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   Chapter 25 No.25

Sheryl's Last Stand By Kerrie Noor Characters: 4944

Updated: 2018-02-07 12:01

'You ready yet, Sheryl?' yelled Beatrice. 'Come on, we are making good time!'

Flogging a dead horse sprung to Steven's mind.

Beatrice sighed and pushed a Neil Diamond CD into the player, Red red wine ...go to my head.


Beatrice turned the volume up.

'all I can do I've done but the memories won't go my blue blue heart, Red red's up to you ...'

Sheryl sighed and opened a can of Red Bull. She thought of all the hangovers she had had over the years, all the wasted days, all those evening when she had conversations with herself in front of the bathroom mirror, and now look at her, in front of nice man Steven, and bloody Neil Diamond. Oh Bugger it, she thought. There has got to something better than this.

Beatrice tooted the horn. 'Come on, girl, what are you waiting for?' she yelled.

Sheryl sipped her Red Bull and began to ponder on Johnston. 'Bugger it, ' she said again.

'red red wine ...don't let me be alone.'

'Come on, Sheryl, Oban awaits us.'

'I don't think so!' said one of the two policemen as they walked across to Beatrice.

Beatrice let out a sigh and turned the music off just as Neil Diamond got to his blue blue heart again.

Their names were Gordon Rathbone and Roy Cocolder.

Rathbone was the taller of the two by at least half a foot, he had a kindly face and a small puff of bum fluff on his chin. However, it was Cocolder who did most of the talking; Roy Cocolder was a man with leadership qualities, a

w how fast you were going?' said Rathbone.

Beatrice looked at her nails. 'Well, I... think... speed is good for a car.' Her voice trailed away.

'Are you not aware of a speed limit then?' Cocolder's fingers drummed on the top of the car.

'Of course!' Beatrice said.

'And you, ' he gestured towards Nefertiti.

Nefertiti smiled sweetly. 'I am an artist, a belly dancer.'


'So what's his work like then?' said Conway, driving through Lochgilphead.

'Nobody has seen it except Rodger and the framer; Mackintosh of MacTosser.'

'MacTosser?' asked Conway.

'Ahuh, ' said Chubby, who went on to describe a man who hated paying for anything. 'MacTosser is the sort of guy who would short-change his mother, ' said Chubby. 'He's tried it on with every shop in the area, and whenever he gets caught, he just tosses the rest of the cash over the counter.' Conway almost smiled. 'He used to be an artist, ' she continued, 'painted nudes, mainly men, never sold many.'

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