Little Triggers Read Online Free PDF Page A

had an equal slice of both in it, as he muttered a sulky “Sorry.”
    The man nodded at him, and then turned his attention to the boy on the floor.
    He examined the boy’s head. It was bleeding. He picked him up, holding him close; he made comforting noises and the boy’s crying gradually subsided. He was about to carry him out of the main room when he looked round and saw Larkin.
    “Can I help you?” A clipped Scottish accent. His voice made the cradled boy flinch almost imperceptibly.
    Larkin looked the man over. Under six foot, early thirties. Washed-out, dirty, thinning blond hair, glasses, shapeless jumper and trousers. Nondescript. Safe.
    “I’m looking for Jane Howell. Is she here?”
    “She is, yes. And who might you be?”
    “It’s all right, James. I’m here.”
    Both men turned to see Jane standing in the doorway. Blue jeans, boots, black T-shirt. Her dark hair in a long bob. She was attractive in an honest, intelligent way; though she carried the burden of a tough life, her big brown eyes lent her a fetching vulnerability. Today, though, they showed nothing but badly-concealed anxiety and trouble.
    She saw the child in the man’s arms and came dashing over. “What happened?”
    “Daniel got a bit boisterous. Don’t worry – it’s all over. I’m just taking little Harry into the kitchen for a look at his head.”
    “I’ll do that,” she snapped, making both men start. Noticing their reaction, she forced a smile. “Go on then – you do it. Where’s Carol?”
    “In the loo.”
    At that moment another woman appeared and crossed over to them.
    “Sort Daniel out, Carol. I’ll be out in a while.”
    With that she crossed over to another red door and entered. Larkin looked round, smiled weakly at the woman called Carol, and followed.
    When Larkin reached Jane’s office he found her sitting behind an old paper-covered desk, delving into her bag for a Silk Cut and a lighter. She lit her cigarette and pulled a deep drag, her chest expanding. Larkin tried not to look at her breasts. After holding on for a few seconds she let go. Her tension ebbed along with the smoke.
    “Fuck, I needed that.”
    Larkin walked round to her side of the desk. “Come on, then,” he said, as reassuringly as he could manage. “What’s up?”
    “Nothing. Nothing.”
    “Bollocks. Tell me.”
    She took another deep drag and followed it up with a huge sigh.
    “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that… Everything was going so well, you know? This place was a success, the credit union was gettin’taken seriously. I don’t know. It just all seems to be turnin’ to shit.”
    “In what way?”
    “Well, for a start, the grant’s up for renewal. If you’d have asked me a couple of weeks ago I’d have said sure, fine, we’ll walk it – you know?”
    “Why won’t you now? What’s gone wrong?”
    “Oh … nothin’. It’s just … I don’t know.” Another drag. “You don’t want to listen to all this.”
    “Too late for that now. You called, I answered. So here I am.”
    She gave him a weak little smile. “Well … it’s probably nothin’, but I’m not so sure. Did you see what happened just now?”
    “One kid fighting with another one. Nothing unusual in that.”
    “No, but … that boy, Daniel. He used to be such a good kid, but just recently he’s started to behave … well, like you saw. Aggressive, arguin’. Startin’ to hurt the other kids.”
    “What about his parents? Can’t they do anything?”
    The deepest drag of all. Then: “It’s a classic abuse pattern he’s developin’.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You mean, his parents?”
    “I don’t think so. I mean, they’re a rough lot, most people round here are, but they’re not… I know them. No.”
    “What then?”
    Her cigarette was down to a stub. She ground it out in an already overflowing ashtray, lit another one and settled herself, coming to decisions in her head. Larkin waited patiently for her to speak.
    Finally: “No.