The schoolgirl in the waiting room is instructed to escort us. Her name is Monica and she walks with a pigeon-toed gait and sloping shoulders. We climb the stairs and follow a corridor past classrooms and science labs.
I fall into step beside Ruiz. He’s limping more today; the legacy of an old bullet wound. He’s too proud to use a walking stick. Vain.
“Why did you give her such a hard time?”
“She reminded me of my old physics teacher.”
“Is that all?”
“You didn’t meet my physics teacher.”
Monica knocks on the door of the common room and asks for Miss McCrudden. The English teacher is in her mid-thirties, wearing dark trousers and a blouse with a coffee stain. Her fingers are spotted with blue marker pen.
Most of the tables are taken by groups of teachers eating sandwiches or reheated soup. We take a seat in the corner.
Miss McCrudden looks at me nervously.
“This isn’t an official interview. Nobody is taking notes. I’m a psychologist working with the police. I’m trying to learn whatever I can about Piper and Natasha.”
She makes a clucking sound deep in her throat. “Such lovely girls.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pardon?”
“You answered automatically and said they were lovely girls.”
“They were.”
“How were they lovely?”
“They were very friendly.”
“Did they have a lot of friends?”
She hesitates. “Some.”
“Not a lot then?”
“Are you trying to disagree with me?”
“I’m trying to get to the truth.”
The teacher eyes me accusingly. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yes. You see, Miss McCrudden—”
“Call me Kirsty.”
“Kirsty. By most accounts Natasha McBain was a bit of a tearaway. Always getting into trouble.”
“She was high-spirited.”
“There you go again—making excuses for her. Apologizing. Trying to soften the edges; airbrushing the truth.”
She gives me a hard stare and starts again. “Natasha could be difficult. Hard to control.”
“In what way?”
“She didn’t respect authority. I don’t think St. Catherine’s was the place for her.”
I wait for something more. She sighs. “I shouldn’t really talk—I was a complete nightmare at school. Not as bad as Natasha, mind you, but my parents were always being summoned to explain or apologize.
“Some girls are suffocated by a place like this—the discipline and routine. We talk a lot about pastoral care and not leaving a girl behind, but let’s face it, we want students who make us look good, who aren’t management problems, who do well in their exams…”
“Natasha didn’t fit.”
“She was a brilliant student. A complete natural, the sort who wins awards and gets scholarships without even trying.” The teacher lowers her voice. “But she was also restless, preoccupied, often crude. When she wasn’t terrorizing teachers, she was flirting with them—male and female.”
“Did she flirt with you?”
Kirsty smiles knowingly. “Natasha enjoyed being provocative, but there’s a difference between physical maturity and emotional maturity. She made a lot of bad decisions.”
“What about Piper?”
“Completely different. A born storyteller. One of the best creative writers I’ve ever taught. She daydreamed. Often I’d catch her staring into space, or studying the ground as though it were a river she couldn’t cross. And she had a way of touching things, tapping them lightly with her fingertips, as though playing a secret game.”
“Academically?”
“She struggled.”
“Is she the sort of girl to run away?”
Kirsty doesn’t answer immediately. She turns to the window, watching girls outside in the playground.
“Natasha was one of those rare creatures who truly didn’t seem to care what people thought. Compliment her or criticize her and her reaction didn’t change. Piper was more self-conscious. I think there was some hero worship involved.”
“How did Natasha react?”
“She loved being adored. Piper was like her faithful retainer.”
“Why didn’t they have many friends?”
“They had issues.”
“Such as?”
The teacher falters slightly. “I think a lot changed after the accident.”
“What accident?”
“There was a fight between two local lads. One of them drove a car into the other. Left him disabled. The driver was arrested and charged with attempted murder.”
“What does that have to do with Natasha?”