by K T Bowes
Hana sighed and dropped to her knees. She grimaced at the dust on the carpet and crawled beneath her desk. “I’m doing as I’m told or Logan will growl me.” She settled on her bottom with her legs crossed and jabbed an index finger at the door to the common room. “Actually, most of the trouble happens out there,” she grumbled. An answering clatter against the door made her squeak and cover her mouth. She poked her head out from under the desk and flapped a hand at Sheila. “Get in here!” she begged under her breath. “They’re out there, not out that way!”
Sheila turned her back on the coveted keyhole and dived for cover, not taking her gaze from the common room door. Her eyes widened in fear and both women watched, their bodies rigid. Someone tried the door handle and discovered it locked. The Yale mechanism meant no need for a keyhole and the women held their breath. Footsteps moved away and they hid further beneath their desks in case the intruder found their way into the corridor and peered through the side windows.
“Hana!” Sheila hissed and Hana pressed her face close to the join where two pieces of wood met. She spotted Sheila through the thin crack.
“What?”
“Can you see anything through the window?”
Hana sighed. “I don’t know because I’m not looking.”
“Please?” Sheila begged, her position beneath Pete’s desk giving her no view of the glass frontage.
“No!” Hana grumbled. She felt a steady vibration and her eyes widened. “I think Logan’s ringing me.”
“Answer it then. He might know something.”
“I can’t!” Hana hissed. “It’s locked in my bottom drawer and my keys are on the desk. I’m not coming out.”
Both women screamed as something hard hit the rear door. It crashed open and bashed the cupboard behind it before slamming closed. Hana’s heart almost burst through her chest wall and she held her breath and scooted backwards. A scream and the sound of a resounding slap got her attention. She poked her head out.
Pete’s backside faced her, an ill-placed hole in his tracksuit pants. A pair of dirty grey briefs protruded through the gap. “This is my spot!” he demanded, tugging on Sheila’s foot. “Get out!”
“Shut up, both of you,” Hana begged. “Someone’s outside.”
Pete performed a three-point-turn and backed into Sheila’s face. “They’ve gone. It’s a dude with something in his hand.”
“What thing?” Hana asked and he shrugged. Her face paled. “Did he look tall and blonde, quite muscular looking?”
“No. But I got my pie.” Pete held up a paper bag which shed pastry flakes like confetti.
“Where from?” Sheila jabbed an elbow into his ribs as he settled himself beneath the desk next to her.
“I made Darnell pass me a steak and cheese through the tuck shop window. She didn’t ask for the money.” He grinned in glee and bit into the crumbled mess.
“What did you see?” Hana whispered. She jabbed a finger towards the common room door. “Out there.”
Pete shrugged and spoke with his mouth full. “Just a guy. Short, fat with a gang bandana over his mouth. Oh, and some cops.”
Sheila and Hana exchanged looks of alarm. “So it’s real?” Sheila demanded.
“Yeah!” Pete sniffed and swallowed the results. Sheila cringed and closed her eyes. He turned his back on her and licked his greasy fingers like a cat.
Hana retreated beneath her desk and wished she’d gone to the toilet when her bladder first told her she needed it. Half an hour ago.
She managed another twenty minutes before poking her head out the front of her desk. Sheila looked across at her. “I need the toilet.” Hana swallowed. “I’m desperate.”
“You can’t.” Pete yawned and showed her a set of molars filled with dental work. “We’re not allowed out.”
“But you managed it,” Hana replied in a loud whisper. “For a pie. Mine is a life or death need.”
“Go in the dustbin.” Pete shrugged. “I do it all the time.”
Hana squeaked and pushed her plastic dustbin out from under her desk. A swift kick sent it spinning across the carpet, disgorging paper and a banana skin.
She spent the next ten minutes counting the seconds between each siren and the length of time Angus’ emergency message took to read through. It didn’t sound pre-recorded so wherever he managed to hide, he took the intercom with him. “I have to go.”
“You can’t!” came the chorus from beneath Pete’s desk.
“I can!” shrieked Hana. “I’m pregnant! Ohhh!” Pain added to discomfort and she agreed with the doctor’s diagnosis. Urine infection.
Pete and Sheila fought to evacuate the desk. Sheila won and poked Pete in the eye during their scrap. They scurried across to Hana on their knees and showered her with questions. Hana put her hands over her ears. “Stop talking,” she begged. “I’ll wet myself. Please tell no one.”
In the first ever moment of agreement, Sheila nodded at Pete and spoke. “We’ll all go.”
Misgiving filled Pete’s eyes seconds later. “I don’t need it though,” he said, attempting to back out. Sheila narrowed her eyes and he dropped his futile protest.
Like a line of ducklings following mother, they crawled towards the common room door. Sheila laid on her stomach to peer through the thin and draughty gap beneath. “All clear,” she whispered. “This carpet is disgusting.” She stood and unlatched the door, pushing Pete out first to check the area. He indicated after crawling some distance, jerking his head like a frisky pony.
“Stay away from the windows,” Sheila hissed and Pete rolled his eyes.
“That’s not easy. There are windows everywhere!”
“Just do your best,” Hana groaned and he sped up. She tried not to laugh at his weird commando crawl, the hole in his pants bobbing up and down in front of Sheila’s face. Hana pulled the door closed behind her and they filed towards the staffroom, negotiating three sets of double doors and a deserted corridor.
“What now?” Pete demanded as they reached the staffroom. He pointed towards the floor to ceiling windows occupying one massive wall.
Sheila jabbed him in the back. “Go behind the kitchen counter. We can get most of the way there without anyone seeing us.”
Pete sighed and steered that way, complaining as his hand stuck to a dried splat of sticky coffee. Hana watched as he discovered a piece of biscuit lurking beneath the fridge, shoving it in his mouth as he passed. She groaned and made retching noises. Emerging from the other side of the counter, Hana raised her head too far and spotted a large group of police officers occupying the soccer pitch and vehicles blocking the school gate. “The armed response guys are outside!” she hissed. “If they shoot at me, I’ll pee my pants!”
“If they shoot at you, we all will!” Pete grumbled.
“Not long now,” Sheila promised. “Three more sets of doors and then we’re there.”
A one-minute walk took ten to crawl, checking every entry point for danger. Hana focussed on Pete’s bobbing bottom and kept her nerve until they reached the bathroom opposite the locked door of the learning support centre. Her legs ached and wobbled beneath her as she crawled into a cubicle and yanked down her trousers and underwear. She groaned in relief, not caring if the others heard.
“My trouser legs are filthy,” Hana whispered, emerging from the cubicle in a crouch. She avoided the window above her head and washed her hands at face height. “We can go now.”
“No, we can’t!” Pete shot through the door and looked around for somewhere to hide. “The cops are outside.”
“That’s okay.” Sheila said, wiping sweat from her brow with a shaking hand. “We’re safe then.”
“No we’re not!” Pete’s eyes widened like boiled eggs. He jabbed his finger at Hana. “Her son’s out there. We’re meant to be in the student centre and I refuse to get rescued from a ladies toilet.” He hurled himself into the tiny cubicle which served as a shower room and plonked hi
mself on the floor in the corner.
Sheila followed him and yanked Hana’s sleeve. “Get in here! Nobody make a sound!”
Pete opened his mouth to protest as the women crowded in and Sheila bent forward. Hana heard a slap and a grunt. With a muted click, the bolt slid across the door, closing them into the wet room. Hana perched on the slatted bench next to Sheila with a sigh. “Did they see you?” she whispered. Pete pursed his lips and shook his head. He made a gun with his thumb and index finger and Hana groaned. “They’re still searching,” she whispered to Sheila.
Pete positioned himself with his back to the wall, his feet sloping into the drain hole. He shut his eyes and put his head back.
“Thanks guys,” Hana breathed and Sheila patted her hand.
“Tell me about this baby then,” she whispered, leaning so close Hana felt her breath on her ear.
“Shut up, both of you!” Pete hissed and Hana glanced sideways at him.
She whispered in Sheila’s ear. “Please tell no one. It might be okay, but I’m waiting for the test results to be sure.”
Sheila nodded and squeezed her fingers. “I understand.” She narrowed her eyes at Pete. “I’ll hurt him if he breathes a word to anyone.” The women jumped as Pete reached forward and patted Hana’s knee with something like tenderness. She swallowed and felt tears prick behind her eyelids.
Then he ruined it. “I bet the sex was fantastic.” He blinked in rapid succession as Sheila inhaled but Hana snorted.
“Brilliant,” she whispered, cheering herself up at the thought of it.
They sat in the shower room for a further hour. The siren continued to belt out its warning, interspersed with Angus telling them all to stay where they were. Hana grew fractious, faced with the prospect of another crawl to the toilet and Sheila looked at her watch and groaned. “Can’t take much longer to find one man!” she grumbled.
“It can in this place. I’ve worked here for years and I don’t know half the cupboards and hiding places,” Hana replied. “And don’t forget the underground tunnels which end up in the gully somewhere.”
“They’re blocked up.” Sheila shrugged. “Otherwise I’d use them right now. I’m missing a hairdressing appointment.” She fluffed her bobbed hair and pointed out her regrowth.
“They’re not all blocked.” Pete grinned and Hana decided not to question him further. Sheila’s slight shake of the head united them in deliberate ignorance.
Angus’ next statement declared the situation over and he proposed a short interval followed by the resumption of normal school lessons. A muffled cheer reached their ears, a collective shout from six hundred cooped up boys ready to explode. The noise around the site rose to a deafening throb as boys and staff moved outside. Hana visited the toilet again while Sheila checked the hallway. “It’s clear,” she called to Pete, tutting as he delayed. “You need to get out of here!” she insisted. Hana emerged from the cubicle to see Sheila give him a shove through the open door.
Overestimating her own strength, she shot the thin little man across the hall and into the room opposite. Hana recognised the crash as he hit a metal filing cabinet on the far wall. “Oopsie!” Sheila called after him and slammed the door with a wicked chuckle. Hana shook her head and washed her hands.
The bell rang twice to honour the impromptu interval and the boys filed outside to the winter sunshine. “Are you ready?” Sheila asked, primping her fringe in the mirror. “Remember, if anyone asks, we stayed in the student centre and dashed straight here.” She ducked forward as a stampede of desperate women filed into cubicles behind them.
“I’m a terrible liar,” Hana hissed. “Let’s just be honest, but not about the other thing. I’m not ready for people to know.”
“Stick to the plan.” Sheila waggled her eyebrows, squared her shoulders and pulled the door open.
“Geez, Hana! Are you okay?” Logan dragged her sideways, almost lifting her from the floor. “What the hell happened?” He searched her face for signs of distress and his dark fringe bounced on his eyelashes. “You didn’t answer your phone.” Hana smelled his aftershave and pressed her face into his chest. She sighed and he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. Wolf whistles and lewd comments rang out from boys on the stairs and Logan ignored them.
“Where did they catch the man?” Hana asked, looking past Logan to the sight of Sheila shaking her head and drawing a line across her throat.
Logan reeled backwards and stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Outside your office.” His voice lowered with suspicion. “Which you’d know if you were in there.”
Hana swallowed and gnawed her bottom lip. “Could we talk about it later?” She shook her head. “It’s complicated.” Her eyes implored him for clemency.
Logan swung around to face Sheila and she failed to remove the grimace fast enough. He sighed. “Okay. Tell me later. I’m glad you’re okay. It killed me sitting in a classroom with a group of rowdy boys instead of checking on you.”
“I’m very surprised you did.” Angus passed and slapped Logan’s shoulder. “I’m glad I don’t have to fire you.” Hana pressed a hand against her husband’s chest.
“I’m glad you stayed with the boys. You did the right thing.”
“He did what I employ him to do.” Angus halted opposite. “Now, Mrs Du Rose and Mrs Jennings. Our local constabulary have some intriguing questions for you.”
Hana and Sheila exchanged nervous looks and Pete popped from the learning support office as though propelled by an unseen hand. “No need to push, Janice!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Ah, the last musketeer.” Angus seized Pete by the collar. “This way people.”
“Help me!” Hana hissed to Logan, her eyes wide and pleading.
He gave her a satisfied wink. “This one’s all yours,” he said, giving Pete a narrowed, dangerous look. He strode away to deal with a bottleneck on the staircase.
Back at the student centre, a police photographer clicked away on an average looking camera. Several upended chairs alerted them to the drama which unfolded in their wake. “Damn!” Sheila cursed, her expression channelling disappointment. “I always miss the exciting stuff.”
“Mum!” Bodie ran over to Hana and squished her into a bear hug. His uniform looked rumpled. “Where were you?”
Hana swallowed. “Toilet.”
He glanced down at his open notebook. “But I’m here to take your statement.”
“Oh.” Hana watched Angus frog march Pete towards their office, Sheila tottering behind. She put a hand on her son’s wrist. “Do you think the blonde man sent someone else after me?” She swallowed and her resolve crumbled.
“No.” Bodie sounded so definite she exhaled the held breath. “I promise.” He leaned closer. “This dude walked out of prison last night and came looking for his son. The receptionist sent him away, so he used a side door. His boy is a prefect so he found his way up to the common room. We heard reports he carried a weapon but unless he ditched it, we found nothing.”
Hana nodded and watched as Angus turned to face her with a raised eyebrow. He jerked his head towards the office door and shoved Pete over the threshold. “I’m in so much trouble,” she breathed.
Bodie smothered a laugh. “Is that because you disobeyed a lockdown order or because you smuggled a bloke into the girls’ toilets?”
Hana gasped. “How do you know?”
“Security cameras, Mother.” He shook his head. “Best laugh we’ve had all year.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“It’s not funny!” Hana pouted as Logan laughed most of the way home.
“So they watched you crawl from your office to the toilet on the security system?” Logan’s voice broke as he tried to control his mirth. “With Pete’s bum in Sheila’s face?”
“Oh, stop!” Hana buried her face in her hands. “We’ll never live it down.”
Logan checked the road behind before indicating left. A
stupid grin split his face in half. He swept into the driveway and Hana screamed as the car slewed to a sliding stop. “Shit!” Logan cursed, almost rear-ending a white car parked in front of the gates. “Wait here!” he commanded, his body rigid as he climbed from the car and stalked towards the visitor. Hana’s heart felt as though it crawled further up her chest, causing a tightness in her throat.
“Oh, no!” As the driver of the vehicle emerged, Hana’s heart dived for the opposite end of her body, sinking into her boots. The thud of her blood pressure felt dull and strained. “Tama!” Hana spat his name through lips curled back in a sneer. She watched as the men embraced and foreboding hung over her like a shroud.
“It’s okay.” Logan clambered into the driver’s seat and pressed the remote to open the gate. He glanced across at Hana, biting his lip in response to the look of thunder disfiguring her pretty face. “It’s just for a few nights.” He tipped an envelope into her lap. “I grabbed the post.”
“No!” Hana exploded, “No, no, no, not for any nights, no!”
Logan blinked at her in surprise, almost fudging the steep final bend. He lowered his tone and employed the usual platitudes. “Come on babe, it’ll be fine,” he said, sounding dismissive. “He’s my whānau.”
“No. He’s not my family and I don’t care.” Hana maintained her rigid stance, refusing to debate the point. She watched as Tama parked his car at the top of the slope, blocking their access to the garage. Logan tutted and negotiated the tight space, abandoning the car at the foot of the porch steps.
The icy air barely touched Hana, doing little to cool her rage as Tama hauled a duffel bag from the boot of his car. It hit the driveway with a thud. The surrounding atmosphere crackled and hissed with danger. Logan ignored her, skipping up the steps and unlocking the front door. He deactivated the burglar alarm and watched Hana stride past him. “I said no! Is anyone listening to me?”
“What?” Logan’s brow narrowed in warning and Hana shook her head, stamping her foot in defiance. The sound echoed around the lobby.
