500 Miles from You (Scottish Bookshop #3)(82)

She took a deep breath and moved toward the door. Which was the precise second the fire alarm went off.





Chapter 64


WEEEEEEEEEE!!

The round girl eyed Cormac crossly. “Did you just set the fire alarm on me?” she said, looking murderous.

“What? No!” said Cormac in consternation. If Lissa burst out now . . . well, awkward didn’t quite cover it . . .

There was a loud pummeling noise and shouting barreling down the corridor, and as Cormac stepped toward it, he realized what he was looking at.

The hallway was full of fighters, gang members—the boys who were there as witnesses—and the huge and intimidating family of the defendant himself. The court was specially set up to absolutely avoid this kind of thing from happening, to keep families and gangs apart. Cormac didn’t know what had broken down today, but something obviously had.

The woman waiting for the bathroom turned around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she yelled. “I told you all to stay in your rooms!”

Ah, well, that explained a lot, thought Cormac, as the melee bowled ever closer, and a high-pitched squeal burst from someone. Cormac didn’t hesitate: he headed straight toward the trouble.





Chapter 65


Violence had burst out in the constrained space of the corridor: a mass of youths against a family of mixed ages and sizes, many blond. Screams and curses filled the air. Cormac saw one boy unleash a huge fist and start punching a man full in the face, unusually not immediately pulling back his hand with his fingers broken. He obviously had boxing experience. The smaller and older man beneath him was cowering, his nose squashed to a pulp. As the huge boy raised his fist again, Cormac jumped on him from behind, took his arm, and tried to twist it upward in a restraining position.

“Come on, lad,” he said, in as reasonable a tone as he could manage. “Settle down.”

There was considerable swearing from all sides at this. Someone glanced a blow off Cormac’s ear, but he didn’t let go of his grip on this chap who was far too big for him. Terrible tragedies were caused by young men who didn’t know their own strength, who didn’t know they could fell a man or break a neck with one punch; that they could spend the rest of their lives in jail for one fatal white-hot moment. The man on the other side, with the jelly nose, was whimpering and trembling and didn’t seem able to move at all. Cormac had seen a million fights, in the army and in hospitals. They were always like this and never like the movies: slightly pathetic, very noisy, and completely confusing for everyone involved.

“Come on!” he said, as the big youth spun around trying to dislodge him, and one of his other mates grabbed Cormac’s ear, which was ridiculous, though it also hurt like hell.

“GERROFF!” shouted Cormac, in what would have surprised him to learn was an exceptional London cabbie accent.

They stumbled backward, hitting the wall, and Cormac was about to give up, hissing at the man in front to move out of the bloody way before he got punched again, when the worst thing happened.





Chapter 66


Lissa unlocked the door, and as soon as she did, the other woman pushed her way in and locked it behind them both.

“It’s kicked off,” she said.

The two women in the loo looked at each other rather awkwardly as the shouting and fighting continued beyond the bathroom door.

“Weird sort of panic room,” said Lissa in a waver, attempting to break the ice.

The fire alarm was still going off, but nobody was moving. Lissa assumed, correctly, that someone had set it off on purpose to get everyone out in the corridors. Certainly you couldn’t smell anything. The woman had her phone out and was tutting loudly.

“Sorry,” said Lissa. “Did you really need to use the loo? I can stand in the corner if you like.”

“You don’t look very disabled,” said the woman crossly.

“I know,” said Lissa. “I’m sorry about that. I was having a panic attack. I know that doesn’t count.”

The woman shrugged. “Oh. Well. Maybe that should count.”

“Not if other people need it.”

“I’m gluten intolerant.”

“Oh,” said Lissa. “Oh, well, I am sorry to hear that . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Why were you panicking?” said the other girl eventually, giving up tapping on her phone.

“I . . . I’m meant to be giving evidence. It’s scary to think about it,” said Lissa. She couldn’t believe she’d even managed to say that out loud. “I never used to be frightened about stuff. Then I saw a horrible accident and it really knocked me over.”

She paused. This was . . . this was exactly what Anita had told her to do. Talk about it, over and over. Relive it till she couldn’t be scared of it anymore. That guy too.

“The guy outside . . . the guy I was talking to. He said I should just talk about it.”

“He’s probably right,” said the woman. “Mind you, he went off to have a fight, so God knows.”

“I know . . . bit weird taking advice from a bloke on the other side of a toilet door.”

“Take it where you can get it, I say,” said the woman, looking at her face in the mirror and adjusting her carefully painted-on eyebrows. “I have some advice for you. If you’re meant to be sitting with five lads in a jury situation, don’t go to the toilet.”