The Mistress - Jill Childs Page 0,70

hair scattered. I lifted the stray leg and placed it gently back under the covers, then tucked it around her. She stirred and muttered.

‘It’s all right, sweetheart. Only Mummy. Off to sleep now.’

My own bed was cold. I curled in a ball, hunched on my side of the mattress as if Ralph were still there beside me, filling the rest.

I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep, thinking about Megan and the man who’d preyed on her. She’d clearly been through Hell, weighed down by guilt for something that wasn’t her fault.

I got out of bed, padded to the window and drew back a curtain just enough to peer out at the street. The saloon car had disappeared again. I frowned, uneasy.

Why had Mike Ridge made a point of following Megan? Why had he asked her so many questions about the night Ralph disappeared?

Forty-Four

Miss Abbott was the one who asked me to go.

I’d been in the school library, listening to children read, and had just reached the end of my session. I packed up, put the remaining reading diaries into alphabetical order, as I always did before I handed them back, and put on my coat.

Miss Abbott must have been waiting for me. ‘Could I have a word, Mrs Wilson?’

My insides contracted as if I were a naughty schoolgirl being called to the teacher’s office. I followed her back along the corridor, carrying the tray of diaries with me, and to her tiny office. She reached past me and managed to close the door.

‘Is Anna okay?’

She waved away my anxiety. ‘She’s fine. It’s not about Anna, it’s about Miss Dixon.’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘Miss Dixon?’

Miss Abbott looked past me at some meaningless spot on the closed door. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, really I am, but I went to see her at the weekend and she was in a poor way. She made me promise to pass on a message to you and I said I would. She was very insistent. I hope you understand.’

My arms, supporting the plastic tray, stiffened. I couldn’t imagine any message from Miss Dixon that I’d be pleased to receive.

Miss Abbott carried on addressing the door. ‘She wants you to visit her. At home.’

My face must have betrayed me. ‘I’m afraid I’m terribly busy, Miss Abbott. You can imagine. I’m on my own now and—’

She raised a hand to arrest me in mid-flow. ‘Of course. I quite understand. I did say as much to Miss Dixon. And believe me, I wouldn’t be passing on her request at all if I weren’t so concerned about her.’

Miss Abbott gestured to the chair which was crammed into the narrow space on my side of the room and edged around her desk to reach her own chair on the far side.

I hesitated. I didn’t want to sit down. I wanted to get away from school and head to the supermarket before I was due back at the school gates to collect Anna and Clara. It was absurd, this game of sardines in Miss Abbott’s cupboard of an office but the sooner it was over, the better. I sighed, set the reading diaries down on the top of her desk and manoeuvred myself into the chair.

‘She’s very unwell, Mrs Wilson.’ Miss Abbott leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘I know I can tell you this in strictest confidence. They’re trying various medications to work out what’s right for her but she’s so agitated. She seems to have suffered some sort of breakdown.’

She hesitated, as if deciding how much more to tell me.

I said, ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Abbott, but I really can’t see why—’

‘Let me explain. I don’t know how best to say this… I know it’s painful.’ She took a deep breath. ‘While I was there, she kept talking about Mr Wilson. She seemed obsessed by something she saw. She says she can’t rest unless she talks to you about it.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘It sounds as if she needs professional—’

‘I know! I know exactly what you mean. I agree. She seems very unwell. Mentally. And of course, you’re under no obligation. None at all. But she made me promise to pass on her message and I have. That’s all.’

I shook my head. ‘It’s very sad.’

‘Extremely.’

We both got to our feet.

Miss Abbott drew a slip of paper from the pile on her desk and handed it to me.

‘This is her address and phone number. Just in case. She rarely leaves home at the moment. And I didn’t