School Reunion

Chapter Two

07:46 Tuesday the 8th

Reading

Daniel Matthews looked over the toaster. He sighed and swore at it under his breath. Then, in the reflection of the toaster he spotted his adopted daughter Cecily. "Sorry Ceil," he said. And swore at the toaster again.

"What's wrong Dan?" asked Christopher Turner; his new husband. "Why didn't either of you take each others surname?" his sister Evie had asked. Daniel had just shook his head at her, like he did to Christopher now.

"The toaster won't work and now Ceil might be late for school."

"Did you remember to switch it on at the wall?"

Silence. "I'll take that as a no, then. And once Cecily's finally got her breakfast, then maybe we can have a chat in the living room."

Christopher held a letter written on thick paper and a photograph. All of the people were teenagers and there were twenty of them; a school photograph. "It's a reunion of our class. Invitation to go to Wigan on Friday." He smiled at the photographic face of Jake Blunt: dark haired, smiling face; and none of the qualities that Christopher had in abundance (pedantry, a morbid sense of humour and melancholy).

"Maybe it will be a reunion for some people," he whispered after he kissed Dan goodbye.

08:10 Tuesday the 8th

Reading

At the other side of Reading Jennifer Fogarty was shouting at her husband to get up or he'd be late again (the boss had threatened to sack him if he turned up overdue this week.).

Percy rolled over to hear his wife storm down the steps to work without even a goodbye. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't sleep from worry; Alan was laying off people all the time and his name was already blacklisted.

She ignored the post and only stopped to push the newspaper out of the way of the door. Their daughter and only child, Marcella, was sitting on the wall in her football kit. Her mother silently opened the door and Marcella clambered in.

Jennifer drove off, fuming. It wasn't his fault that there was a recession, but he could at least try.

She waved off Marcella at the school gates, simultaneously counting the days until they could catch their flight to Cyprus and mentally reviewing her camera equipment.

In the office she checked her emails: and two caught her eye. One was from her friend, Nina Brown.

Did u get that letter bout the class reunion? I would love to see the old gang back 2gether!

Nina would never use a long word where a short one would suffice.

The other was from an old school friend who she saw about once a year.

07:57 Tuesday the 8th

Dublin

"Hello?" said Gaia Smith in her thick Irish accent.

"Is that Gaia Smith? I'm Craig Williams; you sold me your flat in Reeth a few weeks ago."

"If it's about the leak in the roof, put a saucepan under it until the useless-work-experience kids get there."

"No, no. You see, I got a letter this morning addressed to you. I... I haven't opened it."

"'S ok. It might be urgent, so please can you read it out-loud?"

He began, stuttering slightly, but he read it perfectly. Gaia nodded. "Thank you. You can shred it now." She thought. "Didn't you say you were an actor?"

"Yeah. Thanks for noticing." And with that he put down the phone.

Gaia sat at the kitchen table, ruminating over her bowl-of-yellow-mush/cornflakes. She remembered someone and pulled her iPhone out of her briefcase. A quick email, and she thought nothing more of it for the rest of the morning.

At her lunch break she read her reply from Jennifer and booked a flight to England. She'd been meaning to see her British cousins for a while now, anyway.

21:17 Sunday the 6th

Wigan

The Orwell was a bar near Wigan Pier, and Benjamin Leonard hated it. He hated the name, he despised the regulars and he especially abhorred the place. Wigan was desolate, with the cold winds off the sea and the endless grey streets. Not that he'd preferred it in Manchester, but still...

He was just getting ready for the drunks to start pouring in when there was a phone call.

"You're Ben Leonard. You went to Eastbourne Comprehensive. You run The Orwell in Wigan."

"Y-yes?"

"Save some tables for Friday the eleventh. You're invited; it's a school reunion. So: Friday. Save three tables. You are invited. Got it?" And the line went dead.

Ben wasn't going to be pushed around by some voice down a phone! Yet it had sounded... menacing. And he needed the business and publicity, anyway.

07:48 Tuesday the 8th

Blackpool

Noel Martin shouted down the stairs at his son. "Timothy! On the one day I get a lie in I get woken up by my son singing - awfully!" Timothy shrugged and turned the Arctic Monkeys down. Eight more hours and it'd be the inter-school football match. Mrs Tate always thought that he'd enjoy getting his head trod on in mud. And the time he sprained his wrist; Tim got another glass of cranberry juice.

Noel lay down in bed while his wife Adaeze showered. She looked out and reminded Noel that the paper bill needed paying. He lay down under the covers until he heard her drive off.

Tim put that morning's post outside the door and went off to the school's early morning chess club. The post was one cream envelope with scribbly blue writing on it.

12:13 Tuesday the 8th

Cardiff

Sally Hume slumped down with her-ever present cup of coffee in the staff room. She loved being a teacher of primary school kids of course, it was so rewarding and it gave her a chance to give something back - but God how she loved to hide in the staff room with that week's Private Eye.

A picture of Rebecca Brooks and the headline 'Halloween costume withdrawn from shops'. She laughed, dropped the magazine and a letter fell out of the pages. Mr Ridley picked it up and handed it to her.

"A proper letter!" he said. "No one gets these today. Have you got a secret admirer, Sally?"

"Go away," said she, as though she'd said it a thousand time already.

15:06 Saturday 19th July

Suffolk Police Station

Trisha started at the bottom of her mug. Ten hour days, ten mugs of tea. She looked at her watch. "Fifty-four minutes until I can have another cup." she muttered.

Cyril looked up from Anita's statement and tried to smile.