Durrant looked at him with a degree of contempt. "Yes, sir "

"Did you know young David Fleming well?"

"No, sir"

"But he was in your House at school?"

"Yes, sir "

"Feel free to expand your answers, Steven What we're trying to do at this inquest is to understand the circumstances of David's fall."

"Yes, sir."

"You say you didn't know him well – would that be because of the age difference between you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I should have thought in the environment of a boarding school, with its separate Houses, there would have been a family atmosphere."

"No, sir."

Breddon, suspicious that the monosyllabic answers were deliberately insolent, said sharply, "Why not?"

Durrant had a quick mental image of his mother in bed with the photographer. Why was this man going on about families?

"A school is a school, sir."

"Meaning?"

"There is no family atmosphere."

Breddon had to accept it. "I see." He abandoned his attempt to get to know David through the eyes of another boy. "You were called to give evidence, Steven, because you were the first on the scene of the accident "

"Yes, sir."

"Tell us about it."

Durrant, forced into speech of more than one sentence, took his time in answering. He glanced casually at Brannigan, hardly seeing him, and then looked at David's father again The power-house in his mind felt a sudden surge that ramified through his whole nervous system As Hammond had earlier, he spoke to Fleming alone.

"I was sketching in the fo'c'sle when I heard a scream It came from the other end of the ship – the poop deck. I went to see what had happened. I looked down the hatch and saw David lying in the hold. He was dead." He lingered on the word dead. It came out gently.

Breddon, equally gently, asked, "Why did you look down the hold?"

"I could see there was no-one on the poop deck I had to pass the hatch to get to the poop deck It was the obvious place to look."

"You didn't see him fall?"

"No, sir"

"You have heard since that he was blindfolded?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you any thoughts on that?"

"Kids-do corny things, sir He was only twelve."

Fleming felt the words – only twelve – like a deliberate bruising. The mockery in Durrani's eyes had come and gone. He was looking away from his now and back at the coroner.

Breddon, not insensitive, had been aware of the nuance, but didn't know how to interpret it. The sooner he got the boy off the stand the better. "Mr Lessing, have you any question to ask this witness?"

"No. I think the boy gave his evidence very well."

"Miss Crayshaw?"

Thirza shook her head She felt she walked a foggy landscape on a dark night. The boy gave her the creeps, but she couldn't fault him.

The coroner told him to stand down He made his speech to the jury as brief as possible. "We don't know why David Fleming fell. Had his hands been tied his death might have had more sinister overtones. Fortunately they were not. He applied the blindfold for a reason we'll never know. It's possible he was playing a game of some kind. The sketch you have been shown might indicate a disturbed state of mind, but we have had no expert witness to confirm this. You must consider the possibility of suicide, but there is no solid evidence to support it. The boy came to Marristone Grange almost a year ago, following the death of his mother. There is no reason to suppose that he didn't settle happily into the life of the school. The reputation of the school is high in the town. You might believe that the Mariana was hazardous – indeed, it turned out to be – but the care taken of the children seems to me to be reasonable. The poop deck was a safe area, if the child had stayed there all would have been, well. I shall ask you to retire now, give the matter careful thought, and then return with your verdict."

The jury took less than five minutes.

All seven tradesmen and true were unanimous. The school would continue to be painted and plumbed and cleaned and fed. There wasn't a stain on its character.

The foreman, who was also the local butcher, spoke the verdict. "Accidental death… and may we express sympathy with the boy's father?"

Fleming was already on his feet and on his way out of the court. For the first time that afternoon he saw David – the features, the wing of his eyebrows, the steady look from the hazel eyes.

He felt a terrible sense of failure.

The inquest had been a charade.

"You're dead," he told David in his mind. "My arms are around your shoulders, you're standing out here in the sunshine with me – and there isn't any bloody justice anywhere"

Jenny had followed him out. She was about to put her hand on his, but she let it drop. He wasn't aware of her or of anyone. His isolation was complete. He saw no-one but his son.

Ten

"A BOTTLE OF the best bubbly," Lessing said. I bought it on my way to the court as a gesture of confidence." He put it down on Alison's Georgian table, pushing aside her display of antique paperweights.

She was blooming again, he noticed, like a half-dead flower plunged into fresh water. The verdict had been tonic enough without the champagne. The champagne was a bonus.

Brannigan, he knew, would deem it indecent to celebrate too openly. Here, up at the school house, within an hour of the verdict, they could be as indecent as they chose.

Alison, smiling, went to fetch the glasses.

Brannigan would have preferred Scotch, but drank the champagne to please her. On the drive back to the school she had lavished him with praise. He had given his evidence perfectly. He couldn't have done better. He was the rock on which the school stood. Saint Peter, he had told her dryly, had had his moment of denial, too – in fact three of them – he wondered if he had felt three times as bad.

She had looked at him, quite patently at a loss. "What do you mean?"

It seemed unkind to turn off the glow. "Nothing. The verdict was fair, I suppose."

"You suppose? You should be jumping over the moon. Today the school had justice done to it. It's a good school and you know it – the whole town knows it. No harm has been done."

He refrained from stating the obvious. He had seen Fleming's expression as he had stood outside the court. Even Jenny had got nowhere with him He had walked off through the crowd as if he walked a desert Lessing drank two glasses of champagne before taking his leave. He wondered if he would see the Crayshaw woman again. Fleming's bird had beautiful plumage. She had fluttered at the inquest without much effect Had she flown in less alien country she might have achieved a different verdict – but he doubted it Her inside knowledge was nil. His own suspicions were another matter, but they would keep for another day Let Alison have her moment of glory. Later, some neat and discreet patchwork over the cracks should restore the fabric of the school. Today's verdict had given the old alma mater a future. He had noticed two of the governors at the inquest – Colonel Goldthorpe and Mrs. Telford Afterwards they had gone to have a word with the coroner No graft, of course Breddon couldn't be bought. They were buddies up at the links Mrs. Telford was lady captain this year and Mrs Breddon was vice-captain. It didn't signify anything, but it all helped. If the school had crashed there would have been one hell of a financial loss. Alison walked to the door with him and waved him off the premises. Normally she didn't like him. Today she did. When she returned to the sitting room she saw that Malcolm had gone to sit with his back to the open window. There was a small breeze now though the day was still very sultry. It ruffled through his thinning hair and she went over and smoothed it " You're sitting in a draught You'll get a chill." It was the first time she had touched him m days and he smiled at her with a degree of affection The wine had taken the edge off his disquiet and allowed optimism to creep through. He was glad he had done what he did – not only for her sake but for the sake of the whole school There was the sound of boys' voices in the air. Cricket on a summer's day. The academic results hadn't been bad this year, considering the smallness of the sixth form. There had been some Oxbridge successes. Next year the potential was even better. He liked teaching. If he could get more help on the administrative side he might be able to have more time in the classroom. He needed to adopt a more positive approach. As from now he would try to see things with fresh eyes. It didn't do to dwell on failure. He wished he could get Fleming's face out of his mind Corley senior arrived at the school at twenty minutes to five. He had intended arriving in time for the inquest, but a natural reticence had kept his foot from pressing too hard on the accelerator Rage coupled with anxiety had made all things seem possible when he had set out on the journey, but as time had gone by he knew he couldn't do it He hadn't been called as a witness A dramatic denouement from the back of a crowded courtroom might be possible in the mind, but couldn't be done in fact. He knew nothing at all about courtroom procedure. He had never attended an inquest in his life. To make a statement out of turn might result m being charged with contempt of court Neville, distressed and tearful, was safe. Dramatic gestures, desirable as they might be, were for the extroverts of this world, not for mild-mannered bank managers.