Guilty by Conrad Jones

Author:Conrad Jones [Jones, Conrad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2018-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

11

Phil Coombes opened another Stella and took a mouthful. Everyone who knew him called him Coombes. Only his mother called him Phil, and he hardly spoke to her. The rest of his family hadn’t been in touch for years. There was that thing with his cousin, Susan, when they were teenagers. In truth, he was a teenager at the time and she was twelve. They had been mucking around and he went a bit too far. She’d told his Uncle Adam that he had fingered her, but it was only in there for a few seconds before she’d started balling the fucking house down, and that was that. The family had imploded, his uncle had threatened to call the police, and he and his mother had never heard from them again. Looking back, he wondered if that was where his hatred of paedophiles had developed from. Coombes didn’t see himself as a paedo because there had only been two years between him and Susan. They were both kids, playing doctors and nurses, and he had been a little bit too adventurous for her liking. That hardly made him a paedo, did it? He wasn’t like the dirty perverts he hunted today. They are grown men, purposely grooming youngsters to have sex with; that is very different. He wondered, if he could have explained the difference to his Uncle Adam over a few pints, whether things might have been different. He had been dead for five years, so it was academic, but he did think about it a lot.

Fuck ’em. He raised one cheek from the camping chair and farted loudly.

‘Get out and walk,’ he chuckled to himself.

The canal side was empty. He had seen one cyclist, and another couple of fishermen since arriving three hours ago. That was how he liked it. There were a few fishermen closer to the car park, but Coombes liked to walk along the towpath for about half a mile, to a secluded spot where overhanging trees made shadows on the murky water. That’s where the fish liked to hide. There was a tow bridge across the water so he could change sides when the sun moved. There were no canal boats on The Hotties; it was a stretch that had been unused for decades since the coal mines closed. It was a solitary pastime but he enjoyed the isolation. He was awkward in company and struggled to fit in. People found him abrasive and stand-offish, but the truth was he didn’t really like people, so it didn’t matter. He was happy in his own company. If he was honest, he would have liked to have had more relationships with females, but they didn’t like him either. He was a misogynist, and genuinely believed his girlfriends should cook, clean, be willing to give blow jobs whenever, and like it up the bum when the fancy took him – the women in the films he had watched since he was a teenager did. He couldn’t fathom

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