Thorpe was not surprised at the knock on the door. He’d been waiting for over half an hour for Graham Steele.

‘What took you?’ he asked, sharply. He’d asked Nancy to make the call to the counsellor half an hour earlier, and he’d been waiting for the oaf ever since.

‘My aunt is fine, thank you for asking,’ Graham said, tightly. ‘And if you must know I’m late because I’m still prioritising the order of callbacks for the students.’

‘“Callbacks”?’

‘I’ve had forty-three requests for counselling since Sadie died. Obviously, the kids are concerned.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Thorpe said, trying to hide the fact that he should have realised. They were all concerned. Not least because every phone call he’d taken had been from a parent threatening to take their child out of the school, especially since the disastrous press conference.

‘Just how troubled was Sadie Winters?’ he asked.

‘You didn’t know her well?’ Graham asked.

‘Of course not,’ he snapped, sensing rather than hearing the accusation in the tone of his colleague. There were far too many students in the school for him to know them all personally, but he hated that in just a few words this man could make it sound like a catastrophic failing on his part. ‘Just answer the question. Was Sadie in need of specialist care?’

Graham thought for a full two minutes before answering. ‘I feel that Sadie has been quietly withdrawing for quite a while now. I think that her lack of social interaction and academic application began to wane as the star of her sister, Saffron, began to—’

‘Will you please answer the question?’ Thorpe pushed. He was not interested in the counsellor’s extensive theories on the history of the girl’s mental state. One of his biggest concerns right now was duty of care.

Graham’s face grew dark. ‘I will if you ask it.’

Did he really have to spell out everything? ‘Should we have known?’ he asked, through gritted teeth.

Again the counsellor seemed to weigh his response carefully, and Thorpe realised that was one of the reasons he found conversation with the man so infuriating. Every single word was dissected and measured before it left his mouth.

‘There was no indication of suicidal thoughts or I would have spoken to you about—’

‘That is not what I wanted to hear,’ Thorpe said. That admission was only going to add fuel to the detective’s suspicions.

‘Brendan, she barely spoke,’ Graham exploded, using his first name uncharacteristically. ‘During the three sessions we had she hardly said good morning or goodbye. Despite my constant questioning she sat in front of me and picked at her fingernails, so how the hell do you expect me to deduce suicidal thoughts from that?’

The air sizzled between them.

Thorpe understood that for Graham to admit that Sadie had been suicidal would be to bring his own ability and performance into question. But the detectives would never go away if they perceived any doubt that the girl had ended her own life.

‘You’ll be meeting with the police later today?’

‘I would imagine so. I haven’t yet had chance to speak with them. Why?’

Thorpe met his gaze and held it. ‘I want to make sure we’re in agreement,’ he said.

Graham looked at him blankly.

‘I want you to give the police officers everything they need.’

Graham frowned at him. ‘Why would you suspect I’d give them anything less than—’

‘I mean everything they need,’ he said meaningfully.

‘Are you asking me to lie to the police to speed up their investigation?’ he asked.

‘For God’s sake, Graham, catch up, will you? Jesus, you’ve always been a bit…’ he stopped himself from saying any more. He wanted this boor of a man on his side and revealing what he thought about him, had always thought about him, would not help him achieve his goal.

‘Why stop what you were going to say? You think I don’t know how you viewed me when I came to this school?’ he asked, shrewdly.

Thorpe could feel the heat entering his cheeks. Yes, he had tried and failed in his capacity as deputy principal to sway the principal and to reject him for the vacancy. Had he been in his current position when Graham applied he would have refused the man an interview. He didn’t fit at Heathcrest. But right now he needed him onside.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’d earned your degree and studied—’

‘The first time,’ Graham clarified.

Thorpe coughed into his hand. ‘I don’t recall…’ he sidestepped, even though the memory of Graham’s first day was clear in his mind for many reasons. Although not sporting the beard at the age of thirteen, Graham’s reedy appearance and unruly red hair had not helped matters for the new boy at all.

‘There were two of us, if I recall.’

Thorpe shook his head. ‘I really don’t remember the girl, Graham. It was so long ago.’

Graham narrowed his eyes. ‘Her name was Lorraine. We were both scholarship students chosen for our sporting—’

‘As is still the practice, today,’ Thorpe said, shifting uncomfortably. Graham had been chosen for his ability to jump a long way into a sandpit. He’d been close to championship distances before hitting his teens, but an injury to his right heel had failed to mend properly, ending his athletic career at the ripe old age of fifteen.

Graham caught his gaze and held it. ‘Not easy being a scholarship kid in a place like this.’

‘You seemed to manage okay,’ Thorpe snapped. The fact that Graham had been a member of the Spades instead of him still didn’t sit easy with Thorpe. Even after twenty-five years. Graham’s father had been an assembly line worker at the Range Rover plant in Longbridge. Thorpe’s father had been a respected novelist and his mother a judge. He should have been offered the Ace of Spades instead of this buffoon.

But he was in charge now.

‘What I’m asking you to do, Graham, is help the police officers reach the natural conclusion that Sadie’s death was suicide in a timely manner. Basically I want you to get them out of my school.’