done-it!! I am looking forward to the next book in this series. 2ReadOrNot2Read
Barlow throws in plenty of twists… he spins the yarn in fast-paced, very readable prose. HOPE ROAD is a fine novel, the first in a series, and I look forward to reading the others. Rough Edges
I can’t wait for the next book. Hope Road is a fast-paced, exciting novel. Preferred Reading
I loved the story. Little twists and turns and an ending I did not expect. Booketta
A wonderful read which I highly recommend. […] An engrossing story with fascinating and complex characters. The setting is wonderfully portrayed. A tremendously exciting debut and I look forward to more. The Guy with the Glasses
Very highly recommended. Exactly the kind of book I love. And I did love it. Meeka’s Mind
John [Ray] is a great character. Beth Kemp
I enjoyed it tremendously. Not the Baseball Pitcher
I don’t know when I’ve read anything quite so visual. Hope Road would make a great [TV] program. Letters from Hill Farm
A pretty gripping story. The description of the city was great too. Click’s Clan
An intriguing murder mystery from start to finish. Welcome to Tweedling
You’ll be curious to find out where Barlow plans to take John Ray in upcoming installments. Nights and W
eekends
This is an intriguing beginning for author John Barlow […] A strong start. His Futile Preoccupations
Looking forward to reading the next in the series. Today I Did This For Me
Praise for John Barlow’s previous books
A cracking read that’s impossible to put down. Yorkshire Post
Barlow’s imagination appears unlimited, almost attuned to a parallel world. New York Times
John Barlow is back with another story that’s surprising, funny and satisfying… Intoxicated delivers the goods. It’s the real thing. Washington Post
Wonderfully innovative. Magic realism meets Yorkshire pragmatism. Booklist
John Barlow demonstrates a vast love of language and, above all, the ability to tell a riveting yarn. Palm Beach Post
John Barlow is the rare writer who can be playfully inventive, while deeply in touch with literary traditions. Matthew Pearl, author of The Dante Club
Like T.C. Boyle, to whom he has been appropriately compared, Barlow paints personalities in broad strokes… Barlow’s lively imagination will carry along those who appreciate risk-taking fiction. Kirkus
…masterfully written and paced, rich in back story and subplots. At times enthralling and at others heartbreaking… a rewarding novel by a gifted stylist. Charleston Post
Copyright
Copyright © 2013 by John Barlow
Cover design: Stuart Bache
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used merely to add authenticity to the work. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from John Barlow.
