Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2023 23:38:39 +0000 From: Jonah Subject: Halls of Academia Chapter 8 HALLS OF ACADEMIA BY JONAH This is a work of fiction so be aware that every character herein is also fictitious. If you think you recognise yourself, or somebody else in here - you don't. Some places, and some institutions in here are real, but the people attached to those institutions in the story are not. At least one character is the creation of another author, Jacob Lion, in the USA. My thanks to Jacob for his permission to use his characters in my story. This story is brought to you, at no charge, by Nifty. Nifty does not charge either me or you to publish this story, but if does cost money to publish it. Please consider donating to Nifty to keep this site going. https://donate.nifty.org/ Chapter eight "Daddy!" I put an arm around the boy in question to reassure him. It was still very dark. "What?" I didn't trouble to point out that I was not his daddy. Peter was sleeping in Jonah's room again. "I need toilet, but I'm scared." "It's alright Adam, I'll come with you." Marion would have a fit. Jonah usually left the bathroom light on for just such an eventuality. He had evidently forgotten on this occasion - probably overtired. He hadn't forgotten. The bulb in the bathroom light had evidently expired. I switched on the landing light and sat on the edge of the bath while Adam peed (and peed, and peed). As soon as he had finished, I took him back to bed. Since Lloyd was already wrapped around Garrett, I lifted him into bed with me. I don't think it took us long to get back to sleep. Morning saw me downstairs before anybody else stirred. I put a big pan on the stove and began to manufacture porridge. There was a light tap on the door. It was James Dorridge, Jonah's landlord, who was returning the dog that he had looked after for Jonah yesterday. "Come in James," I said. "I've just put the kettle on." You'd have thought, having looked after the animal for the past twenty-four hours, that he would have more sense than to sit on the sofa while the dog was nearby, but it didn't seem to bother him that the front end of the dog was immediately in his lap. I liked James. He had always seemed to be the one who took responsibility for his family. His parents certainly hadn't. His father had died in prison, either by his own hand or somebody else's, but we'll never know which. According to PC Drage, the police had made a determined attempt to find out, but the evidence just wasn't there. We never heard any more of his mother. They may have given her a new identity, or she may have contrived to vanish of her own accord. None of her family ever saw her again. "What's Justin doing these days?" I asked as we sipped our tea. "Him and his wife are janitor and head cleaner of a primary school in New Southgate," came the reply. "They seem to be happy, but there'll be complications soon because Sandra's expecting." "Crumbs!" I said. "Everybody's doing it. Are you still in touch with Jason?" "Oh yes. He's hoping to get into commercial flying when his tour with the RAF finishes next year." "What's he doing now?" "He's up at Lyneham, flying A400Ms." "Atlases?" "Yup! That's them. Dirty great big things." "Should be able to get himself a job flying Airbuses then." "Oh, he's confident he will. Anyway, I'd better get back downstairs. Toby will be in soon and it'll be time to open the shop." "It's good to see you again James," I said, taking his cup from him. "Yeah, likewise," he replied as he opened the door. "Don't be such a stranger next time." He departed and I poured myself a bowl of porridge. ""Who was that," my little brother wanted to know. "Flash," I replied. "We've just been having a cup of tea. He didn't want porridge." Pete ignored that. I should know better than to attempt to wind him up. It never works. "Jonah's in the shower. I expect he'll be down soon. I guess Garrett isn't an early riser." "What do you define as an early riser?" I asked - genuinely interested. "Well I'm always up early," he said, obviously expecting a challenge. "What do you define as early?" "I'd take the fifth on that one Peter, if I were you," said our host, coming down the stairs with a towel round his waist. Peter looked about to say something but he changed his mind and headed back upstairs. "You know you're not supposed to wind him up," said Jonah. "That's my job." "At least you knew he wasn't going to beat you to the shower," I said. He was just about to return upstairs with clean underwear when the phone rang. He turned around to answer it. "Do I look as if I was born yesterday," he said to me. "Jonah Cummings.... No officer, it's Jonah Cummings, but Mr. Khan is standing next to me." He handed the handset to me. "Hellesdon Police," he told me. "Simon Khan," I told the handset. "Mr. Kahn, it's PC Wharton of the Hellesdon and Horsham Policing Team. Sorry to ring you so early. Did you say Mr Simon Khan?" "That's right," I told him. "Ah, we really needed to speak to Mr. Peter Khan." "He's in the shower. I'll go and get him for you." "No, no that's quite alright Mr. Khan. We'd have needed to speak to you as well anyway. It concerns you sister-in-law." "Marion," I said, carefully not making it a question. "Mrs Marion Khan," he confirmed. "She's back in custody at Sprowston." "More trouble?" "Yes sir. She was arrested in Newton St Faith a little after midnight last night. Two of our officers apprehended her while she was pouring petrol through your letter box. She'd already poured some over the back door so she wasn't intending there to be survivors." My blood ran cold. "She then threw petrol over one officer and threatened them both with a lighter. The other officer laid her out with a blow to the chin and called for assistance." "Do you need us back in Norfolk?" "There's no hurry Sir. We can hold her for criminal damage and attempted murder, but assault and attempted murder of a police officer will hold her anyway. We got the fire brigade to break in and wash the petrol off for you, and a contractor to secure the place. You might want to get the damage repaired properly before you come back up here. Your house insurance should cover that." "Thanks officer. Did you still want to speak to Peter?" "Only to tell him that it's safe for him to go back to Colchester if he wishes. We're holding her at Sprowston, but she'll not be going back to Colchester for many a long year - if at all." "You think she'll get a custodial sentence?" "For attempted murder? Are you joking?" he seemed genuinely surprised. "Between you and me Sir, trying to set fire to a policeman with petrol isn't the action of a sane person. I think she's bound for a secure mental establishment. There's no limit on the sentences in those. I'd be surprised if she comes out again." "Fair enough officer. I'll speak to Peter for you." "Thank you Sir. If you need to know anything else, the crime number is HH35/4141. Ask to speak to PC237, Constable Wharton.." "Thank you constable. Goodbye for now." As soon as I put down the phone I collapsed heavily on the sofa. "Trouble Simon?" asked Jonah. "Not for us," I replied. Hurriedly I told him the whole story. "Whew!"he said when I had finished. "I don't know how Peter is going to take that, but there's no avoiding telling him." "I know," I said ruefully. "I promised I would, but I think I'd recommend not telling the boys." Jonah stood up. "I'll get the boys and Garrett up," he said, "then you'll be able to have a word with Peter." The word with Peter was not easy. My brother had been through depression before. It was not hard to tell that he was close to it. As one gets older, life doesn't get easier. I was glad that my father had entrusted our upbringing to Jonah because, at times like this, it was good to have Jonah's support. It's an inevitable part of life that, as one gets older, the props and supports of life fall away one by one.Ten years ago I'd have suggested contacting our grandfather - himself, by that time, a widower. Sadly, that was no longer possible. Eventually life becomes something that you just get on with, not least because others, by that time, are depending on you. I managed to get Peter downstairs and feed him some breakfast. Lloyd sat next to him and tried to cuddle him. That required Peter's cooperation, which he didn't get, but it was good to see the boy's sympathetic nature rising to the occasion. While this went on I rang my insurers. There are, of course, insurers and insurers, and you don't get to find out which sort you are patronising until you need them. Well this lot turned up trumps. Yes they could arrange for a contractor to make good the damage and leave the place secure. No, it was not necessary for us to be present. No I was not to worry - they would see to everything. It was at this point that Jacob Davis chose to join us. The cute, lively and energetic child had grown into a fairly obnoxius teenager. Yes, I know Jonah always said that I had been one of those, but I had grown out of it. If Jacob didn't want to come in for an awful lot of grief, he was going to have to as well. "Did they leave you on your own again Jacob," I asked, scotching on the sofa. "Dad's gone to work and Mum's volunteering at that food bank in the Church," he replied. "Didn't you fancy volunteering as well," I queried. "You might enjoy it." "I've got better things to do than feed the indolent masses," he mumbled. I didn't pretend not to have heard him, though I was tempted. Instead, I asked, "What's your definition of the indolent masses?" "There are thousands of them - accept hand-outs rather than work for a living," he grumbled. "I'd have thought that you'd find it a comfort that you're not on your own," I said evenly. Just for the record, looks can NOT kill. If they could, I'd have perished ignominiously on the spot, but they can't. ""You two can't talk anyway," he sneered eventually. "One of you spends his time tormenting kids while the other interferes with people's lives in court, and neither of you is any better than your old man - the token "coloured" on the OWWWW!" I had not seen Peter move, he'd done it so quickly. I was, however, in time to sieze his arm and prevent him from following Jacob to the floor to rain more blows. Mind you, the one that did land would be colouring Jacob's left eye very shortly. Pete was seething. "Worthless piece of......" "Pete," I said sharply. "There's no need. He may well be a worthless piece of whatever you were about to say in front of two small children, but you can't give him more than two black eyes, and you're halfway there already." "Get up you," ordered Jonah, standing over the now trembling Jacob. The boy struggled to his feet. He was close enough to Jonah's height for Jonah to be able to hiss, "We're not having this conversation in front of those two children. Get up those stairs - NOW." There was no reply from Jacob. He simply complied. Jonah turned to me. "You can let go of your brother now Simon," he said. "The two of you have got children to look after." Pete and I joined Lloyd and Adam on the other sofa as Jonah followed Jacob upstairs. Both boys were nervous of Pete. "I'm sorry boys," he said. "You shouldn't hit people and I shouldn't have done that. I'm really sorry and I'm going to have to say sorry to Jacob when he comes down." Both boys scooted closer to me. "Good start Pete," I told him, "but it's going to take a little while to build that trust back up." "At least I didn't throw him on the floor." "No mate," I replied, "and you could have done. We learned martial arts so that we could learn discipline, and we learned defence techniques for when they are necessary. Somebody saying something that you don't like is hardly a case of necessity." "He's a....." "We know what he is. You still need to calm down and, you're right, you need to apologise." Not a lot was said after that. Eventually Jacob came very quietly down the stairs. Pete rose and waited at the bottom of the stairs for him. "Jacob, mate," he began. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." "I asked for it," the boy said. "Even so, I shouldn't have done it." "Why did nobody ever tell me?" Jacob demanded. "Yell you what?" Pete asked. "That you're an obnoxious brat?" Jacob never flinched. "I suppose I am," he said. "I suppose you're not," I put in. "We shouldn't judge people but, If we do, it has to be for what they do, not what they are. I know what you are. I remember when you were born. I held you in my arms and so did Pete." "And nobody told me," Jacob commented. "Nobody told me that Jonah, and you and Pete saved my life before I was even born. And my mum and dad. Nobody told me that they were homeless on the streets. It would have made sense of a lot of things. Nobody told me how hard they worked to give me all the things that I have. Oh, I'm an obnoxious brat all right." "Give us time Jacob," I said. "For?" "Give us time to work out if you're still an obnoxious brat. If Pete ever blacks your eye for you again, you can take it that you are." It must have hurt him to laugh with the black eye - but he did.