When she arrived close enough to Colin, his arm stole around her waist and, with his other hand, he tipped her face up to look at him with a crooked finger under her chin.
“I was curious how you spent your days.” His voice was low and soft and he was looking at her like he’d looked at her in the Centre.
To her dismay, and against her will, she felt her body react to it by relaxing.
She fought against her body but, it must be said, didn’t entirely succeed with her struggle.
“I’m very angry with you,” she announced in an effort to control her emotions.
“I can tell,” he grinned, completely unaffected by her words.
She sought refuge in fury. “Don’t you grin at me, Colin Morgan. You haven’t heard the last of this.” Then, for her sanity (and for the oldies), she tore free of his arm and stalked out of the office.
Several of the oldies were still packing up but she could see the minibus was already there and some of them were getting panicked.
Colin had followed her and she was helping Marianne pack up her cigarettes, lighter and a variety of napkin wrapped food she hadn’t eaten at lunch and would consume for dinner (Tina always gave Marianne a little extra because Marianne didn’t have much and would skip dinner if she didn’t).
Sibyl took Marianne’s heavy carrier bag filled with whatever Marianne (or any of the oldies, most of them seemed to lug around bulky carrier bags) carried around with her all the time, turned around and saw Colin staring out the windows at the bus.
“Make yourself useful,” she ordered grumpily and began to hand him the carrier bag but, uncharacteristically impolitely, he didn’t take it and she lifted her eyes to his face.
Now he was staring out the window and whatever he saw made the warm, tender expression he was wearing moments ago fade to one of complete fury.
Then he turned without a word and, with long, quick, ground-eating strides, headed for the door.
She whirled to see what had made him react in such a way and saw Annie trying to alight into the bus.
Annie, blind and reaching, was not having a good time of it and all the while the minibus driver stood not two feet away, smoking a roll up and not assisting her, even though it was clear Annie was having trouble.
Sibyl, still carrying Marianne’s bag, ran after Colin. She exited the door in time to see Annie catch her foot on the step of the bus and stumble. Her heart tripping in alarm, Sibyl sucked in her breath just as Annie righted herself at the last minute.
Kyle was at the back loading a folded wheelchair so he couldn’t see what was happening.
The minibus driver flicked his butt into the grass.
“What in bloody hell is going on here?” Colin demanded while Sibyl raced up behind him. At his deep, angry voice, most jumped and everyone turned to stare. “Everyone, get off the bus,” Colin ordered and Sibyl’s mouth dropped open in shock but before she could say anything, Colin turned to the driver. “What’s your name?” he demanded in his smooth, even tone that said, in about two seconds, the driver was about to have Colin’s fist in his face.
“Who’re you?” The driver, clearly not that bright, didn’t read Colin’s tone.
“I said, what’s your goddamned name?” Colin roared.
Sibyl (and pretty much every one else) jumped again. She quickly put down Marianne’s bag and ran to help Annie away from the minibus.
“Why’d you wanna know?” the driver asked on a mini-sneer.
“I want to know,” Colin enunciated every word with perfect clarity, “because I’ll need to be certain I get the right man sacked.”
The minibus driver stared at Colin goggle-eyed and everyone gasped (including Sibyl).
“You can’t get me sacked!” the driver snapped.
“Would you like to bet?” Colin’s voice was still smooth, dangerous and had a very sharp edge. “Did you not see that woman struggling to get into the bus?” he demanded.
The minibus driver shrugged, thinking it was a good idea to throw fuel on the fire. “Not my job.”
“You’re not only incompetent, you’re negligent. You drive a bus for elderly people,” Colin informed him. “That makes it your job.”
“Have you read my job description?” this time the driver outright sneered. “I don’t think so.”
“Your job description will be changed by five o’clock tomorrow night. Unfortunately, you won’t be in the job to see it.” That said, Colin turned his back on the driver and said to Sibyl, “Get everyone out of the bus.”
Regardless of the fact that his eyes were blazing, carefully, Sibyl said, “Colin, this is their only way home. It would take Kyle and I –”
While she was talking, he pulled his mobile out of his jacket, flipped it open and punched two numbers.
Once he’d done this, he spoke into it. “Mandy, get me…” He surveyed the crowd that was now exiting the minibus, gathering around and staring at Colin with avid fascination. “Fifteen taxis to the Community Centre at Cadbury Council Estate in Weston. Right now. Have them do a docket and bill it to us.” He paused. “Yes. Right now.”
At his deadly tone, Sibyl felt a chill go down her spine just as she felt a soft flutter in her heart.
He flipped the phone shut.
“Don’t bother me, mate. Makes my afternoon easier,” the minibus driver remarked.
Colin looked over his shoulder at him. “Get used to it; you’re going to have a great deal of free time on your hands.”
Something about the way he said it made pretty much everyone believe it except those who didn’t couldn’t hear what was going on but when they were told, they believed it too.
“Think you’re the big man, get me sacked. She couldn’t get me sacked,” the minibus driver taunted, making it known he most definitely did not have a very high IQ or enough instinct to last an hour in the wild.
Colin slowly turned back to the man, so slowly it was crystal clear he was doing so to keep himself in rigid control.
Sibyl held her breath.
When he spoke again, Colin’s voice was as rigidly controlled as his body.
“If you ever get the chance again, which you will not, you will refer to her as Miss Godwin. And Miss Godwin doesn’t know seventeen councillors on North Somerset Council, all of whom I’ll be having my staff calling in five minutes and telling about you. If they don’t hand me your job by nine o’clock tomorrow morning, I’ll have every paper, TV and radio station in Weston and Bristol all over this estate. The Councillors will undoubtedly listen at that point as they won’t want to be the ones who allowed an incompetent, uncaring, thoughtless bastard to look after their community’s grandparents.”
After this stunning declaration, Mrs. Griffith shouted, “I know two councillors and I’m calling them in five minutes too!”
“I know three!” a gentleman (another one of Sibyl’s favourites) named Gilbert called.
“I don’t know any but I’m calling them anyway,” Marianne yelled.
Before the oldies jumped the minibus driver and brained him with their carrier bags, Kyle, ever the peacekeeper, snapped open the now unloaded wheelchair and shouted, “All right, everyone back into the Centre!”
Colin flipped open his mobile, dialled his two numbers again and said, “Mandy, I want you and every administrator on staff to call every North Somerset Councillor in my Rolodex and tell them…”
Sibyl didn’t wait to hear what he said. She helped Annie to the Centre, scooping up Marianne’s carrier bag along the way, all the while her mind whirling in an attempt to process what had just occurred.
Did Colin just make a scene in front of the Day Centre, battling her hated minibus driver nemesis and conquering him for a bunch of elderly people he didn’t even know?