unusual disturbance and were staring; but at the front of the room, several boys continued to rampage, oblivious to everything but their own amusement. One of them seized the wood-backed board rubber from Miss Harvey's vacated desk. He threw it.
The rubber soared right across the room and crashed into the clock on the back wall, which plummeted to the ground and shattered: shards of plastic and metal innards flew everywhere, and several girls, including Miss Harvey, shrieked in shock.
The door of the classroom flew open and bounced, with a bang, off the wall. The class fell quiet. Cubby was standing there, flushed and furious.
'What is going on in this room? What is all this noise?'
Miss Harvey shot up like a jack-in-a-box beside Sukhvinder's desk, looking guilty and frightened.
'Miss Harvey! Your class is making an almighty racket. What's going on?'
Miss Harvey seemed struck dumb. Kevin Cooper hung over the back of his chair, grinning, looking from Miss Harvey to Cubby to Fats and back again.
Fats spoke.
'Well, to be perfectly frank, Father, we've been running rings around this poor woman.'
Laughter exploded. Miss Harvey's neck was disfigured by a rising maroon rash. Fats balanced himself nonchalantly on the rear legs of his chair, his face perfectly straight, looking at Cubby with challenging detachment.
'That's enough,' said Cubby. 'If I hear any more noise like that from this class, I'll put the whole lot of you in detention. Do you understand? All of you.'
He shut the door on their laughter.
'You heard the deputy headmaster!' cried Miss Harvey, scurrying to the front of the room. 'Be quiet! I want quiet! You - Andrew - and you, Stuart - you can clear up that mess! Pick up all those bits of clock!'
They set up a routine cry of injustice at this, supported shrilly by a couple of the girls. The actual perpetrators of the destruction, of whom everybody knew Miss Harvey was afraid, sat smirking at their desks. As there were only five minutes remaining until the end of the school day, Andrew and Fats set about stringing out the clearing up until they would be able to abandon it unfinished. While Fats garnered further laughs by bouncing hither and thither, stiff-armed, doing the Cubby walk, Sukhvinder wiped her eyes surreptitiously with her wool-covered hand and sank back into obscurity.
When the bell rang, Miss Harvey made no attempt to control or contain the thunderous clamour or rush for the door. Andrew and Fats kicked various bits of clock under the cupboards at the back of the room, and swung their school bags over their shoulders again.
'Wallah! Wallah!' called Kevin Cooper, hurrying to catch up with Andrew and Fats as they headed down the corridor. 'Do you call Cubby "Father" at home? Seriously? Do you?'
He thought he had something on Fats; he thought he had got him.
'You're a dickhead, Cooper,' said Fats wearily, and Andrew laughed.
IV
'Dr Jawanda's running about fifteen minutes late,' the receptionist told Tessa.
'Oh, that's fine,' said Tessa. 'I'm in no hurry.'
It was early evening, and the waiting-room windows made patches of clear royal blue against the walls. There were only two other people there: a misshapen, wheezing old woman wearing carpet slippers, and a young mother who was reading a magazine while her toddler rummaged in the toy box in the corner. Tessa took a battered old Heat magazine from the table in the middle, sat down and flicked through the pages, looking at the pictures. The delay gave her more time to think about what she was going to say to Parminder.
They had spoken, briefly, on the telephone this morning. Tessa had been full of contrition that she had not called at once to let Parminder know about Barry. Parminder had said it was fine, for Tessa not to be silly, that she was not upset at all; but Tessa, with her lengthy experience of the thin-skinned and fragile, could tell that Parminder, beneath her prickly carapace, was wounded. She had tried to explain that she had been utterly exhausted the last couple of days, and that she had had to deal with Mary, Colin, Fats, Krystal Weedon; that she had felt overwhelmed, lost and incapable of thinking of more than the immediate problems that had been thrown at her. But Parminder had cut her off in the middle of her rambling excuses and said calmly that she would see her later at the surgery.
Dr Crawford emerged, white-haired and bearlike, from his room, gave Tessa a cheery wave, and said, 'Maisie Lawford?' The young