‘Is there a problem, Officers?’

She didn’t address McDonald, but stared at Falls, black sisterhood in her eyes.

Falls said:

‘We’re here for the “Meet the Kids” scheme.’

The woman smiled, not from humour, but along the lines of ‘You’re not serious.’

She held out her hand, said:

‘I’m Mrs Trent.’

McDonald ignored her, and Falls took her hand, felt the wetness that acute stress brings, said:

‘Delighted to meet you.’

She offered tea and McDonald went:

‘Can we get on with this?’

They could.

The class was composed of mainly black teenagers, a few Asians, and two whites. The atmosphere was hostility on speed. McDonald positioned himself at the back of the room. Falls had no choice but to go behind the desk, and try a cheery ‘Hi, y’all.’

No response.

She got out the useless notes, began:

‘The modern police force…’

And narrowly missed her eye being taken out by a flying missile. The class dissolved in guffaws as she lost her composure, began:

‘Who threw that?’

One of the white kids, a wannabe Eminem who had to work harder to impress the black kids, sniggered, said;

‘Bin Laden.’

Falls looked to McDonald, who was staring at his feet, as if he was someplace else.

He probably was.

Falls turned back to the class, said:

‘We are not the enemy’

The white guy shouted:

‘No, you’re just a cunt.’

McDonald was off his feet, sprinted to the desk, got the guy by the hair, and back-handed him twice, said:

‘Shut your mouth.’

There was a stunned silence. The kid had tears in his eyes and McDonald stared at him, said:

‘Hey tough guy, you peed your pants.’

The black guys began to applaud, and McDonald bowed, said:

‘That’s police work.’

He then moved to the top of the class, Falls moving quickly aside, and he asked: