A Case of Wild Justice? [Paperback]

"..The build-up to the finale of this carefully plotted story is absorbingly brilliant. This book is a work of art and will easily earn the praise it shall undoubtedly receive..." --Bookloons.com September 2008

"Right to the end the tension... is kept up. This book made me reflect on my own attitudes to menaces in my community."

A?Case of Wild Justice? is a story of crime and self-defence. The 'silver bees' are fighting back against crime and vandalism in their neighbourhoods, mainly by turning themselves into walking booby traps. "If we can't save ourselves from attack," they say, "then at least the criminals won't escape either!" Hannah Meadows, a kindly old lady with a fondness for hats, is angry with her clever and manipulative grandson, Billy, whose gang attacked her sister's garden. Seeing how his behaviour is destroying his family, she knows she must do something. Hannah has her own guilty secret and, as her past comes back to haunt her, she finds herself torn between her anger and her hatred of violence; between her love of life and her desire to stop the bullies. How can she protect her family if she is not prepared to act? Then there is Hannah's young neighbour, Declan, who is desperately in love with Billy's sister... "The build-up to the finale of this carefully plotted story is absorbingly brilliant. This book is a work of art..." Mary Ann Smyth in Bookloons.com "Right to the end the tension... is kept up... This book made me reflect on my own attitudes to menaces in my community." Harry Goode, Secretary Cambridge Writers

The 'silver bees' are a group of elderly people fighting back against crime and vandalism in their neighbourhoods, mainly by turning themselves into walking booby traps. "If we can't save ourselves from attack," they say, "then at least the criminals won't escape either!"

The story focuses on the dilemma faced by Hannah Meadows, a kindly old lady whose grandson is one of the miscreants. Seeing how Billy's behaviour is destroying his family, she knows she must do something about him.

Hannah has her own guilty secret and, as her past comes back to haunt her, she finds herself torn between her anger and her hatred of violence; between her love of life and her desire to stop the bullies. How can she protect her family if she is not prepared to act?

Then there is Hannah's young neighbour, Declan, who is desperately in love with Billy's sister...

My novels tend to focus on the inner lives of their characters - those hidden parts of their minds which even their nearest and dearest are unaware of - and on the dilemmas of people who feel they are trying to live in two different worlds at once.I am intrigued by questions about how people see themselves. In this fast-changing world, what gives us our sense of belonging, or not belonging, to any place or group or culture?As well as writing, I sometimes paint a little, which helps me to untangle my mind when it gets stuck. Some of my paintings are about my struggles with writing. You can see them on my website.

Chapter One
"A 73-year-old woman was admitted to hospital yesterday suffering from shock, after her garden was attacked by hooligans. She was found by her sister Hannah who lives only a few doors away."

Hannah could have killed her grandson. This time he had gone too far. The images flooded her mind every time she closed her eyes; the crowd of jeering boys stamping on Jessie's flowers; the sight of her sister cowering in the darkened room with her little brown mongrel, Smudge, huddled at her feet.

She would never forget the look of fear she saw in Jessie's eyes that day, a look which hardened into anger - or was it contempt? - when she saw Hannah. Smudge growled a warning. He was normally a docile little dog who slept all day, but now he was trembling violently and his big brown eyes looked distraught.

"What's the matter Jessie? What's happened?

"Billy," said Jessie in a hoarse voice. "I'll kill him, I tell you. I'll kill him if I ever get hold of him." She was plucking nervously at the cuff of her blouse as she spoke.

Not if I get to him first! Hannah thought. "What's he done, Jessie? Tell me what happened."

"I saw him," whispered Jessie. "I saw Billy." She was tugging frantically at her sleeve now, almost as if she were trying to rip it from her arm. She reached out for her sewing basket which was on the table beside her but, in her agitation, she knocked it over, sending its contents flying across the room. Then, to Hannah's alarm, she slid off her chair onto the floor.

"Jessie..!" cried Hannah, thinking her sister had collapsed. But Jessie had not collapsed. She was crawling around the floor, saying, "I've lost a blue button. I've lost a blue button..." over and over again,

"Here, let me help," said Hannah and she, too, got down on her hands and knees, although rather more slowly than Jessie - she was not as supple as her sister - to help retrieve the packets of needles and pins, and spools of thread that had rolled under the furniture. When she could find no more, she stood up stiffly, saying, "I'm sorry, Jessie, but I can't see your blue button anywhere."

Jessie did not get up, but continued scrabbling around the room saying, "Where's my blue button? I've lost my blue button." She was weeping openly now and her face was covered in grime.

Smudge whimpered at the back door and Hannah opened it to let him out. It was only then, when she saw the state of Jessie's back garden, that she realised what had happened. She realised, too, that this was the last straw. Billy would have to be stopped. Wrecking his great-aunt's garden might not be the worst of his misdeeds - that was probably the attack on his sister Helen - but it was an act of such pointless malice that Hannah was finally convinced the boy was past curing. He was irredeemably bad. He could not bear the sight of anybody else's happiness, and would destroy it wherever he found it. He would have to be stopped before he blighted any more lives and, if the police could not do it, then his grandmother would have to. Wasn't he her responsibility, after all?