Chapter 2
Jogging through the leaf covered park Mark Collins stopped to do some exercises on the moulded metal apparatus. Grabbing the ice-cold bar he exhaled, his breath causing a mist.
After twenty pull-ups he dropped back down to the concrete and patted the thick-set bull-mastiff which looked up at him expectantly. Looking at his watch he started jogging again.
Reaching the end of the park he stopped, watching where the dark sky was becoming streaked with flashes of light. A milk-float clinkered past and Mark watched it go thoughtfully.
Five foot ten, mousy hair, brown eyes, size nine feet, thirty-two inch waist and of average build. Not an ugly bloke but no strong distinguishing features.
Mr Average.
Walking up the hill towards home he stopped at the newsagents.
A bespectacled man in his late fifties was setting out the newspapers, looking round he smiled,
"Morning Mark.
"Morning Jonathan.
The older man nodded towards the till,
"Your papers are already on the counter.
He walked over,
"Cheers. Where's Elsie?
The shopkeeper rolled his eyes skywards,
"Oh gone to visit her sister.
Mark laughed as he scooped up a carton of milk and loaf of bread, placing them on the counter alongside the papers.
As the newsagent started typing into the till he yawned.
"Late night?
"Bloody kids, shaking his head the shopkeeper continued, "outside till all hours, tried breaking in a couple of nights ago.
"Yeah?
"Yeah they did, I didn't even bother to phone the police, what's the point, they never do anything anyway.
"I know what you mean.
"It's true though isn't it, it's got worse, all this trouble used to be in the cities but now it's everywhere. It's the parents I blame. Anyway that'll be four eighty six.
Walking up the road Mark reflected on his own younger years, were the youth of today any worse than he'd been? He'd never known his dad and his mum was an outcast from her family as a result of falling pregnant after a one-night stand. She'd committed suicide when he was eight.
From then he'd been brought up in care homes.
There had been a few scrapes with the law but nothing serious.
He could have gone either way until an ex-soldier working in one of the homes had planted the seed that saw him turn his back on skulduggery.
"You oughta join the army son, bit of discipline, it'll do you good.
At first he'd laughed but the more he thought about it the idea began to appeal to him. The only other life that looked on the cards was a lifetime of being in and out of prison.
Arriving outside the small red brick house Mark let the dog of its leash and pushed open the back gate. Inside his wife, Maureen looked over from feeding the baby and smiled,
"Morning love, kettle's just boiled.
Leaning over he kissed her,
"Morning, I'll have a cup of tea.
Sitting down at the breakfast bar he pulled a face at the baby who giggled. Then opening the paper he scanned the pages for any news on the wars in the Middle-East,
"Where's Bella?
"Still in bed, it is only six thirty.
Grunting Mark returned his attention to the paper.
