High Moor by Graeme Reynolds Read Free Book Online Page A

dignity.
    “There seems to be something wrong with the video,” he said to the sniggering masses. “I’ll call the repair man, but in the meantime you all might as well take an early break.”
    A cheer rose from the hall as the children, needing no encouragement, filed out to the playground. John grinned to himself, slipped the remote control back into his pocket, and looked across to Michael. His friend was still looking at the floor and didn’t seem to have noticed the antics of Mr Jones.
    Outside in the playground, John went over to Michael and Marie, who were standing alone in the corner of the tarmac play area. “Did you see Jones go flying? Man, I thought I was going to piss myself.”
    “Yeah, it was pretty funny,” said Michael, without conviction.
    “What’s the matter?”
    Marie looked up at John with tear brimmed eyes. “David didn’t come home last night.”
    “What? I saw him go in the house with you two, for tea.”
    “Dad made him go back out and get the tools from the camp,” said Michael. “Dad was mad…really mad. Not seen him go off like that in ages.”
    “Dave probably just stayed in the camp, out of the way, till he calmed down,” said John. “We can go round there on the way home from school and see if he’s there, if you want.”
    Michael looked up and the beginnings of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
    “Yeah, that’s probably it, and Jones was funny as fuck back then. Don’t know what was going on with that video, but we got extra playtime so I’m not complaining.”
    John rolled his eyes up and put on his most angelic expression. “Erm…I might have had something to do with that.” He removed the remote control from his pocket.
    “You did that? John, you are my fucking hero. That was genius, mate. Genius.”
    “John, that was brilliant,” said Marie, “and thanks for cheering us up.” She hugged him and then pulled away, her cheeks flushing scarlet.
    “Oooh! John’s got a girlfriend,” shouted Lawrence Mitchell from across the playground. Heads turned to look at the three friends. Girls sniggered and whispered to each other. John felt his cheeks burn.
    He balled his fists and strode forward to where Lawrence, Simon, and Billy stood. “What’s it to you Mitchell? Looking like a giant panda not good enough? You want some more?”
    “You better get in line if you want to fuck the little slag,” said Billy Phillips, “I hear her brothers have first dibs.”
    Michael stood by John's side. “I’ve had enough of you arseholes,” Marie joined him and the three friends faced their tormentors.
    The playground erupted in cries of “fight, fight, fight,” and the rest of the children formed a circle around the combatants, eager for the violence to begin.
    Mr Smith pushed his way through the crowd, accompanied by two police officers, a man and a woman. “Break it up you lot. Michael, Marie? Can you come with us please? And John? I believe Mr Jones would like a word with you, about the school video recorder.”
    Michael and Marie exchanged confused glances as they were led away through the playground. What had they done now?
    ***
    26th March. Mill Woods, High Moor. 11.34.
    Steven lifted the blue tape and stepped beneath it. Matt Wilshire followed behind him and lit a cigarette. He offered one to Steven, who shook his head and made his way through the bracken to the crowd of men in white forensics coveralls. One of them was being sick in the undergrowth.
    Another of the forensics officers put up his hand. “You might want to stop there, Sergeant."
    “Why’s that?”
    The man pointed to the bracken. The vegetation was covered in congealed blood that stained the green leaves black. Swarms of flies filled the air. The forensics officer’s white coveralls were bright red below the knee.
    “Jesus,” said Steven. “How far does this mess extend?”
    “About ten feet in every direction around that tree,” he said, pointing to an oak tree with the remains