I turn around and walk back towards her until I’m literally standing on her good foot. ‘Shut up!’ I hiss. ‘Don’t say that! Why would you say that?’
‘Because it’s true.’
‘Okay, that’s it,’ the young man says, picking up his radio. ‘You can’t be holding up the queue like this. I’m getting security.’
I catch Mrs Ashford-Wells narrowing her eyes at us halfway down the line.
‘Fine,’ I say. I dig through my purse, my hands shaking. ‘Fine,’ I repeat, throwing my Visa card on the belt.
The young man picks it up with a roll of the eyes. He inserts it into his machine and hands it to me to enter my pin.
‘And you can make your own way home,’ I snap, snatching my card back. I turn on my heels and get the hell out of there.
24
I rush home and unplug the freezer. I cannot believe I have to plan for adead bodythawingon top of everything else, but here we are.
Then I go to school, and, of course, I am late. In the car, I reply to texts from Mel, one of the other teachers, letting me know she’ll take my class and asking if I’m all right. My hand is shaking, and it takes me five minutes just to type,On my way.
Of course, the children are thrilled. They love Mel. Everybody loves Mel. She’s a dynamo, a ball of energy, with short dark curly hair and a lovely personality.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, running into the classroom and almost colliding with Mel. I drop my handbag on the desk. The children glare at me, clearly annoyed that I’ve interrupted whatever was going on and spoiled their fun.
‘It’s no problem, Kate,’ she says, frowning at me. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Yes. Everything is fine.’
I’m a bundle of nerves. I play songs for the children to sing along to, as if they were two instead of six or seven. Meanwhile, I sit at my desk, biting my bottom lip.
Your stepdaughter, Holly, who doesn’t know how to drive, got behind the wheel of a car and slammed into me.
Who the hell does she think she is? Why would she say such things? And in front of other people? I thought we were fine about the accident, weren’t we? And what’s this business about me having to pay for her shopping, because somehow it’s our fault she doesn’t have any money?
She’s just a grifter, I realise now, my head in my hands. She’s not Max’s lover, so there’s that, I guess. She’s a con artist. I let a con artist into my house. Oh, and she’s good. Very good.
The whole time she was with us, I thought she was wonderful. But really, how well do I know her? I mentally catalogue the facts I’ve learned during those earlier conversations. I know that she’s thirty-two years old and she was married once and she hated her ex-husband. And she worked in a law firm for a while. That’s it.
‘Kate?’
The bell has rung, and the children are packing up their things, squealing and laughing. I have managed to survive the entire afternoon on autopilot without anyone falling out of windows or covering the walls in crayon. Giddy children run out of the class, jostling past Mel who is standing in the doorway.
I pack up my things. ‘Mel, hi. I’m so sorry about before.’
‘Don’t worry about that. It happens to all of us. Mike just left but he asked about you. I believe you were supposed to pop into his office after lunch?’
Great. I forgot. Completely. I mean, I was late, but still, the children were in good hands, Mel was here. I could have swung by his office, apologised for being late and got an update on Mrs Ashford-Wells.
Except my brain was so consumed by Teri that I completely forgot.
‘Sorry about that. I came back late, as you know. It just slipped my mind.’
‘That’s what I told him,’ she says. She knots her eyebrows together and narrows her eyes at me. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, of course. Just, you know…frazzled.’ I smile.
She shrugs. ‘No need to look so worried, Kate. He said to pop in first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘I will. Thank you.’
