DANGEROUS LIAISON ENDS IN VICIOUS ATTACK
The son of TV star David Hume has been left in a coma after being attacked on a night out, a court has heard.

Adam Hume, 21, son of award-winning Bright Things star, David Hume, was left in a coma after a confrontation with a barman provoked a vicious attack, Reading Crown Court was told.

Hume and girlfriend Katie Tress were on a night out in Soho’s trendy Block Bar when an argument with Christopher Stone, 20, turned into a violent fight.

‘Sort of consciousness’

‘Mr Hume was enjoying a night out with Miss Tress when Mr Stone interrupted calling Miss Tress, ‘a lying bitch,’ prosecutor Stephen Browne told the court.

He went on to say that Mr Stone and Miss Tress had enjoyed a brief fling earlier in the year, which Miss Tress ended because of her relationship with Mr Hume. Mr Browne told the court that Mr Stone took the news badly and lashed out at Mr Hume in a moment of rage.

A bystander says, ‘It was awful. I was sitting at the table next to them when Adam was pushed to the ground. The guy that was hitting him was completely out of control. Security threw him out and I didn’t see what happened next, but I was really scared. I thought that he was going to kill him.’

Mr Hume suffered a blood clot on the brain that required him to be airlifted to St Thomas’ Hospital, London, for immediate surgery.

He is still in hospital, having recently regained ‘a sort of consciousness’ from a coma, Mr Browne said, adding, ‘Mr Hume is unable to perform any functions for himself.’

Mr Stone admitted causing grievous bodily harm (GBH) with intent, and unlawfully inflicting GBH. He was yesterday sentenced to eight years at Bristol Prison.
Adam’s father, the TV star David Hume said yesterday, ‘Justice has been served, but I still can’t believe this has happened to my son. I don’t think he’ll ever be the same again. I brought my son up to be kind, caring and considerate, a decent member of society. I wonder if the parents of the man that did this to Adam can say the same thing.’

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Chapter Two
The article was still at the forefront of Daniel’s mind as he ran through the afternoon’s registration, several times repeating names in error and prompting exaggerated sighs from his year eleven tutorial group.

‘Nathan Wheeler?’ he called, relieved to finally be at the last name on the register. There was no response. ‘Nathan Wheeler?’

Looking up from his desk, he wasn’t surprised to see that Nathan’s seat at the back of the classroom was empty. No doubt the boy was smoking in the toilets or lurking in the common room.

‘Has anyone seen Nathan today?’ he asked.

In front of him, the class had surrendered to Friday fever and were talking excitedly about their plans for the weekend. In letting his concentration slip for a moment, Daniel realised, he’d lost control completely. He willed himself to put Christopher to the back of his mind until he was home and could actually do something. Which was what? He wondered. Contact the paper? Contact the prison? He didn’t even know where to start.

‘Quiet,’ he called over the furore. ‘Quiet.’

The volume dropped and his tutorial turned to face him, bored expressions on their faces.

‘I asked if anyone has seen Nathan today,’ he said.

‘Who’s looking for him?’

Daniel turned to see Nathan swagger into the classroom, shirt untucked, trousers unbelted. He walked to the back of the room and dropped himself into his seat, his legs splayed under the desk.

Daniel sighed. ‘You’re late, Nathan,’ he said. ‘That’s the fourth time this week. I’ll be mentioning this in my report to Mr Downend.’

Nathan said nothing, instead staring at Daniel until he, Daniel, looked away, uncomfortable.

‘Now that you’re all here,’ he said above the rising chatter, ‘may I remind you that we have our assembly next week? As you know, the theme is ‘forgiveness’ and I need some volunteers to take some readings.’

He drummed his fingers on the desk, knowing what was coming next. As predicted, Gemma Mitchell raised her hand, giving a slight wave as if Daniel should miss her sitting in the front row. Bright, mature and sociable, Gemma was the sort of student that ‘encompasses all that St Bedes represents’ as Alan Downend, the headmaster, said repeatedly, but Daniel found her somewhat irritating in her perfection and so pretended not to see her, willing anyone else to put up their hand. They didn’t, of course, and so he sighed inwardly and said, ‘Would anyone care to join Gemma? I need two boys and two girls.’

Nothing.

‘Fine, then I’ll pick. Gemma, Sarah, Michael, and, - Nathan, you haven’t read before, have you? – that’s fine. Four of you. I’ll give you copies of the readings on Monday.’

The moment the bell rang, there was a cacophony of bags zipping and chairs screeching on the floor and while the majority of Daniel’s class streamed past him – a few wishing him a good weekend - Nathan loitered by the door, his hands in his pockets. At nearly six foot, he was the tallest boy in school and towered above not only his peers, but his teachers too. Though he’d never admitted it to anyone, Daniel was slightly intimidated by Nathan. Not simply because of his height, but because he’d seen him lose his temper in seconds over a matter so minor that it beggared belief. Until Nathan, Daniel had never worried that he might be the victim of a physical attack, but it recently seemed a realistic possibility.

‘Don’t you have a class to go to?’ Daniel asked as he packed up his briefcase.

‘Don’t wanna do a reading,’ Nathan said, hands in pockets. ‘Someone else should do it.’

‘You haven’t read in assembly before.’

‘No, but-,’

‘Everyone needs to take a turn, Nathan,’ Daniel said. ‘If you do it now, you needn’t do it again.’

Still the boy didn’t move. For God’s sake, Daniel thought, what the hell did he want? He had neither the time nor the inclination to debate whether or not he wanted to take part in assembly. And perhaps this was unprofessional, but he took some delight in Nathan’s discomfort. Had he not so often disrupted lessons with his lateness and bad attitude, Daniel wouldn’t have singled him out, but as it was Nathan had long been his antagonist and this was just one small way of taking the upper hand.

‘Look, you’ll have the reading on Monday,’ he said. ‘The assembly isn’t till Friday, so you’ll have time to practice. You don’t need to know it by heart.’

‘I don’t want to do it.’

‘It’s not up for discussion.’

‘But-,’

‘No, Nathan,’ Daniel snapped. ‘You’re doing it. I’m not
interested in hearing your excuses. You’re doing it. Okay? I don’t have time for this messing around.’

Nathan stared at him for a moment, lips pursed, nostrils flaring. For a horrible moment, Daniel was sure that he was going to be punched and his heart raced against his chest as he waited for the blow. Seconds passed and it never came. Instead Nathan walked out of the room into the corridor, muttering, ‘Fucking prick,’ under his breath.

Perhaps Daniel should have pulled him up for swearing, but to do so would just begin another exchange for which he simply didn’t have the energy. Checking his watch, he saw that he could spare a couple of minutes and made his way back to the staffroom.

Taking a seat in one of the tatty sofas, he slipped his chunky mobile phone from his pocket.

'Come on,' he muttered as he switched it on. 'Come on.'

After a moment, the screen blinked with the service provider icon and the battery symbol flashed to indicate that it was running low. He used it so rarely that he never remembered to charge it.

Dialling directory enquiries, he waited for a moment before a woman's voice came on the line, 'What number please?'

Her voice was faint and he walked to the window for better reception. Outside in the playground, discarded crisp packets blew in the breeze and a grey raincloud hung heavy over the sports field.

'What number please?' she asked again.

'Bristol prison.'

'Would you like the number or for me to connect-,'

'Just connect me.'

While he waited, the phone bleeped in his ear to remind him that the battery was running low. He’d been waiting for what felt like minutes when a male voice said, 'Bristol prison.'

'I need to request a visiting form,’ Daniel said.

Hearing the staffroom door open behind him, he turned to see Jane in the doorway with her arms folded tightly across her chest.

'Daniel,' she snapped. 'What the hell are you doing? I’ve just had to go into your classroom to shut your class up. All hell’s breaking loose up there. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do.'

He covered the phone's mouthpiece with his hand.
‘I’ll be there in a minute, Jane,’ he said. ‘Just give me a minute. Please.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘No, Daniel,’ she said. ‘Now. I’ve my own pupils to teach.’

The phone bleeped again in Daniel’s hand. The battery wasn’t going to last much longer and it would be another hour and a half before he was home.

‘I can’t come now, Jane.’

She stared at him for a moment, then turned on her heels and marched out of the room.

The door slammed shut behind her and he brought the phone back to his ear.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I need to request a visiting form. How do I-,’

‘You can’t.’ The man’s tired tone suggested he’d said this a thousand times today. ‘The prisoner needs to send that to you. It’s up to them who they allow to visit.’

‘But he doesn’t have my address.’

‘Then I’d recommend that you write in the first instance.’

‘What if he doesn’t reply?’

He sighed. ‘Then he’s probably not ready to see you. It can take a while for prisoners to see friends and family and-,’

When his voice cut off, Daniel look at the phone’s blank screen. The battery had died. For a split second he considered calling again from the phone in reception. But what would the point be? After all, he’d been told what he needed to do.

At the end of the day, Daniel waited for Jane outside the school entrance. Though there was a light drizzle, he was glad to be out in the fresh air. Since lunchtime, he’d felt as if he were being suffocated with his own thoughts, questions circling like vultures in his mind: what would he write to Christopher? What would he ask? What if he didn’t receive a reply? What if he did and was told to leave him alone?

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was half past three already. He’d been giving Jane a lift home since she started at the school five years ago, and not once had she left the classroom on time. She always had to have 'a quick tidy-up' at the end of the day or a ‘natter’ with one of her more engaged students. Given that Daniel was out of the classroom the moment the bell rang, he couldn’t comprehend her dedication to the job, but it was something he simultaneously abhorred and envied.