‘That’s right.’ I try to think. I so don’t need this right now. ‘I could come to you,’ I say.
‘You’re well enough to do that?’
‘Yes. I’m much better.’
She reels off the address. It’s a ten-minute walk from here.
‘Do I need to be scared?’ I ask.
She takes a beat. ‘You tell me.’
‘Come in, Kate.’ A woman I have never met grabs my arm and pulls me inside. We stand in a gorgeous living room with washed-out red walls and a white ceiling with exposed beams. The white and blue furniture looks comfortable and bright. The walls are covered with art, books piled on top of tables, photographs in various frames on shelves and green plants everywhere. The effect is chaotic yet artistic and warm, and for a crazy moment I wish it were my house. Actually, I wish it were my life.
Mel takes my arm. ‘Come and sit. This is Georgie, by the way.’
Georgie has curly red hair in a ponytail. She presses a mug of hot tea into my hands.
‘I added just a little sugar. I’ll leave you to it,’ she whispers, before leaving the room.
‘Come. Sit down,’ Mel says, pointing to the sofa. She takes the armchair. I do as I’m told, but I’m aware of a certain coolness coming from Mel.
‘So, what’s going on?’ I ask.
She raises a hand. ‘First things first. The post is down, okay? I just had confirmation from Julia Johnson.’
‘I really need to know what was in it, Mel. The suspense is literally killing me.’
She grabs her phone from the coffee table and hands it to me. It’s a screenshot of the post Diana Ashford-Wells put up.
You will not believe this, but Brookford Park Primary School teacher Kate Price emailed me to tell me to ‘butt out’ because she’s going through a lot. That’s right, butt out. Apparently, her husband has left her and her stepdaughter is a criminal in the making. That’s right. She’s stealing cars and has even caused an accident, even though she’s too young to drive. She then goes on to call my son ‘spoilt’ and ‘a brat’. Mrs Price is apparently ‘fed up’ with it all and is moving to Hull, where she has been applying for jobs. Mrs Price then ends with ‘I can’t wait to see the back of you all’.
Well, Mrs Price, guess what? We can’t wait to see the back of you either. But my question to Brookford Park Primary School is this: What’s the point of pretending to care about our children if their teacher won’t be there for much longer? And good riddance, by the way. She won’t be missed.
I swallow a swell of rising panic while handing the phone back. I put my mug on the coffee table and press the heels of my hands against my eyes until I see stars.
‘Did you send this to her?’ she asks.
I snort a laugh. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then why is she saying?—’
‘I don’t know, okay? I have no idea.’
‘Look,’ Mel says softly after a beat. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s terrible what Mrs Ashford-Wells has done. Whatever is going on with your husband or Holly?—’
‘There’s nothing going on,’ I blurt.
‘It’s none of my business. It’s nobody’s business. Julia Johnson agrees and took it down. But I have to ask. Are you leaving? And if so, when? We’re not even three months into the school year and?—’
But I’m only listening with half an ear. All I can think is,it’sher. It can only be her. Teri, Beatrice, whatever her name is, who told Diana.
Her husband has left her.I think of all those texts and messages lighting up his phone. Why would she even say that? Because he’s gone? Because he didn’t come home at the weekend? So what? And to tell Diana? How do they even know each other? And to tell her about Holly and the accident? What is Teri trying to do?
Get rid of me. This is her way of saying, ‘If you don’t leave, I will tell the cops about what Holly did.’
She really wants Max that badly.
‘I don’t think many people saw this before it was taken down, okay?’ Mel says.
