Killing Rachel (9 page)

‘You know that restaurant owned by the son of Viktor Baranski? In South Kensington? I went to it.’

‘Yeah?’ she said.

Even though Skeggsie was unwell Joshua had still gone.

‘It’s close to South Ken station on the way to the museums. It’s a street which is full of coffee bars and cafes. This restaurant is called Eastern Fare.’

‘Is it a Russian restaurant?’

Joshua was heading off the motorway at a turning marked for Norwich.

‘Not really. It’s got Russian signs everywhere but it just serves coffee and sandwiches and hot lunches. It looks a bit run-down. We had a sandwich and coffee.’

She frowned. ‘I thought you went on your own?’

‘No, someone from uni came with me. That girl you saw last week, Clara.’

Rose stared straight ahead. Clara, the girl with the yellow hair.

‘I did get to talk to Lev Baranski! It was a lot easier than I expected. In the end I just asked him for a job.’

‘A job?’ she said quietly.

‘Yes. I saw this guy at a table at the back of the cafe working at a laptop so I just went up to him and I said,
Excuse me, are you Mr Baranski?
And he looked up and said,
Who wants to know?
I said,
I’m looking for a job as a waiter and someone down the street said I should try here. He thought you might need help. I’m a student and I’m just looking for part-time work
. There was this long silence and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was completely flat, no hint of expression. He was youngish but dressed old, in a suit and tie. He called this other guy over, Mikey. He said,
This lad is looking for a job
. Mikey said, in this heavy Russian accent,
We don’t have jobs now
. Lev then said,
Leave your details with Mikey and we’ll let you know if anything comes up
. So I left a fake name, then me and Clara left.’

Rose had an image of Joshua and Clara leaving the restaurant. Joshua was holding the door open for Clara and she was laughing up at him, both of them thrilled with their little plan. Rose could see Clara’s hair snaking over her shoulders. In her mind it was longer and thicker than before, the kind of hair that could be gathered up into a scrunchie and pinned up on the back of her head. Rose grabbed hold of a strand of her own hair and pulled it along her chin. She turned away and leant her head against the glass.

‘It’s a start, seeing Lev Baranski. I don’t know whether he is important or not but every little bit of information needs to be followed up,’ Joshua said.

‘Um.’

They passed a sign for Mildenhall. She was beginning to recognise the road. She’d done the journey many times with Anna at the beginning and end of each term. There would be a roundabout and they would go off to the second left and go past the Lakenheath Air Base. It was a journey she’d usually done with pleasure, keen to get back to school after spending too much time alone with Anna. The last time she did it, just after Easter, she’d done it with a heavy heart. She was no longer friends with Rachel Bliss and had only dragged herself back to school to sit her GCSEs.

Now she was gloomy because Joshua had a new friend or perhaps even a
girlfriend
. Her feelings for him were muddling up her thoughts.

‘I might just close my eyes for a while. I didn’t sleep that well last night,’ she said, not wanting to talk any more.

‘Use my jacket as a pillow.’

She leant over the back seat and picked up Joshua’s jacket and folded it in half so that it was bulky. She fitted it between her face and the window and closed her eyes. She heard music come on and after a while she heard Joshua singing, quietly.

She didn’t sleep, though; just kept her eyes closed, cross with her reaction to the mention of Clara. With everything else going on how could the existence of this girl make her feel worse? Rachel Bliss was dead. Wasn’t that what she should be thinking about?

They drove for what seemed like a long time. They stopped once at a petrol station and Rose got out to use the toilet. When she came out Joshua was standing by the car with drinks and doughnuts. They ate and drank and then went on their way. The traffic shot past and she saw a sign for King’s Lynn. Soon after that they passed Fakenham and she knew then that it wasn’t far to go. She sat up, making a show of stretching her arms as if she had dropped off to sleep again.

‘Nearly there, Rosie,’ Joshua said chirpily.

‘Where are you staying?’ she said.

‘There’s a pub in Stiffkey. I’ve booked a room for two nights. It’ll give me enough time to scout about, talk to some people.’

But what do you think you’ll achieve? What are you actually looking for? Is there any point following markings on a map that probably have nothing to do with anything?

Rose wanted to say these things but she didn’t.

‘What about you? Where will you sleep?’

‘There are always spare rooms in school. Oh, look. The entrance is a mile or so on. Just drop me at the gates. I’ll walk down the drive myself. I could do with stretching my legs.’

‘I’ll come by after lunch on Sunday, say two, and pick you up.’

‘Pick me up at the same place. Don’t bother to come down to the school.’

‘Why? You ashamed of me?’

‘’Course not,’ she said, as the car pulled over on to the grass verge just before the entrance gates of Mary Linton College.

‘You’ve got your laptop? And your phone? I’ll send you messages. Let you know what I’m doing. You could send me messages as well, tell me what’s happening about your friend’s death.’

She nodded. She opened the passenger door and got out. Joshua did the same. She pulled on her coat and, pushing the seat forward, she leant in to get her rucksack out of the back. When she was standing by the car Joshua came over beside her.

‘Take care,’ he said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

She felt his lips on her skin and closed her eyes for a split second.

Then he was gone and she turned and went through the gates of Mary Linton College, the sound of the Mini pulling away behind her.

TEN

The school building came into view after she’d been walking for about ten minutes. It was the colour of autumn, rust red and stood four storeys high, looking like a large country house. There were newer buildings attached to the side and back but these were mostly veiled with trees. The windows on the three lower floors were imposing, almost floor to ceiling, but on the fourth floor, where some of the sleeping areas were, there were dormer windows.

She glanced over to the right. In the near distance she could see the lake and the boathouse. She quickened her step. Her bag was feeling heavy and although it was a grey cold day she was hot. She stopped for a moment and slipped her coat off, folding it over her arm.

There was hardly anyone around even though it was just before one o’clock. At 1.15 the lunch bell would go and then the place would become busy. She was feeling hungry herself but it would be strange to go into the dining hall again, to queue up with a tray in hand and walk along the counter selecting her lunch. She thought she’d finished with all that. During those last weeks in the school when she’d sat her GCSEs she’d counted the days until she could pack her stuff and go to live in Anna’s house. Standing in front of the salad bar, her eye flicking across the giant bowls of coleslaw, bean salad and lettuce, she’d imagined making a single portion of food for herself. She’d use small pots and pans, chop up tiny bunches of herbs, slice half an onion and a couple of tomatoes. She’d pick up a handful of dried pasta only. Just enough for her; it would be luxurious.

But just now she was hungry and would enjoy some salad and lasagne or quiche, a portion of garlic bread on the side.

She walked through the main school car park and towards the quad, a small area of benches and rose bushes and gravel where students were allowed to sit quietly and talk or read or listen to iPods. She stopped for a second and glanced up at the windows at the very top of the building. At the corner was her old room, Daisy. To the left of it was Rachel’s room, Bluebell.

It was here that Rachel said she’d looked up and seen the face of Juliet Baker in her room. Rose stared at the window for a moment, then she swivelled round and looked in the opposite direction at the line of trees that edged the car park. That was where Rachel had seen the ghost at night, its face bright amid the darkness.

She made a
tsk
sound and carried on. What was it that Rachel had seen? Something real? Or something conjured up out of her own imagination?

Rose walked on. She stepped inside the building and went up to the receptionist. It was someone she didn’t recognise, someone new. She gave her name and the woman looked at a printout and then gave her a visitor’s badge. Ten minutes later Rose had walked up the four flights of stairs and was standing on the landing next to a sign that said
Eliot House
.

The bell went then for lunch recess.

In the distance doors began to open and shut and there was the sound of students moving around on the floors below. There was no talking, just the sound of feet shuffling, stamping, sliding along the wood floors, moving towards the outside of the building where the students would head for the refectory.

She went past the sign for
Eliot House
.

It was part of the fourth floor of the building and it housed the students who were members of the House named after George Eliot. Eliot House students were the only ones who slept and lived in the original school building. It consisted of dormitories and shared and single rooms. It had bathrooms and a shower block and two small kitchens. There was a large common room full of armchairs and beanbags with a big television and table tennis tables.

When Rose was a student in the school she could recognise all of the Eliot House girls and not just because of the small badges they wore. She knew twenty or so to talk to and a couple who were people she spent time with. Her closest friend in four and a half years had been Rachel Bliss.

She walked along the main corridor and was heading for Martha Harewood’s room when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs from behind. She stopped and waited. Amanda Larkin turned on to the corridor and broke into a smile when she saw her.

‘Rose! It’s good to see you. Oh! I’ll bet you’ve come back because of Rachel Bliss? Horrible business.’

Rose nodded. ‘Horrible. She wrote me some letters . . .’

‘Did she?’

‘I brought them to give to the police.’

‘They were here today.’

‘Where’s Molly?’

‘She’s around somewhere.’

‘I was just going to see Martha.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘She is in a real state. She looks as though she’s going to burst into tears every time she comes out of her rooms.’

‘Oh . . .’

Amanda put her hand lightly on Rose’s shoulder.

‘I’m just getting something from my room, then I’m going to lunch. Come with me. See some of the others. Have something to eat. See Martha later.’

‘My bag . . .’ Rose said.

‘Put it in my room. And your coat. You can pick them up at the end of lunch.’

Rose handed over her stuff and allowed herself to be guided down the stairs and out of the building towards the refectory. After saying hello to many girls and after some elbowing and queuing, she found herself sitting at one of the window tables used by the older years. People were looking at her. The girl dressed in black and white among the different shades of green. Since leaving she’d been in touch with some of these girls on Facebook but it had always been general chatter, nothing personal. It was hot and she pushed her sleeve up and the girls closest to her gasped at her deep blue butterfly tattoo. She ignored their looks and concentrated on her plate, tucking into her lasagne and salad. It tasted good and eating it slowly gave her a chance to just sit and listen to the conversation around her. Her presence had sparked off discussions about Rachel Bliss’s death.

‘It was terrible, Rose. I was up early and heard this shouting coming from outside. I looked out of my window. My room’s got a good view of the boating lake. I saw the head groundsman running across the grass shouting.’

‘He discovered her. That must have been a fright! He was going to check the boathouse and saw her floating on the water by the jetty. Face down!’

‘I heard he got into the water and pulled her out.’

‘No, no, it wasn’t him it was one of the gardeners. He was going to try and bring her back to life.’

‘Mouth to mouth. You know when they breathe into someone’s lungs? Resuscitation?’

‘People have lived in water for hours. Oh my God, I’ve seen it. Their body closes down. It was on a TV programme. You could be dead for hours, then they can bring you back to life.’

‘Don’t be pathetic!’

‘Anyway, he pulled her out and tried to save her life but it didn’t work.’