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priest in Christ’s church. He didn’t like to tell a lie.

CHAPTER FOUR

    I t took but a second for Declan to surge towards the drum. “You lazy cow!” he shouted. “Get out of there now!”
    “Leave her be,” Tom warned over Bumble’s excited barking, grabbing Declan’s arm before he could advance any further.
    But Declan proved difficult to restrain. “Sybella, you stupid bitch, get out of my drum! Get out!
Get out!
I’ll
kill
you, you stupid cunt.”
    That was it. “Charlie! Daniel! Take Declan outside.” Tom gestured towards the two boys, who appeared nonplussed by their friend’s fury. “Mrs. Prowse, would you mind taking Miranda out? Colonel …?”
    But Colonel Northmore, who had been glaring at Declan with disgust, turned and began to move away, tugging at Bumble’s lead.
    “Julia, stay with me a moment.” Tom grunted as he passed off the flailing and strangely powerful teenager to Charlie and Daniel. The two boys took Declan by the arms and half pushed, half dragged their friend towards the door, but he proved too strong for them, thrusting them aside, sending one of them, Daniel, stumbling backwardsacross the floor. Daniel crashed into the colonel. The old man seemed to totter for a second as he attempted to maintain his footing, and then went tumbling to the tiles with a sickening cracking noise, echoed by the clatter of his walking stick as it rolled across the floor and succeeded by a noisy protest from Bumble.
    “Colonel!” Julia cried, moving to bend over the crumpled figure. Oblivious, Declan struggled back towards the drum, dragging Charlie with him like a limpet. But before Tom could reengage in restraining the flailing youth, Charlie, with renewed vigor, twisted Declan around; with a look of determination and a kind of glee, he drove his fist into his friend’s stomach. Declan’s face blazed with shock. He jackknifed backwards, his mouth an oval as if he were about to spew; then he, too, hit the floor. The dog stopped barking in that instant, as if he, too, were astonished. The merciful silence was interrupted by a massed chorus of tiny bells, then a quizzical voice:
    “Daniel? What the hell are you doing? What’s going on here?”
    It was Eric Swan standing in the open door that Madrun and Miranda had just vacated. He pushed his Tudor bonnet back on his brow, stirring the plaited ribbons. The bells on his shin pads continued their mad tinkling.
    Tom gave a passing thought to the scene: one elderly gentleman being licked by his terrier and two Ninja Turtle youths flat on the floor, a third huffing with exertion and kneading his fist, and two adults challenged as effective referees. The intrusion of a man dressed as a morris dancer just made the awful turn of events seem that much more inconceivable.
    “Colonel,” Julia said gently, kneeling to the floor, resting one hand under his head, and readjusting his regimental tie, which had flipped around his neck, “that was a very nasty crack. I don’t expect you’re able to get up, are you?”
    Northmore appeared to think about it for a moment, then a shudder of pain travelled across his craggy features. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He winced. “I don’t think I can. My legs …” He winced again.
    With her other hand, Julia pulled her mobile from her trouser pocket. As she flipped it open and pressed a button, she glanced towards the
o-daiko
drum and addressed Tom. “I don’t know how she can sleep through all of this.”
    “I hope she’s in a coma,” Declan moaned, clutching his stomach.
    “Alastair, where are you? Good, then you can get here quickly. You’re needed at the village hall,” Julia spoke urgently into the phone. “Alastair, it’s an emergency. Don’t give me an argument. Yes, I said it was an
emergency
. Of course I mean medical. Of course I’ll phone for an ambulance.” She snapped the phone shut. “He’s in his car,” she said to Tom, who noted a flicker of fury in her expression. He wondered if