A Fitting Revenge

Later, after the day’s discussions had given the other part of my brain a chance to think more rationally about events, I drove home in a calmer manner than in the morning. Cloud cover had begun to creep across the sky at about midday, gradually reducing the sun from a bright ghost behind a translucent screen to an unobtrusive and dimmer source of light. The ceiling dropped lower and lower as I drove and it was obvious that a stormy night was in store. By the time I was home, dark rolls of cloud were tumbling over and over in the rising wind, and the slab sided Defender rocked to every gust.
I put my key to the lock, but stopped short. My heart accelerated, thumping. My mouth went dry. I had locked the front door when I left, now it was almost closed. Almost, just half an inch of the jamb was showing. It open slowly and quietly to a gentle push. No sound could be heard over the storm and the odd creak from the old house. Precious little light entered through the small windows from that darkening sky; it was impossible to make out any detail in the room. I stood motionless until my eyes adjusted, the door pulled to behind me, listening for the slightest odd sound amidst the patter of the rain on the tiles and the rumble of the weather rolling in.
Every drawer and cupboard door was open, the contents strewn over the floor. Chair cushions had been ripped open and tossed to the side, one chair was on its back, the TV was on the floor, but intact. The kitchen did not look as if it had been touched. All this I took in at a glance. Was he still here? That was vital. Anger tried to surface. I forced it down; emotion could wait. I quietly crossed the room to my office. It was trashed. Files were ripped open and paper lay everywhere. Sellotape, scissors, paper clips and pens were strewn across the floor. The bookshelf had been tipped over, and my laptop had been given a stomping.
Lighting flashed, illuminating the room for a second, the devastation stark. An immediate crack of thunder showed how close the strike had been. The shock was distracting, but a little noise behind me wasn’t right. A rustle of clothes, a breath close by, I don’t know, but it shouldn’t have been there. I ducked and turned. Something clipped my ear and glanced off my left shoulder dropping me to the floor. A broad, dark, hooded figure stood over me, a jemmy high above his head, the curved end silhouetted by the window. It swept down again, seemingly in slow motion. I rolled away just in time. It thudded into the floor. It went up above his head for the next blow. He wasn’t going to miss again. Hooking my left foot behind his to jam it, I stabbed at the front of his knee with my right one. He grunted in pain and fell over backwards. I tried to get up, but my shoulder wouldn’t support the move. I rolled over to use the other side, but he had already clambered to his feet and run out, limping heavily.
He half ran and half hopped down the drive, disappearing in the rain before he reached the gate. He was in no state to continue the fight, thank goodness; I certainly wasn’t. The whole episode had probably lasted no more than ten seconds, less, but it felt an age. Talking of age, I poured an twelve year old malt down my throat and then added a touch of water to the next one.

Alastair is helping his close friend to avoid a punishing divorce. Drawn into a situation which he battles to control, he finds his relationship with Juliet has been ripped apart. Do we really know what we’re capable of when pushed to our limits?
Born in England, Colin was brought up in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe and Zambia). On leaving school, he was a member of the third party ever to climb the Credna glacier to reach Mount Kilimanjaro’s summit from the west.

Jetdriver: Betrayal, intrigue, fraud, a sprinkling of violence and a deliciously salacious villainess are pitted against the story's two main protagonists in this compelling yarn of friendship, love and manipulation. The multitude of ingredients could have been overpowering but instead ended up resulting in a well seasoned page turner of a crime thriller. A great debut novel and I suspect not the last we've seen of the charismatic and morally compromised Mr. Forbes.
Really quite enjoyed it!
Robert: I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway. A Fitting Revenge was a captivating mystery/thriller that kept me guessing throughout. Showing just what man is capable of when pushed to the breaking point. 4 stars...
Pierrette: Great book. Took it with me on holiday and could hardly put it down. Lots of suspense, It is one of those books you cannot put down. The characters of the story are very attaching and you wander all along your reading what will happen to them....you worry. In a few words, very good thriller, read it, you will love it.