with one hand. She told Floss to stay put, and followed him.
Floss tried hard to ignore the pain shooting up her leg, and looked around the room. There were two lads joshing each other, apparently fit and well, an old lady sobbing quietly into her handkerchief, a small, pale child held tight in her mother’s arms. And a tramp, bowed over in his chair, one hand held out, slowly dripping blood into a small puddle on the floor.
“Nurse!” said Floss, as a harassed girl passed by.
She stopped and looked at Floss. “We’ll get to you sooner or later,” she said.
“No, not me,” Floss replied quickly before the nurse could move on. “It’s that man over there.” She pointed to the tramp. “He needs help.”
“Everybody here needs help,” the nurse snapped. “He’ll wait his turn. He’s a regular, that one.”
“You could at least mop up the blood,” Floss said crossly. “And give him some tissues. You got tissues in this hospital?”
The nurse didn’t reply, but walked over to the tramp, said something, and disappeared.
“Here we are then,” said the reverend, appearing with Lois, who carried a tray of mugs and chocolate muffins. “This should put new heart into us.”
“Sorry about that Bible thing,” Floss said. “New one on me. ‘Mote,’ did you say? Must be very painful. Do you want a turn at sitting down?” The reverend protested that he was really a fraud and her need was greater than his.
As Floss took her coffee from Lois, she balanced it with the muffin and looked up to thank her, but Lois was staring across the room at the tramp. Floss was about to tell her about her conversation with the nurse, when Lois began to walk towards him. At that moment, a different nurse appeared and took the tramp by the arm. He struggled to his feet, and they vanished into the depths of the hospital.
JACK JR., LURKING OUT OF SIGHT OF THE BUS SHELTER, HAD SEEN Lois drive her van off towards the hall and shrugged in a resigned way far beyond his years. He’d missed the bus again, deliberately this time. He dreaded that he would be met at the other end with more appeals to take sweets, gum, cigarettes, other stuff. He hoped to get a lift and by not arriving on the bus he would be able to slip into school without being noticed.
Now, nearly into Tresham, dawdling along with his head down, he heard a vehicle coming. No good. It was going the wrong way, and he recognized the New Brooms van. He ducked into a gateway and hid behind the hedge, but too late. The van stopped and he heard Mrs. Meade’s voice calling his name. He didn’t move, hoping she would go away.
“Ah, there you are.” She was standing by the open gate, staring at him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Walkin’ to school,” he grunted. “None o’ your business.”
“Don’t you speak to me like that!” Lois said, advancing on him. She took him by the arm and marched him to the van. Thrusting him into the backseat, she climbed in and began to reverse into the gateway.
“What’re you doing, Mrs. M?” Floss said. “He lives in Farnden, opposite the shop.”
“I know that,” Lois said. “And he knows I know that.” She maneuvered the van, put on the brake and turned off the engine. “Now,” she said, “first you apologise, then you tell us exactly why you’re causing your mother so much worry and trouble.”
Silence from the backseat. Then, to Floss’s horror, she heard a very loud, rasping fart. To her amazement, Lois burst out laughing. “Good God, boy,” she said, “you don’t think that’s goin’ to shock me, do you? I ain’t brought up two good lads for nothing!” She turned round in her seat and looked at the sullen face. “How old are you, Jack?” she asked.
The boy was discomforted. He’d hope to be turned out and left to his fate, but this hadn’t happened. “Thirteen,” he said. “Nearly fourteen.”
“Can I open the window?” Floss said. She had no idea what Mrs. M had in mind, but wished she would get on with it. The painkillers were beginning to wear off, and she wanted to be home with her leg up. And the smell was awful.
Lois opened the windows, allowing a welcome rush of fresh air. “Nearly fourteen, eh,” she said. “And the eldest? The man of the family?”
“I’m not! My dad is the man of the family,” Jack said, his face bright red. “Or should be, if he hadn’t taken off and left us in the shit.”
“Maybe he’ll be back?” Lois silently put her finger to her lips, asking Floss to be silent.
“Not my dad! Mum wouldn’t have him.” Jack thought for a moment, and decided a little honesty would go down well. “An’ yes, I am scared of going to school. There’s this man who lies in wait for me.”
“Who d’you mean? Where does he lie in wait?”
“Dunno who he is. He’s every bloody where. Mostly outside school. Meets the bus. Us kids are too scared to tell the school. Let me go now, missus. I’m gonna be hours late as it is. I’m in for more lectures on truancy, more extra homework…”
“Mrs. M,” Floss said quietly. She could hear tears in the boy’s voice. “Couldn’t we run him into Tresham, back to school? Poor kid’s had enough, I reckon.”
“What d’you think, Jack? Shall we let you walk the rest, or drop you outside school?”
“Take me to school,” the boy said quickly, “an’ wait ’til I’m inside.”
Lois started the van, and they cruised along the Tresham road in silence. As they neared the school, she said, “I’m going to have to tell your mother, Jack. This can’t go on, y’know. He can be stopped.”
“Mum knows. And we don’t want the police! He’s got friends, and they’d kill me.”
Lois stopped outside the school gate and reached behind her seat. She took hold of his hand. It was cold and the nails were bitten down to the quick. Nearly fourteen, she reminded herself. A child still.
“Get going, then,” she said, and then, as an afterthought, shouted after him, “You know where I live.”
On the way back, they said nothing for a while, and then Floss cleared her throat. “It isn’t right, is it, Mrs. M? It isn’t fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Lois. “D’you think I should mind my own business, Floss?”
“Are you serious?” said Floss. “That kid needs help. His mum works with us now, and everybody knows you’re well in with the cops. You’re probably his best hope. Couldn’t we all help?” she added.
Lois frowned. “Against the rules, Floss,” she said. “My own rules. Family first, then New Brooms, and a poor third comes my work with Inspector Cowgill. I don’t think your Ben would think much of me if I involved you in a nasty court case. It could come to that, with witnesses an’ that. No, you’re a good soul, but all I ask is that you keep your eyes open for that boy’s father. There may be no need for that now, but it’s not certain yet. Now, here we are, gel, let’s get you out and into the house. Then I’ll phone your mum.”
Joan Pickering was round at her daughter’s house minutes after Lois’s call, full of concern and plans for looking after Floss. “Just you be more careful in future,” Joan said, and with a sideways glance at Lois added that she didn’t think turning out cupboards was part of the job description anyway.
“Don’t fuss, Mum,” Floss said. “There’s worse things to worry about than a sprained ankle.”
TWENTY-THREE
THE REST OF THE WEEK HAD PASSED WITHOUT ANY UNDUE events. Lois and Gran had made friends, and had now decided that instead of going to Sunday church, Gran’s preference, or weeding the flower beds, Lois’s choice, they would do neither, but would take the little terrier Jeems out for a walk in the woods.
Lois had heard nothing from Cowgill, nor had she mentioned her encounter with Jack Jr. to his mother. If, as was possible, the drowned tramp had been Jack Sr., it was going to be tragic and difficult for the Hickson family, but no longer a dangerous threat. She had cautioned Floss to keep the whole thing to herself, promising to let her know if any solution suggested itself.
It was a beautiful morning, and the two set out with Jeems tugging eagerly at her lead. “Walk properly!” said
