haunting my thoughts and daydreams since I got the confirmation we were to meet in person.
My mobile phone rang.
‘Probably my secretary,’ I told Agatha and answered the anonymous call. ‘Josh O’Neil.’
I didn’t catch the first part of the conversation, just the end: ‘We have your nephew in custody for being drunk and disorderly.’
My stomach cringed. With no less than two sentences, my day had fallen to pieces.
‘Jesus,’ I uttered, at my wits’ end.
Agatha frowned as if to ask what was wrong, but soon after her expression changed and I knew she’d guessed it.
‘I’ll be there straight away,’ I told the police officer, my core temperature shooting up to a near fever. ‘The little shit. He just had to mess up this important day, didn’t he?’
I punched in another number on my phone. Agatha kept quiet and dried the dish she’d washed.
‘Craig,’ I said when my brother answered.
‘What is it?’ he asked, annoyed. ‘I’m right in the middle of a meeting.’
‘Of course you are. Just tell her to powder her nose for a minute while I talk to you,’ I retorted. I usually never took that tone with his temper at stake, but I was quite livid myself. Being pissed off was strangely liberating.
‘What is it?’
‘Listen, the coppers have Zack. I have to go and sort this shit out.’
After a considerable silence with no insults or condescension, for a change, Craig said, ‘Where exactly are you when he gets into trouble? He lives with you, after all.’
‘I don’t have time for this. Just go to the centre and show your face so our company’s already putrid reputation doesn’t earn the labels of unreliable and cowardly as well, okay?’ I ranted. ‘And for Christ’s sake, look interested.’
I hung up before he could reply, knowing he wouldn’t have anything constructive to say, plus I was in a hurry. Agatha nodded as I flew out the back door to the garage to go perform my duties as guardian for the boy I couldn’t get through to.
Traffic was horrendous, as it always was when I had to get somewhere in a hurry. I weaved through the lanes on my way to the police station, feeling defeated. Perhaps Craig was right. I had a problem with keeping the boy on a straight path, but I’d tried everything. What was I missing?
‘Sorry, Amber,’ I said out loud. ‘Looks like we’ll have to postpone destiny.’
When I arrived at the station, a tired-looking desk officer met me. She was busy talking to someone on the phone and when she finished, she looked at me with a friendly expression.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked, adjusting her clothing and her hair.
‘I’m here to pick up my nephew, Zack O’Neil,’ I said politely.
I made a point of not exploding in a torrent of words when Zack strolled into the waiting area, guided by a tall, bald police officer with huge light blue eyes and reddish skin. He reminded me of an army sergeant, a man who took no shit from teenagers for sure. His nametag read, ‘Cartwright.’
‘Mr. O’Neil, I believe you’re Zack’s guardian?’ he said in a robust voice that sounded coarse and sore.
‘Yes, I am, officer,’ I replied, slightly intimidated by the man.
‘We picked him up at Highbury Station, drunk and causing all manner of bother.’ He sneered, glancing at my nephew.
Zack was dead quiet. Judging by his pallor, it wasn’t so much the inebriation as the intimidation that kept him silent. He was rightfully wary of Cartwright, which was good; he needed a man who made him think twice.
‘I’ve told young Zack here that he should be kept in overnight to teach him a lesson. I don’t believe in rapping on the knuckles, Mr. O’Neil. I believe in stern reprimand and a bit of discipline the first time round. You would be amazed how few second-time perpetrators we get if we teach them the ugly side of life on the first turn.’
‘I agree. I’ll make sure that he’s punished accordingly,’ I threatened.
Zack didn’t look at me. He hung
My mobile phone rang.
‘Probably my secretary,’ I told Agatha and answered the anonymous call. ‘Josh O’Neil.’
I didn’t catch the first part of the conversation, just the end: ‘We have your nephew in custody for being drunk and disorderly.’
My stomach cringed. With no less than two sentences, my day had fallen to pieces.
‘Jesus,’ I uttered, at my wits’ end.
Agatha frowned as if to ask what was wrong, but soon after her expression changed and I knew she’d guessed it.
‘I’ll be there straight away,’ I told the police officer, my core temperature shooting up to a near fever. ‘The little shit. He just had to mess up this important day, didn’t he?’
I punched in another number on my phone. Agatha kept quiet and dried the dish she’d washed.
‘Craig,’ I said when my brother answered.
‘What is it?’ he asked, annoyed. ‘I’m right in the middle of a meeting.’
‘Of course you are. Just tell her to powder her nose for a minute while I talk to you,’ I retorted. I usually never took that tone with his temper at stake, but I was quite livid myself. Being pissed off was strangely liberating.
‘What is it?’
‘Listen, the coppers have Zack. I have to go and sort this shit out.’
After a considerable silence with no insults or condescension, for a change, Craig said, ‘Where exactly are you when he gets into trouble? He lives with you, after all.’
‘I don’t have time for this. Just go to the centre and show your face so our company’s already putrid reputation doesn’t earn the labels of unreliable and cowardly as well, okay?’ I ranted. ‘And for Christ’s sake, look interested.’
I hung up before he could reply, knowing he wouldn’t have anything constructive to say, plus I was in a hurry. Agatha nodded as I flew out the back door to the garage to go perform my duties as guardian for the boy I couldn’t get through to.
Traffic was horrendous, as it always was when I had to get somewhere in a hurry. I weaved through the lanes on my way to the police station, feeling defeated. Perhaps Craig was right. I had a problem with keeping the boy on a straight path, but I’d tried everything. What was I missing?
‘Sorry, Amber,’ I said out loud. ‘Looks like we’ll have to postpone destiny.’
When I arrived at the station, a tired-looking desk officer met me. She was busy talking to someone on the phone and when she finished, she looked at me with a friendly expression.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked, adjusting her clothing and her hair.
‘I’m here to pick up my nephew, Zack O’Neil,’ I said politely.
I made a point of not exploding in a torrent of words when Zack strolled into the waiting area, guided by a tall, bald police officer with huge light blue eyes and reddish skin. He reminded me of an army sergeant, a man who took no shit from teenagers for sure. His nametag read, ‘Cartwright.’
‘Mr. O’Neil, I believe you’re Zack’s guardian?’ he said in a robust voice that sounded coarse and sore.
‘Yes, I am, officer,’ I replied, slightly intimidated by the man.
‘We picked him up at Highbury Station, drunk and causing all manner of bother.’ He sneered, glancing at my nephew.
Zack was dead quiet. Judging by his pallor, it wasn’t so much the inebriation as the intimidation that kept him silent. He was rightfully wary of Cartwright, which was good; he needed a man who made him think twice.
‘I’ve told young Zack here that he should be kept in overnight to teach him a lesson. I don’t believe in rapping on the knuckles, Mr. O’Neil. I believe in stern reprimand and a bit of discipline the first time round. You would be amazed how few second-time perpetrators we get if we teach them the ugly side of life on the first turn.’
‘I agree. I’ll make sure that he’s punished accordingly,’ I threatened.
Zack didn’t look at me. He hung
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