She tapped the screen of her phone into life and stared at the keypad. She could ring Kit and explain what was happening or she could even ring the newspaper’s editor for advice but neither option felt right, even though either one would allow her access to the unfolding story. This was much more important than her career.
She tapped three times and put the phone to her ear. It was answered after three rings.
‘Police, please.’
25
Annie watched, terrified, as the man swung the barrel of his rifle towards the students in the front row of the classroom.
‘I asked if anybody wants to confess!’ he yelled.
She could only see the backs of their heads but she knew from the response of the man with the gun that eighteen pale faces were looking anywhere but at him, most seemed to be staring at the desks in front of them but one or two were looking at Miss Frith as though requesting help or guidance. Annie had no idea who had the phone, couldn’t even imagine which one of them would have the balls to do something so risky and so stupid. And, if they’d sent messages to the other students, why hadn’t they contacted their parents or the police?
‘I’ll ask one more time,’ Larry said. ‘And then I’ll start with…’ He scanned the room and then, to Annie’s horror, smiled at Miss Frith. ‘I’ll start with your lovely teacher.’ He lowered the gun and ostentatiously adjusted his crotch.
‘Maybe I won’t shoot her, not straight away.’ He winked at Curly who sneered at him in obvious disgust. Despite her fear, Annie was aware that the three men were no longer on the same page; she just couldn’t work out if that was a good or a bad thing. After her encounter with the other man, the one guarding the door, she wasn’t convinced that any of these threats were real. She didn’t know what their agenda was yet, but everything suggested that much of this was theatre.
‘Well?’ he asked again. ‘Who’s going to do the noble thing and confess?’ Annie saw Harley Morton shift in his seat, but he didn’t look up. Nobody else moved.
She felt a tug on the sleeve of her blouse. Tom was looking up at her, trying to communicate something with his eyes; he shifted them towards the front of the classroom, then down to his lap then back to her face.
She frowned and gave her head a slight shake.
Tom mouthed something and used his thumb to indicate the wound in his side. Was he in pain, was it bleeding again? And then she realised what he was trying to say. He knew who had the phone – it was Harley. Annie mouthed the other boy’s name and Tom gave her the tightest, briefest of nods.
Shit.
If Harley got caught one of the men might do him some serious harm – there was no reason for them not to hurt him just to set an example to the rest of the class. Annie explored her reaction to that scenario and was shocked to find that, while part of her wanted Harley Morton to get whatever was coming to him, another part wanted to protect him. He’d made a huge mistake, but Tom was fine now. Was it fair to throw him to the wolves?
He shifted in his seat again and Annie could see what was going to happen. Harley would confess and would be beaten, or worse and nothing about their situation would change. He had no protection, no lucky charm like she did. There was something about Uncle Gerry that had wrong-footed these men and it might be something she could use.
‘It was me,’ she said, standing up. She heard Tom whimpering ‘No, no, no,’ as he grabbed her ankle, but she shook him off.
‘But I don’t have the phone on me. I’m not stupid: that would be suicidal. I had two phones in my bag and only handed one in. He didn’t know.’ She gave Harley a pointed look. ‘It’s still in the cupboard where I hid.’
Larry lowered his rifle and stared at her, licking his lips. He wasn’t sure, she could tell, but she knew he didn’t want to risk harming her. He knew she was related to Gerry Montrose and, somehow, that was important. As lies went it wasn’t very convincing, but she had to attract their attention away from Harley and, if they believed she’d had another phone and left it somewhere, it might buy him some valuable time.
‘Bollocks,’ he said. ‘If you’ve not got it on you, how could you have sent those texts?’
Annie rolled her eyes, trying to give the impression of frustration with an adult’s lack of technological understanding. ‘I had no signal, but I sent the texts anyway. Sometimes the service in this block comes and goes – I don’t know why. I thought if I left the phone where it was the texts might go eventually.’
‘So, you texted all your friends and then left the phone in the cupboard? Why not keep it and try to call the police? Or your parents? And why leave it in the cupboard if you were trying to escape?’
‘I had no signal,’ Annie repeated, trying to work out a convincing scenario to answer his questions. ‘And I didn’t know if I’d be able to get away. The last thing I wanted was to be caught with a phone on me, so I left it there. I hoped somebody in here might have kept their phone and would have got the message that help was on the way.’
Larry gave her a sceptical sneer. ‘And suddenly your phone has magically connected to the network
