Read Maxwell's Retirement for Free Online Page B

stilted, not followed through.’
    ‘It’s a shame we don’t have it.’
    ‘We do.’
    ‘Well, yes, heartsease, I am not denigrating your memory …’
    She waved her mobile at him. ‘I forwarded it to myself.’
    ‘I didn’t see you do that.’
    ‘Ah, the quickness of the Woman Policeman deceives the Head of Sixth Form,’ she said. ‘I went on the suofam course.’
    ‘Suofam?’
    ‘Sneaky use of a mobile,’ she smiled. ‘Anyway, I’ll try to get a meeting with Henry and a few of the IT mob tomorrow. I’m assuming Nolan is awake?’
    Screams of hilarity filtered through from the sitting room.
    ‘Correct.’
    ‘And playing with Julie?’
    ‘Again, right on the button.’
    ‘What are we going to do with her?’
    ‘Well, help her sort herself out, if we can. It would be nice if we could show her rather horrible family that she is worth more than being an unpaid babysitter to the Midwich Cuckoos.’
    ‘I mean now. This evening.’
    ‘Oh, I see. Well, what if we invite her to do a bit of proper babysitting, with a proper boy. You can get her away from her phone perhaps and then you can watch for texts. Is it possible to trace a sender?’
    ‘I’ll have to ask the IT guys. I suspect more than one phone is being used, though.’
    ‘More than one person sending these things.Might that explain why they are sometimes worse than others?’
    ‘No, just more than one phone. You can buy a pay-as-you-go in any supermarket for around twenty pounds. It’s a stalker’s charter. And while we’re on the subject of phones,’ she pointed at hers, sitting on the table, ‘pick that up and join me in the study. Lesson One is about to begin.’
    ‘Awww, miss,’ Maxwell whined. ‘I’ve got a stomach ache. I’ve got a bone in my leg. It’s my granny’s funeral. The dog ate my homework. Anyway,’ his expression became one of low cunning, ‘you know that my phone is at school.’
    She pointed at the door. ‘If you haven’t brought a note from home, you can’t skip this lesson. And no, before you ask, I am not going to write you a note! Now, scram,’ and they made for the stairs, not forgetting to look in to check on their injured son on the way. He was bouncing up and down on the spot with his legs crossed, in a way that can only be done by contortionists and those under six. He was winning – whether by skill or Julie’s good offices – they couldn’t tell.
    ‘We’re upstairs in the study, Nole,’ Jacquie announced.
    ‘Laters,’ he said, waving his fingers at her.
    ‘Right, then.’ She went up to the study, laughing. ‘How old is he?’ she asked his father.
    ‘Twenty. Three. Forty-two. Who knows? He’s a human being, and that’s the important thing.’
    ‘Every child is a human being, Max,’ she said.
    ‘My dear, dear girl,’ he said, pushing open the door of the study. ‘How sweet of you to think so. And how incredibly wrong. Now, no more shilly-shallying , you. Just get that walkie-talkie out and tell me how it works. What does this button do, for example?’
    ‘That switches it on and off, Max. And let’s be honest, you don’t have any trouble switching it off, do you? Just sit down there and don’t let me hear another peep or there’ll be trouble.’
    ‘Have you ever considered teaching, at all?’ he asked, head on one side and a winning expression on his face.
    ‘No,’ she sighed, sitting down beside him. ‘I’ve seen what it can do.’
    And so, little by little, with much sighing and sobbing, mostly from Jacquie, Peter Maxwell learnt all he would ever know about mobile phones. Which was about half of what most people knew, but at least three times more than he knew before. He could already send a text, but after these lessons it would now usually get to the right destination. When he rang someone, the chances now were that they would get the call, rather than someone rather puzzled in Turkey. He had the phone set to vibrate so he would never miss a call. He had privately