Fresh Start

Part One – An unexpected trip

Newcastle, August 2025

Barry Grant set his coffee down beside the laptop. The screen glowed in the darkened study of his mansion, casting shadows across the leather sofa and framed photographs of a life that felt a million miles away from Brookside Close. Out in the garden, Jimmy Corkhill was holding court from the hot tub, nursing a bottle of lager and singing tunelessly to whatever Spotify had thrown at him. Barry clicked through the settings on his MacBook, clearing out cached files and old cookies. He was halfway to hitting Delete All when a link caught his eye:

saveusfromtheincinerator.com

Barry frowned. Jimmy’s not still obsessed with that, is he?
He tapped the link. A bold headline filled the screen:

SUCCESS! CINERCO BEATEN – FULL STORY HERE.

Barry scrolled.

16th August 2025 – The notorious property group Cinerco has been declared bankrupt after years of fraudulent schemes. Families across Merseyside and beyond were forced to sell their homes under the threat of incinerators and developments that never materialised. Our campaign, Save Us From The Incinerator, has exposed the scam. Police are now preparing a nationwide search for the company’s shadowy owner – known only by the initials C.F.

Barry’s pulse quickened. The initials could only mean one person. Callum Finnegan. The name was a ghost that still rattled chains in the back of his mind.
“Looks like I’ll be taking another trip to Liverpool,” he muttered, closing the laptop with a snap.

Meanwhile, in the middle of Liverpool One shopping centre…

Marty Murray adjusted the strap of his shopping bag as he walked alongside his son. “Y’know, Ant, it’s been lovely to spend a bit of time with you this week.
As you’re so busy on cruise ships, I hardly ever get to see you these days. It’s made me think though – sometimes I miss the old days of when we used to live on Brookside Close,” he said. “Yeah, it had its bad moments, but at least the neighbours were half-decent. Most of them anyway. Better than the constant racket and all night parties we’ve got where we are now.”

Anthony sighed. “There’s something I haven’t told you about our new next-door neighbours,” he began grimly. “Her name’s Jen and she’s—”

Before Anthony could finish another voice joined the conversation.

“HIYA!”

The shout cut through the street like a foghorn. They turned to see Bev Dixon hurrying over, arms outstretched, Ron plodding behind with his usual grin.
“Well, fancy seeing you here!” Ron laughed, slapping Marty on the back. “How’s life treating you?”
Marty smiled weakly. “Same as ever. Bit of this, bit of that. You know.”

Behind them, Liverpool bustled on, but old ties had a way of resurfacing, even after all these years.

Newcastle, that evening…

Barry made a call, pacing the room.

“Toby? It’s Baz. You heard of Cinerco? Yeah. They were the lot who snapped up Brookside Close. We need to talk. Tonight.”

Lindsey, Barry’s wife and daughter of Jimmy, appeared in the doorway, arms folded. “Talk about what?” Barry ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t ‘nothing to worry about’ me, you divvy.” she said. “It’s our wedding anniversary, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Barry winced. “Course not. I’ve got a surprise planned.”

“Good.” Lindsey put her arms round Barry’s neck and kissed his cheek. “Just don’t keep me waiting.”

But as she left, Barry’s mind was already elsewhere – back in Liverpool, back to unfinished business.