‘Good morning and welcome to Adams. My name is Elspeth, I’m the head girl,’ says the first prefect, holding out her hand to shake mine. ‘I do so hope you enjoy your visit.’
‘And I’m Luciana, the deputy head girl. The headmistress will be so delighted to meet you.’
They bristle with pride as we walk past their badge-laden lapels into the gleaming marble lobby.
‘Stop growling,’ I say under my breath.
‘Don’t like them,’ she replies, loudly.
‘Well, I want the best for you, Nelly, so please smile. There’s another ten pounds for you if you behave.’
The headmistress is at the far end of a long corridor, designed to instil fear, as you have at least twenty steps to make under her watchful gaze. I enjoy a game of chicken, so I make eye contact and don’t break it. By the time we meet, I haven’t blinked and she’s only slightly tilted her head. An unusual act of bravery.
‘Welcome to Adams. I’m Mrs Pembury.’
‘Lalla Rook,’ I say, shaking her hand firmly. Mrs Pembury smiles at me and grips even harder. ‘And this is Nelly. She’s so excited to meet you.’
‘Hello,’ says the headmistress. ‘What an interesting outfit.’
I look around. Every other girl is in their uniform. I have been double-bluffed by Tor. I curse myself for underestimating her guile.
‘So pleased to make your acquaintance,’ says Nelly. As soon as she says it, she tries to open my handbag for her payment.
‘Magna est veritas et prævalet,’ says the headmistress. ‘That’s our school motto. Now, can you tell me what it means?’
I look hopefully at Nelly, who’s been studying Latin each Saturday for two years because her primary school doesn’t offer Classics.
‘If you’re the headmistress, and you don’t know, I’m certainly not going to tell you,’ says Nelly.
The headmistress touches a pearl earring. ‘Is that a reference to Pippi Longstocking, by any chance?’
‘I do apologize. She’s such a big reader.’ I have a sudden vision of Nelly throwing the headmistress onto the school roof.
‘No need to apologize,’ says Mrs Pembury. ‘Some children do find it difficult to be polite. Have a lovely day.’
I hurry Nelly through to the reception room before she can argue. She’s immediately engulfed by a cascade of attentive girls and washed downstream where she’s seated at a little table.
The child in the cream beret is sitting calmly at her activity desk, engaging in her ‘creative’ task, which is to sculpt something out of Play-Doh. She’s created a rather impressive pink dolphin.
Nelly is given a ball of soft blue clay and asked to make whatever she wants. That’s an error. She flattens the Play-Doh with her fist and shapes what’s beginning to look like a dog turd.
While no one is looking, I approach Nelly’s desk and pick up her Play-Doh. She snaps, but I’m too quick. I walk up to the girl with the dolphin and with feigned interest ask if I can look at her sculpture. She hands it to me, proudly.
‘It is a good effort but probably only a B grade, sadly,’ I say. Her face crumples into an expression I recognize as the precursor of tears. ‘Crying is minus one grade, so why don’t you try to do another one instead. An elephant might get you an A.’
I take the dolphin and replace it with Nelly’s bright blue turd. The girl looks crestfallen for a moment until a steely determination returns to her eye and she starts to mould an elephant. I return to Nelly and place the pink dolphin on her desk.
‘Now, don’t you touch it, or you’ll be sent to a school for disturbed youths.’
As I leave, I hear a teacher lavishing praise on Nelly’s dolphin. Much deserved, I think, as she resisted the desire to destroy it. I leave the room feeling extraordinarily proud.
Chapter22Police
Wednesday, 20 November
The doorbell rings in every corner of the house. Stephen has anxiety about missing parcels and has plugged in Ring extensions everywhere. I’m with Nathan in the kitchen, teaching him basic baking skills, but he’s yet to understand the important of neatness. Whenever I tell him off, however, he hugs me because he thinks I’m sad. I sometimes find myself telling him off just to get him to throw his arms around my neck.
I pop into the downstairs loo on the way to the door and straighten my hair. I expect to see a harried delivery guy annoyed because I’ve made him thirty seconds late. Stephen continues to buy unnecessary items from Amazon. The last thing was a tactical torch with ten thousand lumens of light, which I can say with confidence, he will never use.
