‘Because I knew you’d all think the worst.’
‘We’re only thinking the worst because you’ve made it seem as if you had something to hide.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. I wish I’d done things differently. But right now, I’ve got more important things to think about. Imogen, for a start.’
I take a breath. ‘Speaking of Imogen, I saw her leaving the Academy this morning when she was meant to be in lessons. So I followed her.’
‘Where to? The shop that sells rope?’ she says bitterly.
‘No, to somewhere out Brixton way.’ It’s not that her sarcasm is lost on me, but I’m in a hurry to tell my story.
Kendall gives me a reckoning look. ‘Isn’t that kinda breaking the law—you know, following a pupil?’
‘Probably. But it’s just as well I did. You’ll never guess, Kendall—she went to this grotty area, full of druggies—I was nearly attacked, but I just thought of Carolyn and swore at them—and she went to this house and this awful man opened the door and Imogen kissed him!’
Kendall shrugs. ‘So she’s got a boyfriend. But I agree, she shouldn’t be sneaking off to see him during school hours.’
‘You’re missing the point! For a start, he’s much older than she is; he must be at least thirty. And . . .’ I take a quick look around me and lower my voice. ‘I think he’s dealing drugs.’
‘Dealing drugs?’
It’s not the first time I wish someone had taught Kendall how to whisper.
‘Yes. But keep your voice down.’
‘Why do you think he’s a drug dealer?’ she hisses.
‘Because he looks like one! And then this dodgy-looking guy came along, he was definitely on drugs, and he went into the house. It was awful, Kendall. I knew I couldn’t leave without speaking to Imogen so I went and knocked on the door. Her boyfriend opened it and it was really strange—when I asked to speak to Imogen, he thought I was asking to buy drugs. He actually thought Imogen was the name of a drug!’
‘He was having you on,’ Kendall says, looking amused.
‘No, that’s just it, he wasn’t. It was as if he’d never heard the word “Imogen” before.’
Kendall is silent for a moment and I give her time to come up with an explanation.
‘Did Elise say anything to you about her trip to the States?’ she says.
I stare at her. ‘Kendall, did you hear a word I said? I think Imogen’s boyfriend might be using her as a way of getting drugs into the Academy!’
‘Then you need to speak to Adam about it.’
‘I’m going to. I just wanted to see what you thought first.’
‘Me?’ She gives me a tight smile. ‘Oh, I don’t know anything anymore. I have no idea what anyone is up to.’
I open my mouth to tell her that she should be taking what I’ve told her more seriously, and realize how unhappy she looks. ‘Is something the matter?’ I ask.
She toys with her coffee cup. ‘I just wish Elise hadn’t looked Greg up.’
‘Because everyone knows about Vee now?’
‘No. Because I don’t know what went on between them.’
I can feel myself frowning. ‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?’
‘You know that Elise and Nick have an open marriage, right?’
‘But even so!’ She stares mutely at her coffee. ‘Have you asked Greg?’
‘He says they had a drink together.’
‘And you don’t believe him?’
‘I don’t know what to believe.’
Neither do we, Kendall, I think. Neither do we.
I don’t stay long with Kendall because she’s more preoccupied by the possibility that Elise slept with her husband than the possibility of drugs at the Academy. I can’t blame her; if it were Carl I’d feel exactly the same. Not that Carl would ever look at Elise—although, if he ever finds out what I’ve been up to, he might end up looking elsewhere. My only comfort is that Carl isn’t sophisticated enough for Elise, so there’s no danger there.
Danger is everywhere else, though. On impulse, I take out my phone and call Carolyn.
‘Hi, Bronnie,’ she says cheerfully.
‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
‘No, it’s fine. What’s up?’
‘I was just wondering if the police have made any progress in finding who ran you off the road yesterday.’
‘Well, they’ve managed to trace the vehicle, but it was a hire car, so they don’t have a name yet. But what they do have is a photo taken by a speed camera just after. It was a woman.’
‘A woman?’
‘Yes. The image is too grainy to see her face clearly but guess what—she has long blond hair!’ She sounds triumphant.
‘Well, at least that’s something to go on,’ I say.
‘Bronnie, you’re not getting it. Long blond hair—who do we know who has long blond hair?’
‘Um—’
‘Imogen!’
‘What—you think it was Imogen who tried to run you off the road?’
‘Why not? We’ve already established that she’s crazy.’
‘But why? And anyway, can she even drive?’
‘She’s seventeen, isn’t she? I don’t know who’s worse, Ruby or Imogen. They’re both bloody dangerous, if you ask me.’
‘Have you told Adam?’
‘Not yet, the police only just phoned Elise so I’m going to wait until they have a name for the person who hired the car. Without it, Asshole Adam will only say I’m jumping to conclusions, that I have it in for Imogen, blah, blah. But I’m going to get that little bitch, Bronnie, one way or another.’
By the time I get to the Academy, it’s gone three. I head straight for Adam’s office, hoping he’s not going to bawl me out for being absent most of the day.
He’s not there so I go to look for him. As I walk toward the staff room, my eye is caught by a large notice pinned to the board in the central hall announcing: And the winner is . . . WEST SIDE STORY!!!
I hurry over, my heart racing. If Jess has the lead role, it won’t matter that Adam didn’t choose My Fair Lady. Carolyn will still be horribly smug. Please don’t let Jess be Maria, I pray. I look at the cast list, and my mouth drops open. It’s Bel! Bel has got the part of Maria! I feel a rush of happiness, followed by a surge of triumph that all the hard work has paid off. I’m dying to phone Carl, but it’s Bel’s news to tell, not mine.
I look quickly down the list and see that Sadie is Bel’s understudy, not Jess or Ruby. In fact, neither Jess nor Ruby has a major role, as the role of Anita has been given to Imogen. I frown, wondering at Adam’s motivation. Is he using the fact that Jess’s song at the revue was cut short, and Ruby didn’t get to sing at all, as an excuse to exclude them? I hate what’s going through my mind. It feels disloyal to Bel. But what if she only got the role of Maria because Ruby and Jess were out of the running? I know the awarding of roles isn’t dependent on how the students performed at the revue, but I can imagine certain people seeing it that way. Or—even worse—what if Adam has given Bel the role as a thank you to me?
‘No need to look so glum, Bronnie!’ Adam’s voice comes cheerily down the corridor, and I can’t work out whether it’s better that he’s in a good mood, considering what I’ve got to tell him about Imogen. ‘Anybody would think you weren’t pleased that Bel will be playing Maria.’
‘Of course I’m pleased, it’s wonderful!’ I wait until he’s standing close to me, then plunge straight in. ‘It’s just that I wouldn’t like her to have got the role because of—well, you know,’ I say, my voice low.
‘That’s absolutely not the case,’ he says firmly. ‘You know as well as I do that Bel will be outstanding as Maria.’
‘But as Jess and Ruby didn’t get to audition properly, maybe they should audition again.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’ He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘You worry too much, Bronnie. I know Jess and Ruby will be disappointed, and I imagine Jess’s mum i
s going to have something to say about it. But I awarded the roles to the students who I know will do them justice—and who should be rewarded for their good behavior.’
Now I’m wondering if he left Ruby out as punishment for her bullying and left Jess out to punish Carolyn for hers. I feel the beginnings of a headache and wish I could postpone speaking to him about Imogen.
‘Actually, Bronnie, there’s something I want to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?’
‘Of course,’ I say, my heart starting to beat faster.
I follow him to his office, steeling myself. He waits until I’m sitting on the other side of his desk.
‘Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get to the bottom of that nasty business with the noose,’ he says, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief that it’s only that he wants to talk to me about. ‘Now, I know I’ve already asked you, but are you quite sure you didn’t see anyone in the dressing room during the revue?’
‘I’m positive,’ I say, realizing that my life would be a whole lot easier if I could point my finger at someone.
‘You know the students better than I do,’ Adam goes on. ‘Do you think Ruby could have put it there herself?’
‘I suppose,’ I say reluctantly.
He strokes his chin. ‘What about the graffiti on the bench? If I remember rightly, you said you left the school around five o’clock. Did you see anyone hanging around the inner courtyard?’
‘No.’
‘And you didn’t see any graffiti on the bench?’
‘No.’
‘So it’s possible that Ruby sprayed the bench herself?’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘We know she’s a little disturbed, because of her behavior last year. It wouldn’t have been difficult for her to take a can of spray paint from the store cupboard and graffiti the bench. As you just confirmed, there was no one hanging around the inner courtyard at five o’clock because school finished at four thirty. Theoretically, Ruby could have sprayed the words on the bench herself—there was no one around to see her do it—and then screamed blue murder when you and Bel turned up.’
‘Except that she was already hysterical when we arrived,’ I say, wondering why he’s so desperate for Ruby to be the culprit.
‘Exactly!’ he says triumphantly.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Ruby said that the graffiti was on the bench when she arrived at five o’clock.’
‘That’s right.’
‘And she was still crying about it thirty minutes later? It doesn’t add up. Why sit there crying for thirty minutes instead of going to tell someone about it? I was in my office, she could have come to me.’
What Adam needs, I think grimly, are a couple of children. Then he might understand how it’s possible for a teenage girl to cry solidly for thirty minutes over a bullying incident and not tell her headmaster about it, a headmaster who she knows considers her a troublemaker. Then I remember that he did have a child, and hate myself for forgetting.
‘What about Imogen?’ I ask.
He frowns. ‘Imogen?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, as Jess’s mum pointed out, all these things started happening the day she arrived.’ I look at him meaningfully. ‘How much do we really know about her?’
‘As much as we know about any other student.’ He looks down at a letter on his desk in an I’m-not-talking-about-this-anymore kind of way.
‘We don’t, not really. There’s something you should know, Adam. I saw Imogen leaving school today, so I followed her.’
His head snaps up. ‘What do you mean, you followed her? Where to?’
‘To what I presumed was her grandmother’s house. She told me she was living with them and that they were in ill health, so I thought there must be an emergency for her to leave school without authorization.’ I expect him to pounce and tell me that he authorized her absence, but he doesn’t. ‘Except that a man answered the door, a man too young to be her grandfather—or her father, for that matter.’ He waits for me to go on. ‘It was obvious from the way they were behaving that he was her boyfriend.’
‘So Imogen has a boyfriend,’ he says, shrugging. ‘I’m sure lots of our students do.’
‘Yes, but he’s a good ten years older than her, maybe more. It’s not just that, though. I think he’s a drug dealer.’
‘You think?’
‘I know.’
‘How?’
‘Because when I went to the door and asked to speak to Imogen, he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about and said that if I didn’t want what he was selling, I should piss off.’
‘That doesn’t mean he was selling drugs. It could have been televisions, mobiles—anything.’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘He’s a drug dealer, I know it.’ I look him straight in the eye. ‘Why are you so reluctant to believe it? Imogen could be in danger!’
His face darkens and I’m glad that I’ve finally got through to him. ‘I could have you sanctioned for this, Bronnie.’
My mouth drops open. ‘For being concerned about the welfare of a student? If you’d seen the man she was kissing on the doorstep, I think you’d have been worried too!’
I don’t know who’s more surprised at my tone, me or him.
‘Nevertheless, it could be seen as stalking.’
‘Not if I only followed her once.’ He looks at me, daring me to go on answering him back, and for a moment, I hold his gaze. But then I drop my eyes.
‘I thought I should mention it, that’s all.’
‘And now you have.’ He gives me a quick smile to take the sting from his words. ‘Leave it with me, Bronnie, I’ll take care of it. And don’t forget to see if you can find any claimants for the lost property,’ he adds, reminding me of my place. ‘Some of the students are on a break now. Why don’t you take the basket round?’
I leave Adam’s office, worry stabbing away at me. It was stupid of me to antagonize him like that. If he wanted to, he could make my life very difficult.
I find the lost property basket and make my way to the inner courtyard. A couple of boys pick out sweatshirts and another takes a pair of filthy trainers that I’m glad to see the back of.
‘My leggings!’ Ruby says in delight, dragging a pair from the basket.
Jess peers in. ‘My bra!’ She waves it around in triumph and I wonder how, at the time, she hadn’t noticed she hadn’t put it on, given the size of her breasts.
‘What about you, Imogen, anything in here that belongs to you?’ I say, trying to keep my voice even because I’m finding it hard to look at her, given what I’ve learned about her. She stares back at me with her unblinking blue eyes, as if she’s weighing me up, making me wonder if her boyfriend told her about the woman who called looking for ‘Imogen’ and she’s put two and two together. ‘Hurry up,’ I say, shaking the basket at her. ‘I haven’t got all day.’
She takes her time rifling through the stuff and eventually finds a leg warmer. I’m about to move on to the next group of students when she quickly takes a hairbrush that’s now lying at the top of the basket and hides it under the leg warmer, as if she doesn’t want anyone to see it. But I’m past wondering about her bizarre behavior. I’m more worried about her drug-dealing boyfriend.
The bell rings, putting an end to my effort to get rid of the lost property. I dump the basket in the staff room, deciding it will be more effective to stand at the gates later on and catch the students as they’re leaving. Desperate for some peace and quiet, I hurry to my workroom. I’m almost there when I hear the sound of raised voices coming from the dressing room next door.
‘Do you really think I would have jeopardized my own audition, you stupid fucktard?’ Ruby is yelling. ‘Bel, tell them! Your mum was backstage, she would have seen me if I’d put the noose there myself, right?’
‘Who are you calling a fucktard?’ Jess’s voice rings out.
‘Her!’ Ruby’s v
oice trembles with rage. ‘That fucking weirdo over there! Come on, admit it, bitch from hell! You’re the one doing everything, not me!’
There’s the sound of scuffling, followed by a cry of pain from Imogen. I burst into the dressing room and see a tangle of arms and legs, some of which belong to Bel.
‘Oh my goodness!’ I cry. ‘Girls! GIRLS!’
Bel turns and to my relief I see that she and Sadie aren’t fighting but trying to pull an out-of-control Ruby off Imogen, who is cowering on one of the benches, sobbing in great gulps. I rush toward them. ‘What on earth is going on?’ I say, wedging myself between them. ‘Ruby, that’s enough! RUBY!’
Ruby looks at me, her face white with anger. ‘She’s a lying bitch! She’s trying to make out that I’m responsible for the noose and for pushing her down the stairs!’
‘You did push me down the stairs!’
Ruby bursts into tears. ‘I hate her! She’s been sending me notes—’ She’s crying so much she can’t go on.
‘What notes?’ I ask, trying to make her sit down.
‘Why don’t you ask her?’ she rages. ‘She’s crazy!’
‘Pot kettle black,’ Jess murmurs.
‘See!’ Imogen says triumphantly. ‘Even your friends think you’re mad!’
Ruby whips round but none of her friends will meet her eye, not even Bel.
‘Fucking bitch! Fucking lying bitch!’ Ruby breaks free of me and lunges at Imogen. ‘What about you, what about the lies you’ve told, about your father dying when all along he’s alive and well! And you self-harm, do you? Well’—Ruby is beside herself with rage—‘I DON’T BELIEVE A WORD OF IT!’ Before I can grab hold of her, she reaches out and rips the plaster from Imogen’s arm.
‘Ruby!’ I say. But I’m staring not at a wound but at the tattoo that was hidden by the plaster—Sky above me, earth below me, fire within me.
‘Ow!’ Imogen shrieks, covering it quickly with her hand as the others rush over. But Jess pulls her hand away, and, with a cry of rage, Imogen shoves her aside and runs from the dressing room.
‘See?’ Jess says triumphantly. ‘Mum was right. She said Imogen self-harming was a load of bullshit.’
The Understudy Page 18
