Friday 9 November 2012
Shortly before 08:40, the Wormwoods’ car is parked alongside the drives of the Trimots’ house and the house below. The car moves off once Mrs Wormwood and Miss Wormwood have got out.
Ten minutes later, Partner’s car heads towards George Street, from the direction of Cypress Crescent. At George Street it turns right.
At 10:56, I notice that Mrs Pavane’s car is parked at the kerb alongside the Thornboroughs’ house, nose uphill.
Twenty minutes or so later, a car that I think is Mr Fern’s approaches from the direction of George Street and parks opposite the upper entrance of the school. The male driver crosses the road to the middle entrance; he paces towards the upper entrance, returns to the middle entrance, then stands with his back to the wall of the school. Parents start filing in at the middle entrance not long before 11:30.
Soon after I see Mr Fern’s car depart, I see Partner’s car heading in my direction — I suppose it must have been parked beyond Mr Fern’s car. Partner drives past the Old Man’s house.
In the afternoon school-run, the Wormwoods’ car parks opposite the school, just below the level of the upper entrance. The sky has been getting gloomier, and rain is forecast for later.
Partner’s car parks at the kerb by the middle and right-hand-side of the Old Man’s front lawn. After a few minutes, Partner gets out of the car, and lifts Tiny Boy out via the driver’s door. On the far pavement — by now at least, Tiny Boy is clearly not asleep — Partner carries him only part of the way down to the lower entrance of the school.
When Partner and Tiny Boy return, Small Boy is well ahead of them — perhaps ten paces ahead when he reaches the upper half of the school-house garden. He isn’t wearing a bobble-hat, though Tiny Boy is.
I hear the voice of a boy, calling: “Dad!” — it may be Small Boy, asking his father to unlock the car. The flashers of Partner’s car flash, and Small Boy opens the fpd but not very wide. He calls out: “Sammy! Sammy!” in a local accent, and he twinkle-waves wiith the fingers of his right hand, no doubt calling and waving to a friend of his who is on the far pavement. (Small Boy’s hand is at the level of the car’s roof.) Small Boy has a powerful voice, slightly deep for a boy of his age — when he’s shouting, anyway.
Partner approaches Small Boy, and ushers him into the front passenger seat. Holding the top of the door or the top of the door-opening, Partner speaks to Small Boy, no doubt upbraiding him for shouting in the street. I don’t hear Partner’s voice.
Once he is in the driving-seat, Partner takes up a big white envelope which I saw him carrying in his right hand when he was on the far pavement. He turns the envelope over once or twice, then opens it — the flap seems not to be sealed. From the envelope he takes out a white item of no more than A5 size, but folded over three or four times. He unfolds one fold of the item, turns it over, peruses it briefly, refolds it, and puts it back into the big envelope, which he then seems either to give to Small Boy or to put somewhere between the front seats of the car.
Mrs Pavane’s car has gone a little before 16:40.
Rain has been spotting for some while, and by 17:00 the weather is quite wet.