THE SCHOOL BUS STOPPED OUTSIDE THE SHOP, AND JOSIE watched as the little crowd of variously clad pupils climbed aboard. Jack Hickson was still hovering over the magazines, and Josie walked over to him.
“The bus won’t wait, Jack,” she said. “Go on, run for it.”
He stared at her, and the lack of expression in his almost black eyes made her feel uncomfortable. “Mind yer own business,” he said insolently. She opened her mouth to tell him he would not be welcome in the shop anymore. She had had enough of his cheek. But he was out of the door and into the bus like a scared rabbit. Except that he was not scared.
Josie turned back to the counter. Should she report him to his mother? But the poor woman had enough to worry about, and in any case, knew all about her firstborn. No doubt child experts would say he was a casualty of a violent father and a broken home. But the other children were perfectly polite, and certainly Mum seemed to think Paula was making a good job of bringing up a family on her own.
Jack Jr. made his way to the rear of the bus, where his second-best mate, Jonathan, greeted him with a friendly shove. “Did you get it?” he said, and Jack shook his head. “Silly cow was watching too close,” he said. “I’ll have another go this afternoon, when we get off the bus. Works best if you wait till the shop’s full of kids, then she don’t know which way to look.”
He pulled a dog-eared magazine out of his school bag and they both huddled over it, chortling at the lovely busty girls. “Why don’t
“Andorexia,” Jonathan said knowledgeably. “Don’t eat much. Can’t expect big tits without a few cream buns!” And they were off again into husky sniggers.
As they stopped outside the school gates, Jack stuffed the magazine back into his bag and left the bus. A man stood by the gate, and Jack stopped abruptly, causing Jonathan to crash into him with loud expletives.
“Hi, boy,” said the man. “Wanna come for a walk?”
Jack shook his head, his face deathly white. “Sod off,” he said. “I’m goin’ to school.”
“Never used to be s”keen on school,” the man said. “Got some sweets here. Cheer you up, they will. Sure you don’t wanna come?”
Jack hesitated, and Jonathan gave him a push from behind. “Get into the playground,” he hissed. “He won’t dare follow. He’s big trouble. You oughta know that. Go on, for God’s sake.”
Another push got Jack Jr. through the gates. He ran into school without a backwards glance. The man shrugged, put the packet back into his pocket and walked away. “Always another day,” he muttered to himself.
LOIS CAME INTO THE SHOP SMILING BROADLY. “MORNING, LOVE,” she said. “Lovely weather for ducks.”
Josie looked out at the sheeting rain, and agreed. “And that young Jack Hickson didn’t have a coat nor nothing,” she said.
“Jack?” Lois said. “Why did you say that? Didn’t know you were concerned about the Hickson family.” Then she remembered that it had been Josie who suggested Paula for a job with New Brooms. “Well, I don’t really mean you,” she added. “It’s your father and Gran who ain’t got no time for them. Give a dog a bad name, I reckon.”
“Not much wrong with that family, except for Jack Jr.,” Josie said sadly. “I nearly banned him from the shop this morning. Very lippy he was. It’s almost like he wants trouble.”
“He’s going the right way to get it,” Lois replied. “Anyway, don’t let’s bother about him now. He’s neither one thing nor the other at the moment, not a real teenager nor a child. His voice isn’t properly broken, even. I shall see Paula at the meeting later on. D’you want me to mention it? Or shall we just see how he goes?”
Josie smiled. “Good old Mum,” she said. “Feet on the ground. No wonder Matt’s uncle is so smitten.”
“Josie!”
“Sorry, sorry! Just that Matt says the lads at the station know that Cowgill’s always in a better mood when he’s made a call to Long Farnden.”
“Change the subject,” Lois said firmly. “Did he have any news about the village hall? Any ideas about who might be having a go at burning it down to the ground?”
Josie shook her head. “If he did know anything, he wasn’t telling me,” she said. “He’s very strict about that. Off duty means just that. And police business is confidential.”
“Doesn’t stop him having a normal conversation about village matters, does it?”
“We got better things to talk about, Mum,” Josie said, and that was that.
PAULA WAS ENJOYING HERSELF. LOIS HAD SENT HER UP TO FARNDEN Hall, where Mrs. Tollervey-Jones had sighed with relief on seeing her. “Mrs. Meade telephoned earlier about Floss being unwell,” she said, ushering Paula through the kitchen door. Tradesmen’s entrance, thought Paula, and then reminded herself that Mrs. T-J was a JP on the magistrate’s bench in Tresham and might well have come across Jack Sr. in her work in the family court. She had had to go to the doctor with her wrist when Jack had slashed her. She was pretty sure that he hadn’t meant to do it, but he was blind drunk at the time and his hand had slipped. That’s what he had said, anyway, and this is what she had told the doc as he treated her. She could see he didn’t believe her, but there was nothing more she could say.
In a way, it had been a relief when Jack Sr. had left. Being on her own was hard, but at least she could concentrate on the kids and not worry about keeping them out of Jack’s way when he was in the drink.
Now she picked up a tiny porcelain foxhound, one of a group surrounding a finely modelled horse and rider. As instructed, she took great care and replaced them all exactly as she found them. Mrs. T-J had gone into the village, and Paula wanted everything to be perfect for when she returned. This job with New Brooms was heaven sent, and she intended no fault would be found with her work.
“Don’t open the door to anyone,” Mrs. T-J had cautioned her. “Not even a policeman.” The ghost of a smile crossed her face. “When you’ve been a magistrate for as long as I have,” she added, “you are bound to have made an enemy or two.”
It was so peaceful and quiet, Paula thought, and perched on the edge of a spindly legged chair for a moment. What must it be like to be the old girl, living in luxury, not a care in the world and never a worry about where the next penny was coming from?
A sudden snort from an armchair at the other side of the room startled her, and she jumped to her feet in alarm. Then she saw it was a fat old spaniel, white and liver colored, lumbering across the room towards her, wagging its tail. She bent down and fondled its velvety ears. “You made me jump,” she said. “Must get on,” she continued, and picked up the wax polish and duster and headed for the door.
As she crossed the hall with its chessboard black and white tiles, her eye was caught by a figure walking up the gravelled drive. As he approached she watched him with growing apprehension.
“Oh, God!” As he came closer, she recognized him. “No, no, no!” she yelled, and ran out of the hall, down the passage and into the kitchen. She checked the door was locked, and then shot the bolt in the scullery. Then she heard the front doorbell. He was keeping his finger on it without pausing, and Paula stuck her fingers in her ears. She cowered behind the larder door and prayed that he would go away.
Then she heard the blessed sound of Mrs. T-J’s car sweeping into the stable yard. She ran quickly to the long windows and saw the figure retreating rapidly across the park and disappear into a thicket bordering the road. Her heart was thudding, and she made a desperate attempt to pull herself together.
“Paula? Are you there? All well?” Mrs. T-J was in a good mood. She had put a card in the shop window advertising for an under-gardener to help out Bob, who was certainly in need of assistance. With the present job situation, someone was bound to apply, and all she had to do now was find a way of explaining the need for an assistant to the old man who had been tending the gardens at the hall for what must be more than fifty years.
“Ah, there you are. Are you all right? You look a bit surprised. Surely I told you I would be back? Only been to the village, you know.”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Tollervey-Jones. Just this dear old dog.” She bent down and patted the spaniel. “Gave
