Black Shirt looked at Talbot, then at his captive, and pulled his hand away.
She stepped away from him, leaning against the counter.
‘Drop the knife’ Talbot ordered.
Black Shirt stood motionless, the knife held before him now.
Talbot extended one hand, palm up. ‘Give me the knife.’
Black Shirt was shaking now, barely able to control his own breathing. He looked across at the girl who nodded almost imperceptibly.
‘The knife’ Talbot repeated.
Black Shirt reached out to hand over the blade.
Talbot gripped the proffered wrist, twisted and simultaneously wrenched the younger man towards him. In one swift movement, he drove his head forward, slamming his forehead into Black Shirt’s face.
The impact broke the younger man’s nose, blood bursting from it, spilling onto the floor, some of it spattering Talbot.
The girl shouted something and ran towards him.
Talbot felt a blow against his back.
‘You bastard,’ shouted the girl but Talbot merely pushed her away.
Rafferty came scurrying into the shop, four uniformed men behind him, one of them an ambulance man.
He saw the girl standing against the counter, saw Black Shirt crouching on the floor, blood gushing through his fingers as he clapped both hands to his face.
‘Get them out of here,’ Talbot instructed, turning towards the door. ‘And move that fucking crowd from the street, the show’s over.’
Behind him he could hear the girl crying.
Thirty
Frank Reed looked at the phone perched on the corner of his desk.
What are you waiting for?
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms in front of him, hearing the joints of his elbows crack.
Outside his office he could hear voices and, swivelling around in his chair, he saw a group of children walking unhurriedly across the playground towards one of the more modern blocks of classrooms. He couldn’t see the face of the teacher who led them, but he recognised the broad back and the worn tweed jacket: Don Hicks, Biology.
Reed smiled to himself.
Hicks was a couple of years older than Reed and the two men got on well.
Indeed, as Deputy Head, Reed had a good rapport with all of his colleagues.
Even the older ones didn’t seem to resent the fact that a man young enough to be their son, in some cases, held such a lofty position. Even if the salary didn’t match the responsibility, Reed mused.
He turned back to face his desk.
And the phone.
The door of his office was open slightly and from the outer office he could hear the sounds of a typewriter being pounded by the secretary both he and the headmaster shared. No new-fangled technology for her. No computers or word processors. She was loyal to her old electric typewriter.
He got to his feet and crossed to the door, closing it, then returned to his desk and looked at the phone once more.
He picked it up and dialled.
Had he got the right number?
Unsure, he pressed down on the cradle and checked the number he wanted in his diary. He dialled again and waited.
It was ringing.
Come on.
And ringing.
Perhaps they were out.
Or busy?
He tapped agitatedly on his desk top with his fingertips.
What are they doing?
Reed tried to push the thoughts from his mind.
Perhaps you’re disturbing them. Perhaps they’re in bed together. Perhaps he’s fucking her.
‘Pick it up’ Reed hissed.
They might not be able to hear it. Didn’t she tell you he made her feel so good?
Reed ran a hand through his hair.
So good.
At the other end the receiver was picked up.
‘Hello’ said a man’s voice.
Reed was so lost in his own thoughts that it took him a second to react.
‘Hello’ repeated the voice at the other end.
‘Could I speak to Ellen Reed, please?’
There was a moment’s silence followed by a little chuckle.
‘Frank, how nice to hear from you’ said Jonathan Ward.
Don’t you dare laugh at me, you bastard.
‘Can I speak to Ellen, please?’ the teacher said, trying to contain his irritation.
‘And how are you, Frank? Keeping well?’ Ward said, that trace of derision in his voice. ‘We haven’t heard from you for so long we were starting to get worried.’
‘Yeah, I bet you were. Just put Ellen on, will you?’
‘I don’t know if she wants to speak to you, Frank’ Ward told him dismissively.
‘Just get her’ Reed snapped, his free hand now balled into a fist.
‘What did you want to speak to her about?’
‘That’s between her and me. It’s none of your business.’
‘Ellen and I have no secrets from each other, Frank. She’ll tell me if I ask her, anyway.’
‘Yeah, she’d do anything for you, wouldn’t she?’ Reed spat.
Ward sniggered. ‘You’re probably right, Frank’ he said. Then all Reed heard was the sound of the receiver being laid on a hard surface.
‘Bastard’ the teacher murmured under his breath.
He waited.
At the other end he heard the receiver being lifted.
‘Hello’ said the woman’s voice.
‘Ellen, it’s Frank.’
Silence.
‘Ellen, I said-‘
‘I heard you. What do you want?’ she asked curtly.
‘I need to talk to you.’
‘We’ve got nothing to say.’
‘We’ve hardly said a dozen words to each other since …’ He allowed the sentence to trail off.
‘Since I left you?’
‘How’s Becky?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘And how are you?’
‘Oh, Christ, you’re not going to make small-talk are you?’
‘We need to talk, Ellen’ Reed said, angrily. ‘About Becky, about us.’
‘There is no us any more,’ she told him, flatly.
