Strange cell-mates

Locked up below the New Church, Bob Hewson had just finished telling Adam about their plans - reluctantly at first, though with increasing bitterness when the reality of his situation sank in.

"I can't believe he's done this," he muttered to himself. "I mean, I always knew he was a bit ruthless, but I thought..."

"Mr Hewson," interrupted Adam. "Please spare me the self-pity. You didn't think - that's the problem. Oh, you planned, and you plotted and you schemed - but you didn't think. Not about people. Well, maybe yourselves. I've never listened to a more selfish load of rubbish in all my life. Really."

Hewson, in spite of the circumstances, hadn't lost all his feelings of self-justification. "How can you say that? We did what we did for the good of this town. For people like you, the next generation," he replied.

Adam laughed. "And what's so good about this town anyway? I've lived here all my life, and there's nothing special about it. Just an ordinary little place. No, when you say "this town", you mean you and your mates, Mr Hewson. And all your boring little shops. For that, you've done all this? For that, you got involved with a psycho like that army nutter? Well I wish you hadn't bothered. Not on my account."



Part Three begins here.