Somewhere to Hide (The Estate, Book 1) Read Free Page A

I can’t go down Stanley Avenue without getting accosted by mother, father, sister or grandmother.’
    Josie Mellor was thirty-six and had been at Mitchell Housing Association for seventeen years. She’d started out working on the main reception at their head office in Stockleigh before moving over to work on the estate. Even though she was small in stature and didn’t look like she was capable of standing up for herself in any type of sticky situation, she’d been a housing officer for the past seven years. More recently, she’d been splitting her hours between ongoing cases and working in the community house set up by one of the residents’ associations. 
     ‘Then she came home drunk again last week,’ Cathy continued, ‘making all kinds of noise. Archie Meredith was over like a shot the next morning. Honestly, I have more visitors than Crewe Station. It’s pathetic. And they never see the good in anyone. They should try looking in a mirror once in a while.’
    Josie smiled her gratitude. ‘What would this estate do without you, Cathy Mason? You are one special lady.’
    ‘Stop trying to get on my good side. I know you’re buttering me up for something. What brings you to my humble abode so early in the morning, anyway? I haven’t seen much of you lately.’
    Josie tucked shoulder-length mousey hair behind her ears. ‘I need a favour,’ she replied.
    Cathy raised her eyebrows.
    ‘Okay, okay. I need another favour. Remember when I asked you, oh, some time last year, if you’d be able to take on a woman with a young child, when she was ready to admit defeat?’
    ‘Bloody hell, that was some months ago.’
    ‘Liz McIntyre came to see me yesterday. She was in a right mess and had the remnants of some pretty nasty bruises. I’ve put her and her daughter up in a hostel overnight but I was wondering…’
    Liz McIntyre was one of Josie’s tenants that she suspected was being abused by her husband. Several times, Liz’s neighbour had rung showing concern over the goings-on next door. Several times, Josie had visited Liz only to be told to mind her own business. But over the past couple of months, Josie’s visits had become more frequent.
    ‘And she’s after somewhere to stay?’ Cathy questioned.
    Josie took a sip of her drink before nodding. ‘It’s only until I can fix her up with a place of her own. But it’s better than her returning to him, which I know she will do if she has to stay in the hostel.’ She paused before continuing. ‘I’d feel so much better knowing that she has somewhere safe to stay. I’ve already asked her to move away, maybe to another area, but she won’t leave the estate. I know I can trust you to look out for her and her daughter, Chloe. She’s only eight. And you have room at the moment, don’t you?’
    When her husband, Rich, died three years ago, Cathy’s life had changed dramatically. Dragged up through her childhood, her marriage had been unstable, sometimes to the brink of nasty and back, but Rich had grounded her with his love.
    She’d been thirty-six when it happened. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was made redundant the month after and again six months later with the next job. Around that time, her friend’s daughter, Nicola, came to stay. She wasn’t getting on with her parents at home so it was a good idea all round. They had peace, quiet and assurance; Cathy had someone to look after, company in a quiet house. It hadn’t all been fun: some of it was hard work. Nicola’s mood swings were volatile but when she was happy, Cathy had enjoyed her company. Once Nicola felt able to return home and try again, Cathy decided to see if there was any kind of fostering she could do involving younger, perhaps vulnerable, women. It hadn’t been easy but Josie managed to persuade the right people and she hadn’t looked back. It had given her something to work at; something she was good at; something to ease the pain. Her eyes welled up with tears.
    ‘Don’t