Authors: Anthea Fraser
When they arrived at the school that afternoon the Frenches were surprised, and not pleased, to find the Chases also waiting to see Miss James. Relations had been strained since Edward had come face to face with Gordon and his ‘fancy woman’, as he termed her, in Ashmartin a month or two back.
Not, he reflected now, that they had ever been friends. Put bluntly, the Chases were social climbers, and it was only the friendship of their daughters that had forced some kind of bond between them.
‘Do you know what this is about, old man?’ Gordon Chase asked with false heartiness. ‘Smoking behind the bike sheds or something?’
‘Oh, surely not!’ his wife put in, flashing a nervous glance at Christina and regretting her own choice of outfit. How had she ever thought this dress suited her? And she did wish Gordon wouldn’t force himself on Edward like that. Anyone could see he was gritting his teeth to remain civil. Oh God, why had they sent Marina to this snooty school? She always felt like a duck out of water here.
‘Well, if she does smoke, old thing, she’ll have got it from you.’ Gordon had detected her disapproval and was stung by it. ‘Regular old chimney these days!’
‘It calms my nerves,’ Diane snapped back, and turned quickly to Christina. ‘It was so sweet of you to invite Marina over last weekend, but we’d planned a family celebration. I hope you didn’t mind?’
Christina smiled without replying. Since Marina had apparently spent the weekend with Stephie anyway, no celebration, family or otherwise, had been in evidence.
Their discomfort was ended by the school secretary coming for them, though Hannah was conscious of the residual friction as she greeted them.
The contrast between the two families could hardly have been more marked: Mr French tall, carelessly well-dressed and sure of himself; Mr Chase, florid-faced and slightly rumpled, with a defensive smile on his face. And the women might have belonged to different species, the one so elegant and soignée; the other with tightly permed hair and a skimpy dress that did nothing for her. But as Edward turned on the charm, he might have been surprised to know with which couple her main sympathies lay.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ she began as they seated themselves. There was a tray on a side table and the secretary poured tea and handed it round before quietly leaving the room. Immediately, Diane’s prime concern became how to balance the fragile cup and saucer without spilling the tea, and to eat silently the crisp biscuit which accompanied it.
‘As you’ll have gathered,’ Hannah was continuing, ‘something rather worrying has happened, but before I explain, I’d be grateful if you could tell me how the girls spent last weekend.’
Four startled pairs of eyes met hers and immediately dropped away. She waited politely. Edward French, naturally, was the first to recover.
‘Stephanie went to a disco, didn’t she, darling?’
To her annoyance, Christina felt herself flush. ‘I believe so, yes.’
‘You believe, Mrs French?’
‘That’s where she usually goes. I told her to be back by eleven and to phone if she wanted collecting.’ Which, surely, was all that was required of her; but when Hannah didn’t immediately speak, she added with a malicious glance at Diane, ‘She was with Marina.’
‘This was Friday evening?’
Christina nodded.
‘And did you collect her?’
‘No, she was home by ten-thirty.’
‘Surely she made some comment about her evening?’
‘No.’ Impatient to make love, they’d simply bidden her good night and gone straight upstairs.
‘And you didn’t ask her?’
Belated guilt made Christina snappy. ‘We don’t interrogate our daughter, Miss James. If she volunteers anything, fine. Otherwise we don’t pry.’
‘With fifteen-year-old girls “prying”, as you call it, can sometimes be very necessary. Last Friday might well have been one of those times. What about Saturday, then?’
Christina was beginning actively to dislike the woman. ‘On Saturday I had to fly up to Scotland on business. I didn’t get back till Monday, after Stephanie had returned to school. My husband, naturally, was at home.’
Hannah turned with raised eyebrow to Edward, who also looked uncomfortable. ‘Actually, I was embroiled in a golf competition most of the weekend,’ he admitted. ‘Unfortunate in the circumstances, but there you are. That’s how things work out sometimes.’
Hannah’s voice was dangerously quiet. ‘Did you have any contact with your daughter over the weekend, Mr French?’
‘Of course I did,’ Edward blustered. ‘We had breakfast together both days, and I was home in time to run her back here on Sunday evening.’ He paused. ‘I even offered to cook her bacon and eggs, but she floored me by announcing she’d turned vegetarian.’
Hannah leaned forward. ‘Was that on Saturday or Sunday?’
What the hell did it matter? ‘Saturday, just after my wife left. I remember wishing she was there to deal with it.’
‘So you’ve no idea how Stephanie spent either Saturday or Sunday while you were — embroiled in the golf competition?’
He reddened and shook his head. Damn woman, showing him up in front of the Chases. It was about time she started lashing into them. Which she proceeded to do.
‘What about Marina, Mrs Chase? Was she with you all weekend?’
Diane started at being addressed, and some biscuit crumbs fell on the carpet. She tried to rub them in with her shoe. ‘Er, no, not all the time.’
‘So what did she do on Friday evening?’
‘She went to a meeting.’ It was said with a triumphant glance at Christina; at least she’d known where her daughter was. ‘I thought it was something the school had arranged,’ she added diplomatically, ‘specially since Stephanie was going.’
‘Did she tell you about it afterwards?’
‘Oh yes, she was full of it — very flushed and excited.’
‘So what kind of a meeting was it?’
‘A religious one. They met two nice boys there and were going to see them the next day.’
‘And did they?’
‘Yes, she was out all day Saturday. I didn’t worry; I thought if the boys were religious, they must be all right. When she came back, she told me she was going to stop wearing make-up because it was a kind of deception, and anyway, Terry said she didn’t need it. And she didn’t want to eat meat or fish any more either.’
‘I didn’t know all this,’ Gordon interrupted.
‘That’s because you weren’t there,’ his wife retorted.
‘You mean they’ve gone religious?’ Edward sounded dazed.
‘I think,’ Hannah said, lifting a cassette player on to the desk, ‘it’s time we listened to this.’ She switched it on, watching the four of them as they sat in stunned silence while the tape played itself through.
Then Edward said in a strangled voice, ‘Who the devil was that?’
‘Devil’s right,’ Gordon muttered.
‘He’s the leader of a New Age cult called the Revelationists. I believe it was their meeting the girls went to on Friday.’
‘Where did you get the tape?’ Christina demanded.
‘From Marina, but Stephanie was with her. Someone overheard them playing it. They’d a sheaf of pamphlets in their lockers, containing more of the same.’
‘But they don’t believe it, surely?’ Diane asked shakily. ‘Mrs Chase, they’re young, impressionable girls. I can think of many adults who’d be taken in by it.’
‘But what can we do?’
‘Hope we’re in time to stop them getting too deeply involved. They’re under constant supervision here, but I’d strongly advise you not to leave them to their own devices during the holidays, at least until this has had time to die down. I realize,’ Hannah added, with an edge to her voice, ‘that it might be inconvenient, but you now know the dangers they can be exposed to.’
She stood up and came round the desk to hand each of the men a small card. ‘This is the telephone number of Cult Helpline, which was set up specifically for the families of those involved with these sects. They’ll be able to advise you. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is surround your daughters with love and understanding, stress how much they mean to you, and hope they’ll respond.’
They couldn’t get out of her study quickly enough, Hannah noted ruefully, aware that the home-truths she’d hinted at had not been palatable. Not that she’d any sympathy with them particularly the Frenches, whose cavalier attitude amounted to neglect.
Hannah sighed and glanced at her watch, saw that she had barely an hour before the staff meeting and settled down with some work.
As it happened, she’d not even that. Less than five minutes after the parents had left her, a quick tap on the door brought her secretary, white-faced, into the room.
‘Miss James, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Miss Hendrix has been taken ill.’
Hannah exclaimed with concern, pushing back her chair. ‘What happened? Where is she?’
‘Matron’s taken her to the sick-room. As to what happened, I’m not sure. She was in the middle of a class and just seemed to collapse.’
Lack of food, probably, Hannah thought as she hurried to the sick-room and pushed open the door. Miss Baxter, the school matron, was bending over the narrow bed on which Miss Hendrix sat with her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically.
The matron turned a worried face towards her. ‘I’ve phoned for Dr Templeton, Miss James. I’ve no idea what’s wrong but I think sedation is indicated.’
‘Which class was she taking, do you know?’
‘The Lower Sixth, in room thirty-one.’
Hannah nodded and, since she could do no more for the invalid at the moment, hurried away to see what she could learn.
The hum of apprehensive chattering reached her as she came up the stairs, stopping abruptly when she appeared in the doorway. The entire class rose to its feet. Hannah’s eyes, flicking down the rows of anxious young faces, alighted on one of the prefects.
‘Sit down, everyone. Caroline, will you tell me, please, what happened to Miss Hendrix?’
Caroline Dashwood remained standing. ‘She was testing us on Macbeth quotations, Miss James — act, scene, characters — that kind of thing. We weren’t doing too well and Miss Hendrix had to prompt us several times. Then she asked whether a certain passage came before or after Duncan was murdered, and we got that wrong, too. And suddenly her face just crumpled. She hurled the piece of chalk on to the floor and just collapsed over the desk, sobbing and crying. It was awful, Miss James. We didn’t know what to do, so Roberta ran for Matron.’
‘Did she say anything before she collapsed?’
Caroline’s voice shook. ‘I think she said, “Now I can’t even teach any more!” That made it worse, as though it was our fault.’ She added almost pleadingly, ‘Is she feeling better now?’
‘I’m afraid not. The best way you can help is to settle down quietly and revise the passages you fell down on. You owe her that, at least.’
Which was probably unfair, Hannah thought as she ran back down the stairs, but at least it should ensure silence in the classroom for the remainder of the lesson which, thank God, was the last of the afternoon.
By the time she regained the sick-room, John Templeton, who, as well as being the school doctor, was also Gwen’s brother-in-law, was attending to Miss Hendrix. He turned to meet Hannah’s anxious eyes.
‘I’ll come to your study, Miss James, when I’ve completed my examination.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
Hannah returned perforce to her room. Oh Gwen, she thought despairingly, I do wish you were here!
*
‘It’s been a horrible day,’ Hannah commented to Webb some hours later. ‘I had both sets of parents in to hear the tape, which involved lambasting them for not keeping an eye on their daughters. They didn’t take kindly to it, especially the Frenches. Then, to crown everything —’
‘The Frenches?’ Webb interrupted.
‘That’s right — Stephanie French is one of the girls we’re concerned about.’
‘Does her mother run an interior decorating business?’
‘Yes, French Furnishings. Do you know her?’
‘Oddly enough, it was she who was talking to our murder victim shortly before he was killed.’
‘Really? It’s not her week, is it?’
‘Sorry, I interrupted you. Go on.’
‘Well, no sooner had they left than a member of staff collapsed during class and had to be carted off to sick-bay. John Templeton says she’s suffering from exhaustion brought on by malnutrition, which doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, he’s transferred her to the san and wants to keep an eye on her for a day or two.’
She held out her glass as Webb refilled it. ‘And to round everything off, we had a staff meeting which was heavier going than usual and I’d a splitting headache by the end of it. You do realize this second drink is purely medicinal?’
‘But of course.’
She smiled up at him. ‘So having got all that off my chest, how did your day go?’
‘Quite interesting. The Noah’s Ark was given to Mrs Kershaw by an unknown gentleman during the last weeks of her life. I’m told she was obsessed with it, never letting it out of her sight. I reckon we all know what that means. And for good measure a gang of Revvies had been making themselves useful to her, doing odd jobs around the house and generally getting into her good books.’