Ursula knocked tentatively on George’s door.
‘Cheryl says there’s a phone call for you,’ she said. ‘I think it’s Paul’s mum.’ She sounded apprehensive and George’s heart sank. Rina’s letter and Karen’s card had given him a bit of a lift, now it looked like he’d have to come back down to earth.
Slowly, he made his way downstairs to where Cheryl was waiting. The phone, off the hook, sat on the hall table. Cheryl patted his shoulder. ‘You OK?’ she asked. ‘Sure?’
He nodded and, reluctantly, picked up the receiver.
‘Hello?’
‘George. Hi, this is Nora, Paul’s mum.’
‘I know,’ he said. He wasn’t likely to forget, was he?
Cheryl retreated to the kitchen but left the door ajar. Ursula, with a small, tight smile, took herself off to the conservatory. From the television room came the sound of voices raised in argument about the choice of channel. George waited for Nora to begin.
‘What happened, George? You were with him. What happened today?’
‘Today?’ It hadn’t just been today. Didn’t she realize that?
‘Yes, today. Don’t be so difficult, George. I want to know what happened.’
‘Is he ok? Is he home?’
‘No, George, he’s not OK. Of course he’s not OK. I don’t think he’s ever going to be OK.’
‘I’m sorry,’ George said. ‘I really am.’
‘Sorry! Is that all you can say? That you’re sorry?’
Her voice cracked and failed and George tried to defend himself. Why was she so mad at him? Hadn’t she noticed the way her son had been behaving, how he felt, that he couldn’t cope? ‘He’s been getting worse and worse and I’ve been telling the teachers and they say they’ve been telling you but you haven’t been helping him. You’ve been doing nothing.’
He was shouting down the phone at her. He hadn’t meant to but he couldn’t take the blame for Paul, not the whole of it.
The noise in the television room had died. They were crowded in the doorway, staring at him. Cheryl came out of the kitchen and shooed them away. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ursula standing hesitantly in the corridor that led down to the conservatory. Her eyes were wide and her mouth set in an anxious line.
‘You did it to him,’ Paul’s mother said. ‘It must have been your idea to go there, torment that old woman. Paul would never have done any of it alone and now my son is … my son is …’
George could not bear the injustice of it. It wasn’t his fault. Not his idea. He’d done everything he could to stop Paul. He stared at Cheryl, wanting to know what to do. Gently, she took the phone from his hand and spoke into the receiver.
‘I think that’s quite enough, don’t you, Mrs Robinson. Call here again and abuse one of my kids and I’ll get a restraining order out on you. Understand?’
Then she slammed the receiver down and took George by the arm, gesturing to Ursula to follow. Then she closed the kitchen door.
‘Pop the kettle on please, Ursula, and see if you can find any cake. I think we all deserve it, don’t you?’
‘She was so mad at me.’
‘She was wrong. Look, George, the headmistress called me today, said if you wanted to come home could I fetch you and she told me what happened. What’s been happening. You’ve done everything you can to help your friend and you don’t deserve that kind of abuse. Understand?’
He nodded, unconvinced. ‘I thought she liked me,’ he said. Then: ‘Sorry, that sounds pathetic.’
‘No, it doesn’t. And I’m sure when she’s got time to think and Paul is better, I’m sure she’ll be really ashamed of what she said to you.’
‘It’s easier to blame kids,’ Ursula said and George was shocked to hear the bitterness in her voice. ‘Kids can’t fight back.’
Stan was liking things less and less. The girl with red hair had been brought aboard just as it was getting dark, and Coran told him it was Duggan’s daughter.
‘What does he want her for? Christ sake, Coran, the coastguard’s been up and down this bit of coast like a swarm of bloody flies all afternoon. Why bring her here? He losing it or what?’
Coran did not immediately reply. The boat was moving out into deeper water, Stan could feel the pull of the waves against the bow as it turned, the dinghy tied up by the steps at the stern clipping and dragging. ‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘What’s his game now and why haven’t we sent the kids back yet? Every day increases the risk, you know that.’
‘You losing your nerve, Stan?’ Coran said, but Stan could see it in his eyes, he was less sure of himself now. Things were not happening in the expected order.
What game was Coran playing? Stan wondered. It was obvious now that Coran had his own agenda and Stan had been willing to wait him out but now, well he wasn’t so sure that Coran understood the rules any more than Stan did.
‘When do we send the kids back?’
Coran shrugged. ‘Should have happened by now,’ he admitted.
‘Haven’t the parents raised the cash?’
‘It isn’t a matter of that. You saw the house, where would they get the kind of money he wants. The dad’s supposed to be doing something for him. I don’t know what. I was supposed to be told but, I don’t know …’
‘He stopped trusting you, maybe? Find out you’re planning on crossing him?’
Coran was scathing. ‘He thought that and we’d both be dead. I recruited you, remember. You think he’d believe you’re not involved too?’
‘Involved in what?’
Coran shook his head. ‘Look,’ he said finally. ‘There was this bloke called Randall, eighteen months or so ago. He’s a weird bugger. Weird as Haines and then some, I reckon. He cut me this deal, see. Wants to take Haines down because of what he did to his son. Randall found a way of following the money. Don’t ask me how. Not my thing, but he got on to Goldman, the twins’ dad. I don’t know what Haines has on him but it’s enough to make him dance to any tune the boss wants to sing. Goldman’s between a rock and a hard place. Randall and Haines. Randall was supposed to have got the kids out, and Goldman was meant to divert the money his way. That’s all I know.’
‘So, what’s the delay?’
Coran shrugged. ‘Like I told you, that’s all I know. Randall let something slip about a deal that Haines wants to be a part of, something happening on the stock market, I don’t know. Reckons he could make a killing if he got the right information. He figures Haines would have worked that out too. I don’t know. It started out that Randall just wanted revenge for what Haines did to his kid, then it was like it all changed. Like that didn’t matter any more. It’s almost like his kid was just property; like Haines ripped him off on a deal and now he wants to get back at Haines for stiffing him on a deal.’ He shrugged again. ‘Look, it’s not like we’re dealing with normal people here, is it? You could never accuse Haines of that and I just figure Randall’s the same.’
Stan absorbed that. He wasn’t sure he and Coran could be classified as normal either but he was pretty sure he’d count any child of his higher than any amount of cash.
‘And Goldman, the money man, he’s the one giving them the information?’
‘Something like that, all I know is bits I’ve picked up. Haines is only “need to know”, Randall’s the same.’
‘And the kids are stuffed either way.’
‘The kids won’t get hurt.’
‘You believe that? Then you’ve lost what brains you had, Coran. And what about the girl?’
Coran shrugged. ‘I guess her dad’s making too many waves,’ he said. ‘Maybe he’s got to run out of kids before he takes notice.’