‘Hi, Judy. You busy?’
‘Not really. It all feels very surreal.’
‘I know. The streets are deserted. You could have a picnic in the middle of the A149.’
‘Please don’t.’
‘I won’t. I popped in to see Cathbad and he was doing yoga with the kids in the garden.’
Judy can imagine the scene. It makes her wish that she was at home and not in this weird socially distanced workspace.
‘I was wondering,’ says Maddie. ‘Could I come and stay with you for a bit? Just while we’re in lockdown. The lease is almost up on the flat.’
‘Of course,’ says Judy. ‘Your room is waiting for you.’
‘I can help Cathbad with the home-schooling.’ Maddie always calls her father by his name, or rather by his alias.
‘It would be good if you could remind him to do some,’ says Judy.
Judy’s hunch is correct. Karen’s school, Gaywood Juniors, is still open and the headteacher himself answers the phone. ‘Yes, we’ve got about fifty children here,’ says Richard Parsons, ‘some of them very vulnerable. It’s been a nightmare making everything Covid-safe.’
‘It’s the same here at the police station,’ says Judy. ‘Though I suppose it must be harder making children stay two metres apart.’
‘It’s impossible,’ says Richard. ‘And it’s difficult for teachers too. Some of them are shielding or looking after elderly parents. I’m having to live apart from my family because my youngest has asthma.’
They talk for several minutes before Judy can mention Karen. Richard’s voice changes immediately. ‘Poor Karen. That was such a shock. She was a lovely woman and a great teacher.’
‘You say it was a shock,’ says Judy. ‘Did you have any idea that she was depressed or having suicidal thoughts?’
‘None at all,’ says Richard. ‘I knew she’d been hit hard by her divorce, but she seemed on good terms with her ex and was devoted to her daughter. Karen was always such a sunny presence around the school, organising get-togethers and what have you. She even got us to have a sponsored slim last year. I lost two stone. I’ve put it all on again since though.’
‘Karen was at a staff get-together the night before she died, wasn’t she?’
‘Yes. We went out for a meal then on to a karaoke bar. Karen seemed on great form.’
Judy doesn’t say that a karaoke bar would be her idea of hell. She asks who would have been the last person to see Karen that night.
‘I think that was Sue Elver. They shared a taxi together.’
‘Have you got a phone number for Sue?’
‘I think so. She left the school after Karen died. Left the profession entirely. But I think I have a number somewhere in my phone. Yes. Here it is.’
Judy takes down the number, thanks Richard for his time and wishes him good luck with the rest of term.
‘It’s not so bad,’ says Richard. ‘I love teaching and it’s good to be back in the classroom. It’s not the same for everyone. I’ve already had parents on the phone begging me to take their children back.’
‘My partner seems to be enjoying home-schooling,’ says Judy.
‘That won’t last,’ says Richard cheerfully. ‘Bye now.’
Sue Elver also answers the phone quickly. ‘I’m at home with my teenage children.’ she says. ‘Any diversion is welcome.’
‘Must be tough for teenagers.’
‘It is. My son was meant to be taking his GCSEs in the summer. Now they’ve been cancelled. It’s all going to be based on teacher assessments. He’s regretting now not having done any work for the past five years.’
Judy has already explained that she’s investigating the death of Karen Head. Now she asks Sue about her friend.
