Tuesday. 5.30am. Be ready. You’ll be collected.
‘What the hell…?’
He untangled the black fabric and stepped back in shock.
It was a ski mask.
13
‘I think we need to keep this group separate from the rest of the school,’ Pearson said as he opened the door to the computer room and beckoned Cam out into the corridor. ‘If they tell anybody about the gunmen it could cause a panic.’
Cam could see the wisdom in this approach but the logistics were going to be tricky. ‘We can’t keep them here,’ he said. ‘We need to get everybody off site. I think most of the students and staff should be away by now.’ He checked his watch and saw that it was half an hour since Pearson had called for backup. Time seemed to be doing strange things – it felt like hours since he’d spoken to the year twelve assembly but only a few seconds since he’d been running through the corridors to see what was happening in the humanities block. ‘Have you any idea when the specialist team will arrive?’
Pearson exhaled heavily through his nose, indicating that Cam was really testing his patience. ‘If I knew, I’d tell you. It’s over an hour from Kendal to here and there have been problems on the motorway. Even with blues and twos it’d be difficult for them to get through a blocked road.’
Cam nodded. It made sense but the panic kept telling him that they should be here by now.
‘Mr Cleaver, where can we send this group of students and teachers? We need a space that will hold them all.’
Cam thought. The theatre had been a great idea, but it had also been the obvious choice for a haven for the pupils and teachers. There were a few cafés and restaurants in town but none big enough for such a large group.
‘The leisure centre,’ he said. ‘Their main hall isn’t huge, but it should easily be big enough. It’s a ten-minute walk and it’s nowhere near the theatre. I’ll get Ruth to give them a ring.’
Pearson nodded. ‘I think that will work. I’ll ask Brooks to go with them so he can ask a few more questions.’
‘They’re good kids,’ Cam said. ‘It’s a shame they’ve got caught up in this.’
‘They’ll be fine,’ Pearson reassured him. ‘Kids that age are usually quite resilient. We’ll make sure there’s counselling for anybody who needs it.’
There would be some who’d definitely need it, Cam thought. Not just kids. There were four members of staff in the computer room and they’d all need a lot of support in the aftermath of this. And then there were the parents – how many would push for help for their children whatever their level of involvement or trauma? If he knew Fellbeck parents he’d expect at least half of the school population to be in counselling for months.
Thinking about the parents made him feel breathless with guilt and confusion. He was supposed to be keeping their loved ones safe – they trusted him – but none of them had been informed about the current danger. Not even the ones in Donna Frith’s form. Pearson had advised him to hold off contacting families until the specialist team had arrived, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his own son. How would it look if he knew what was happening to Tom but hadn’t told the other parents? And then there was Annie Bainbridge. Penny must be beside herself with terror. He’d wanted to comfort her but he knew exactly how she’d respond if he dared to touch her in school – even in a gesture of friendly affection – she was completely paranoid about the other staff knowing that they were seeing each other.
‘Right,’ Pearson said, breaking through Cam’s rambling thoughts. ‘I’ll stay here and explain to Brooks what I want him to do. I’ll see if I can get any more information from the students and staff as well. You go back to reception and see if you can get in touch with somebody at the leisure centre. I noticed there’s a phone in this classroom – when you’ve made arrangements get your secretary to ring through and we’ll get everybody out of here.’
Cam sprinted back to reception where he found Ruth and Penny deep in conversation. He wasn’t sure whether it was his imagination, but his PA seemed strangely frosty with him when he asked her to ring the leisure centre.
‘Connected,’ she said, passing him the handset. Cam fumbled it, the smooth plastic offering little purchase, but he managed to catch the cable and use it to bring the phone under control. He’d been expecting Ruth to explain and to make the arrangements – this wasn’t his job. His job was…?
‘BFL Leisure, can I help you?’
‘Yes. I– er… I’m ringing from Fellbeck Academy. I need to send some of our students across to you. Would that be possible?’
‘For which activity, sir. The main hall is booked from 11am and the pool is lane swimming until noon. The gym is available on a pay-as-you-go basis.’
‘No. I need a space to hold a group of around eighty students and staff due to an emergency evacuation. They’ll be accompanied by a police officer who’ll be able to explain fully.’
The silence at the other end of the line wasn’t reassuring. ‘You’ll need to make a booking at least–’
‘I don’t have time to make a booking! This is an emergency. I need to get these people to safety. Can you help?’
Pearson should be doing this, Cam thought. The detective inspector had the authority, but all Cam had was a loud voice and a very shallow reserve of patience.
‘Sir, as I said, the main hall is booked and that’s the only space large enough.’
‘Well unbook it! Please. The police officer will explain and I’m sure your customers will understand. The safety of these students is at stake.’
Unbelievably he was put on hold. Annoying muzak filled the earpiece but was quickly replaced by a firm female voice. ‘Hello, sir.
