Marion Lennox - A Child In Need

‘I ain’t going to remand school.’

‘Hey, Len, just think about it,’ Nick urged gently. ‘While we sleep.’

‘Another story, I think,’ Nick said as he returned to his mat. Shanni’s eyes were wide with appreciation.

As were Nick’s. This woman was extraordinary. As he’d made Len warm and comfortable and soothed his terror, she’d given Len what he most needed-hope. Len was dead tired, and, if Nick’s guess was right, he was full of sleeping pills. Now all they had to do was set the mood-and Shanni was right onto that.

‘How about if I read Goodnight, Goodnight ?’ she suggested.

‘Harry’s asleep already,’ Nick said reluctantly. He’d lifted Harry into his arms again, unthinking, as if it was an instinctive movement. It was starting to feel as if the child belonged there.

‘He might wake up if I don’t keep reading,’ Shanni said softly. ‘If I keep my reading going I’ll soothe him into sleeping for ever.’

Or who else might she soothe into sleep?

It was so…seductive.

Shanni had turned on the heater and the room was warm-almost over-warm. The huge breakfast had made Nick feel so sated he almost needed sleep again himself, even though it was only two hours since he’d woken. The child in his arms slept on and on, catching up on missed time.

Shanni’s voice was low and sweet and melodic-soothing him toward rest.

If Nick hadn’t been watching Len…

But he was. He was watching Len like a hawk. The gun was slowly slipping. It must be so heavy.

Please let those outside not use the loud hailer or try to contact him again, Nick thought, but if Shanni’s brother had twigged as to why she wanted the hay fever tablets then they wouldn’t be so stupid.

They weren’t.

Shanni read and Nick watched Len-and Nick watched Shanni. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breast, and he listened to the soft lilting of her voice. If I was three years old this is where I’d like to go to kindergarten, he thought dazedly, and had to shake himself. No one had ever read him stories. Not ever!

For heaven’s sake, he was thirty-two years old. This was stupid. He was feeling like this just because it was a novelty. A situation like this…

A woman like Shanni…

He’d never met anyone like her.

And finally her voice fell away to nothing.

And she’d succeeded.

‘He’s asleep,’ she said softly. At the window, Len’s face had fallen forward so his chin was resting on his chest. His gun had fallen to one side in the chair and his hands were lifeless. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

‘Len?’ Shanni asked softly.

‘Leave him be for a bit,’ Nick said. ‘We’ve worked on this. Let’s not spoil it by hurrying.’

‘ We’ve worked on this?’

He grinned at that, tension easing. ‘Okay, smartyboots. You’ve worked on it. How many tablets did you give him?’

‘Four at twenty-five milligrams.’

‘Enough to stop the worst sneezing.’

‘Even mine,’ she said virtuously. She wrinkled her nose and her eyes danced. ‘See? Not even a sniffle.’

‘Miraculous. How many did you take?’

‘Hmm. Somewhere between zero and none. I can’t quite remember.’

He smiled and they waited on, both knowing that once Len was deeply asleep they had nothing to fear. Ten minutes. Fifteen. It was strangely intimate: sitting in a pile of bedding holding the child in his arms with Shanni watching over them.

‘He has such huge problems,’ she said out of the blue.

‘Who?’ Were they talking about Len?

They weren’t. ‘Harry, of course.’ She sighed, placing a hand on Harry’s mop of fair curls. ‘I’m so worried about him. They’re threatening to put him into a home for psychologically disturbed children.’

‘Is he?’

‘Psychologically disturbed?’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Wouldn’t you be if your dad was dead and your mother and stepfather hated you?’ And then she frowned at the look on Nick’s face. ‘Why? What have I said?’

‘Nothing.’ He somehow put aside shadows of past hurt and shook his head. ‘This has nothing to do with me. Or you, either, as far as I can see. He’s just one of your students, isn’t he? What do you get from taking the worries of the world onto your shoulders?’

‘Meaning you think I’m stupid for trying?’

‘Maybe.’ He shrugged.

She gave him a long, measuring look. ‘No. You don’t mean that. For a lawyer, I thought you were pretty good to Len just then.’

‘I’m a magistrate. I have to learn niceties.’

‘Legal niceties. Not human niceties. But…you were nice just now. It wasn’t all an act.’

How did she know that? She didn’t!

‘So how about you, then?’ he demanded, changing tack. Talking about him made him feel like running a mile. ‘Surely your family-your uncle with the car dealership-wouldn’t seriously think about employing such a kid?’

‘There’s no hope for him if someone doesn’t,’ she said sadly. ‘So maybe it’s just as well there are people like my family in the world. People who care.’

‘People who’ll get walked all over.’

‘Says you.’ She shrugged. ‘The nice magistrate who tries so hard not to be. Nice, I mean.’ And then she smiled, letting him off the hook where he was beginning to squirm. ‘Anyway, maybe…’ She cast a long look across at Len-and another at Harry. ‘While we have both our children sound asleep, I think it’s time we got ourselves out of here, don’t you?’

‘I couldn’t agree more. I’ll get the gun.’

It was time to leave. But there was a part of him-a part which he didn’t understand in the least-that didn’t want to leave at all.

There was no choice. Move…

But when he went to hand over Harry, the child’s arms tightened like a vice, and if Nick had tried to disengage him he would have woken and sobbed.

So when the kindergarten door opened and Shanni, Nick and Harry emerged, to the huge relief of the waiting constabulary, it was the new town magistrate who was holding the baby, and it was the kindergarten teacher who was holding the gun.

AND after that it was over-sort of. Police officers surged into the building and emerged with one dazed sixteen-year-old who looked half asleep and as if he didn’t know what was happening.

‘Please look after him,’ Shanni said softly as he emerged, handcuffed and secured. ‘He’s just a scared kid.’

But the police were taking no chances. He was taken away, sirens screaming, while Nick and Shanni blinked in the unaccustomed daylight and Harry stirred in Nick’s arms and started to sob.

A woman-in her late twenties, dishevelled and fearful-emerged from the crowd and tried to take him from Nick’s arms. ‘Harry. Oh, baby, we’ve been so worried. Come to Wendy.’

This, then, must be the woman in charge of Harry’s home within the orphanage, but Harry was unimpressed. He clung desperately to Nick, and as she tried to take him he screamed.

But Nick had had enough. There was nothing more he could do. He unfastened the desperate fingers and placed the weeping bundle of baby into the woman’s outstretched arms.

‘He’s all yours.’

‘No! I want to stay. I want to stay with my Nick.’ Harry was screaming with desperation, and Shanni reached forward to hug him.

‘Harry, don’t worry. Nick’s staying here for two years. Maybe we can visit…’

He had no intention of travelling down that road. No way!

‘We can visit you, Nick?’ Shanni asked, and something snapped.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Why ever not?’ She sounded astounded.

This was blackmail, he thought desperately. He had to get out of here-fast! And it was kinder to be blunt.