‘Hang on.’ Cam raised a hand, palm facing her. ‘We checked the register. You were in my office. There were no absences in Donna Frith’s tutor group.’
‘No that’s–’
‘He’s right,’ Ruth said, dumping an armful of green first aid boxes on the counter. ‘They’re all there.’
‘No, I–’
‘So that’s two of you with children trapped in that classroom,’ Pearson said. ‘Which could mean that either one of you could be the target. I think it’s time to talk about who might want to do this as punishment. God knows there are enough villains out there who’ve got all sorts of grudges, but it takes a lot of organisation to pull off something like his. This is sophisticated. So, think. Any threats from irate parents? Ex-students? I’ll get paramedics on standby.’ Pearson turned away and put his mobile phone to his ear.
Cam stared at Penny Bainbridge who seemed to have aged ten years in ten seconds. Had she believed that her daughter was safe? Was that why she wasn’t concentrating and kept disappearing? Well, hopefully, he could rely on her full attention from this point onwards. They both had the same thing to lose.
‘Sort out the first aid,’ he snapped. ‘Keep yourself busy; that’s what I’ve been trying to do.’
‘I can’t… I don’t…’
Cam was seriously tempted to slap her. He’d have an excuse – she was glazing over, losing focus – but he didn’t trust himself to use an appropriate amount of force to jolt her out of her stupor. It wasn’t just Penny. He wanted to hit everybody within striking distance. He wanted to smash the windows and rip up the carpets and scream at the top of his voice.
‘Penny! Get a grip!’ he said, taking a step back, keeping her out of range. She knew him better than anybody in the school and he didn’t want her to see what was in his eyes. Cam grabbed one of the green packages, unzipped it and dumped the contents on the reception desk.
‘Sort through that lot. We need gauze, bandages and antiseptic cream.’
Penny looked at the pile on the desk and then back at Cam. ‘Okay. I’m okay. You do that, I’ll go and get my handbag. I’ll have some painkillers in there.’
‘You sure?’
Penny nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Cam. I just lost it for a minute. I really thought Annie was safe. I can help.’ She pushed past him, entered the code on the keypad and went through the door into the corridor that led to the staffroom. Cam inclined his head slightly to watch her through the glass in the top panel. She seemed to be walking steadily, no sign of the shakiness that he’d seen earlier but, just as he was about to focus on finding some bandages, he was startled to see Penny take her mobile phone out of her pocket and put it to her ear. Who the fuck was she calling? The police were already here, and the paramedics had been notified. Surely she wouldn’t try to contact her daughter.
He was about to follow her down the corridor and see what was going on when his mobile rang. He glanced at the screen. Jack Raynor.
‘Jack?’ he answered.
‘Cam. The students are on the move. Looks like the message got through without any issues. Year seven were in maths and I think that corridor’s clear now. I’ve seen some year eights and nines in the car park as well. I’m going to head down to the theatre and do a headcount. I’ve printed out attendance info from SIMS so I’ll get form tutors to check their forms. I’ll text when I know everybody’s safe.’
‘Thanks, Jack. Keep in touch.’ He hung up and pushed open the door to the corridor.
‘Mr Cleaver?’ Pearson had put a hand on his arm, stopping him from going any further.
Cam clenched his fist, another sudden spurt of anger overwhelming him. ‘What?’
Pearson looked apologetic. ‘I’m sorry but I need you here. I’ve got a team about to arrive and we’re expecting another call from our mystery hostage taker in…’ he looked at his watch, ‘…six minutes. I’ve also put in a request for an armed response unit. They’ll be coming up from Kendal and I’m expecting them within the hour. You know the school better than anybody. You know how everything works. I need you here and I need you to focus.’
Pearson’s earnest expression cowed Cam. ‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Okay. What do you need me to do?’
Pearson visibly straightened as though he’d been shouldering a burden which had just been removed. ‘Wait until this man calls back and do whatever he asks. A medical emergency changes things. We can’t risk any of the students.’ His phone chirped and he snatched it from his pocket studying the screen with a frown. ‘Okay. The ARU might be a while, there’s a problem on the M6. I need somebody to get the library set up so that the negotiation team can get to business as soon as they arrive.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Penny said, emerging from the corridor. She held out two packets of pills. ‘I found some co-codamol in my bag and some paracetamol.’ The make-up around her eyes was slightly less than immaculate and Cam wondered if she’d needed some time alone to have a cry.
‘Who were you phoning?’ he asked, hearing the accusatory tone in his voice but unable to do anything to mitigate it.
‘Annie’s dad. I needed to let him know what’s going on. She’s supposed to be safe with me and I feel like I let him down. I let them both down.’ Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears.
‘What about the other parents? The ones of the kids in Donna’s form?’ Ruth Warnesford asked. ‘Shouldn’t we let them know? As soon as the students start walking into town they’re going to be texting their friends and family.’
‘I– er… I…’ Cam had no idea. He hadn’t thought about other parents in his situation, other than Penny, and couldn’t work out the best course of action. His thoughts were sluggish when he tried to think about anything beyond the immediate situation or of anybody other than his son.
‘Not yet,’ Pearson said. ‘It’s possible that the situation might be resolved. The last thing we need is a crowd of anxious parents at the gates, getting in the way. Ms Bainbridge, please go back to the library and make sure everything’s ready. Mr Cleaver, we need to find out what these men want and our best chance is–’
‘Hang on,’ Cam said. ‘Are you the best qualified person to deal with this? We’ve got a hostage situation here. I watch enough TV to know we should have a trained negotiator with us. Maybe more than one.’
Pearson glared at him. ‘I’ve had specialist training. That’s why I was sent. Do you think that the Cumbria force is big enough for every individual to only do one job? Ever heard of multi-tasking?’ Pearson’s voice was growing louder as he seemed to spit out the strain of the situation directly at Cam. ‘Some of the team who’re on their way also have experience of hostage negotiation. For God’s sake, Cleaver, this isn’t Line of Duty and we’re not the bloody Met.’
Ruth Warnesford looked up from where she was sorting through the contents of the first aid kits. ‘I think we all need to take a breath,’ she said, her tone mild, her eyes concerned, and Cam remembered why she was so good at her job. What a school, or any organisation needed from a receptionist was unflappability and, in most circumstances, Ruth Warnesford was unflappable.
‘I’ve put all the gauze and bandages in one package with the paracetamol and a couple of rolls of sticking plaster. I’m not sure about the codeine though. It’s very strong and pharmacists always tell you not to use it for more than three days. That’s adults. If it’s one of the students who’s injured–’
‘Just put it in with everything else. With any luck it’s one of the gunmen who’s hurt and it’ll knock him out,’ Cam snapped. ‘I don’t see–’
He was interrupted by the phone ringing. Ruth stared at it for a few seconds and then locked her frightened eyes on Cam’s.
‘Answer it,’ Pearson instructed, moving closer to the reception desk. Ruth picked up the receiver.
‘It’s him,’ she said. ‘He says he wants to talk to the police officer.’
9
Tom Cleaver pressed a fresh sanitary towel to his wound, wincing at the stinging pain
. He was fairly sure that the blood flow was slowing down and that he wasn’t too badly hurt. He’d felt the knife go in like a hot sizzle in his flesh and then the sight of his own blood had made him woozy, so he’d slumped down against the wall. Annie had been fantastic; much stronger than he would have believed possible, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Since they’d resumed their relationship after the blip in the summer when they’d discovered that his dad and her mum were seeing each other, they’d opted to keep things quiet – only a handful of their friends knew that they were an item – anything else would have been too complicated. Tom had barely spoken to his dad about Ms Bainbridge; he’d hardly spoken to him at all since July because, really, what was there to say?
It was weird, sitting on the floor. It was almost like Tom could see what was really going on amongst his friends. Above the desks they were alert and attentive but, underneath there was a completely different story. Jamie Anderson’s leg was jiggling manically up and down while his upper body remained still and tense. Katie Davies had her eyes fixed on the man next to the door and was probably unaware that her right hand had almost completely unpicked the hem of her blouse. Some were holding hands. Jess and Louise had their fingers wound together, clinging to each other for support while Stacey had her fingernails almost embedded in Alex’s arm.
Only Harley had both hands above his desk. He was resting his head on his clenched fists, the back of his neck exposed and almost vulnerable looking, as though he were presenting it to an executioner. What the fuck had he been thinking bringing a knife into school? And why had he used it? It’s not like Tom had backed him into a corner or done much to provoke him. He’d always suspected that Harley had a short fuse – he’d seen him boss a few year sevens around – but he’d never expected him to do anything like this.
‘You doing okay?’ Annie asked. ‘You look a bit pale.’
Tom nodded. ‘Not too bad. I think the bleeding’s slowing down.’
‘Shh,’ Annie said and, for a second, Tom thought she was telling him to keep quiet to save his energy, but her eyes told him something different. She didn’t want the men to know that his injury might not be as serious as they’d thought.
‘What…?’
She put her index finger to her lips. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she murmured. ‘You need to look really ill and in pain.’
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Larry snapped. Tom could see that the stabbing had him rattled. It wasn’t in the script and he obviously hadn’t been prepared to improvise. Larry was supposed to be in charge but his eyes, behind the ski mask, looked wide and frightened. And a frightened man was a dangerous man. A frightened man with a gun, well that didn’t bear thinking about.
‘I’m just trying to keep him calm,’ Annie said. ‘I don’t want him to go into shock. He’s not doing very well.’
Larry’s eyes flicked from Tom to Annie. ‘Just do what you need to do. But no whispering. I’m in charge so everything goes through me.’
‘How long until we get some medical supplies?’ Annie asked. ‘I’m on the last of the sanitary towels. If I can’t stop the bleeding, he’s not going to stay conscious for much longer.’
Larry ignored her.
‘I said, how long?’
Tom reached out to grab her wrist. What the hell was she trying to do? If she antagonised the man in charge, it was less likely that this situation would go well. He looked round the room. All eyes were on Annie. Even Miss Frith was looking at her with a mixture of apprehension and awe.
‘Look!’ Annie held up a bloody sanitary towel that Tom had used about five minutes previously. It was sodden and dripped as she squeezed the top. ‘I need something else and I need it now!’
Larry turned to face her. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
Annie stood up and Tom heard several of his classmates inhale loudly in anticipation of a confrontation. ‘I need something absorbent to stem the blood flow. There’s nothing in here and there’s no guarantee that there’s anything on the way. For all you know there might be armed police ready to storm the block in the next few minutes. But even that might be too late.’
Tom could see that Larry was uncertain. The man’s eyes were darting from side to side as he considered his options. Still unclear about Annie’s plan, Tom shifted his position and gave a mostly fake hiss of pain.
‘There’s a sanitary towel machine in the girls’ toilets, just down the corridor. One of you could go and get some.’
Larry smiled, the effect chilling because his eyes remained narrowed with suspicion.
‘Oh, that’s your plan? Get rid of one of us, shorten the odds? Two against twenty instead of three? Not fucking happening, sweetheart.’
Annie shook her head frantically. ‘There’s no plan. You’ve all got weapons, what difference does it make? Two of you or three, we’re still being held at gunpoint.’
This was baffling. What the hell was she playing at? Was there any benefit of getting one of the men out of the room?
‘Where is this machine?’ one of the other men asked. Tom thought it was the one who’d been nicknamed Mo. ‘I don’t mind going.’
Larry turned towards him furious. ‘No! Let me think.’ He grabbed the butt of his automatic weapon and stroked it as though it had talismanic properties. The other man stuck his hands in the sides of his flak jacket and glared round at the class, trying to intimidate them into keeping quiet while his boss tried to decide what to do.
‘Right,’ Larry said and Curly shifted his hands to his sides expectantly. ‘I’m not sending one of my men off on a wild goose chase. Got that, missy?’ He pointed a gloved finger at Annie. ‘So, you can go with him. If you’re that worried about your boyfriend, you’ll be straight there and back. If you’re not back in five, then one of your little friends will have to face the consequences.’
Mutters of protest from the students were instantly silenced by Larry’s hand moving towards the trigger of his weapon. Tom watched Annie’s reaction, trying to work out if this was what she’d wanted, but she was giving nothing away as she nodded at the man.
‘Got it,’ she said.
Annie knelt back down next to him and grabbed the hand that wasn’t covering his wound. She looked close to tears as she smiled at him. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ she said. ‘Just hang on.’
Tom smiled back at her, trying to make the gesture look as weak and pathetic as possible – not a difficult task as he was genuinely frightened for her.
‘Come on then,’ Mo said from the door. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
Annie stood up and crossed the classroom, the eyes of each one of her classmates following every step. She looked back briefly as the armed man turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Then she was gone.
Larry glanced at the chunky watch on his wrist, emphasising his deadline to those left in the room. ‘Right, as you were,’ he said with a grin that, to Tom’s eyes, looked worryingly manic.
The silence in the room was almost suffocating. It felt like Annie had taken most of the oxygen with her when she’d left, and Tom realised that his classmates were even more terrified than they had been before. Everybody in the room seemed to jump as Larry’s phone rang, the sound oddly incongruous amid the tension. The man answered but didn’t say anything suggesting it was a call he’d been expecting, or he was deferring to the caller. He hung up and scanned the room.
‘Which one of you is Annie Bainbridge?’
The silence which greeted his question seemed to make him nervous. ‘I said–’
‘She’s the one who’s just gone out,’ Jess mumbled.
Larry looked at the door and then at his phone as though trying to decide something. Tom thought he was going to make a call but, instead, he started typing frantically on the keypad. Something was wrong and that something involved Annie. This wasn’t making sense. First his dad and now his girlfriend. What the hell was going on?
Tom shook his head. He was starting to feel drowsy. He knew it wasn’t
blood loss because there wasn’t much bleeding now. Was he hungry? Had the wound got infected so quickly that it was making him ill? He couldn’t think. Then he realised – this had happened before. He’d been in shock and it was wearing off. That’s what the exhaustion was about. But he needed to stay awake and alert. He couldn’t give in to it no matter how much he wanted to. Last time he’d slept for nearly a full day. And nothing had changed when he’d woken up.
Before
The maths problem had made no sense. Tom usually ‘got’ maths. He was predicted an A grade for his GCSE and his teacher had suggested that he might want to go on to study the subject at A-level but they’d been working on quadratic equations for the past few lessons and he was struggling. It seemed like at least three out of the ten questions on each page made no sense at all.
‘You done number six?’ he asked Dan who was sitting back in his seat and surreptitiously glancing down at the phone in his lap.
‘Huh?’
‘Number six. It doesn’t make sense.’
Dan straightened up and looked over at Tom’s exercise book. ‘You’ve copied it down wrong. It’s 4x squared, you’ve put 2x squared.’
Tom made the correction and tried the problem again. He wrote down the answer and flipped to the back of the textbook to check it. Still not right. ‘Shit,’ he murmured.
Dan was looking at his phone again.
‘You’re going to get that taken off you,’ Tom warned. ‘What’s so interesting?’
‘Text from my mum. The A595’s blocked. Buses can’t get through. She says to walk down into town and she’ll pick me up near Tesco.’
‘What’s happened?’
Dan shrugged. ‘Accident probably. Pain in the arse having to walk into town.’
‘You two! Get on!’ Mr Jackson snapped from behind his computer monitor. Tom looked up but the teacher was focused on his screen. How did they do that? Tom wondered. So many teachers just seemed to sense when somebody wasn’t doing what they were supposed to. He looked back down at the textbook and wrote down the next problem – correctly this time – and managed to solve it easily.
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