Widows & Orphans Read Online Free PDF Page B

Matthew’s – my ex’s – old colleagues, runs the Child Development Centre here. He pulled a few strings and after a two-week induction course – which was a wake-up call in itself – and a commitment to regular supervision I took the plunge.’
    ‘I’m guessing you’re not from around here,’ Duncan said, confident that he would have remembered her had they met before.
    ‘No, we moved down in the summer from Radlett, a village – well, more of a commuter town now – in Hertfordshire. The job was the main incentive, of course, but I liked the prospect of living by the sea. It seemed the perfect place to make a fresh start and bring up the kids.’
    ‘How many do you have?’ Duncan asked, ignoring Jamie’s snort.
    ‘Two. Sue’s sixteen and Neil’s thirteen.’
    ‘Really?’ Duncan replied, grateful that Linda’s and Jamie’s presence prevented his blurting out ‘But you don’t look old enough!’ or some similar inanity to which he suddenly felt prone. ‘The same age as you,’ he said, turning to his son.
    ‘So?’
    ‘I’d hoped to start work straight away, but my CRB check was delayed.’
    ‘It’s madness,’ Linda said. ‘Heaven knows, children like Rose need protecting –’
    ‘She has me,’ Jamie said.
    ‘Of course she does, darling,’ Linda said, kissing the crown of his head. ‘But there’s far too much red tape. Duncan has campaigned tirelessly against it. What was that case … the bell ringer?’
    ‘Ellen won’t be interested.’
    ‘Why not?’ Linda frowned at him. ‘The one where the boy complained because the man said something that could be taken two ways.’
    ‘“Do you want a tug?”’
    ‘That’s right. “Do you want a tug?” You have a dirty mind, my son,’ Linda said, as Jamie grinned for the first time that evening. ‘I don’t know where you get it from. Not from me and certainly not from your father.’
    Maybe from his stepfather, Duncan thought.
    ‘“Do you want a tug?” He’s a bell ringer, for heaven’s sake! The
Mercury
went to town on it.’
    ‘True,’ Duncan said, still wondering if the publisher’s disclaimer that the models were over eighteen (a mere fig leaf, given their smooth skin and boyish faces) had justified his decision not to report the police discovery of the bell ringer’s stash of
Fresh Meat
magazines.
    He was saved from further soul-searching by the Mayor’s PR, who informed him that ‘battle is due to commence’.
    ‘Oh no, Dad,’ Jamie said, ‘do you have to?’
    ‘’Fraid so. The
Mercury
’s sponsoring this jamboree. As well as an excellent cause, it’s good publicity.’
    ‘But how can you afford it? The paper’s going bust.’
    ‘What? Who told you that?’
    ‘Mum.’
    ‘No, I didn’t.’
    ‘Yes, you did. Why can’t any of you ever be honest?’
    ‘I may have said it was having difficulties…’ Linda floundered. ‘But who isn’t these days?’
    ‘Derek and Uncle Geoffrey.’
    ‘That’s not clever, Jamie,’ Linda said, with a spark of genuine anger.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Duncan interjected. ‘I won’t have to cut your pocket money. Your old man’s not quite on his uppers.’ Jamie looked pained. ‘That was a joke.’
    ‘I’m not thick! But jokes are supposed to be funny.’ He gazed around the room. ‘Please, Dad, there are people here who know me. Promise you won’t tell any more.’
    ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence!’ Duncan said, forcing a laugh. ‘Are your kids like this with you?’ he asked Ellen.
    ‘You should have heard my daughter on this skirt.’
    ‘She must be mad. It’s perfect on you … I mean it suits you perfectly.’ Flustered, he looked at Linda, whose studied vacancy spoke volumes.
    He made his way up to the podium, stopping to chat to Ken, who stood with camera and notebook in hand. Duncan, for whom the caption ‘Editor of the
Mercury
’ appeared in the paper far too often for his own liking, was as reluctant to pose for pictures as Ken, who had grown up