Turn a Blind Eye. Vicky Newham

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СКАЧАТЬ feeling the staff liked her.’ Rowe took a swig from the mug in front of him. ‘Is Mrs Gibson . . .?’ His words petered out and he swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry. I’m shattered. I got about an hour’s sleep last night and had a couple more drinks than I intended. I keep seeing her eyes. Bulging. And her face was all swollen. She’s dead, isn’t she?’ The words came out in a splutter.

      ‘We can’t say at the moment, I’m afraid. There has been a very serious incident. You’ve had a nasty shock. Have you got someone at home this evening to look after you?’

      ‘I’m staying with my sister. She should be home after work.’ His complexion looked pale and clammy.

      ‘You might want to lay off the drink this evening.’

      It would’ve been easy for this to sound patronising but it didn’t. And it was true: he looked dreadful.

      Rowe blushed. Glanced at Dan in embarrassment. ‘I’m sure I come across as a right numpty, getting drunk the night before starting a new job.’ He paused, as if he was thinking about what to say. ‘I’ve just got back from visiting my fiancée in New York – she dumped me. My own stupid fault.’ His voice trembled and his hands were shaking.

      Dan felt sorry for him. It had seemed odd to turn up for a new job with a hangover.

      ‘We all make mistakes,’ Maya said, then shifted gear. ‘Was it you who vomited — ?’

      ‘Ugh.’ Rowe covered his eyes. ‘Yes. Sorry.’

      ‘When you went to fetch Mrs Gibson, did you see anyone?’

      ‘No. I walked from the staffroom and along the main corridor. There was no sign of anybody.’

      ‘After you found Mrs Gibson, what did you do?’

      ‘I went straight back to the staffroom and told Mrs Ahmed.’

      Maya’s phone vibrated. She indicated to Dan to take over the interview and shifted towards the door, reading the message and watching the teacher from the corner of her eye.

      Dan moved over and sat in the chair in front of the desk. ‘Going back slightly,’ he said, ‘did you think Mrs Gibson was dead?’

      Rowe nodded. ‘She felt warm. Sort of soft. But she didn’t move. I thought dead bodies went stiff?’ He shivered in his seat, the unpleasant memory beckoning to him. ‘It was the expression in her eyes. Staring.’ He covered his mouth, shaking his head. ‘Why would someone bind her wrists?’

      ‘That’s what we need to find out.’

      Maya tucked her mobile in her pocket and hurried back over to the desk. She lowered her voice. ‘We need to get back to the incident room. Urgently.’ She faced Rowe. ‘A uniformed officer will escort you back to the staffroom. All personnel are required to stay on site. Please let us know if you remember anything else you think could help.’

      ‘I will.’

      Back in the corridor, Maya filled Dan in. ‘The deputy head, Roger Allen, called in sick this morning. Now no-one can get hold of him. Not even his wife.’

Wednesday – Steve

      The staffroom atmosphere was completely different when Steve arrived back. The heating was working and everyone had shed their scarves, jumpers and coats. They sat in huddles, wide-eyed and dazed. As he walked in, was he imagining it, or were there a few nudges and stares? Steve scanned the room for somewhere to sit down. Despite the heat, he was still shivering and felt light-headed. The sense of Linda’s body kept coming back to him: her softness beneath him; the smell of her skin; her hair in his mouth… how he’d thrown up over her.

      He spotted a chair by the window, slunk over and slumped down on it, relieved to be out of the deputy head’s office and among other human beings, even if he didn’t know any of them yet. He wanted to reflect on the police interview. He’d burbled about Lucy. How embarrassing. Otherwise he thought it had gone okay but he wasn’t sure. Was he a suspect? After all, he had found the body.

      Near the door, a woman was firing out questions, repeating them hysterically to anyone who was in the vicinity. ‘Why is no-one telling us anything? Is Mrs Gibson dead’ Her voice trilled out. ‘Has she had a heart attack? Oh my God, she hasn’t been murdered, has she?’

      Her voice grated. Steve felt like snapping at her to shut the fuck up. But this was a new job. He had to be on his best behaviour. Having a row with a colleague on the first day was not the way to go.

      Steve could hear the two people nearest to her doing their best to calm the woman down, while a couple of other staff members stared, panicked into inertia and silence. It was as if they had all been plunged into an existence that was cut off from this morning. Set adrift into a new reality that none of them could quite accept.

      Then the woman blurted out, ‘He must know.’ She pointed at Steve. ‘He found her, didn’t he?’

      Steve’s stomach did a somersault.

      ‘Is she dead?’ the woman asked in his direction, staring at him expectantly.

      Shit. What should he say? The police had told him not to discuss what happened. He looked away, tried to tune out, and a few of the people nearby shushed her.

      His thoughts drifted to Lucy and he wondered how she’d felt after she’d seen him off at the airport. And over the next day. Perhaps she would forgive him if he gave her time? He’d just have to be patient. Except he’d been patient over the last few months and it hadn’t made any difference. Cheating was the one thing she’d told him she’d never accept in a relationship. And his stupid pride had got in the way. When she’d told him she wanted to go back home to America, he’d reacted childishly. And now he had to suck up the consequences.

      Someone coughed and cleared their throat. Neil Sanderson, the school bursar, was standing at the counter by the kitchen area. He wiped his forehead with his palm. ‘Could you gather round, folks, please?’ His cheeks were mottled, and patches of sweat stained the armpits of his mauve shirt.

      Mutterings flew round the room, some of complaint, others of curiosity and dread.

      Neil adjusted the rimless glasses on his nose. ‘As you all know, there’s been a serious incident involving Mrs Gibson. At the moment the police aren’t giving out much information. They have a number of teams here carrying out forensic work. We don’t know yet whether the school site will be closed tomorrow, but there will be no lessons or students in school.’ He reached over to the counter and took a swig of water from a plastic cup.

      A few people put their hands up and he gestured them down. He checked his notes. ‘Mrs Ahmed and I have been liaising with the police, the LEA and our governors, and we’ve produced a . . . a . . .’ He looked round for Shari.

      ‘Media and community strategy,’ she prompted.

      ‘Yes. With a close community such as ours, word travels quickly. We have contacted all parents to inform them there will be no school tomorrow. The police request that you do not tell anyone what has happened. Not even close friends and family.’ He mopped his forehead again, and faced Shari. ‘Is there anything else we need to cover?’

      Shari СКАЧАТЬ