HE WHO RIDES A TIGER

"HE WHO RIDES A TIGER" Chief petty office Peter Thompson the upstanding, charming gent hides a secret, he is an abuser of children. How long can he evade the law. one young girl, his daughter finds the courage to come forward to tell all after years of torment.. based on a true story. "A must read"

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When the weekend came Rose and Janet went into town and chose paint, new curtains and light fittings for the room. The lads would wallpaper one wall at the back where the headboard was going to be situated and the rest would be painted once the skirting boards were nailed in place. The outside of the house would be like an old cabin, it would be made of treated wood so that the rain could not penetrate it she had a small window cut in further along from where the patio doors were situated. Once the tiles went down in the bathroom and the toilet and washbasin plumbed in the building work was done. Janet and Rose ran up the curtains on her Singer sewing machine. They made throw cushions for the bed whilst the wallpaper was being put up. The ceilings and walls were then painted and once that was done the lads wallpapered the one wall. They left the room open to dry out the walls. Two days later Peter put up a curtain rail over the window and the oak doors and another on the shower. A plastic screen was hung up and a warm light pink patterned carpet went down on the floor.

A little after only two weeks the room was complete. Rose had her own bed delivered and bedside cabinets put either side of the wooden headboard. Peter hung up her pictures and added her bits and pieces like a mirror, chair, jewelry box, and a few ornaments that reminded her of Ireland. She had her old radio which she liked on the opposite side of the papered wall Peter built her shelves to house her many books. It was like home from home. She loved it because it gave her total privacy. It was somewhere that she could go to be by herself. Rose was supposed to get the weekend off but always lent a hand in the kitchen. She and Janet became best friends and went everywhere together. When Alan was three months old Janet returned to work. It didn’t take her long to slip back into the routine and Peter even though he still had a few days left of his holiday decorated the living room.

Deborah Jane now came home with her friend from school which saved Rose from going out or having to rush back if she went out. Deborah Jane had her own key so there was no need for Rose to rush back.

As springtime approached the leaves on the trees began to bud, even crocus and snowdrops began to pop up in the garden. Warmer days were coming and Rose pushed Alan to the park where she met with other mothers who all thought that Alan was her child. Rose had never been as happy in her whole life as she was at that moment. Alan never stirred until he came home. She turned on the washing machine and set to work washing the pile of dirty nappies after feeding and changing him. After doing that she set Alan in his Moses basket and he was content to watch as Rose prepared dinner. She put in some neck chops with some spring cabbage and mashed turnip and carrots with a knob of butter and black pepper. Rose peeled potatoes and part boiled them and then placed them into the oven with a little goose fat to make crispy roast potatoes.

She made a Yorkshire pudding in the tray that would do twelve large puddings.

Rose in between times made pots of tea for Peter who was busy cutting lengths of wallpaper and hanging them from a set of step ladders with a baton across so he could walk along it to roll out any air bubbles.

It took him less than an hour to emulsion the ceiling. When he’d papered he rubbed down the gloss work then set to work painting the window frames then the doors.

Rose had to tell Deborah Jane as she came in to watch the paint work. She sat in the kitchen with Rose and let her father get on with it. She opened her homework exercise book she read the passage before taking a pencil and began to write something.

“Don’t you be chewing the end of my pencils I bought you mind.’

 

Deborah Jane laughed as she placed the palm of her hand under her chin whilst she thought of what to write. After a while her head went down and her pencil began to form the words onto the page. Deborah Jane was a good writer for her age. Rose and her mother had helped her with her hand writing. She had a lovely style of writing. It was almost romantic the way she formed the letters with the loops and swirls like calligraphy. Rose looked at her work then smiled. Deborah Jane was going to go far in life she thought she was a bright child. She began to keep a diary and in it she composed her own poetry. Rose had introduced her to some of the many books that she’d collected over the years. She loved Byron and Oscar Wilde and could recite a poem off by heart after reading it just a few times. Each night lying in bed she would pick up a book and read a poem just as Rose had. When Janet came in she smelled the paint and wondered into the living room to see the room transformed.

“Like it said Peter as he put the lid back on a tin of white gloss.’

“Like it, I love it. She kissed her husband even though he was still in his overalls. “What made you decide to do it she asked.

“Well I won’t be home for a while so I thought I’d do it now.’

“Oh no you haven’t been posted again.

Yes, I have two days then I’m off to Singapore.

“It doesn’t seem that long ago since you came back last time.’

“I’m sorry love, I’ll be back before you know it and you have Rose to keep you company.’

“I’ll Iron your shirts for you.’

“It’s fine,’ I’ll do them, you sit down you look done in.’

“It’s been hectic on the wards today I must say.’

Rose brought her out a cup of tea and told her dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes.

“Rose you are a life saver, thank you.’

Peter dismissed himself and went for a shower and left Rose and Janet talking.

He turned on the water in the shower that he’d installed when he came home last time. On board his ship he was used to showers rather than a bath. He usually showered twice daily and shaved straight after. Personal hygiene was a big thing on board a ship with over 300 men. One thing you didn’t need was some smelly individual standing next to you. He washed with old spice soap which he’d brought home. And he used baby shampoo on his hair because it was gentler he said.

The water bounced off his shoulders as he stood under the shower and the soapy lather from the loofah he used to wash his back. He turned off the water then stepped onto the bath mat he dried himself then wrapped the bath towel around himself he lathered his face then ran more hot water in the wash basin. Putting the plug in, he half-filled it then began to remove the bristles from his face. Swishing the Gillette Blade in the water he lifted his chin and ran the razor down his neck on both sides before rinsing then feeling his face incase he’d missed some. He hadn’t. he picked up a hand towel and dried his face. He cleaned his teeth with Gibbs smokers tooth powder. Then swilled his mouth. He opened his mouth and looked at his teeth to make sure that they were clean. He dried his mouth then took out a bottle of Eu’ de cologne and splashed his face.

He walked into his room then changed into a pair of slacks and a clean shirt.

He brushed his hair then put on his slippers. He was now ready for dinner.

Rose was just serving as he sat down at the dining table.

“That smells absolutely delicious Rose, you know we are really fortunate to have you.’

“Now I want clean plates all round.’

“Pass those roast potatoes please said Peter they look scrummy.’

 

When Friday evening arrived, Edward Thompson put on his coat.

Brian was toying with the pistol until George told him to put it away in case it went off in the house.

“Now keep your eyes peeled said their father, we don’t want any slip ups here. We don’t hand anything over until we see the money first is that clear?

“Yes Da.’

Right then let’s do this. George had borrowed Peggy’s van that she used for bringing sacks of potatoes and blocks of beef dripping from the market. She drained the fryer every week. The old fat was drained off then left to set in plastic buckets it was disposed of via the binmen who dumped it for a fish and chip dinner. Sometimes some of it would go missing and she was sure that some of her neighbours were stealing it and using it on their bread. Not that she minded, she just wanted rid of it. George told her that he was borrowing the van to help move some furniture for a friend. The black Bedford started first time and Brian drove to the lock up. George opened the door and went inside after looking around. The velvet bag was where he’d left it. He jumped into the pit and then picked it up then climbed back out he stuffed the bag inside of his long coat that he was wearing. Okay drive said George as he got back inside the van next to his father.

George kept checking the side mirrors to see if they were being followed.  Just after 7.30 p.m.  they reached Bob Colquhoun’s house he let the three of them in.

“Is your man here asked Edward?

“Sit down Eddie, have a drink. Whiskey is it?’

“Go on then I’ll have a large one.’

Bob asked the other two men if they wanted a drink but they refused.’

He rang me earlier he’s on his way.’

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