Neighbours From Hell : DCI Miller 2: The gripping Manchester thriller with a killer twist

by Steven Suttie

  “What’s in it for us?” laughed Noel.

  “What’s in it for you, you cocky little shit, is that you’ll hopefully keep your house!”

  “I’ll stay outside mum, if that’s alright. I’ll just hang about in JD and that, text me when you’ve finished.” Said Liam.

  Rachel nodded. “Yeah, fair enough love. Alright. Don’t be going too far though, and keep your phone on.” She knew that Liam was getting a bit too old to be seen hanging around the council offices. Kids get picked on for anything nowadays, she thought.

  “In a bit!” muttered Liam as he strutted off towards the shopping centre.

  “Aw no way! I want to as well!” Britney looked as though she was about to start one of her sulks.

  “No love, I want you to come in with me. I’ll have to start crying and I need you to say “Don’t cry mum” and pass me a tissue, and rub my back a bit.”

  “Fair enough.” Britney looked quite pleased that she had a purpose in the meeting.

  “In fact, it would be amazing if you could cry too, and say you’re sick of seeing me crying all the time.” Added Rachel, determined to go in and make heavy weather of the situation.

  “Yeah, no worries, as long as I can go to the bogs after and sort my eye-liner out before we leave?” asked Britney, suddenly feeling quite empowered by the responsibility that had been handed to her.

  “Cheers love. Are you alright Shania?” asked Rachel of her youngest, who was stood amongst the small group by the bus station entrance, looking quite fed up.

  “Yes, I’m alright.” She said in her cute little voice. Rachel rubbed her shoulder gently.

  “Alright, well, once we’ve got sorted in here, we’re meeting your dad and we’re having tea out as a special treat.” Said Rachel. The children were instantly excited.

  “Yes!” hissed Noel.

  “McDonalds!” suggested Shania, this news had perked her up dramatically.

  “K.F.C. It’s got to be!” shouted Noel.

  “No, we’re having a posh tea, so best behaviour. Your dad’s taking us to Wetherspoons. So you’d better be good or you’ll be given a bag of chips to share on the bench outside! And I’m not even joking.”

  Rachel pulled on the handle of the huge glass door and held the door open while her children walked through into the familiar surroundings of the Town Hall offices.

  “Hiya,” said Rachel as she approached the glass window where the receptionist greeted her with a tilted head and a plastic smile. “Is there anybody available in the Housing? Preferably Daniel or Nicole?” Rachel smiled as she spoke to the lady behind the glass.

  “Do you have an appointment? The department does work on an allocated appointments basis you see.” Explained the receptionist, her eyes were dead, her heart just wasn’t in it, but the smile remained.

  “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t got an appointment, but it’s urgent actually. So if you could just ring up and see if anybody is available, that would be great.” Rachel knew that any of the housing staff would be happy to speak to her. If she wasn’t talking to them none stop about her own domestic situation, she was on first name terms with everybody in the department through her Citizens Advice Bureau work.

  “I can ask, but you should really have booked an appointment, they might all be in meetings. What’s your name please?”

  “Rachel Birdsworth. It is urgent. Thanks.”

  The receptionist pressed some buttons on her desk and held the phone to her ear, trying to look very important. After a few seconds, she began speaking into the telephone. “Hello, it’s Barbara on front desk, hiya. I’ve got a lady in reception who wants to speak to somebody urgently. No, she hasn’t got an appointment but she says that Daniel or Nicole will know what it’s about…”

  “Anybody will,” pleaded Rachel, through the glass. “Just tell them my name, it’s Rachel Birdsworth.”

  “Yes, she’s called Rachel Birdsworth,” said the receptionist into the phone, while staring off into the distance. “Okay, I’ll tell her, thank you.” After placing the phone down on its cradle, Barbara looked at Rachel and announced that somebody would be down shortly to see her. Rachel and the children were sent to sit on the chairs in the waiting room.

  After five minutes or so, Daniel Parker, one of the housing officers walked across and greeted the family.

  “Hello, are you alright guys?” he asked, surprised to see them back here so soon after being given a new property. Daniel had been involved with the family’s rehousing requirements since the fire, and had got to know them all quite well.

  “Aw, Dan, hiya. Thanks for coming down, I know I didn’t have an appointment.”

  “Don’t worry about it – you’ve got me out of checking accounts for late rent, that’s all the management care about - so I’m really grateful to be honest. Anyway, come on, we’ll grab an empty room and you can tell me how it’s going. I’m dying to know what you think of the house!” Dan smiled as he held open the door for Shania, Britney and Noel. They wandered past him into a large open office area that was full of serious looking people tapping on computer keyboards or talking into phones.

  “Thanks Dan.” Rachel followed her children and entered the offices.

  “Right, no probs, just go in that little room there on the left. Yeah, that’s it, just pull the door Britney.”

  It took five minutes for Rachel to fill Dan in with all of the details of the family’s experience over the previous two days, from arriving at the house, to having the lady from across the road climbing over her fence and begging for shelter.

  “In ten years at the old house, we never had any trouble at our door. We’ve been here ten minutes and we’re wondering what’s going to happen next. I’m scared Dan. If we get reported by anybody, we’re finished. If he’s prepared to make stories up – it’s just too risky.”

  Dan looked really concerned. He hadn’t for one moment considered that the new tenants up on Haughton Park would be in any danger of the home-owners causing them any aggravation. But now that Rachel was here, explaining the situation, it became obvious that this should have been anticipated.

  “We’ve got a set of rules there that are like bloody, I don’t know, a mental home and if we set one foot wrong, we’re out on our rear! So I just want us to go back to the caravan Dan. We can just wait a bit longer in there for a house.”

  “Aw, no way mum, are you being serious?” asked Britney, the look of horror at this suggestion was the most genuine expression that Rachel had seen on her daughter’s face for a very long time.

  “No way mum! That’s proper snide that,” replied Noel. Shania began to cry and Rachel put her arm around her youngest.

  “Aw, come on love, don’t cry. It’s for the best. We can manage a bit longer in the van, we’ve come this far!” Rachel was filling up too, but was trying to fight the tears. She hadn’t said everything that she wanted to get off her chest yet.

  Dan looked at the family, he was wearing an unusually serious expression, and blew out a massive gust of air. “Well, guys, I’m in shock. I really am. You lot were chosen to go up there because we know you, we know what a good family you are. We have only re-housed people that we are really confident about on the development. This is unbelievable really. I’m going to have to speak to my superiors, and I’ll have to speak to the developers as well, we need to get this sorted. Can you hang on a few minutes while I just pop upstairs?”

  Rachel was still fighting back tears as she replied. “Dan, there’s no point. I don’t want to be put in any danger of not getting a proper house. We’re being treated like the scum of the earth, just because we don’t earn enough money to buy our own house. How can people be so judgemental?”

  “Well, please, Rachel. Just stay here a minute.” Dan stood and placed a comforting hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “We never anticipated this. I need to ask for some assistance with this. Hang on here.” Dan stood and bolted out of the little room. Rachel felt the tears begin to loosen and slide down her fa
ce. She was hugging Shania close, rocking in her chair and rubbing her back gently.

  “I’ve got to make a big deal about these problems we’ve been having. I don’t think we’ll end up at the caravan, but I’m just watching our backs. I know it doesn’t seem like it. But I’m just watching out for us all, right?” Rachel was talking quietly, but the emotion was clear in her voice.

  “Don’t want to go back in that caravan mum, it’s rank.” Said Noel, he too looked close to tears. Rachel leant across and put her arm around him.

  “Well, hopefully, that guy over the road will pipe down and buck up his ideas once these lot have had a word. But like I have said all the time, a proper house could come up at anytime, on the old estate, so we’re only temporary in the big posh house anyway. We all knew that, didn’t we?”

  The kids nodded, and it was clear that they didn’t like the idea of leaving the new house at any time.

  The door opened, and Dan reappeared. He had brought a colleague with him, another officer who was well known to the family.

  “Hiya Rachel, hi guys,” said Nicole. “Dan’s just told me briefly. We’re going to go up there tomorrow and sort this out. Now, please don’t worry about going back to the caravan, it’s not going to be an option.”

  Noel and Britney raised a fist and said “yesss” as though it was a well rehearsed and choreographed move.

  “Thanks Nicole, but if that guy who owns the estate says we’re out – that’s the end of the road for us, so we really need it sorting out properly.” It was clear from the state of Rachel’s make up that she’d been crying. Nicole looked genuinely sympathetic. She knew Rachel well enough to know that she wasn’t a trouble causer.

  “Don’t worry, it will be sorted properly. It’s us who are doing the developers the favour you know, not the other way round. We’ll get onto this first thing in the morning. And thanks so much for coming in to see us about it. This was supposed to be a really happy time for you lot, after all that time in the caravan,” said Nicole. “Don’t pay it any more thought – we’ll sort it out tomorrow.” Nicole was lovely, as was Dan, and they had been really good with Rachel and the family. It was moving for Rachel to see how seriously they were treating her concerns.

  “Thanks, honestly. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry all day you know.”

  “You don’t know what number house it is, do you?” asked Dan.

  “I think it’s number nine. But it’s the one straight facing us. He was stood, staring at us the minute we turned up with the van on Saturday. It was like he’d been waiting for us. And he started trying to abuse us on Saturday night, when the other neighbours had shut the door on him. He’s not right, honestly.”

  “Right. I think we’ve heard enough haven’t we Dan?” asked Nicole. “We’ll do some digging, and I’ll give you a phone tomorrow Rachel, alright?”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate how supportive you’ve been.” Said Rachel as she left the little room, with her children in tow. As she made her way out of the building, and back towards the bus station, she wondered whether she had been right to avoid mentioning Kev and Tania’s visit, and the threat that they had made about teaching Graham a lesson. The thought troubled her as she wondered just what kind of hassle Kev had planned. But straight away, another thought about what happens to grasses crossed her mind too. It was a dead end, and it was best to forget about it. The foundations were laid, at least she’d had the opportunity to put her side of the story across, and she felt confident that they had taken her concerns seriously. All in all, it was a very good meeting.

  “Come on, let’s go and meet your dad. His bus will be here any minute.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Around at number twenty, Kev and Tania’s fifteen year old son Brett had been given the very simple but important task in what his father had been referring to as “the warning.”

  Brett’s objective was to stand near the front door, and watch for the neighbour who had disrespected his father to arrive home. Once the neighbour arrived and went inside his house, Brett’s simple chore was to update his Facebook status with the words “God I’m starving and all there is in the house to eat is peanut butter and a mouldy fucking pitta bread!”

  This simple message would alert Kev that it was time to post his own Facebook message, which read, “Are Brett’s moaning that there’s nowt to eat. Should have come with us to Little India for tea! Ha ha #dickhead” The message ended with a check - in tag to the famous Rusholme restaurant, six miles east of Haughton Park.

  That seemingly innocent message was the red light for Graham Ashworth’s “warning” to commence, whilst also providing a watertight alibi for Kev and Tania’s movements while the incident took place.

  Within minutes of Kev’s status update, a silver Vauxhall Astra containing four black-hat wearing men pulled up outside Graham and Suzanne’s house. They got out, and walked straight over to the front door, rolling down the hats, turning them into balaclavas, and stretching them over their faces as they reached the door.

  Bing Bong.

  One of them had pressed the bell. Within seconds, Suzanne answered the door and was thrown to the floor by the force of the door being shoved open violently. The men followed inside and the last of the group closed the door very calmly behind himself as two of the raiders began wrapping duct tape around Suzanne’s wrists, clasping them together, and also placing a piece over her mouth. She was quickly pushed into the lounge, and thrown onto the sofa. It had all happened so quickly and quietly, that Graham Ashworth was taken completely by surprise as he stepped through from the kitchen to see who was at the door.

  “Right, that’s him,” said one of the masked men, as he ran over and shoved Graham violently against the wall by the staircase. Graham went down straight away, offering nothing of a fight. The three masked men began kicking and punching him as he lay curled up in a ball. He was screaming, pleading for them to stop. He was getting kicks to his body, arms and legs, while the occasional blow got through to his face which was being protected by his curled up arms and hands.

  One of the men was standing guard over Suzanne in the lounge. She couldn’t see anything that was happening, but she could certainly hear the violence that was being delivered, and her husband’s pitiful screams and pleas for mercy. She was shaking uncontrollably, but not crying. This was just too unbelievable and she was in a state of deep shock. The man who was stood over her kept his finger up to his mouth, and stared directly at her throughout the ordeal.

  Within no time, the punching, kicking and struggling sounds had stopped. The noise in the hall had ceased. It was completely silent, but for Graham’s whimpers. A masked man appeared at the doorway to the lounge.

  “Are you right?” he asked.

  “Done?” asked the man who had been stood over Suzanne.

  “Yeah, we’re done. He’ll fuckin’ die or summat if we carry on. He’s a big fat fuckin’ shitbag.”

  “Yeah, I know. Look at his bird’s black eye.”

  “Fuckin’ hell is that his bird? You’re too good for that knob-head love, you need to fuck him off. Right, come on, time to bounce.”

  The masked man walked calmly past Suzanne, stepped out into the hall way and started making a strange “pssst” noise as the remaining men marched out of the house. The noise continued for fifteen seconds or maybe longer and Suzanne was desperate to jump up off the sofa and investigate it, but she was frozen rigid with fear. She just couldn’t move.

  Suddenly, the strange hissing noise stopped and the man spoke.

  “Can you hear me mate?” he asked.

  Suzanne heard Graham snivel and reply with a simple, tearful “yes.”

  “Right, well sort your fucking head out, or we’ll be back, and we’ll set your big ugly head on fire. You’ve been warned, right. Don’t get the police involved yeah. If you need hospital, say you fell down the stairs. Did you understand that?”

  “Yes,” whimpered Graham.

  “Alright, no pro
blem. See you now.”

  With that, the man walked out very quietly and closed the door menacingly quietly behind him as he left. A second or two passed before Suzanne heard a car door close and a vehicle pull away from outside the house.

  At that moment, the full terror of the past unimaginable minute or so hit her with overwhelming force, and she began trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. She managed to pull the tape off her mouth and tried her best to wriggle her wrists free of the tape. She couldn’t break free. Whimpering, she tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight, they felt like jelly. It took her a good minute to compose herself and try again to stand. Graham was weeping and gargling, it sounded as though he was in great pain, and she wanted desperately to go and see if he was okay. She wanted to comfort her husband, she was scared by the sounds that he was making, and had absolutely no idea what state she would find him in. The violence that he had been served had sounded vicious and relentless. Through all of the jumbled up emotions; horror, shock, outrage and delirious thoughts about what had just happened - her main confusion was about why.

  Was it a case of mistaken identity? It must have been. Graham wasn’t involved in anything like drugs or money lending. He never came into contact with the kind of people who behaved in this way anymore. It was all just too extraordinary, too unbelievable to take in and despite the fact that her hands were fastened together with tape, and her husband was wheezing and gargling in a ball in the hallway, it was all too surreal to comprehend.

  “Suzanne,” whimpered Graham. “Suzanne, are you… hurt?” he managed to ask, it sounded as though he was having difficulty talking. “Suzanne?”

  Suzanne was frozen. She was sitting on the sofa, just staring out of the window, staring at nothing, shaking violently. She could smell something strange, it was like pear drop sweets.