A Child In Need

CHAPTER FOUR

TO HIS surprise, they ate in silence.

Nick was no longer sure what he expected of this girl, but silence surely wasn’t it. She’d chatted and laughed all the way to the beach, but now, sitting on the sand with Harry on her knee and a spread of fish and chips beside her, she had subsided into a silence that Nick found almost disconcerting.

Not that he didn’t welcome it. He needed time to get his breath back.

So he ate the fillets of fish that must surely have only been caught that morning, and he crunched on the golden chips and he absorbed the silence. It was peaceful. It was right, but it was…strange.

As were the sensations. The sand was sun-warmed and soft, and the wind was blowing gently in across the rolling waves. The beach was pristine. There were no footsteps for miles-no one had been on this beach since high tide. The town was clustered round a horseshoe bay-the Bay Beach the town was named after-but Shanni had led them down the track to the back beach, which was the beach the tourists didn’t use. Miles wide, with golden sand stretching away into the distance, there were ancient Norfolk pines at its higher reaches casting sentinels of shade across the sand-hills. There was nothing else.

They might as well be the first man and first woman and first child ever to sit on this beach, and, with the silence, it was weird.

When had he last sat on a deserted beach like this?

Never, he thought, and the knowledge was suddenly bleak. He was a child of the city, who’d never had parents to take him anywhere.

He was like Harry.

No!

He wasn’t going to think like that, he decided harshly, because that was the way of attachment. That was what this girl wanted, he knew. This outing was planned with one thing in mind-to establish a link between Nick and the little boy she was holding.

‘Finished your chips?’ She was smiling at him, still with that strange look in her eyes that said she was searching for something deeper than an answer about the chips. What was she seeing? He didn’t want to know.

‘Yes. Thank you.’ They’d bought far too many.

Shall I feed them to the seagulls?’ Harry asked, and Shanni nodded her agreement.

‘That’s a fine idea. Go right ahead.’

Okay, but he wasn’t feeding them where he sat. This was a serious business. Carefully Harry wrapped up his pile of cooling chips, pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and stumped down to the water’s edge. Then he laid the parcel on the wet sand, just as carefully unwrapped it and started tossing chips one at a time skyward but back toward the adults.

The gulls screamed in from everywhere, forming a cacophony of sound and movement between adults and child. A barrier… It was as if that was what Harry had meant to happen.

And for a long moment Nick watched, his heart doing all sorts of strange wrenching. Remembering just how hard his lessons of solitude had been to learn…

‘They’re planning on doing psychological assessment on him,’ Shanni said conversationally, and Nick somehow hauled himself back to the present.

Psychological assessment… ‘Because of the hostage thing?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Because of before. And how he is now.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘This is as good as it gets,’ she said sadly. ‘He’s as happy as he can be right now. I’m trying so hard, and so is Wendy, the head of his children’s home. But he’s so withdrawn. Around most people he dives for cover, or, if they come close, he screams blue murder. Screams and screams and screams. Wendy says he has night terrors and he’s keeping every child in the home awake half the night.’

‘So?’

‘So if we don’t get through to him then he’ll be placed in a psychiatric institution. Wendy can’t cope-and who can blame her? She’s running a group home for children at risk and she has more than Harry to care for. They’ve tried foster homes but he doesn’t last more than a night. Adoption’s out of the question like he is now. We must get through to him.’

We…

‘You mean…’ Nick stirred a whirl of sand under his fingers. ‘You mean you. And Wendy.’

She flicked a glance at him. ‘Of course.’ She shrugged. ‘I mean me and Wendy.’

‘If you don’t mind me saying this,’ he said softly, ‘I don’t see any professional detachment in this.’

‘Professional detachment?’

‘Surely your role of kindergarten teacher doesn’t include mental health therapy for your students.’

Silence.

‘He’s not your responsibility,’ Nick went on. There was no easy way to say this but it must be said. ‘If Harry needs professional help, then surely a psychiatric institution is the place where he’ll get it.’

‘He needs to be loved.’

‘Then he needs to be cured and then adopted.’

‘Oh, sure,’ she said, jeering. ‘Cured and then adopted. But it’s a Catch 22 situation, isn’t it, Mr Daniels? He can’t be adopted until he’s cured and he can’t be cured until he’s adopted.’

‘That sounds clever.’

‘It’s not.’ She got up, her colour heightened so her cheeks were turning to rose, and there was anger building. Her eyes flashed fire and…contempt? ‘Of course it’s not simple, either,’ she flashed at him. ‘But I’ve no intention of talking smart or simple theories. I’m talking about a little boy’s life. If I could, then I’d take him home with me. Maybe I’d have a chance to make a difference, but he doesn’t want a woman. He needs a man to attach to. Everyone says that.’

‘This is ridiculous. It’s not your job to worry about it.’

‘Of course it’s not my job. It’s no one’s job, but at least I try. At least I care. Not like some people who say they live on stupid mountains!’

‘I might as well do,’ he snapped, stung. He rose to face her, fire meeting fire. Her anger was palpable-and so was his. How dared she throw this at him!

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, no, of course I don’t want to get involved,’ he threw back at her. ‘Because what good would it do? You think I should try to form an attachment and then move away? You know as well as I do that it’d make everything worse.’

‘Nick, you could do a lot of good in two years,’ she said, softening as if there really was a chance she could persuade him.

‘You’re kidding.’

‘No, you could,’ she said urgently. ‘Mary says you’re bored with work already. The orphanage system runs a big-brother scheme. Just picking a child up from individual homes, taking him out, doing this sort of thing. Mucking around in the sun. Being a friend.’

‘I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a friend to a three-year-old.’

‘I’ll teach you,’ she said. ‘Wendy and I both think he’s desperate for male contact. He and his dad were so close, and any female contact he had was appalling. He needs to bond with a male.’

‘You have to be kidding!’ He was facing her square on, and he couldn’t believe this was happening. She was almost pleading-but not quite. Her eyes defied him to do this thing. They told him that this was his duty as another human-or the sort of human with any decency at all.

The sort with any love…

But any love had been kicked out of Nick Daniels a long time ago. He stared down into her blazing eyes and the feeling that grew in his heart was leaden and grey. What she was asking was impossible.

‘No,’ he said flatly, and took a step back. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

She opened her mouth to retort-and then shut it again. Once again there was that look-the look that said she saw further than words. And something changed. In that instant, anger moved to concern.

‘What’s happened to you, Nick?’ she said softly, almost whispering into the soft wind. ‘What’s put you on top of that mountain?’

‘I don’t…’

‘You don’t want to talk about it. I can see that.’ She smiled suddenly, tension dissolving as if it had never been. She even managed a wavering smile. ‘Hmm. The plot thickens.’

‘The plot…’

‘Why you won’t take your stupid tie off and you keep combing your hair so you look like a city lawyer-even when it’s totally inappropriate. What harm’s a bit of ruffled hair? You might look like a sleek city lawyer in the city, but here your image just makes you look like Mafioso. And you don’t know One, Two, Three, Jump…’

‘Shanni…’

‘Yes?’ Amazingly there was a twinkle dancing back into her eyes.

‘Butt out.’

‘Nope.’ She grinned. ‘It’s not my style. I’ll back off, though,’ she said equably. ‘I can see a bit clearer what I’m fighting now. So I’ll back off. But butt out? Never!’

There was still time left before three. Nick’s idea of backing off was to retire quietly to his chambers. Shanni’s idea of backing off was to head to the playground.

It was two against one and the outcome was never in doubt.

‘I would like to go on the roundabout,’ Harry said wistfully, looking at a platform mounted on springs, with four seats made to look like bucking horses. The idea was to sit on a horse and sway as you spun. The sight made Nick’s stomach churn, especially after all those chips…

‘That’s another fine idea,’ Shanni said roundly, fixing Nick with a look that defied him to refuse the child. ‘Hop right up.’

But suddenly Harry wasn’t so sure.

‘It’s high.’

‘Nick will help you on-won’t you, Nick?’

Oh, of course! He was getting almost past argument. So he hopped up onto the platform and lifted Harry onto a horse-and then, before he knew what she was about, the platform started to spin. Shanni, devilment in her eyes, had started to push.

‘Hey…’ He clutched the handle-cum-bridle, his hands over Harry’s small ones, and held on for dear life. ‘Stop!’

‘It’s okay, Nick! I can spin you both.’ She was using both hands, running, shoving the platform around into free whirl. Her hair was flying, there was mischief sparking in her eyes and she was laughing up at both of them. ‘Hold on, Harry!’

Hold on, Harry? What about him? ‘Shanni, let me off.’

‘You won’t fall if you hold on,’ Harry said kindly. And then, as the platform sped up, he threw back his head and smiled shyly up at Nick. ‘This is fun!’

Fun!

But Harry’s smile was infectious-and so was the way Shanni was laughing at them as she spun them around and around and around. He was way out of control and this woman had him so mesmerised there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. ‘I’ve been set up,’ he managed weakly. ‘You machiavellian…’

‘Drat, you’ve found my true nature.’ She chortled and ran on. ‘There’s nothing for it but to spin you faster. And faster and faster and faster…’

She did just that. Nick held on, standing above Harry and, whether he realised it or not, he was playing the protector. Because Harry was holding on as if his life depended on it, he was spinning and spinning, but his Nick was right above him and he knew his Nick wouldn’t let him fall.

And suddenly it was…magic? The sun shone warmly down on their heads. The waves washed in and out on the beach below them. They spun and they spun, and Shanni pushed and ran and pushed and smiled…and watched both these males.

And she wondered…

‘Shanni!’

It couldn’t last. Fifteen minutes pushing was surely enough for any child-and Nick was all set to lose his chips!-but somehow he’d quelled his protests and it wasn’t Harry who stopped them. The yell came from the road, and Nick looked over to find Shanni’s John heading straight for them.

Good old dependable John, Nick thought wryly, watching him hurrying across the sand-hills as they spun. The look on his face said he was here to save his Shanni from any danger. But from which of them? From the psychotic three-year-old or the slick city lawyer?

John must have decided it was fate worse than death for Shanni to be stuck with such a combination, Nick thought humourlessly. Little did John know his beloved had engineered the whole thing-including stranding him on this devilish platform. It was Nick who needed saving!

But John only had eyes for Shanni. No matter. John was welcome to save Shanni all he liked, Nick decided, but then he felt bitterness behind the thought-and the sensation jolted him.

What on earth did he have to be bitter about? he demanded incredulously of himself. This girl was nothing to do with him, and neither was the man she intended to marry.

‘Shanni…love…’

The roundabout slowed as Shanni’s attention was distracted. Thank heaven… Nick abandoned his horse, staggered off, lurched as his feet hit solid earth and then tried to stop his world from falling right over.

Good grief… And Harry was looking at him as if he was wondering why Nick had climbed off!

‘John.’ Shanni had smiled a welcome as John strode across the sand-hills, but Nick heard a note of wariness enter her voice. As if she wasn’t sure what to expect…

‘Mary told me you’d be here.’ John was out of breath, as though he’d been hurrying for much longer than the time it had taken to stride across the sand-hills. He sounded aggrieved. ‘I thought you were checking bathroom tiles on your afternoon off.’

‘Nope.’ Shanni shrugged and kept her smile fixed. ‘You told me I should check tiles, but I don’t see the point when we haven’t decided on a house plan.’ She smiled placatingly and then tried to extend the conversation. ‘John, you remember Nick?’

‘Of course I remember Nick,’ John said grumpily, digging his hands deep in his pockets. He flicked an acknowledging nod at the staggering Nick and went straight back to his grievance. Which was just as well, because Nick was in no state to greet him. ‘So why weren’t you at the tile place? I decided to leave the hay and come in and meet you.’

‘Push,’ said Harry. ‘Nick, why are you off?’

‘Too much of a good thing,’ Nick gasped. He waved a helpless hand at Shanni, who was looking suspiciously as if she might laugh at his plight. She’d better not! ‘But go right ahead without me. Shanni, push!’

‘Wuss!’ But she pushed, grinning at him without sympathy and then turning back to John as she pushed.

‘John, it might rain tomorrow,’ she said thoughtfully, still pushing. Harry gave Nick a look of disgust-Wimpy adults! his look said-but then decided he’d turn his attention to the sea, as if he was looking for pirates.

‘The hay will spoil if it rains,’ Shanni said.

‘That’s why I don’t understand why you’re not where you said you would be,’ John snapped. ‘I don’t want to waste time.’

‘So…you were coming to choose tiles-or check on me?’

‘I just wanted to see that you were okay.’

‘That’s really nice of you, John,’ she said softly. ‘But, as you can see, I’m fine. Choosing tiles or eating lunch on the beach are hardly dangerous occupations. Don’t let the hay spoil on my account.’

‘Why are you here-with him?’ He glared at Nick and Nick raised his eyebrows and smiled politely. Or tried to smile politely. His whole world was still looking decidedly crooked.

He said nothing. One reason was that he knew when to shut up, but the second was that he was still concentrating on balance. Very important, balance! He wondered how it would look if he lay down.

He didn’t. A man had some pride! Plus the sand was wobbling.

‘Nick and I are taking Harry out to lunch.’ Shanni was smiling at Harry, who was still looking for pirates. Great! They were welcome to pay attention to anything other than Nick’s condition! ‘This is John, Harry. You want to say hello?’

‘No,’ said Harry, and Nick didn’t blame him.

But he was still spinning! ‘Don’t you want to stop yet?’ Nick demanded.

‘No,’ said Harry, very definitely. ‘If you pushed as well I could go faster.’

Good grief! But there was no alternative. Clutching his balance and pride together, Nick managed a sickly shrug. He pushed.

And he listened.

‘Shanni, let’s go,’ John was saying urgently. ‘If you come with me now we still have enough time to choose tiles.’

‘That’s crazy,’ Shanni said, exasperated. ‘We don’t even have the house plan.’ She took a deep breath. ‘In fact, we haven’t even decided to get married.’

That floored John. ‘Of course we’re getting married.’

‘You haven’t actually asked me.’

‘We talked about it the other day. And we always knew…’

‘John, we need to talk about this by ourselves,’ she said urgently, casting a sideways glance at Nick-who just as carefully looked away. ‘Maybe we could meet tonight.’

But John had no intention of being placated. ‘This is ridiculous. I came into town to choose tiles.’

‘I’m with Harry. And Nick.’

‘Leave the kid with the lawyer.’

‘Hey…’ Nick’s protest was involuntary-but unnecessary. He could safely leave this to Shanni. She was angry enough for both of them.

‘The kid’s name is Harry,’ she said bluntly. ‘Not “the kid”. And Harry is my friend. I invited him and Nick-who’s a magistrate, not just a lawyer-out to lunch and for a play in the playground. When we’re finished-and not before-I’ll take Harry back to Wendy.’

‘Wendy…’ John’s voice rose in incredulity. ‘You mean this is a kid from the orphanage?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and there was ice dripping from the word. Back off, Nick was thinking urgently, but there was no way he could get that message across. John had no intention of backing off. This was a man used to getting his own way, and he wasn’t tuned in to ice.

‘Shanni, this is ridiculous,’ John said through gritted teeth. ‘The whole town saw you walking down the street with this guy, and with the kid between you. Malcolm Taylor rang to tell me…’

‘So this is the real reason you’re here?’ Shanni’s anger was building by the minute. ‘Because Malcolm saw me with another man and decided to report me?’

‘The town will think you’re two-timing me!’

‘By sitting on the beach eating fish and chips with the local magistrate? In broad daylight and with a child between us?’ Nick and Harry were forgotten now. If he were John he’d disappear for a while, Nick thought. He could feel the anger radiating from Shanni, and it was almost tangible.

‘It’s not his place to take you to lunch.’

‘He didn’t take me to lunch. I took him for lunch.’

‘It’s true,’ Nick said mildly. ‘I had no choice at all. Ask Harry. I don’t have a choice in anything. This lady has the force of two bulldozers.’

He was ignored.

‘Look, come and choose tiles and we’ll forget all about this,’ John said urgently. ‘I mean…the town will forget…’

‘That I’m a two-timing hussy?’

‘I never said…’

‘You didn’t need to.’ She was fairly spitting. ‘John, I like you very much, and you’ve been a real friend-but I will not be owned.’

‘You mean you don’t want to marry me?’

She paused. There was a long, long silence. Unnoticed, the roundabout slowed to a halt. Both Nick and Harry were watching, entranced. Pirates and stomachs forgotten.

‘I guess…’ She closed her eyes and when she opened them the determination that Nick was starting to know was back in force. ‘I guess that’s what I do mean, John. Thank you for asking, but no.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘No. I’m sorry.’

‘I see.’ Once again, there was a long, long silence-and then John turned to Nick, and the look he cast him was pure malevolence. ‘I just hope to hell he’s worth it,’ he spat. ‘To throw me over for a bloody lawyer with designer suits…’

And he turned and stalked off over the sand-hills.

‘Push,’ said Harry.

That at least was something he could do. Nick pushed while Shanni gazed at the retreating back of her lover and he could see indecision written all over her.

‘Go after him,’ he said gently. ‘I can take care of Harry.’ What was he saying?

‘Thank you.’ She turned to face them, an overbright smile pinned to her face. The decision had been made and there wasn’t regret there as far as Nick could see. There was just pure anger. ‘But I don’t need any more males telling me what to do.’

‘Especially not a designer-suited lawyer?’

It broke the ice. She stared at him for a long minute and then, slowly, the anger faded. ‘Oh, heck…’ She broke into a weak chuckle. ‘Oh, help. I’m sorry. No. Wasn’t he awful?’

‘But…if people are getting that impression…’ Another thought was hitting Nick with force now, and he didn’t like it. If the town thought Shanni was throwing her John over for him… ‘Maybe we should cool it.’

She stared. And then her jaw dropped in a sardonic look of incredulity. ‘Cool it? Cool what?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe John has a point.’

Anger was flooding right back. ‘So people all over town think I’m falling for you because I asked you to lunch. And you’re worried about it? You jerk! You’re as conceited and pompous as John.’

‘Push,’ said Harry firmly-he was tired of this adult conversation and was back to basics-and they both pushed while undercurrents zoomed around and between them as if the playground was wired for electricity. And some of it had got loose.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nick said after a bit. Maybe he had overreacted. It was just this small-town thing. He did not want to get involved. He glanced at his watch and saw with relief there was just fifteen minutes left before three. ‘I need to get back.’

‘Of course you do,’ she said cordially. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

‘You’re not coming?’

‘Harry and I are playing on the roundabout,’ she snapped. ‘You do what you like.’

‘Right. Right, then.’

He took a deep breath, looked at her for a long minute and nodded.

‘See you later, Harry,’ he said.

‘When?’ Harry demanded, startled. His voice was urgent. ‘When will you see me?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Mr Daniels is a very busy man,’ Shanni said icily. ‘He’s probably got tiles to buy.’

‘I do have a court case or two to judge.’

‘Then don’t let us keep you,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Harry and I can manage very well without you. We can manage without men in general and without two males in particular. And one of them’s you.’

‘What’s been happening?’

‘I was expecting you to come back with a black eye at least.’

Nick was no sooner in the courthouse than he was pounced on. Mary was at her desk, agog, and Rob was standing beside her, immaculate in his police uniform. The physical likeness to Shanni was unmistakable-as was their ability to ignore his personal boundaries.

He stared at both of them with dislike. There was sand in his shoes. He needed time to empty it before he was due in court in four minutes. His stomach was still churning from the roundabout and he felt ill. He didn’t need an inquisition.

‘Why are you here?’ he snapped at Rob.

‘Hey, I brought the prisoner,’ Rob said, aggrieved. ‘Not that there’s any need for force. It’s Bart Commin in for shoplifting. He pinches four cans of baked beans every second Wednesday, because that’s the day before pension. It drives everyone nuts, but as soon as we make it official-try to give him the beans and dock his pension-he changes stores. We figure he likes the excitement.’

‘Great.’ Nick groaned. ‘Fourteen years’ intellectual training for this.’

‘Your tie’s crooked,’ Mary said, bright-eyed and interested. ‘You’ve never had a crooked tie before.’

‘So your sister had her wicked way with me behind the sand-hills,’ Nick snarled. ‘You want to put a two-page announcement in the local paper?’

‘Don’t reckon we have to,’ Rob said lazily, and grinned. ‘John’s done it for us.’

Nick stared. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’

‘He’s spreading it all over town,’ Rob told him. ‘I’ve heard it from at least three people on the way here. Seems my sister’s thrown John over for the magistrate.’

‘Oh, great!’

‘Your hair’s not mussed,’ Mary said, in a tone saying she wouldn’t have minded if it was. ‘That means you can’t have been too far out of line.’

‘Plus they had the littl’un with them,’ Rob agreed. ‘It wouldn’t have happened.’

‘You’ll go far as a policeman,’ Nick snapped. ‘Great detective work. Do you mind? I have a court case to run.’

‘Bart won’t worry if you’re running late,’ Rob said easily. ‘I’m prosecuting and he’s defending himself. There’s hardly an army of lawyers waiting.’

‘No.’ He would have preferred it if there was-in fact he would have preferred anything to these four enquiring eyes.

‘Did she really throw John over?’ Mary asked, breathless.

He guessed he could tell them that. ‘She did.’

There was a long drawn-out sigh from the pair of them, and he looked on, bemused.

‘Do you mind telling me what’s going on?’

‘We can’t stand the man,’ Rob said simply. ‘None of us can. We were starting to worry she’d marry him through lack of competition.’

‘And now along you come,’ Mary said dreamily.

‘Rob?’ Nick eyed his arresting officer with disfavour.

‘Yes, sir?’ There was a glint in Rob’s eye that reminded Nick of Shanni, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He wasn’t the least bit sure he wasn’t being laughed at here.

‘There’s a jug of water on my bench. Fetch it and throw it over your sister.’

‘If you say so.’ Rob grinned and Mary stopped looking dreamy and gave a half-hearted chuckle herself.

‘Okay. I know I’m being stupid. It’s just… I mean you’re eligible as anything, and you’d be quite good-looking if you didn’t have the…’ She paused and Nick glowered.

‘If I didn’t have the what?’

‘Pot-belly and bald spot?’ Rob suggested, and hooted with laughter. ‘Jeepers, Mary, leave the guy alone.’ But Mary just looked helpful.

‘It’s your hairstyle and slick clothes,’ she said. ‘They make you look like a gangster.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Or one of those smart city lawyers you see on the movies,’ she added. ‘And you’re not one of those.’

‘No. More’s the pity.’

‘You don’t mind me saying it?’

‘Why should I?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Go ahead. Any more improvements you can think of while you’re at it?’

‘You don’t really have to wear those skinny ties,’ she ventured.

‘The suit doesn’t fit here,’ Rob added, joining right into the spirit of things. ‘Old Judge Andrews wore tweed.’

‘The old judge kept forgetting to take his wellingtons off, too,’ Mary said thoughtfully. ‘He had a hobby farm so he kept arriving in court smelling of cow dung. It made him…I don’t know…more approachable somehow.’

‘You’d like me to come to court without my hair combed, in a tweed jacket, a wide tie and stinking of cow dung?’

‘You have to do something. You’ll never win our Shanni like you are now.’ Rob chortled at Nick’s expression and threw up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, Your Worship. I can see I’ve gone too far. Let me organise a prisoner for you and we’ll get this court case under way.’

He shouldn’t worry.

He shouldn’t give a damn what they all thought of him, Nick decided as the afternoon wore on. The cases were trivial and demanded hardly any thought at all. He might as well think of his appearance.

He might as well think about Shanni.

Which was really, really stupid.

He’d go up to town this weekend, he decided. If he left by five tomorrow night he could be back in his inner-city apartment by nine. Maybe ring a couple of friends, catch a late show, see the latest Enrico exhibition on Saturday…

‘Four hundred dollars or ten days in custody,’ he said, and discovered the whole courtroom was looking at him.

‘But…’ It was Mary, and she bit her lip almost as soon as she said it.

‘What?’

‘Fifty bucks or overnight,’ the defendant explained for her, in a voice that sounded like gravel. The old man was an alcoholic. He stank. The smell of him reached every corner of the court.

‘Overnight gives us time to see he’s fed and washed,’ Rob explained.

‘So ten days gives you longer. Next case…’

And he closed his file and glared at them all. And they glared right back. Every single one of them.

And Shanni was waiting for him when court was finished for the day. Her anger was still sky-high. He came out of court, tossed his gown aside and turned to find Shanni watching him from the corridor.

‘I suppose you know what you’ve done,’ she said bluntly.

Nick sighed. Now what?

‘Let’s see,’ he said wearily. ‘According to town gossip, so far today I’ve ravished you over fish and chips, I’ve had my wicked way in the sand-hills, I’ve broken your engagement to your knight in shining armour, and I’ve smashed the unwritten dress code for Bay Beach court. What else is there left?’

‘You’ve made Emma feed Bart for ten days!’

‘Emma?’

‘Rob’s wife. She does the meals for the custody cells. And Bart’ll dry out. We’ll have him screaming the place down.’

‘Then maybe he needs to be dried out.’ This was none of her business.

‘I thought Mary warned you. Bart’s dried out at least fifty times in living memory, all of them in the police cells, all of them with Rob and Emma not getting sleep for days and all of them totally useless as he hits the bottle the minute he’s back on the town. But go ahead. Jail him.’

‘I already have.’

‘I know.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘Smart city lawyers…’

‘I am the magistrate,’ he said mildly, and she ground her teeth some more.

‘Yeah. Well, stop filling police cells and go do something useful.’

Something useful… For heaven’s sake, hadn’t these people heard of a little respect? He was the magistrate!

But respect wasn’t in Shanni’s vocabulary.

‘The psychologist is coming to the children’s home tomorrow to assess Harry,’ she continued. ‘That’s why I’m here. Don’t get any funny ideas that I might want to see you or anything. I don’t. But Wendy needs a statement saying that you’ve been able to make contact.’

‘Make contact?’ Nick stared, bemused. She was still furious and she looked really something when she was angry. As if there were sparks inside as well as out.

‘Yes. That you’ve been able to communicate with him and he’s showed signs of affection. Otherwise he risks being classified as autistic and we’ll get nowhere. He’ll be taken away from Wendy, and there’s no chance he’ll be considered for adoption with a label like that.’

‘Shanni, it’s…’

‘None of your business,’ she snapped, eyes flashing. ‘Like Bart isn’t my business. This is a small community here, Nick Daniels, and everyone cares for everybody. And even if it wasn’t a small community… Haven’t you ever heard the line “Any man’s death diminishes me…”’

That floored him. For heaven’s sake… John Donne’s poetry being flung at him by angry kindergarten teachers…

‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind…’

But Nick wasn’t, he thought blankly. No way. He’d tried as hard as he could, for all of his life, to be exactly the opposite. As uninvolved in mankind as possible.

‘How can you not care?’ Shanni said hotly. ‘Nick, you’re the only hope he has.’

‘I…’

‘You don’t care for anyone. Of course you don’t. I can see that.’ She shook her blonde curls in fury. ‘So don’t do anything about it. See him locked in a psychiatric institution…’

‘Hey…’

‘If you care, then go and talk to Wendy.’

‘Wendy?’

‘Wendy,’ she said kindly, as if he was a sandwich short of a picnic. ‘The head of the children’s home he’s in. Bay Beach orphanage is split into five homes and Wendy’s in charge of Harry’s.’ She glared again. ‘So help her. If you have one ounce of decency in your body then it’s the least you can do.’

‘But you…’

‘And you needn’t worry. You won’t meet me there, so your reputation will remain untarnished. I’m going to a movie with my mother. Something about a runaway bride.’ She glowered. ‘Which will suit me down to the ground. Runaway bride? Ha! If all the men around her are as appalling as you and John, I can’t say I blame her for her choice.’