The First Cut by Trevor Negus

Author:Trevor Negus [Negus, Trevor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

45

4.30 p.m., 3 February 1991

20 Western Avenue, Mansfield, Nottinghamshire

Mark slowed his car to a stop outside the property on Western Avenue. This would be the fifth house he had visited since he started his search.

After leaving Newark he had driven straight to Mansfield. His thoughts on that journey had been consumed by the parting words of Ray Stevens, but the urge to track the man down who could be his brother was too strong to resist.

When he arrived in Mansfield, he stopped at the first public telephone box he saw. Even though the handset had been smashed and was hanging by one exposed wire, the phone directory was still on the shelf.

He had quickly scanned the pages until he found the listings under Stevens and Stephens. When he saw how many names were listed just under those two surnames, he cursed himself for not asking Ray the correct spelling of his surname.

He had carefully ripped out the pages for those two surnames and started the laborious process of visiting every address listed. He had started with the entries for C. Stevens, of which there were twelve.

It was starting to get dark and, when he glanced down the driveway leading to the house, he could see there was already a light on.

As he walked towards the front door wondering what he was going to say to this man, who was his brother, his mind was in turmoil.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently.

When there was no answer, he knocked again.

A woman’s voice said timidly, ‘Who is it?’

‘My name’s Mark Bradbury, I’m sorry to disturb you. I wanted to talk to Craig Stevens if he’s home.’

There was a long pause before the woman said, ‘Craig’s not here; he’s away right now. Why do you need to speak to him?’

‘It’s a long story,’ Mark said carefully. ‘Would you mind opening the door?’

‘You’ll have to come back tomorrow. It’s getting dark now and I don’t know you from Adam.’

‘I understand. What time would be best for you?’

‘I don’t know. In the morning, around eleven.’

‘Okay. I’ll come back then. There’s nothing to worry about and I promise I won’t take up much of your time.’

The woman didn’t answer, so it was with a real sense of frustration that he walked slowly back to his car.

As he drove away, he pondered on the woman’s words: he’s away right now. He wondered where he might have gone, and why. Was he still in the army? Had he been posted overseas?

Feeling a little more positive, he screwed up the pages of the telephone directory and hurled them on the backseat. At least he now knew where Craig Stevens had been living and, hopefully, if he got to speak with the woman properly tomorrow, he would get some answers.

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