‘Then we’ll run it on the front page next to the interviews with Father Christmas and the fucking tooth fairy.’
He heard her laughter as she closed the door.
Nicholls reached for the phone as it rang.
Thirty-four
Frank Reed sat at his desk glancing out of the classroom window into the corridor beyond.
He could see the heads of dozens of children as they hurried by, some using as much restraint as they could muster to stop themselves from running. But the final bell had sounded. They could go home and that was exactly what they were doing, with undue haste and delight.
Reed cleaned the blackboard behind him and dropped the chalky eraser onto the ledge beneath it, wiping his hands to remove the dust. He massaged the back of his neck with one hand, feeling a dull ache growing more intense there.
He gathered up his text books and shoved them into the battered leather briefcase he always carried them in.
Ellen had bought it for him for their first wedding anniversary.
Ellen.
He looked at the case and gritted his teeth.
Bitch.
As he left the classroom he locked the door, twisting the handle to ensure it was correctly secured.
Two young boys sprinted past him up the corridor.
‘Don’t run’ Reed shouted, smiling to himself as he saw them stop dead and continue at a more leisurely pace.
He watched them reach the door at the end of the corridor and was about to turn when he saw a familiar figure heading towards him.
As ever, she was dressed in a grey tracksuit, her long blonde hair pulled back and fastened in a pony tail. She seemed to bounce along on her immaculately clean trainers, and Reed smiled as he saw her.
Judith Nelson was six years younger than Reed, the head of the Physical Education department at St Michael’s for the last five years now. A divorcee who now lived alone, she’d joined the school about a fortnight after Reed.
‘Do you always have to look so bloody healthy?’ he said, smiling. ‘It’s very depressing for the rest of us.’
‘Fresh air and exercise,’ Judith said, smiling. ‘You look like you could do with some, Frank.’
They headed off towards the staffroom.
‘I could do with something,’ he said, wearily.
‘Problems at home?’ she enquired.
‘I wouldn’t bore you with it, Judith.’
‘Why not? I bored you with my problems when I split up with my husband.’
Reed didn’t answer.
‘Come on, Frank’ she persisted.
‘You didn’t have kids, did you?’
‘No, but splitting up still wasn’t easy.’
‘It’s always more complicated with kids, Judith.’
‘Is that the problem, then?’
‘Ellen won’t let me see my daughter.’
‘She can’t stop you, can she?’
‘Not legally, no. I can take it to court, fight her for custody, all that shit. But I don’t want to do that unless I have to. For Becky’s sake. I don’t want her to see me and her mother fighting over her. The problem is, I think that’s what it might come to. I’m not letting her go without a fight.’
‘Has she said why she won’t let you see her?’
‘Look, Judith, no offence but forget it, will you? I appreciate your concern but….’ He allowed the sentence to trail off.
‘Just trying to help.’
They entered another corridor and Judith glanced into one of the empty classrooms.
‘Not again’ she murmured, her attention caught by something inside.
Reed followed her gaze and saw a figure seated at the rear of the classroom.
He followed Judith inside.
The young girl who sat at the back of the room, satchel clasped on the desk before her, was about eleven; she was pale, thin-faced and a little scruffy.
The cuffs of her dark blue cardigan needed mending and he also noticed a button was missing. The white socks she wore were badly in need of a wash, as was her grey skirt.
When she saw the two teachers she seemed to sink back against the wall, as if trying to blend in with its yellow-painted brickwork.
‘Didn’t you hear the bell, Annette?’ Judith asked. ‘Home time.’
The girl lowered her gaze, reluctant to meet the stare of the teachers.
‘All your friends have gone,’ Judith prompted.
‘I’m sorry,’ the girl said, almost inaudibly.
‘Go on, run along now,’ Judith said, softly, one hand touching the girl’s shoulder.
She pulled away sharply, her head still lowered.
Reed looked on curiously.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ Judith asked.
The girl nodded and got to her feet.
As she eased herself out from behind the desk, Reed saw a large bluish-yellow bruise on her calf.
Aware of his prying gaze she hurriedly pulled up her off-white sock and made for the door.
‘Anyone would think you didn’t want to go home,’ Judith called after her.
The two teachers watched as the young girl disappeared out of the door and went slowly up the corridor.
‘That’s three times in the past week I’ve found her here after last bell,’
said Judith.
‘What’s her name?’ Reed asked.
‘Annette Hilston.’
‘I know the name. Big family, aren’t they? Five or six kids.’
‘I think Annette’s the youngest. I can’t understand it. She used to be such a happy kid - chatty, friendly - but over the last few weeks she’s become very withdrawn.’
Reed frowned. ‘Did you see that bruise on her leg?’ he asked.
‘I’ve seen other marks on her, too. In the changing rooms, when the girls have been getting ready for sport.’
‘More bruises?’
Judith nodded.
‘And marks on the wrists?’ Reed persisted.
‘How did you know?’
‘One of my lads, Paul O’Brian, he’s the same. Withdrawn, unsociable, and he had what looked like burns on his wrists. He says there’s nothing wrong, but if I didn’t know better I’d say he was acting as if he was scared of
something.’
‘Like what?’
Reed shook his head. ‘His parents, maybe?’
‘Do you think that’s the problem with Annette, too?’
‘It’s possible. Just do me a favour will you, Judith? Keep an eye on her. If you see any more injuries on her, let me know.’
‘You think the parents did it?’
‘I didn’t say that, and this conversation doesn’t go any further, right?’
Judith nodded.
‘There’s probably a perfectly logical explanation for it,’ he said, none too convincingly.
‘For the bruises and marks, you mean?’ Judith said, her words hanging in the air.
‘For the sake of those kids,’ said Reed, ‘I hope to Christ there is.’
Thirty-five
‘She should be in fucking hospital’ shouted Talbot, angrily.
From behind his desk, Dr Maurice Hodges watched the policeman pacing angrily back and forth.
‘Your mother fell, Mr Talbot, she didn’t collapse,’ the physician said, finally.
‘She should be in hospital anyway’ the DI persisted.
‘They can’t do any more for your mother in hospital than we can do for her here. She’s been examined, she’s fine.’
‘She’s got cancer, in case you’d forgotten, Doctor. That’s a bloody strange definition of “fine” Talbot rasped.
He ran a hand through his hair and finally sat down. ‘Jesus’ he muttered.
‘I can understand how you feel’ Hodges told him.
‘Can you?’
A long silence followed, finally broken by the doctor.
‘She knows about the cancer, Mr Talbot’ Hodges said, quietly. ‘When she fell, earlier today, we took her to St Ann’s for a precautionary x-ray. We wondered if she might have cracked a rib when she fell.’