Y Tŵr Ghost (The Ghost Tower) - The first novel of Inspector Jenkinson

5. Rise and fall of the comeback kid

Two years later I resurfaced in the shadow of Merthyr's Hoover factory drinking myself to death on Cardiff's finest Brains ale. Twenty-five miles north of the Welsh capital city was Merthyr Tydfil, once the shop floor of the valleys big voice. It was the Heads of the Valleys big town that refused to die albeit it was now lacking in capital investment. Now very much on its last legs, much like most of Wales it wasn't giving in. In a chance encounter with Rhiannon Yerward, Sylvie's little sister, I came back to life. Sylvie was now married to Daniel Cosslett with a kid on the way. Rhiannon was hitched too, also had a kid but that had never got in the way of us having a good time back in the days. She was in town on a girls' night out while her hubby was training on Sennelager' ranges in West Germany, with the regular army. Thanks Rhiannon. Another twelve months of therapy and I was cleansed of the beer swilling, unfit, ungentlemanly, cigarette junkie they'd found on the cellar floor of The Dragon's Head.

I was sleeping rough in the shadow of the dead factory inside a bivouac of tarpaulin and pallets. Fire and ovens were made out of tin sweet and biscuit tins, an old car exhaust had been modified into a chimney. I was warm, dry and I lived off the streets. No one bothered me until Rhiannon and her extra-marital bit of stuff tried to used my roof as a shagging centre. There is only so much a man can put up with when he's down and out and someone shagging on your roof is not one of them. Believe me it wasn't funny. Less so when I recognised the humps and grunts coming from above me. My curiosity got the better of me so collecting an old bat I kept for inviting unwanted rats to leave I left my little home to see off my visitors. From her position, with her legs contorted over her shoulders and her panties hang-ing from her feet, I must've looked like some monster for the guy shot off like a scared mongrel with his tail between his legs. The sight of a cricket bat pressing down on his manhood probably speeded him along too. The silence was welcoming and I wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

"Fuck you, you dirty old man, what yer do that for?"

She didn't recognise me, and who could blame her? Rhiannon (I'd called her Rhy as in Rh-ee when we were younger) was pissed off at me.

"To save you from a beating when your hubby catches you."

"Who are you to tell me how to live? I've got family and a home."

"Then go back to your home and your kid, send the baby sitter home and watch an old movie."

"How'd you know if I've got a kid, you been stalking me, you kinky old sod? Maybe I should call the cops, have ya put away."

"Then it'd be just like old times Rhy. Still sharing your womanly charms, I see."

I could see the confusion on her face. The girl I once knew was quickly on her feet pushing down her skirt, regaining her modesty.

"Now begone, leave me to my peace and quiet."

"Fuck you!"

She tottered of towards to Dragon's Head Inn. I turned my back and went back inside my safe home, lit an old stub, and inhaled. Arriving outside the woman who'd sworn back at me earlier put her head between the tarpaulin sheets.

"You gonna invite me in Si? You were never one to leave a lady out in the cold."

Ginny stayed with me that night, after ringing Sylvie and telling the rest of her girlfriends she would find her own way home. Hubby was away for another two weeks on his detachment so she came every day she could. Sylvie appeared in the fifth day.

"I've got to tell Daniel I've found you, he'll notice the difference in me and ask. You know I'll tell him."

Apparently Daniel was coming home from an overseas appointment he'd taken on after the Berlin fiasco. He and Sylvie had been in Hong Kong for almost two years. Sylvie had been home three months now; her husband was due home in another month's time.