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My mouth falls open. ‘I can’t go in now. Someone will see me. The canteen staff.’
‘You have to try, Frances. We’ve got—’ she checks her watch ‘—ten minutes, at most fifteen. Quick.’ She pulls me off the edge of the fountain and I stumble forward.
I run over to the car. ‘Lydia, Mina, can you walk back to our house?’
‘What the hell is going on? What happened?’ asks Lydia.
‘I don’t have time to explain. Miss Smith attacked Tristan. The police are coming. My mother thinks it would be best for you to go back to ours now.’
Their mouths drop open at the same time.
‘I’ll catch up with you.’
‘Miss Smith attacked your brother? Miss Smith?’ says Lydia.
‘It’s like an hour’s walk,’ says Mina. ‘Why do we have to go? And why can’t you come with us now?’
My mind races. ‘Look, I think my mum thinks it’ll be too complicated with everyone here when the police come. But I have to go get something from Tristan’s locker.’
Mina and Lydia look at each other.
‘Miss Smith attacked Tristan?’ says Lydia.
I nod.
‘Right, okay,’ says Mina, scooting over. I stand back so she can climb out of the car.
Lydia stays where she is. ‘But why do we have to leave before they get here?’
I shake my head. ‘It’s easier if you weren’t here. They’re going to have so many questions and it’s just easier if we deal with it and you don’t have to get involved.’
‘I don’t under?—’
‘I don’t have time to explain, please, just go.’
Lydia frowns.
‘Come on, Spanish,’ says Mina. ‘Princess and Don are our best friends.’
Lydia shrugs, confused, but she climbs out. I want to tell them to try not to be seen, but I can see from the look in Mina’s eye that she gets it. We give each other grim smiles before Mina and Lydia jog off. We feel important.
‘Quick,’ hisses my mother, and I run towards the school. At the doors I look back, and for a moment, Tristan’s gaze and mine connect, and I see the truth, and then I blink and it’s gone.
The hall is empty, but I can hear voices far off, chairs being stacked – the cooks cleaning the canteen. Footsteps. I hide in a doorway as someone walks across the top of the stairs. I wait till they’re gone and then run up and along the corridor. I hook round the corner. Miss Smith’s classroom is at the end, on the right.
I’m sure I catch sight of someone disappearing down the back stairs, someone tall and slim, and I hide in another doorway, my skin tingling. Then I step out and walk up to Miss Smith’s classroom.
I remember putting my hand on the shiny brass of the fingerplate, just below the window, taking a deep breath, and then nothing.
55
NOW
‘Nothing?’ says the policeman.
‘I don’t remember anything from then until I was back out, in the woods.’
‘You had the tape?’
