The Apartment - K. L. Slater Page 0,24

long way from here.

It’s too far to visit so I will miss you all, especially my best friend, Petra. Enjoy the sweeties!

Love, Skye Miller

‘This is crazy,’ I tell Miss Smith as firmly as I’m able to, crossing my ankles under the small chair to steady my legs. ‘I didn’t send this to class. I haven’t even told Skye she’s leaving this school yet.’

‘That explains her reaction,’ Miss Smith says, watching me carefully.

‘I just can’t imagine how this has happened.’ I listen to myself, realising how terribly thin and unconvincing my voice and words must sound to her.

But it’s true. Literally nobody knows this information. With the exception of Brenna that is, and – I start at the sound of a sharp knock.

The door opens and Tana, Rowan Class’s teaching assistant, steps inside, holding Skye’s hand.

My daughter’s cheeks look swollen and damp, and her usually vivid blue eyes are cast with a dull light.

I jump out of my seat and envelop her in my arms as the two women look on.

‘I’m so sorry this has happened, darling,’ I whisper in my daughter’s ear. ‘I want you to know that Mummy didn’t send the gift basket or the note.’

When she pulls away from me, her eyes wide and tinged with fear, I realise I’ve made a mistake in saying so.

‘But if you didn’t send it, Mummy,’ she says, sniffing back tears, ‘then who did?’

14

Thankfully, by the time I finish talking to Skye’s teacher and we leave the school building, the other parents and children outside the gates have mostly dispersed.

I really don’t fancy bumping into Kat, and having to explain everything to her in front of an already traumatised Skye. No doubt little Petra is really upset too; the pair of them have been inseparable since their first day at nursery school here.

I make a mental note to give Kat a call later.

For once, Skye allows me to carry her Frozen-themed backpack. She usually has to be surgically separated from it, but today she willingly lets go and holds my hand limply.

My mind is full, whirring with disturbing thoughts about the candy delivery and vicious note someone sent to Skye’s class. Whoever did it must have known it would upset Skye, or why bother in the first place?

I’ve racked my brains, and I’m certain the only people who knew I’m planning to move Skye to St Benjamin Monks are the Marsdens and, obviously, Brenna after my impromptu visit for coffee this morning. None of them have reason to upset us like this. The Marsdens have a vested interest in keeping us happy in our move to Adder House, and Brenna is our dear, loyal friend who would detest the thought of Skye being hurt.

The only other possibility is that someone unknown to me has found out about Adder House and wants to cause trouble in some way. Even if it means causing distress to an innocent five-year-old.

Janine Harworth’s mean, pinched features instantly fill my mind. She’s the woman Lewis left us for before he died. Understandably, there is no love lost between us, and I’m sure she’d revel in the upset caused today.

But for Janine to find out such personal information would mean she’d have to have been regularly covertly watching, perhaps even following, me. And I can’t cope with a thought like that, not because it scares me but because it makes me feel so angry and also protective of Skye.

My thoughts gravitate to the figure I thought I saw watching us behind a tree in Kensington Gardens. Could it be . . .

I shake my head free of the awful puzzle. My daughter has to come first right now. ‘Want to play the “count the car colours” game?’ I say brightly as we walk up the road towards the bus stop, hand in hand. ‘I’ll take red ones and you can have your favourite, silver—’

‘No thank you, Mummy,’ she says quietly. ‘I don’t want to play that game today.’

‘Hey, guess what I’ve got us for tea? Pepperoni pizza, your favourite!’

‘I’m . . . not hungry.’ My girl, who is always ravenous after school.

She stares down at her feet as she walks. No skipping ahead or singing her favourite songs today.

Thankfully, we’re only waiting a couple of minutes before the bus arrives. We board and take our seats and still Skye is so subdued, I feel desperate to explain what must have happened to help her make sense of it.

‘It seems someone has played a nasty trick on us, sending that