The Blooding Read Free Page A

stories of barroom brawls, and even claimed to have been shot by an Arab terrorist. No one knew what to believe when it came to Eddie Eastwood--who actually had changed his surname in a court of law--which, they said, probably made Eddie Eastwood the leading fan of steely-eyed Clint in all the British Isles.
    Eddie seemed a hard man, but it was mostly bluff. He'd lived his early years in the Braunstone Estates, called "Dodge City" or "The Badlands" by local police. They said he had had some rough chums in the old days, but he was an outgoing friendly sort, and passed many an hour in the pubs playing darts and drinking bitter. Eddie Eastwood was easy to like, and had a reputation as "a good pub mate."
    In July, 1980, when Susan Mann was fourteen and Lynda was twelve, Eddie Eastwood moved in. He married Kath in December, and took his new family to a semi-detached home near Forest Road, by the psychiatric hospital. By The Black Pad footpath.
    Things went very well for the Eastwoods. Eddie earned a fair wage and they lived in a street called The Coppice. They had a small greenhouse, and Eddie built a huge aviary from packing cases. He got so interested in raising and caring for budgerigars that he built yet another aviary, and ended up with seventy-two of the parakeets, along with dogs, cats and guinea pigs for the kids.
    Eddie was working ninety hours a week at Spray-Rite Ltd., "paying double whack" to clear up old bankruptcy debts, yet in his spare time he won trophies, both with his budgies and his darts. The following year, when Eddie was thirty-nine and Kath was thirty-three, they had a bab y g irl and named her Rebecca. Those years were the best they would ever have together.
    Of Kath's older children, Susan was the shy one. "She was a home girl," her mother said. "Much like me, I think."
    Susan had dark-blond hair and eyes as quiet as a spaniel's. She liked to stay at home and play with the animals and birds. She wasn't as attractive or as bright as her younger sister, and seemed aware of it.
    Lynda Mann had little trouble with adolescence. An adventurous girl, she liked everything about growing up: music, hairstyles, makeup, clothes. She got her share of A's and her headmaster at Lutterworth School was pleased with her. When she turned fifteen Lynda talked about being a multilinguist, and practiced her French, German and Italian. She wanted to try Chinese, announcing that she would one day travel the entire world. Her mother didn't doubt for a minute that Lynda would do whatever she set out to do. If money for clothes was a bit short, never mind, Lynda would babysit and earn money and make her own dresses.
    There were a few boys, one in particular, but Lynda was fancy free in 1983, a fifth-former at Lutterworth. She was particularly upbeat that term, growing more fetching every day. Lynda's hair and eyes were very dark but her skin was fair. People referred to the fifteen-year-old as "happy-go-lucky" or "bubbly" or, at the very least, "enthusiastic."
    The weather in November turned bitter and bleak. Monday, the 21st, was predicted to be very cold. When Lynda Mann dressed for school that day she wore tights, form-fitting blue denim jeans with zips at the ankles, a pullover, white socks and black tennis shoes. Before setting foot out the door, she snuggled inside her new donkey jacket with the stand-up collar, and, for good measure, put a warm woolen scarf in her pocket. She walked to Desford Road and traveled to Lutterworth by bus.
    Lynda came home that afternoon on the school bus, but had no time for "swotting," cramming for exams. She had to babysit at 5:00 P . M . for a neighbor near the Copt Oak housing estate. She babysat until 6:20 P . M .
    Supper for Lynda meant plenty of salad cream, which she dumped on practically anything. She and Eddie had a quick meal together, then she changed into a mauve sweatshirt and was off again at 6:45 for another babysitting appointment at the home of Mrs. Walker, a nearby neighbor, who