The Understudy Read online

  He gives me The Look. ‘We’ve been over this a million times. Sadie loves OFA.’

  Sadie had gotten straight As on her GCSEs. Her form teacher almost wept when she heard her star pupil wouldn’t be staying on. So did I.

  ‘She’s happy there. Happier than she was at her old school.’

  ‘Because there’s less work—’

  ‘Because there’s less pressure,’ Nick cuts in.

  We’ll never agree. Why pursue something in which you’re so unlikely to succeed?

  ‘I’d better go—I’ve got a breakfast meeting with WellFort in the morning.’

  ‘Hope it goes well. Love you,’ he says.

  ‘Love you, too.’

  Nick’s face freezes for a second before he disappears and I’m left looking at my own face. My eyes are gritty and bloodshot. I push the laptop to the empty side of my bed, so I can reach it if I wake. I gave up battling insomnia years ago, seeing it instead as an opportunity to get more work done. I knock back the rest of my wine, treating myself to a little something to help me sleep.

  When I wake, it’s to a scream that sends me bolt upright, my heart racing. Was I having a nightmare? But no, there are running feet and shouting and crying and what the hell is going on? I run, groggy from lack of sleep, blinking as I emerge onto the landing into bright lights.

  At the top of the stairs Sadie, Jess, and Bel are clutching each other, staring in horror at something I can’t see. Bel is crying, and Jess has both hands clamped to her mouth, as though she might scream, or be sick.

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘What’s happened?’ I have the oddest feeling that something evil has entered our lives; that something in the very air has changed tonight.

  Lack of sleep, I tell myself. Lack of sleep and teenage dramatics.

  Sadie is so pale her skin is almost translucent. She extends a trembling hand, pointing down the stairs. Bel wails afresh, and clings harder to Jess.

  An uneasy prickle makes its way down my back. I take another three steps until I can look over the glass balustrade down to the hall.

  My hands creep to my mouth, panic forming in my throat. Ruby looks up at me from the bottom of the stairs, a mixture of fear and defiance written across her face.

  But it isn’t Ruby I’m staring at. It’s Imogen, lying motionless at Ruby’s feet, hair spread out like a halo and limbs twisted into shapes that make me wince. Every inch like the broken ballerina Jess found in her locker.

  2

  Let the Show Begin

  B. A. Paris

  SNAPCHAT: THE FAB FOUR

  Ruby: Hey Sadie: You ok?

  Ruby: Sorry I left the sleepover. Had fun?

  Bel: Not the same without you.

  Ruby: (heart) Jess: Why the freak-out, Rubes?

  Ruby: Thought she was dead Jess: Not with that friggin noise Sadie: OTT?

  Jess: Def!

  Ruby: Wish we didn’t have to hang round with her Jess: Let’s tell her to piss off Bel: Can’t, not after what Racki said Jess: Fuck Racki Ruby: No thanks!

  Bel: We should give her a chance Sadie: She’s weird tho, right?

  Jess: One crazy bitch!

  SNAPCHAT: JESS, BEL, SADIE

  Jess: Hey, what was all that crazy stuff with Ruby last night? She really lost her shit Bel: Just freaked out by Imo’s fall, I guess Jess: Nah, more to it than that Sadie: Like what?

  Jess: Dunno—think she pushed her?

  Bel: She was in kitchen Jess: Said she was Sadie: TBF so did Imo Bel: Weird tho Jess: Both friggin weird IMHO

  BRONNIE

  I can’t quite believe I’ve managed to get the four of us together. After what happened last week with the music box, I expected Carolyn to say that if Kendall was going to be here today she wouldn’t be coming, and vice versa. But they both seemed really pleased when I phoned to suggest meeting up.

  Elise said she wouldn’t be able to come unless we met at a hotel near her house, as she’s on a tight schedule. And it had to be today, Friday, not any other day, which is perfect for me as I work on Friday afternoons and can go straight to the Academy once we’ve finished. On the other hand, if I didn’t have to work this afternoon, I could stay right here and order one coffee after another just for the pleasure of being in such luxurious surroundings. I’ve never been in such a beautiful hotel before, with its pink marble floors and plush velvet sofas grouped around gold-and-glass tables. And the chandeliers! There’s an enormous one sparkling right above our heads and my first thought, when I glanced up and saw it hanging there, was that if it came loose we’d almost certainly be killed, not just from the weight of it but from the glittering cut-glass beads that would do as much damage as a thousand sharpened knives. That’s the problem with something that falls from above: You just don’t see it coming.

  ‘Don’t the cakes look delicious?’ I say, wanting to bring our discussion about whether Adam is going to choose West Side Story or My Fair Lady for the end-of-term musical to an end.

  Kendall smiles across at me. ‘They do, but they probably don’t taste as good as yours.’

  I look longingly at my red velvet cupcake. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

  ‘Go ahead, Bronnie, tuck in.’ Carolyn pauses a moment and I wait for the sting. ‘Don’t let us stop you.’

  I can’t help the flush that rises to my cheeks. I hate to think what her reaction would have been if I’d gone for a slice of the heavenly-looking chocolate cake that first caught my eye. I only chose the cupcake because it seemed less greedy. When you’re carrying an extra few pounds, as I am, you’re aware of these things.

  I don’t know why I let Carolyn get to me so much. Carl thinks that, deep down, she’s jealous of me. I didn’t believe him at first; I thought he was just trying to make me feel better about myself, like he always does. But Carl wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t think there was some truth in it. In retaliation, I give Carolyn’s jeans and baggy T-shirt a meaningful look, wishing I had the guts to make a cutting comment about the way she’s dressed, considering we’re in a five-star hotel. Instead, I smooth down the flowered skirt of my beautiful silk dress, glad that Carl will never know how much I paid for it. It’s just as well I insisted on opening my own bank account when I started working at the Academy, because at least he can’t see what’s going out of it. Or going in. Worry jabs at me and I push it firmly to the back of my mind, knowing that it won’t be long before it comes back to haunt me. But for now, I refuse to let anything intrude on this lovely coffee morning.

  ‘When I was going through my cancer treatment . . .’ Kendall says, and I reach for my plate, grateful to be able to zone out for a few minutes. I’m not being mean; I’m always willing to lend an ear to a friend. But I spent a lot of time with Kendall last year listening to her cancer stories, and after a while I wanted my ear back so that I could listen to something else for a while. I really like Kendall, though. She’s the only one I feel I have something in common with. I don’t agree with the way Carolyn belittles everyone, and although Elise is awesome, with her glamorous life and wonderful job, the phrase chalk and cheese could have been invented for the two of us. We’re so poles apart that we wouldn’t be able to meet halfway even if we wanted to. I nearly fell off my chair earlier when she ordered a glass of champagne along with her coffee. I mean, it’s ten thirty in the morning! Even the fact that none of us wanted to join in didn’t deter her—she just went ahead, all on her own.

  Uh-oh, Carolyn has mentioned the music box, time to tune back in. If she’s chosen to touch on such a sticky subject, it can only be that she’s desperate to bring Kendall’s ‘journey’ to an end.

  ‘Ridiculous,’ she says, tossing her too-long, too-blond hair back. ‘Even I can see now that it’s not something Ruby would do.’

  Kendall gives her a grateful smile. ‘It’s good of you to say so.’

  ‘Ruby would never be so overt,’ Carolyn goes on, which—to me—is another way of saying that what Ruby does is more underhand. It’s something
else that Carolyn does, damning with praise.

  ‘Then who was it?’ I ask. ‘And why? Why would someone sabotage a music box and put it in Jess’s locker?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Kendall says. ‘But, of course, the main suspect had to be Ruby.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Adam will get to the bottom of it,’ I say, wanting to reassure her.

  ‘Huh!’ Carolyn shakes her head in disgust. ‘Adam is about as effectual as a priest in a whorehouse.’ Kendall laughs, happy to have Carolyn on her side for once. Elise smiles and I wince because—well, it’s a little vulgar. ‘How is foisting Imogen on the girls going to help?’

  ‘I think he’s done the right thing in asking them to be responsible for Imogen,’ I say. ‘Maybe having someone new in their group will help dilute any tensions. It doesn’t mean that he’s not working behind the scenes to find out who’s behind the music box.’

  ‘Maybe it was Imogen.’ We all turn and look at Elise. She gives a little shrug of her yoga-toned shoulders. ‘I’m just pointing out that it happened the day she arrived.’

  ‘But why would she target Jess?’ Carolyn asks.

  ‘Pure chance,’ Kendall says, grabbing at the idea of another possible suspect.

  ‘It couldn’t have been. Remember, whoever it was went to the trouble of downloading Jess’s song and engineering it so that it would play when the box was opened. No, it was definitely meant for Jess.’

  ‘What happened at the sleepover, Elise?’ I ask, both in an effort to change the subject and to try to find out what really happened, because all I got from Bel was that Imogen fell down the stairs.

  ‘Imogen fell down the stairs,’ Elise says. She looks so unperturbed as she downs the rest of her champagne that I want to shake her.

  ‘Did you call a doctor?’ I know she didn’t, but I want her to see that she should have.

  ‘No, she said she was fine.’

  ‘But did she hit her head?’

  Elise gives another of her little shrugs, infuriating me with her lack of concern. ‘I don’t think so. She didn’t say she had.’

  ‘What happened, exactly?’ Carolyn says. ‘I didn’t get much from Jess because she was asleep at the time.’

  Elise stretches her long legs, clad in beautifully tailored black trousers, in front of her and crosses them at the ankles. ‘The first I knew of it was when Sadie came into the bedroom and woke me up to tell me Imogen had fallen down the stairs. Apparently, Imogen and Ruby had gone downstairs to make a cup of hot chocolate and Imogen slipped on one of the steps and fell.’

  Carolyn looks like a cat who’s spied a mouse. ‘Where was Ruby when Imogen fell?’

  It’s exactly what I want to know, except that I wouldn’t have asked because I wouldn’t want Kendall to look at me the way she just looked at Carolyn. Put it this way—if looks could kill, Carolyn would be dead on the floor.

  ‘In the kitchen,’ Elise says. ‘Imogen said Ruby had gone on ahead. By the time I got downstairs, Imogen was sitting on the floor crying and rubbing her shins. Bel was with her—the fuss Imogen was making had woken her and Jess and Sadie up. She was making a lot of noise about nothing, if you ask me.’

  ‘If she was crying, she must have hurt herself,’ I point out.

  ‘That’s just it, I had the feeling they were crocodile tears.’

  ‘But she did have bruises. She showed them to Bel the next morning.’

  Elise gives shrug number three. ‘She told me she was fine. She didn’t even want the ice pack Bel made for her.’ It doesn’t occur to her that Bel did more for Imogen than she herself did. ‘I was more concerned about Ruby—she was hysterical.’

  Carolyn’s ears prick up. ‘Ruby?’

  Kendall flushes. ‘She was upset, that’s all. She went running back to the hall as soon as she heard Imogen cry out and when she saw her lying on the floor—well, she feared the worst. Anyone would have,’ she adds defensively, reaching for her coffee.

  ‘It was impossible to calm her,’ Elise goes on, talking directly to Carolyn now. ‘She insisted on going home. I had to phone Kendall to come and fetch her.’

  ‘Really?’ The word drips with hidden meaning. I’m not sure what Carolyn is getting at, but Kendall isn’t happy. She bangs her cup down on the saucer, making me, and everyone else in the vicinity, jump.

  ‘Maybe she thought she’d be blamed for Imogen’s fall, even though she was in the kitchen at the time,’ Kendall snaps. ‘She usually gets blamed for everything, whether it’s her or not.’

  ‘Getting back to Imogen,’ Elise says diplomatically. ‘She’s a bit of a funny one. Did you hear about the fuss she made over the beds?’

  ‘If you ask me, it’s a power thing.’ Carolyn has an opinion on everything. ‘She wanted her own way, and she got it.’ She reaches for her plate and stabs her lemon tart with her fork. ‘She’s trouble, I just know it. We’d do well to keep an eye on her.’

  I’ve been watching the fascinating sight of Kendall trying to calm herself—eyes closed, a couple of deep breaths, thumb and index finger pressed surreptitiously together—but Carolyn’s words remind me of something.

  ‘Speaking of keeping an eye on things,’ I say. ‘Did you all see Adam’s email? About drugs at the Academy?’

  ‘If you mean the one asking parents to become vigilantes,’ Carolyn drawls, ‘in a word—pathetic.’

  ‘That’s not what he said,’ I protest. ‘He asked us to be vigilant when dropping off and picking up our children from school, that’s all. And he’s right, we need to be. It would be foolish to think that none of our students are taking drugs.’

  ‘Yes, but he didn’t say what measures he was going to take, did he?’

  No, he didn’t, which was something that annoyed me, considering that last term two students were found using drugs on the premises. Because they were in their final year and about to leave, everything was hushed up. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other students concerned, which is why I asked Adam to think about measures we could take to avoid a potential drug problem at the Academy. I had to really push him to send out an email to raise parents’ awareness, and I was as frustrated as Carolyn by the content of his message. But I’m not about to tell her that.

  Elise, seemingly bored by the conversation, lifts her wrist to check the time on her Apple watch. Worried that she might run off before I’ve had a chance to mention the fundraiser we need to have, to repair the school roof, I look for a way of bringing it into the conversation without the others stifling a sigh in a here-we-go-again kind of way.

  ‘I’m going to organize a fundraiser,’ I say. There’s a collective, stifled, here-we-go-again sigh.

  ‘What for this time?’ Kendall asks resignedly.

  ‘Drugs?’ Carolyn quips.

  ‘The roof. Adam asked Carl to take a look at it over the summer and he found a lot of loose tiles, a result of the storm we had last year. The Academy can fund most of the cost of the repairs but not all. So I told Adam I’d organize a fundraiser.’

  ‘And you want us to participate.’

  ‘I want everyone to participate,’ I say firmly. ‘Loose tiles are a safety risk and need to be addressed as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’m happy to make a donation,’ Elise says, which I was expecting, because she never participates, just arranges a transfer. As her donation usually surpasses anything we make from the fundraiser, I’m not about to complain.

  ‘I’ll bake some American goodies,’ Kendall offers. ‘And I can do anything else you want as long as it’s not something creative.’

  ‘Can you sing?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got quite a good voice.’

  ‘Good.’ I delve into my bag and take a theater program from it. ‘On Saturday, we took Bel and Toby to see Mamma Mia at the local theater. I thought we could put on a show, with an admission fee. Sing a few ABBA songs, that kind of thing.’

  Elise reaches over and takes the program from my hands, and I hope she’s going to say that it’s a great idea. A fr
own crosses her brow.

  ‘Why have you got theater tickets stapled to the cover?’

  ‘Oh.’ I’m already blushing because I know it’s going to sound stupid. ‘I always save the programs from the shows we go to. I have since the children were small.’

  ‘Wow,’ Carolyn says. The wow is loaded, but not with admiration.

  ‘Why, don’t you keep yours?’ Kendall asks, coming to my rescue. ‘I always keep mine. Programs cost such a lot that it’s a shame to throw them in the bin.’

  ‘Even the tickets?’ Carolyn just can’t keep the amused tone from her voice.

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Shall I make the transfer now?’ Elise asks, handing the theater program back to me.

  ‘No, not yet. Maybe you could help out on the cake stall at the fundraiser, Elise. I’m sure Sadie would love to see you there. I’ll let you know the date in plenty of time so that you can get it in your diary.’

  ‘Why not?’ she says, giving me one of her rare smiles—not that she’s a miserable person, but she’s usually too busy to smile. ‘You’re right, it’ll be nice for Sadie.’

  I feel a little less deflated—for once, Sadie will have her mum there. But I’m still upset that nobody seems interested in my idea of a show. I shove the program back in my bag. It serves me right. The one thing I can do really well is sing—I was good at acting, too—and if I’m honest, I was hoping to impress the others with my voice. Everybody raves about how beautiful Bel’s voice is, but they never think to ask if she got it from me or Carl. I’d love the others to know I’ve got a good voice, but it’s not as if I can just stand up one day and burst into song. They’d think I was mad. Madder, Carolyn’s voice whispers, and I’m glad she can’t see the huge wooden chest I’ve got at home, stashed full of theater programs from every show I’ve ever seen.