Celeste holds up her hand. “Could someone please explain what’s going on?”
Jess stands and talks Celeste through a rather bizarre story of foodtampering, pointing at a lunchbox—Nika’s lunchbox, Celeste realizes—in Greta’s hands.
“We shouldn’t take the lid off now because it might actuallykillher,” Jess adds with a final flourish to her story.
Celeste stares. This is not what she was expecting. Calls like this—teachers searching bags—are usually about vodka or vapes.
“Ms. O’Donnell was trying to kill me,” Nika hiccups between sobs, “for what I did to Maeve.”
Jess nudges Nika’s foot with her toe in what looks like a warning. Celeste registers it but doesn’t dwell—there are more urgent questions.
She takes the lunchbox from Greta’s hands and steps a little away from her daughter to open it. Inside, there’s a brownie in one compartment and a granola bar in the other. On the brownie, Celeste can see something that looks like sand liberally sprinkled on top. Ground almonds. Not something she buys any more, for obvious reasons. She turns.
“Greta, what’s going on?”
“Needless to say, I didn’t put anything on her food and I’m not trying to kill her,” Greta says with what is clearly forced calm.
“Then why did you take her lunch out of her bag?”
“I…I had an inkling something was wrong.”
Celeste stares at her. She has no idea what’s happening here, but she is sure of one thing, and that’s that Greta is lying.
“An inkling? I’m going to need more than that, Greta.”
“She’s lying, Mum. She did it,” Nika sobs.
Greta’s eyes narrow. “And why would I do that? Why would I want to hurt you?”
Celeste can hear the challenge in Greta’s voice.
“I don’t know, because you’re a psychopath? Mum, we need to call the police.”
Jess nudges Nika again, wedging the toe of her trainer under Nika’s foot.
“What?”Nika glares at her friend.
Jess makes a face at her and Celeste catches it.What are they trying to hide?There’s one way to find out.
“I think you’re right, Nika,” Celeste says. “We need to contact the authorities.”
Now all three—Nika, Jess and Greta—balk. Nika catches Jess’s eye then looks at Celeste.
“I…I might have made a mistake.” Nika swipes at her tears with the heel of her hand. “Maybe…maybe Ms. O’Donnell was trying to help me, like she says.”
“Well,someoneput the ground almonds in there—this is very serious,” Celeste says, arms folded. “You could havedied.”
Greta gives her a strange look, and it takes a moment for Celeste to work it out. She stoops belatedly to give her daughter’s back a comforting pat.
Jess clears her throat. “There was a kid in our class who posted something on Snapchat about nuts recently—he’s a bit, um, dim? So he might not have realized how dangerous it is.”
“You think he did it? Came into the girls’ changing room and tampered with Nika’s lunch?” Celeste doesn’t bother to keep the incredulity from her voice. “Is heatthe hockey camp?”
Jess shrugs. “I think I saw him earlier…”
Celeste waits for more—something from Nika or Greta to confirm or deny the hypothesis—but neither says a word.
“This is not the end,” Celeste says, pulling her daughter up from the bench. “You’ll be hearing from me, Greta.” And a swipe at Greta is a swipe at Susan O’Donnell, she thinks, quietly pleased. She propels her daughter out of the changing room. “I’m sure I can leave you to dispose of the lunchbox.”
