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Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Title Page
  5. Intoroduction
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EITHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. SIXTEEN
  22. SEVENTEEN
  23. EIGHTEEN
  24. NINETEEN
  25. TWENTY
  26. TWENTY-ONE
  27. TWENTY-TWO
  28. TWENTY-THREE
  29. TWENTY-FOUR
  30. TWENTY-FIVE
  31. TWENTY-SIX
  32. TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. TWENTY-NINE
  35. THIRTY
  36. THIRTY-ONE
  37. THIRTY-TWO
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. FORTY-FIVE
  51. FORTY-SIX
  52. FORTY-SEVEN
  53. FORTY-EIGHT
  54. FORTY-NINE
  55. FIFTY
  56. FIFTY-ONE
  57. FIFTY-TWO
  58. FIFTY-THREE
  59. FIFTY-FOUR
  60. FIFTY-FIVE
  61. FIFTY-SIX
  62. FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. FIFTY-NINE
  65. SIXTY
  66. SIXTY-ONE
  67. SIXTY-TWO
  68. SIXTY-THREE
  69. SIXTY-FOUR
  70. SIXTY-FIVE
  71. SIXTY-SIX
  72. SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  74. CLIMATE EMERGENCY
  75. Copyright

‘That’s not PC Reynolds,’ comes the voice from behind the glass. ‘That’s Sargant Prangle. I think these kids are after you, Sarge. Something about an attack and some people being after them.’

The Sargant looks at me, quizzically. ‘You were the kid from the bike crash, end of last year, right?’

‘Yes, that’s me. I gave a statement.’

‘Wait there.’

And the door clicks shut.

The tinny voice behind the glass squeaks again. ‘You should have said Sargant Prangle if you meant Sargant Prangle. She looks nothing like PC Reynolds. Take a seat. She’ll probably be a while.’

Before I can reply, I hear a squeak as the microphone is switched off.

SIXTY-THREE

SIXTY THREE

‘I don’t like this, Josh. We need to be on that side of the door.’

I shrug. ‘They’re not going to come looking for us here, are they?’

‘They will if they think that’s where we’re going.’

‘Would Carl think that? What if Dan says something.’

‘I don’t think Carl’s taking Dan’s calls at the moment. That thing with his leg. That was Carl.’

Dana sits down heavily in one of the three plastic chairs in the foyer. I take the one next to her.

We leaf through the out-of-date magazines on the table. Dana wastes some time on her phone. Every now and then, I catch the eye of the officer behind the glass screen. At one point, there’s a brief exchange between her and a middle-aged man who comes in to complain about a parking ticket. He doesn’t seem to understand that it’s the council, not the police, who issue parking tickets, and that he needs to take his complaint there. He then asks if he can submit a criminal charge against the parking attendant, at which point the microphone clicks off.

Several times the buzzer goes off and officers go in or out through the door, but it’s a slow half hour before Sargant Prangle comes into the foyer and ushers us through. Though it’s a relief to be back here at last, getting closer to the moment of telling our story is anything but.

We follow her past the rows of desks in the middle of the station, most piled high with files and paper. We go along a couple of corridors, their various posters peeling slowly in the half-light of more fluorescent tubes. The paint on the walls is doing the same. We follow the Sargant into a small interview room towards the back of the building.

She waits until Dana and I are sitting down before she starts. ‘I had a feeling I might be seeing you again. How’s your friend’s leg?’