The recognisable plump figures of Dolly Smith and Doris Musgrove were on the corner of Tulip Crescent next to the boarded up house. Sixteen stone Dolly was dressed in her usual brown.
"Fancy there being a gas leak at the ox roast last night," Dolly said, thinking she had one up on Doris in the gossip stakes.
Doris smiled. "There's always summit happening over at the Feast. Our Jacko missed his night at the snooker club, yer know. All of Houghton centre was evacuated for two hours."
Dolly looked deflated that Doris has come up trumps with the gossip, but her mild indignation was replaced with laughter when the older woman said that Houghton Police Station could have been wiped off the map. Thankfully all was well now and Dolly would be tucking in to her usual five sandwiches at teatime.
Neither woman was aware that they were being watched from the bushes of the boarded up house. Every word they uttered was being scribbled down onto a notebook as fast as the voyeur could write. She flicked her pale hair nervously out of her eyes. The pressure was on for her to come up with another success and the strain was building inside of her. Her only release would be to kill again.
© Books of the North 2000 - 2006.
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