Read Spiking the Girl for Free Online Page B

tailored clothing, the low-heeled court shoes, the erect posture of a woman who knows people notice her.
    ‘I love this school,’ said Miss de Berigny. ‘I’ve given all my energy to it for fifteen years. Other women have children. I have Netherleigh Park.’ Gemma was startled by the intensity of her expression, the passion in her eyes. Then it was gone and Miss de Berigny raised her eyebrows, smiling. ‘I will do anything necessary to protect it and its reputation.’ She took the page from the printer and handed it over to Gemma.
    Gemma ran her eyes down the names and addresses of Amy’s friends. ‘I’ll start as soon as I can,’ she said, straightening up and slipping the paper into her briefcase. ‘I’ll look after this investigation myself.’
    ‘That’s exactly what I had hoped for,’ said the headmistress, returning to her desk. ‘Your personal touch.’
    Again the smile, a brief woman-to-woman moment, and all at once the interview was over and they were walking towards the door which suddenly flew open. Gemma jumped back as a man barged in.
    ‘Oh, I am sorry.’ His face gleamed with sweat. ‘I didn’t realise you had company. I should take more care where I’m going.’
    Gemma turned to the principal, wondering who this man was. Perhaps the art or music teacher?
    ‘Did you want to see me, Mr Romero? You were late again this morning,’ said Miss de Berigny, her expression changed. Her voice, angry in tone, was also tight and anxious. Gemma thought she saw fear, too, in the pencilled eyes.
    ‘Tasmin Summers,’ said Mr Romero, waving a hand. ‘She was supposed to be here early this morning to go through her term History essay outline with me. She wasn’t in class just now. I thought she might be with you.’ He paused. ‘I can see she isn’t. Sorry.’
    As he backed out and headed off down the corridor, Gemma’s eyes caught the diamond and gold tie pin holding his mauve and green cravat and she wondered if all the teachers wore the school colours.
    ‘I can find my way from here,’ said Gemma to the principal, extending her hand. But Miss de Berigny didn’t move to take it. She was a thousand miles away.
    Gemma dropped her hand and waited.
    ‘Oh, Miss Lincoln. Goodbye. And thank you again.’
    Gemma headed down the two flights of stairs, her mind turning over the curious interlude. You don’t get to be principal of Netherleigh Park without being a skilled strategist and politician, she mused as she climbed back into her car. She went over the interview notes. Beatrice de Berigny wants to tell the board that she’s doing everything possible, but it’s pretty clear she doesn’t really want me to turn up anything new. Or was that just a normal, protective response—a principal protecting her staff? And Mr Romero had walked straight into the principal’s office without knocking. Only someone very close would be allowed to do something like that, Gemma knew. Often only members of a family were permitted that sort of familiarity.
    Beatrice de Berigny, despite her maidenly title, was married to a well-known businessman. Are Beatrice and Romero lovers, Gemma wondered. The idea was intriguing. Then she recalled the principal’s icy response. Maybe not, thought Gemma as she drove out of the school grounds. Then why did her voice sound so strained? And why did she look so scared?
    •
    Gemma was pleased to be back home again. Her apartment was one of four asymmetrical areas developed in the 1960s by an entrepreneur who’d divided up a grand old nineteenth-century mansion originally built by W.C. Wentworth. Her dream was to make enough money one day to be able to buy the apartment directly above hers and have a terrace by the sea. She surveyed the grounds, glancing upstairs at her space-in-waiting. The For Lease sign in the window of the first-floor apartment remained. Coastal views north and south could be seen from up there. It even had a view to the boatshed she’d rented last year as