Chalk Dust & Broomsticks, Chapter 46

Gina Blunt returns from the maternity home to find that her husband is under arrest.

The Arrest of Nick Blunt
Meanwhile, Stanhope, accompanied by another officer, pulled up outside Nick Blunt’s suburban home. Nick, expecting to settle into an evening of stressing over his impending fatherhood, answered the door in a knitted cardigan, a book of baby names clutched in his hand.

"Inspector Stanhope. Is this about Geoff? I told you everything I know," Nick said, his voice quivering with residual anxiety from his meeting with Jane.

"It’s about five hundred pounds, Mr. Blunt," Stanhope stated. "Five hundred pounds in used notes, paid to Wayne, Gerald’s son, to take Alex Simmons’s red sports car and drop it off a cliff in Cornwall."

Nick instinctively tried to close the door, but the officer’s foot was already in the jam.

“We know you were communicating with Alex’s phone after she was dead. We know you were worried about Alex exposing your affair with Marie to Gina; and we know you helped Althea cover up the murder by hiring Wayne to dispose of the evidence," Stanhope continued, relentless. "You’re under arrest for conspiracy to pervert the course of justice."

Nick slumped against the door frame, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Gina... Gina’s just come out of the maternity home, the birth is imminent. Please, don’t let her see this.”

Stanhope glanced past Nick and saw Gina Blunt standing in the hallway. She was heavily pregnant, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. She wasn't weeping; she looked utterly hollowed out, as if she had already heard the entire story from a cleaner in a café.

“She already knows, Mr. Blunt,” Stanhope said quietly, taking Nick’s arm. “She knows more than you think.”

Nick offered no resistance. As he was led away in handcuffs, he looked back at Gina, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the floor.

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Next Day
Ranjit was on the phone to Shirley, who had just returned from work to her cosy cottage. Her three cats were waiting for her.

“…so it’s all kicking off now?” he questioned.

“It sure is,” replied Shirley. “Althea and Nick Blunt have been arrested, and Gerald is being held for the desecration of a body, preventing it from receiving a decent burial!”

“And what is Gerald likely to get for that, do you think?”

“Who knows. I looked it up and it seems there hasn’t been a recent precedent for that kind of behaviour, so it’s anybody’s guess what his sentence will be.”

“Do you think he’ll go to prison?”

Shirley stopped to think for a moment. “It’s his first offence, so they may be lenient. We’ll have to see. Naturally, Jane is beside herself. She’s a brave woman, but it can’t be easy with her large family. And oh, I forgot to mention, Wayne, her eldest son, has been charged with taking Alex’s car and driving it to Cornwall. It ended up over a cliff!”

“Shocking, absolutely shocking,” Ranjit could hardly contain his horror at the flood of information.

“We don’t know the half of it yet, I think…”

Shirley’s mobile phone began to beep. Another call was cutting in.

“Can I ring you back, Ranjit? I’ve got another call coming in and I think I need to take it.”

“Of course.”

The incoming call was from the Deputy Head, Sue Phillips, wanting to ensure Shirley was coming into school the next day.

“Shirley speaking.”

“Hello Shirley, I’m sorry to phone you at home when you’ve probably just walked through the door, but something has come up and I want to discuss it with you urgently. Could you possibly come in a little earlier tomorrow morning?” Mrs. Phillips’s voice sounded frayed and anxious.

“Yes, I can manage that,” replied Shirley, nervously twisting the plastic cord of her landline between her fingers.

“Okay, good. See you in the morning then. You can come straight to my office.”

Shirley hung up, her mind racing. So much had happened, and so quickly. Seeking a moment of quiet focus, she fed the cats, put the kettle on, and fetched her velvet pouch of tarot cards.

Half an hour later, Shirley sat at her occasional table, the cottage quiet around her save for the low purring of her cats. The air felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension. She decided on a traditional three-card spread: What Was, What Is, and What Will Be.

With a fast-beating heart, she shuffled the deck, feeling the familiar texture of the card stock beneath her fingertips, and drew the first card.

It was The Tower. Shirley drew a sharp breath. The card depicted a great stone fortress fractured by a jagged bolt of lightning, its golden crown tumbling into the abyss below. It was the ultimate symbol of sudden disruption, chaos, and the violent collapse of the old order. The foundations of Primrose Primary were shattering, just as the card predicted. Yet, she knew that sometimes a structure had to be utterly broken before something better could be built in its place.

Steeling herself, she shuffled the deck once more, clearing her mind, and drew the second card: Strength.

Instead of chaos, this card radiated a profound, quiet calm. It showed a woman crowned with infinity, gently but firmly closing the jaws of a fierce lion. It spoke of internal fortitude, resilience, and grace under pressure. Shirley smiled, feeling a soothing warmth wash over her thumping heart. The school was standing in the middle of ruins right now, but there was an enduring power ready to carry them through.

With a slight tremble in her fingers, she shuffled for the third and final time. She closed her eyes, emptying her thoughts of all wishes and fears so as not to influence the energies.

Just as her hand hovered over the deck to turn the all-important final card, the future, the sudden, shrill ring of the telephone shattered the silence.

Shirley jumped, letting out a small gasp, and picked up the receiver. It was Dora Wales.

“Shirley, Shirley, you’ll never guess what! There’s been a massive development.” Dora was practically bursting to share her news.

“What is it, Dora? I hope it’s something good. Go on, spill the beans…”

“It’s Paula. Paula Manipulator. Her husband’s had a stroke, a really bad one. She’s not coming back, Shirley. She’s going to retire immediately. She told Mrs. Phillips today. She said she couldn’t stand it anymore, the stress of everything happening at the school was just too much, and now this. Apparently, he’s had a stroke before, but this one is far worse. She doesn’t expect him to recover.”

“But she can’t just walk out, can she?” Shirley stood up, the landline cord stretching as she began pacing the floor.

“Well, she just has. She handed Mrs. Phillips her keys and left. You know she’s past retiring age anyway, so she will get her pension, but it’s so sudden! It leaves us in the s..t a bit, doesn’t it!” Dora always took a certain vindictive joy in imparting gossip no one else knew yet.

“Well, that depends, doesn’t it,” answered Shirley, her mind instantly clicking the pieces together. The Tower... the collapse of the old leadership. “If you could come out of the classroom and help me again, like we used to do, we could manage, couldn’t we?”

“Of course! Yes, if we could each do a few more hours. I wouldn’t mind at all, but it’s up to Mrs. Phillips. She’ll have to decide.”

“I’m seeing Sue first thing in the morning. Maybe that’s exactly what she wants to talk to me about.”

“Okay, well, let me know what she says as soon as you can!” Dora rang off.

Shirley hung up the receiver, a sudden, electric tingle running through her veins. A massive shift was happening, and the path was clearing for a brand-new era. She looked back down at the table, where the final, unrevealed card lay face down in the shadows.

What would the third card be? Dare she even turn it over?

+++

Gina Blunt stood in her bedroom, sobbing her heart out. Suddenly, she felt a strange, warm rush between her legs and realised with a shock that her waters had broken. It was early for that to happen, but then, the dates had never been entirely certain, had they?

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes puffy and her skin flushed with panic. Could I have gotten the dates wrong? she wondered, a sudden realization gripping her. If the timeline is different... then this baby can't be Geoff's. It must be Nick's.

Terrified, she rang the midwife, who instructed her to go straight to the maternity home. Transport was quickly arranged, and within the hour, Gina was ensconced in a comfortable bed at the private ‘Happy Bunny’ Maternity Home, nervously waiting for the contractions to start.

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