The Wolf Of Penshaw Lake
Chapter 1

This book is also on Wattpad, but no other writing platforms. It is unpublished, free to read and unedited.

H.L.Wright, 2024. All rights Reserved.

The train huffed and puffed as it began to slow down. People all up and down the carriages began shuffling their things, arranging their belongings, putting on their coats and slowly edging to the edge of their seats, ready to fly out of them and be waiting at the doors when the train came to a stop.

Quintessentially British.

The train stopped at a town that I could barely be bothered to read the name of. Something Northern, I was sure. Mum was half asleep against the multi-coloured head-rest of the seat she was in and I was lazily staring out of the window, waiting for the train to pass on again. We made sure we always left at least three stops between each place we left to ensure that we left a minuscule trail behind us.

We had spent a day and a half travelling and we were exhausted. Finally, the train stopped at a small platform in a town called Penshaw Lake.

“This will do,” Mum said quietly and stood up to leave the train, gathering her small backpack and zipping up her jacket. There were only two stops after this and they were larger cities. My mother chose right to come here, although we had both never heard of it before.

We stepped down from the train onto a platform that had two sides and one small ticket office. A man inside the ticket office looked bored to tears. He slowly munched on a packet of crisps, and looked up at the arriving train with some surprise. Clearly, not much happened here and not many people visited. In fact, we were the only people leaving the train. Still, flowers in boxes adorned the side of the station and it seemed neat and well kept. I could see rolling hills in the distance and smiled, it looked like the perfect hideout.

“Okay Heidi. Johnathan made those ID’s for us a couple of days ago. Do you remember your information on it?”

Johnathan was an old friend of my mum’s who had a side hustle making fake ID’s. I didn’t know how she knew him, and I never asked either. Johnathan would make us fake passports, birth certificates, bank statements, you name it and he could create it. I hoped that each place we went to would be our last, but mum was never satisfied. She never felt safe enough to stay.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be Sophie Moore now,” I replied, taking out my new passport.

“I’m Louise Moore. You remember these names, you’ve forgotten a few times lately. I don’t want any more slip ups!”

“Yeah mum,” I drawled.

We walked past the station and down a long winding road, a few cars passed but it was a lot less busy than our hometown. I clocked the heavy forest on my left and the absence of any human life. It was odd, but perhaps this was simply what small, northern towns were like. The road became smaller as we turned a corner into the main town and small, pristine houses appeared on our left. Manicured gardens and smoothly painted fences greeted us as though they had been copy pasted and printed one after the other.

I shivered. This was so unlike the dreary, deadbeat, needle-covered streets of home that it felt like I had wandered into some kind of utopian fiction novel. Or a painting.

After around fifteen minutes of walking, and complaining, we reached a converted hotel. It looked to have been an old Tudor house, complete with the signature black and white style and a beautiful, traditional, thatched roof. It suited the town perfectly. A sign stating they had vacancies was lit up in the front window and I pointed towards it.

“Yes, lets go in there. My legs are ready to fall off,” Mum replied, hurrying past me and opening the door to the hotel.

We were greeted by a couple on the front desk; the woman tending to a preteen girl of around twelve with two french braids and a hand on her hip.

“Hi guys, how can I help you?” The woman said politely as she clocked our entrance, she was polite enough, but there a hint of surprise and questioning in her tone.

“Just a room please, two single beds,” Mum replied as I rested my arms on the desk, taking some weight off of my sore feet.

“I’ll need some information off you, names?”

“Za-Louise and Sophie. We just need a few nights.”

A man rounded the corner, taking over from the woman and the girl. He eyed them suspiciously,

“How long is a few nights?” He asked briskly.

“Say a week.”

“The room is thirty a night, breakfast included. How would you like to pay?”

Breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn’t asked us for passports or any other ID, Mum withdrew a small pile of money from her bag,

“Cash.”

“That’s two-ten then love,” He said and took the cash without any hesitation. He counted it and when satisfied, placed it in the register.

Cash was our only way of surviving. Luckily, my step-father kept a neat stash hidden away that mum found shortly before we went on the run. A few thousand. It was more than I had ever dreamed of seeing. It had done us well, hopping from town to town and staying in the cheapest hotels we could replace, but I knew it was beginning to dwindle. Soon, we would need to settle down.

“Can you tell us about the town? Where can we eat? Shop?” Mum asked.

“The high street is about a five minute walk from here. You’ll replace all that you need there. A few cafes’, a pub, the supermarket and plenty of independent shops. You want anything like a mall you’ll have to catch the train on up to the city. Be careful going out at night around here, there’s some people who don’t take kindly to visitors,” The lady replied, with a somber expression.

I frowned, “Gangs? In a small town like this?”

“No, but the town is pretty divided. I’ve lived here my whole life and there’s an always an air of...” She paused as though she was trying to replace the right word, “Segregation. Not in the racist term of course, but...”

Just then the girl piped up, “I wouldn’t have come here if I were you. Visitors don’t stay long,” She said, folding her arms. Her mother shook her head at her and ushered her into the back of the hotel behind the desk.

“I’m rambling. Perhaps you’ll replace that Penshaw Lake is for you!”

“We don’t plan on staying long,” I replied.

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” The man muttered finally, after a brief pause.

I felt an involuntary shiver rise up my spine and cause goosebumps to erupt on my skin. Just when on earth had my step-father made us flee to?

***

I threw my bag onto the bed and was pleasantly surprised to replace no dust springing into the air. I wiped a finger along the windowsill and was satisfied to see it was clean. It was a small room, yet rather pleasant and would do for a short while. Two beds had been identically made next to each other and I claimed the one closest to the window; as I always did. I explored the small bedside cabinet, replaceing nothing but a bible, and the wardrobe with a few hangers swinging idly inside.

The bathroom was just as plain, white furnishings, white walls and white tiled floor. White was okay, but there was no flavour or character to it. I had upgraded the small bag I left home with to a small, black suitcase and began to place my limited possessions onto the clothing hangers and into the bathroom. I had picked up clothes here and there from the places we had visited over the past year. None were enough to stand out, simple t-shirts and jeans, a jumper or two. I couldn’t stand out, I had to be as invisible as possible.

“I’ve explored this room as much as a human possibly can. Lets go get something to eat and have a bit of a walk,” Mum said with a smile.

I jumped up from the bed where I had previously sat down to test how comfortable it would be, I was eager to get into the town and see where we would be living for the foreseeable future. We stepped out of the room and passed the front desk where the man still stood. He gave us a short, curt nod as we left the hotel.

We walked briskly and eagerly into the centre of the small town. It wasn’t too far from the hotel and I gathered that the forest was what made up most of this place. It seemed to span around the entire town, like some kind of eerie trap keeping all of the residents inside. As far I could tell, there was only one or two ways out. Still, it was quite a pretty place, well-kept and neat. Rubbish was nonexistent and the air felt clean and fresh.

From our left, I watched an elderly lady quickly dart her head from left to right, before she left her house with a small, brown dog on the lead. The dog took a long sniff of the air and brought out the tail that was beneath its legs and began to wag.

The lady passed us as we walked and she gave us a frown before pulling on her dog’s lead and speeding up her walk.

“Friendly neighbour!” I commented with a grin.

My mum laughed and rolled her eyes, “She was ancient give the bag a break.”

We made into into the centre of town, which consisted of a few independent clothing shops, a large supermarket, grocery shops, cafe’s and a restaurant and a large fountain in the middle. It was the fountain that caught my eye. It was beautiful, with three white wolves playing in the middle, and water shooting up around them. Surrounding the fountain were beautiful flowers in full bloom and it added such a sense of beauty to the area.

“How beautiful is that?” I gained my mum’s attention to the fountain.

She pulled her attention away from some pretty dresses in a small boutique to the fountain. “Oh yeah it’s lovely. I wonder why wolves?”

“Well...” I paused. “Wolves are pretty amazing animals aren’t they? If I was an animal, I think I’d be a wolf.”

Mum laughed, a real laugh that I hadn’t heard in a while, “Your bite is definitely sometimes bigger than your bark. Shall we get something to eat?” She said, changing the subject and pulling my gaze from the fountain and over to where she was looking.

It was a dainty looking cafe called Blossom’s and I nodded. It looked pleasant enough, with some small tables outside and a menu on the window. As we entered we were greeted by a friendly, young girl, not much older than myself, who showed us to a corner of the cafe where a small table sat with a flower in a vase in the middle. She handed us two menus and with a bright smile, left us be.

“Well isn’t she a breath of fresh air,” My mum whispered and I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or nice. It was difficult to tell these days.

“She’s the first friendly face I’ve seen. Let’s hope the others were a minority,” I hissed back.

She didn’t reply, instead she pretending to be mulling over the menu when I knew full well she had heard me. Mum had no time for most people, and she barely looked most men in the eye. Women were luckier. I rolled my eyes and looked at the menu myself, my eyes drawn to the all day breakfast, I hadn’t eaten a full English breakfast in years.

The waitress came back with a small notepad and a pen and smiled down at us, “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes I’ll have the full English and a cup of tea, mum?”

“A bacon sandwich and a latte please.”

“Are you guys staying round here? I haven’t seen you before!” She chirped.

There was the dreaded question, although it was asked so nicely, I couldn’t help but feel that she was almost interviewing us.

“No,” My mum said sharply, “I doubt we’ll be staying long, just passing through.”

“Oh what a shame, it’s lovely here! I’ll take these orders through and get your drinks.”

She left our table and I watched as she leaned over to another woman, an older lady, and whispered in her ear. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it was confirmed that she was talking about us, when the old lady turned to get a quick look at us. Her look was fleeting, but her face, etched with concern, made me worried and even more so when she hurried herself into the back of the cafe.

She came back out and gave a curt nod to the friendly waitress who resumed her friendly smile and carried over the drinks to our table.

“Your food won’t be long,” She sang and skipped off. I watched her greet two girls who entered the cafe with a hug and an animated story, of which I could only catch a few words. They too, gave us fleeting looks, but they didn’t seem that concerned. Not like the older lady. The waitress sat them down at the table, before returning back to the kitchen and coming out with our plates of food.

I thanked her and began to tuck in. There was so much food, so much more food than I had ever had on one plate, and I didn’t even know where to start. Soon enough, I was pushing my plate away and mum took a forkful of the food that was left. I finished my tea and I as took my last gulp, the bell on the door signaled that someone was coming in.

I glanced over, expecting it to be another regular, but who I saw sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps rising on my arms.

It was a man. But not just any man. This one looked like an Adonis. A Greek god. A model. He had shaggy, black hair that fell effortlessly down to his ears and dark, entrancing eyes that seemed to pierce through my soul. He was tall, broad, brooding and simply gorgeous. My mum had also turned to look and let out a long breath.

“Oh good grief,” She muttered.

As though he heard her, the man snapped his head in our direction and his eyes went wide, as though someone might do if they see someone they recognize, or perhaps someone they weren’t expecting on seeing. The friendly waitress suddenly came over and blocked my view of him.

“Are we all finished?” She asked and I simply nodded, watching her as she cleared our plates.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Who is he?”

She laughed, “Notice him did you? Don’t worry, every girl here turns into mush when they see him. He’s my cousin so I don’t see it, but apparently he’s pretty hunky.”

“Just a bit,” I said, my cheeks growing warm. I caught my mother’s expression and it was furrowed into displeasure. I immediately took the smile off my face and asked the girl for the bill.

She looked surprised at my sudden change of tone, but nodded and went to get the bill.

As she left mum grabbed my wrist across the table, “Don’t you dare get any ideas. Men are like your step-dad, do you want get hurt again?”

I pulled my wrist from her grasp and hastily shook my head and sighed, of course she was right. No matter how good looking he was, he certainly could not be trusted. One wrong word and he could turn that beautiful smile into a snarl and send me halfway across a room. After what my step-father had done to us, we were never to let another man in our lives again; for our own safety. It was the two of us against the world and always would be.

I turned to look at the man again and this time, his eyes, that were still baring into my own, sent a different kind of shiver up my spine and goosebumps across my arms that sent warning bells through my whole body.

Men are evil Heidi. Remember that and never trust a man. No matter who he may be.