Child's Play (35 page)

12

Torrance
was propped up in bed against a mountain of pillows, her flaxen hair glinting in the sunlight. When Dewi walked into the room she smiled at him, then, without warning, began to cry. ‘Hell!’ she croaked, scouring wet cheeks with her fist. ‘Why am I bawling?’

‘
You’re still in shock, dear.’ The policewoman sitting with her handed her some tissues from the box on the locker. ‘And you must be in pain.’

‘
Are you kidding? I hurt in places I didn’t know I had.’ She massaged her throat. ‘It even hurts to speak.’

Dewi
dragged a chair round to the other side of the bed. ‘I’ve just looked in on Imogen,’ he said. ‘She seems to be holding her own.’

‘
How many pills did she take?’ Torrance asked.

‘
Thirty or so.’

‘
It’s my fault,’ she said bleakly, plucking at the damp tissues on the bedspread. ‘I shouldn’t have let her have them. Up to a couple of weeks ago I was taking the pills away after she got them from Matron. She had to ask me when she wanted one.’

‘
Why were you doing that?’

‘
Because she’s a suicide waiting to happen!’ Angrily, she balled up the tissue. ‘She
promised
she wouldn’t overdose. She said she’d felt a bit more human lately, but I still counted them every night and every morning.’ She stared at him. ‘Damn it to hell! I should’ve
known
she’d crack after Sukie died.’

‘
None of this is your responsibility,’ he insisted.

She
touched his hand. ‘You’re wrong, David. Justine and her crowd did what they could, but Imogen always kept them at arm’s length. She
had
to let me get close; I didn’t give her a choice. She was a real uptight Brit long before the accident, you know.’ Then she fell silent, lying motionless. Caught in the air currents, her hair wafted about with a life of its own. Eventually, she said, ‘Vivienne told me Dr Scott and Matron got fired. Is that true?’

He
nodded. ‘And not before time.’

‘
Don’t be cruel,’ she chided. ‘Matron’s got nothing except the school and I guess she did her best.’

‘
No, she didn’t. She stuck her head in the sand and let Scott do as she pleased.’

‘
You think?’ She pondered the matter. ‘Maybe you’re right.’ Letting her head rest on the pillows, she closed her eyes.

‘
I need to talk about the accident,’ he said gently. ‘Are you up to it, or d’you want a nap?’

‘
Hell,’ she said mischievously, eyes still closed, ‘I wish you’d speak proper English. I get one word out of three. Napping is what horses do.’

‘
It’s also what tipsters do when they think they’ve picked a winner,’ he added, sure she was teasing him.

‘
Fancy your knowing that.’ She smiled sleepily, yawned and within seconds fell asleep.

Thinking
it would be better to come back later, he was about to move when she lunged towards him as if galvanised, eyes wide open and face aghast. Her fingers hooked like talons round his arm.

‘
What’s wrong?’ he gasped.

Shuddering,
she whispered, ‘I’m so
scared
!’ She stared at him fearfully, mouth working. ‘Of the dreams I had. The nightmares!’

He
laid his free hand on hers, feeling the strength in her fingers. ‘A massive bang on the head like the one you got would give anyone nightmares,’ he said comfortingly. ‘They don’t mean anything.’

‘
Don’t they? I dreamt about Sukie.’ She paused. ‘And about Purdey. I dreamt she was impaled on a broken jump. There was blood spouting everywhere.’ A spasm crossed her face. ‘I was drenched in it. It was dripping from my fingertips.’ Involuntarily, she yanked her hands free and held them up, turning them this way and that.

‘
See?’ he said. ‘No blood. And Purdey is absolutely fine. She gave Miss Attwill a hell of a ride this morning.’

‘
A
donkey
would give Miss Attwill a hell of a ride,’ she remarked bitingly. ‘She’s so nervy she spooks the horses.’

‘
Was Sukie a nervy rider?’

Torrance
clasped her hands. ‘She was no real match for Purdey, but she had to try because her family expected big things from her. Purdey cost an awful lot, you see; about five times as much as Tonto.’ She glanced up with darkened eyes. ‘Maybe Sukie expected it of herself, too. She needed something to take pride in. There was nothing left after she and Imogen broke up.’

‘
Do you know why that happened?’

‘
No. I wondered if there was some feud between their parents. They live very near each other.’ She looked at him, frowning. ‘You know, don’t you?’ Once again, her fingers reached for his arm. ‘Tell me!’

‘
I may as well,’ he said, after a moment’s thought. ‘Everyone will know soon, in any case.’ He related the myths that lay behind the tragedy, wincing as her fingers dug ever deeper into his flesh. ‘But before she downed the pills,’ he added, ‘Imogen wrote us a letter, saying
she
was driving, not Sukie. She claims her parents took advantage of Sukie’s amnesia about the crash.’

Torrance
put her hands to her face and moaned, ‘Oh, God!’

‘
Which puts a different complexion on things,’ he went on, ‘if, say, Sukie had suddenly recovered her memory.’

‘
Does it? How?’ Then witheringly, she exclaimed, ‘Hell! You surely don’t think Imogen killed her? No chance!’

‘
Someone did. We’re sure of that now.’ He rubbed the marks her nails had left on his arm. ‘I think she was enticed out of the building, but I don’t know how.’

‘
She’d go like a shot if she thought Purdey was hurt, or in danger,’ Torrance said. ‘But how would she know? You can’t see the paddock from the school.’ She paused.

‘
You could
hear
a horse screaming, but then, everyone would have heard that and I certainly didn’t.’ Her voice dwindled away.

‘
Yes?’ he prompted.

‘
I did hear something,’ she said slowly, ‘but not a horse. I couldn’t sleep and I was looking out the window when a jet plane came over so low it made the trees rustle.’ Her dazed mind was so sluggish it hurt to remember. ‘Then I heard another noise,’ she went on, a faraway look in her eyes, ‘like someone had kicked a stone, you know?’ Her eyes focused. ‘There was someone in the woods, I’m sure, but it was too dark to see them properly.’

‘
But not for them to see you.’ He looked at her, imagining how she must have appeared to the watcher, her hair like a halo in the night, marking her out as the next to die.

13

Long
after Martha went in search of her child, Janet had remained at the water’s edge, absently picking out landmarks along the Anglesey coast but mostly killing time, with little enthusiasm for much beyond an early escape from this enervating place. Eventually she began reluctantly making her way across the lawn back to the school and, rounding the side of the building, circumnavigated the fire escape rather than take the shorter route beneath.

From
the forecourt, she could hear the slam of car doors and the sharp crack of raised voices. She arrived there as Charlotte was being pushed into the rear seat of a squad car, a policeman’s hand heavy on her blonde head. Nancy’s nasty face was pressed to the window of another car. Both cars then roared away with a flourish of spurting gravel, watched in sullen silence by a crowd of girls. Some were Charlotte’s worshipful subjects from the sixth form, some those who hung about Nancy like flies trapped in a spider’s web, but there were many younger ones, whom Janet assumed were the hangers-on and apprentice courtiers. When they noticed her there was a shuffling of feet and swivelling of cold eyes, and she felt their menace as if she faced a pack of wolves. Then, to her enormous relief, Jack appeared.

Taking
her arm, he pulled her out of earshot. ‘Those two are going to the station to be interviewed.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Eh?’ He frowned, then his face cleared. ‘You’re a bit behind, aren’t you? Nancy’s the school bully, Charlotte’s her second-in-command and Sukie was one of their victims. Mr McKenna thinks it’s just possible they bullied her to death.’

‘
I doubt it.’

‘
So do I,’ Jack conceded. He watched the girls still crowded about the entrance, feeling their ugly mood. There was not a teacher in sight and he wondered if they were already gone, like rats deserting a stricken ship. ‘Have another chat with the younger ones,’ he told her. ‘Nancy’s conspicuous absence might loosen a few tongues.’

‘
I doubt that, too,’ she commented.

‘
Watch your step,’ he warned, opening the door of his own car.

Janet
stiffened. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t being impudent.’

Voice
low, he said, ‘I meant, watch your step with that lot. They could get mean.’

She
waited until he had driven off, then purposefully strode towards the phalanx of bodies, nodding here, half-smiling there as she forged a way through. They moved aside to let her pass and immediately closed up behind her, pressing so close she could hear their breath and smell their bodies. To a girl, their faces were hostile, their demeanour intimidating, their deliberate silence terrifying, and the nearer she came to the door, the more slowly and unwillingly they moved out of her way. Any second she expected a stunning blow across her head or neck and, close to panic, imagined herself in a nightmare where the door was forever just beyond reach. Then, miraculously, she stumbled into the chilly gloom of the lobby and slumped against the wall gathering her breath, while her heart thudded in her ears. The girls at the back of the crowd stared in at her.

Suddenly
one half of the double-front door crashed open and Alice, clothes filthy, face mutinous, lurched into the hallway, prodded from behind, like a recalcitrant heifer, by her mother. Martha was clearly furious. She glared at Janet. ‘There are two more of them outside,’ she announced. ‘Grace and Daisy, and Daisy’s in an even bigger mess than this stupid little madam,’ she added, gesturing to her daughter. ‘They’ve been fighting like bloody hooligans!’

‘
What about?’ Janet asked.

‘
God knows!’

Janet
turned to Alice. ‘You’d better get changed,’ she told her.

Alice
met her gaze and, with something like despair in her eyes, made for the stairs as a movement outside distracted Janet’s attention. Daisy, face and arms covered in scratches, hair streaked with mud and sand, was by the door, looking in. Grace tramped up and down behind her, kicking gravel.

Temper
rising, Janet marched to the door. ‘Come in, now,’ she insisted.

‘
Why?’ Daisy demanded.

Janet
dived for her. ‘Because I say so!’ she snapped, grabbing her arm before she could run off. She pulled her in, waited for Grace to follow and shut the door.

‘
They were down by the Strait,’ Martha was saying, ‘even though they know damned well it’s out of bounds.’ Her breath was harsh and fast. ‘You’d think that would be the last place they’d want to go after that poor girl died there, wouldn’t you?’

‘
Yes,’ Janet agreed, watching Daisy’s smirking countenance. ‘Particularly as Daisy reckons Sukie’s ghost is about.’

Grace
blenched and swayed once, eyelids fluttering wildly.

‘
Oh, pack it in!’ Daisy snapped at her. Tittering, she said to Janet, ‘It was a
joke
!
Everyone
knows it was.
She’s
just pretending.’

‘
And
you’re
just plain nasty,’ Janet said coldly.

Daisy
went rigid. She stared at Janet unblinkingly and challengingly, instantly defensive, instantly aggressive.

Martha
was also staring at her. ‘What shall I do with Alice?’ she asked. ‘Can I take her out of school?’

‘
Not until Mr McKenna gives permission,’ Janet replied, her eyes still on Daisy. ‘He’s in the mobile incident room if you want to see him.’

Alice
had left a trail of wet footprints on the stairs and as Daisy ran up she added to the mess. Janet followed her, wary of more mischief, Grace in her wake. When they reached the landing Alice was walking towards them from the dormitory, dirty clothes in a bundle under her arm, her face so pinched it was almost wizened.

Daisy,
her expression unreadable, stopped and seemed to shrink against the wall.

Alice,
drawing level, also halted. ‘I’ll never speak to you again!’ she hissed. ‘
Never
.’

Throwing
back her head, Daisy tried to sneer. ‘Suits me!’ she lisped. ‘Just fine!’ With that, she took off along the corridor.

‘
Your mother’s waiting for you,’ Janet said to Alice. Without looking at her, Alice mumbled something unintelligible and slunk down the stairs.

Grace,
creeping up beside Janet, said, ‘Alice is quite uncouth.’

‘
From where I’m standing,’ Janet replied impatiently, ‘you could
all
do with learning some manners!’

Her
face crumpling, Grace scuttled into the dormitory. She snatched an armful of clothes from her cupboard and rushed back to the door.

‘
Where are you going now?’ Janet demanded.

‘
To the sick bay. Matron said I can go whenever I want.’

‘
Matron’s not around any more,’ Daisy commented, rummaging through the clothes in her own cupboard.

‘F
or heaven’s sake!’ Janet snapped. ‘She can still go if she wants to.’

‘
Did I say she couldn’t?’ Daisy turned, a pair of expensive-looking black trousers in her hands. She glanced at Grace’s locker and called out, ‘You’ve forgotten your precious jewels.’

As
Grace dashed back in and grabbed something off the locker, Daisy said, ‘You daren’t lose those, dare you? They must have cost your holy father all of ten quid.’

Grace
fled.

‘
Why are you so positively hateful to her?’ Janet asked.

‘
Because, for one thing, she’s a snide cow, and for another, she’s a wimp.’ Daisy kicked off her trainers, pulled the T-shirt over her head and stepped out of the dirty jeans, letting the garments lie in a heap on the floor. ‘She was just the same at prep school.’

‘
I didn’t realise you’d known her so long.’

‘
There’s a lot
you
don’t realise,’ Daisy retorted. ‘Like my mother is Grace’s godmother, for instance. And like I’m trying to toughen her up for her own sake. She’s got to survive at least another two years here.’

‘
Is that how you see it? As survival?’

‘
Isn’t it?’ Daisy padded back and forth from the cupboard to the bed, selecting and discarding various items of clothing.

Janet
wondered if she were deliberately displaying her sumptuous body and the fine, hand-stitched lingerie. ‘You’re not getting ready for a night on the town,’ she said. ‘Hurry up.’

Pausing
for a moment, Daisy stared. ‘Did you go to boarding school? You behave as if you did. You’re a real bitch.’

‘
As they say, it takes one to know one. Now, hurry up.’