‘No. There’s a class still in there.’ Paula Railton, PHSE co-ordinator pushed her way through the throng, her face pale beneath her customary heavy make-up. ‘A man in a ski mask with a gun came to my form room. He told the students to wait at the door to the building and then he put the staff in H3. I was watching from the classroom door – the kids were amazing. So calm.’ She took a deep, shaky breath. ‘He let them go a few at a time. Then the staff. But not all of us.’
Cam studied the small group of teachers. Donna Frith wasn’t there.
‘Miss Frith’s class?’
‘They’re still in there,’ Paula confirmed. ‘There was another man at the door to her room and I think there might have been at least one more inside. I’m sorry, Cam.’
Cleaver nodded and instructed Paula to get the handful of staff who had been in the humanities block to an empty room. The police would no doubt want to interview them about what had happened and about the people still being held hostage. One teacher and one group of sixth-form students. At least it wasn’t the whole school. It could be manageable. Less than twenty people held hostage – out of nearly a thousand. And nobody hurt so far. The police would be there any second. He kept repeating the numbers to himself – trying to block out the one thing that mattered now.
His son, Tom, was in Donna Frith’s form group.
Before
‘Andy, I’ve just taken out a huge mortgage. Do you know how expensive it is to live in the National Park and how lucky I was to find somewhere that I could afford?’ Donna had almost yelled in frustration as her brother tried again to explain why she needed to help him out with her mother’s care. It wasn’t fair. He had a decent job at Sellafield, good pay and plenty of bonuses – why should she have to be the one to compromise? She hadn’t chosen the expensive nursing home in Silloth. She hadn’t sold her mother’s house for a sum that was now looking like it would barely cover the first few years’ care.
‘Look, Donna,’ Andy continued, ignoring her objections. ‘I’ve been the one having to make all the decisions while you were living away. I’ve had to shoulder the responsibility. It’s not like I’m asking you to pay for everything.’
‘Andy. I don’t have the money. All my savings went on the deposit for the house.’ Donna turned to look out of her sitting room window. A frown of cloud was sitting across the northern fells, obscuring the summits. She did feel guilty, of course she did, but her brother had reassured her that he had things under control and now he was the one letting the family down not her.
‘It’s not that simple anymore, Donna. I thought I could manage it, but something’s come up. I really need your help. Mum really needs your help.’
The emotional blackmail was almost laughable it was so obvious. Donna wasn’t going to give in though – Andy was her big brother and he’d promised to sort out their mum’s care.
‘Look, Andy, we can always move her somewhere cheaper if the money’s running out. I never understood why you chose The Larches anyway – it was always going to be too expensive.’
Silence at the other end of the phone.
‘Andy?’
A heavy sigh. ‘Donna. Can we meet up somewhere? There’s stuff you don’t know, and I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.’
‘What stuff?’
‘My financial situation is a bit – complicated. Let’s get a pub meal somewhere and have a chat.’
This wasn’t like her brother. Ever since they’d been children, Andy had always been the one in charge, the one with the ideas and Donna had always trusted him, relied on him to some extent. Now he sounded unsure of himself, worn down and desperate.
‘Okay. Tomorrow at the Dog and Duck. Sevenish?’
‘Thanks, Donna. I’m sorry.’
Donna hung up on his apology and went back to her marking, determined not to let his comments about their mum relying on her distract her from what was important in her life.
The Dog and Duck was a popular gastro pub high on a minor road above Caldbeck. A common choice for school gatherings and department Christmas events, Donna had chosen it for its location rather than the menu. She didn’t really want to run into any of her colleagues but the pub was almost perfectly located halfway between her house and her brother’s so she decided to risk having to make small talk with a colleague rather than have to drive further or listen to her brother complain about the distance.
As soon as she stepped through the imposing double doors, she saw that she needn’t have worried. It was mid-week in December – 6.30 obviously wasn’t the optimum time for dining or drinking. Donna looked round to check that Andy hadn’t arrived before her – she hadn’t spotted his BMW in the car park but she knew that he liked to change his car regularly so he might have been driving the top-of-the-range Merc or the brand-new Audi that sat near the edge of the road as if on display in an upmarket showroom.
There was no sign of her brother in any of the nooks and snugs of the main room of the pub and she doubted he’d be in the small bar where the pool table and dartboard were the main attractions so she strode across to the bar and ordered a lime and soda. She really fancied a cold glass of white wine, but she decided to wait and see if Andy wanted to have a meal while they ‘chatted’.
Making her way across to a table in one of the alcoves near the front of the pub, she glanced out of the window and saw her brother crossing
