about her. As Mark Twain so rightly said, “Truth is the most valuable thing we have.” You know, it was a good thing you didn’t come in that day. Or you know—’ She threw her hands up in the air dramatically. ‘You could have been blown to smithereens like poor Tessa.’
‘Mason! For God’s sake.’
‘And you know little Anita Stuart is missing too.’
‘Is she?’ I was shocked by the news. I thought of her surly little face the day before Tessa died; her foot thrust against my door to prevent me shutting her out. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Suspected dead,’ Mason’s voice dropped to an almost gleeful whisper as she pulled her poncho on. ‘I’m going to get caffeine. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to catch up on. Can I interest you?’
I looked back at the date of the accident, Friday 14th July. I wasn’t down to work, but I had been on my way in to the Academy. Fear crept up my gullet.
‘You look terribly peaky, you know, darling.’ Mason was gazing at my face. ‘What’s happened to your poor cheek?’
‘Just a scratch.’ I pushed my hand through my hair, thinking desperately. ‘I’m fine. Have you got the key to the changing room, please, Mason? I’ve forgotten mine.’
Grumbling slightly, she unzipped her bag and dug around for the keys. ‘Put them back in my drawer.’
I waited until she was out of sight down the corridor and then I let myself into the changing room. My hands were slightly shaking as I fumbled in my pocket for the key to Tessa’s locker I’d just pinched from the board in the office, fuelled by some kind of desperate hope that there would be some clue to my ill feeling about Friday.
But someone had got there before me. The small metal door was hanging off and the locker was empty, though I ran my hand round it anyway to check.
There was a sudden noise, and I jumped, banging my head on the metal corner.
Mason stood behind me.
‘God you scared me.’ I felt like a naughty schoolgirl.
‘I forgot my purse. What are you doing?’ she said curiously.
‘I – I lent Tessa a book. I just wanted – I just thought I’d get it now. As I was here.’
‘Oh.’ Mason cocked her head again. ‘I see. Well, you’re too late, I’m afraid. Police took everything, actually.’
I pushed the door half-shut. ‘Right.’ I wished I’d stop feeling guilty. ‘Well, never mind.’
Mason kept staring at me until I felt shifty. I began to follow her towards the office – and then suddenly I saw Tessa in front of me last Thursday, telling me she’d lost her key. Tessa’s kitbag was in my locker, wasn’t it? How the key came now to be on the office board, I didn’t know. But whatever the reason, she had shoved her stuff in with mine on Thursday. I didn’t remember her having retrieved it again.
I stopped walking. Mason turned round and stared at me. In the outer office, the phone in her bag began to ring. She hesitated.
‘It might be your next date,’ I suggested helpfully. Mason’s love-life was the stuff of legend; three on-line dates a week in the search of true love, trying to forget her feelings for Eduardo, who was absolutely gay. ‘You don’t want to miss it.’
‘Might be,’ she turned to retrieve it. Heart thumping, I whipped my own locker open and pulled Tessa’s half-empty bag out of it, shoving it as best I could into my own bag. I shut the door, heading through the office. Mason was now deep in rapt conversation.
‘See you,’ I mouthed at her, leaving the keys on her desk, and started down the corridor.
‘Wait—’ she hung up the phone. ‘You’re not going to believe this.’
‘What?’
‘That was Eduardo. He’s been with the Governors today. He’s having absolute kittens.’
‘Why?’
She was stringing her news out deliberately now.
‘Someone from the board read Tessa’s obituary, and called her family in Australia to pass on condolences.’ Her whole face shaped into a moue of astonishment.
‘So?’
‘They were astounded.’ Now Mason was blazing with something like triumph. ‘Her family, well – they saw Tessa this morning in Melbourne.’
WEDNESDAY 19TH JULY SILVER
Joe Silver was calculating exactly how soon he could leave Julie’s without mortally offending her – although as he’d finally realised he’d happily never see her again, perhaps it didn’t matter if he did. He’d swung by for a coffee and a nightcap, which when you don’t drink alcohol, really did mean coffee. It had taken him approximately eleven minutes