Death Drop

"And you, Bruin Boy – you." Gobbets of blood, Durrant thought We spit them at each other There's nothing more.

He found he could walk now, his thighs were cold and heavy, but they could move.

Appalled, I

That Durrant would come for refuge to the gym hadn't taken much working out He and Corley had come through the main building and they had come as fast as they could – but not fast enough Corley, at his side, spoke quietly. "Easy, and gently, don't raise your voice "

Bra

Durrant laughed "You're not very good at it, are you?"

The laughter, high and sweet and insane, sent an icy sweat down Bra

"At being human."

"What do you mean, Steven?" Calm him, he thought. Make him talk If there's to be an impulse jump, it will happen now "That's right – you've got it right, this time. What's Lambert's name?"

"Which Lambert?" All the boys' names had gone out of his mind. He wasn't even aware he had a Lambert.

"There's only one. In Sherborne's House. Mr. I

I

"That's right. Mr. I

Bra

Bra

Durrant said conversationally, "It's Rampton, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"The place where they send criminal lunatics." He looked at I

Bra

"What?"

"Try meat?"

"What?"

"You're either deaf or incredibly stupid."

Bra

Durrant thought, I've got you. While I sit here with this rope around my neck, I've got you. The old power-machine in his mind, after one or two initial lurches in the wrong direction, was humming away beautifully. Power, like strong drink, was a river in his veins.

"Take your jacket off."

"My jacket?"

"You heard me."

Bra

"Put it on the floor."

Bra

"Now stand on it."

Bra

"You wear braces."

"Yes."

"That's very old-fashioned of you. Bruin wears a belt."

"Bruin is – with it."

"Don't try bridging the generation gap, old man. Use your own vocabulary."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be your age. You're past it, you know. You should have retired long ago."

Bra

"Now take your trousers off." '

Bra

Bra

Durrant looked at him critically. "As I said – old. Drop your trousers on top of your jacket and stand on them."

Bra

"Now sing to me."

"Sing what to you?"

"No, don't sing what to me -just sing. Sing the school song."

Bra

Durrant began to laugh. "You are a fool – an almighty fool." This time his laughter was normal.

Bra

Durrant's face contorted. His voice came out as a roar. "Standstill!"

Bra

"That's better. You don't want to kill me, do you?" It was plaintive.

"I'm asking you to come down."

"Ask away, so

Bra

"And my father's an idiot."

He said no to that, too.

"Don't keep contradicting me. I know them. You don't. Give me one good reason for going on living."

Bra

"What's so good about being me?"

"There's good in everyone."

"What's my special good?"

It seemed a brainwave. "Your capacity to love."

Durrant began to cry. He cried open-eyed and silently.

Bra

"The one good reason not to live." It came out raggedly. He fingered the rope again.

"Steven…"

"And don't Steven me – the name's Durrant. You're soft. You're all soft here." He said after a silence of several minutes, "I'm- bored with you. I'm bored with all of you. Fetch Fleming."

"Fleming?"

"F-l-e-m-i-n-g. David's father. I want him."

The words were out before Bra

"But you killed his son."

"That's right," Durrant said laconically. "Let Bruin fetch him – and you stay here. Tell him he's got to come."

Eleven

FLEMING WAS LYING on his bed, empty-minded, watching the sunlight shimmering on the ceiling. Thirza, aware that he lay in a limbo she couldn't enter, had packed and gone. She had slipped a note under his door – an apology for a non-brilliant performance at the inquest and a request that he should phone her the next day. He saw the note lying there and hadn't bothered to open it. His mind refused to tick over at all. Anger and disappointment and grief had lain on him like scum on still water. Tiredness had distilled it all into a state of almost-peace.

The knock on his bedroom door was something to be ignored. He watched the lifting of the pale curtains in the breeze, the movement fragmented the sunshine into petals of light.

Je

His first reaction was resentment. The steel bars around David and himself were capable of being moved by one person only. If she forced her way through, he would think again and feel again. He wasn't ready for her. Not yet.

"John – I must see you."

"Damn you, Je

"Please."

Pain was flowing back. He got off the bed and went and unlocked the door. The sunlight from his bedroom spilled out on to the dark landing and washed over her so that her hair blazed. Her vitality as opposed to David dead was almost an offence.