‘Annie was very weak, poor lady,’ said Liz impatiently. ‘You said yourself. People say all sorts when they’re not thinking straight.’
‘But that’s just it,’ said Thelma. ‘Shewasthinking straight, I’m sure of it.’ She sighed, thinking of that still figure on the bed. Was Annie even still alive? Hopefully the peace she’d seen had remained with the woman.
‘Of course,’ said Liz, ‘it could have been Son who somehow confronted Neville and Annie thought he was wrong to do it. Son was wrong to shout at Neville…’
‘But even if itwasSon who did it,’ said Pat, ‘you can’t get away from the fact he was an hour’s drive away at six thirty. Half an hour before Neville had his shouting match. They all were – Son, Annie, Chloe, Caro – all of them. According to Google Maps, Pity Me is a fifty-seven-minute drive away from Hollinby. Rod said you might just make it in forty-five if you break the speed limit – but remember you’re talking the tail end of rush hour round Durham.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a pity Ffion’s been ruled out – at least she was actually in the building even if it was only for five minutes.’
‘Ruled out?’ Thelma looked interrogatively at her.
‘Oh yes.’ Pat gave a grin. ‘You missed some right fun and games earlier on.CSI: Thirskstarring Liz Newsome.’
‘Give over,’ said Liz, flushing slightly. ‘It was as much you as it was me.’
‘It was not!’ said Pat. ‘I was just the heavy backup.’
After Pat had finished telling the tale, Thelma took Liz’s hand. ‘Well done you,’ she said, and Liz flushed. ‘Anyway …’ Thelma stood up with the sombre air of someone heading for the gallows. ‘I must be away. As I say, I need to be logged on to the speed awareness website by midday.’
Pat stood and gave her friend a rare hug. ‘You’ll be fine, my love,’ she said.
Thelma nodded. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I drove all the way to Annie’s and back, and I drove here and really, I’m okay. It’s just the whole thing – I feel so judged …’
There was a sympathetic silence. They both knew exactly how she felt. So many times, as classroom teachers they had been judged and found wanting in some way. It was an experience that had never grown any easier. Indeed, as they had grown old the fear of being judged seemed to have grown more powerful rather than the reverse.
‘You’re a good driver,’ said Liz. ‘Just focus on that and ignore whatever pantomime they make you sit through.’
Son smiled; the amiable face slightly blurred on the screen. Tiffany-Jane smiled warmly back. ‘It’s good to see you!’ she said. ‘How are you, Son?’
The question was – despite the ulterior motive behind it – warm and sincere. Pat reflected that it had been very fortunate that Tiffany had been sitting rather aimlessly around when she arrived home. The girl had listened attentively – almost avidly – to her account of the morning’s events, shaking her head, widening her eyes and at one point exclaiming, ‘No way!’ Jax had been labelled a ‘misguided soul’ and Annie had prompted a cry of ‘Bless!’ When Pat had told her about Annie’s murmured, cryptic words she’d nodded and said decisively, ‘We need to Zoom Son Masters.’
‘And say what?’ asked Pat doubtfully. ‘It’s a bit out of the blue don’t you think?’
‘Oh no,’ said Tiffany airily. ‘I’ve messaged him a few times since we met him, poor love.’ She frowned considering. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘this is one of them times you need to ask someone point-blank.’
It was with this sentiment in mind Pat sat now, watching Son nodding at them from in front of a pale-yellow virtual sunrise.
‘I’m doing good,’ he said. ‘I’m in phase – and in tune.’ He made a little punching movement with his fists and Tiffany clapped her hands.
‘Excellent,’ she said.
‘And thanks for the mention you gave me,’ said Son. ‘I’ve had six, seven reach-outs.’
‘That is so brilliant!’ said Tiffany. ‘Now.’ The voice changed into something more assertive. ‘Son, I have something to ask you. And if it’s in any way intrusive I must apologise.’
‘Okay.’ Son frowned, looking puzzled.
‘It turns out,’ said Tiffany, ‘that a friend of ours knows Davey’s boss.’
‘Annie?’
Tiffany nodded. ‘You know she’s ill?’
A cloud crossed over the amiable face. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I mean she’s been ill a long time; I keep meaning to check in on her.’
‘Now, the thing is,’ interrupted Tiffany, ‘Annie mentioned Davey’s memorial service – but said there was somethingwrong– maybe to do with it … and we were wondering what she could mean?’
Son frowned. ‘The service they held at the school?’
Tiffany nodded. ‘Do you rememberanythingabout it that seemed in any waywrong.’
