by Jim Eldridge
Stark looked at his father, surprised at the note of concern in his voice. Then it struck him that his father had never considered what he did as dangerous; he was a policeman, yes, but one in an office, and offices weren’t thought of as dangerous places.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m all right.’
‘Will you be going out tonight?’ asked Sarah.
Stark looked at her in surprise. He’d always thought of his mother as one who avoided confrontations or anything controversial. Yet here she was, bringing Amelia into it; there could be no one else she could be referring to.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I thought I would. If that’s all right with you.’
‘Yes,’ said Sarah firmly. ‘It’s all right with us.’
Automatically, Stark looked at Henry, who hesitated, then nodded. ‘If your mother says it’s all right, it’s all right,’ he said.
The door was opened by Amelia.
‘Servants away?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been opening the door to every damned caller since I heard the King’s broadcast,’ she said. ‘Especially after I saw in the papers about the explosion and the shootings.’ She looked at him, angry. ‘You should have telephoned!’
‘You might have told me not to call.’
She reached out and grabbed him by the coat and pulled him in through the door. ‘If you try to cut me out again, I’ll kill you!’ she said. ‘Are you staying?’
He pushed the door shut with his foot. ‘Yes,’ he said.