Silent Victim(44)

‘You threw yourself at me, because you thought sex was the only way of holding on to what we had. But in offering it up on a plate, you lost all my respect.’

‘No,’ I blurted, swallowing back my tears. ‘You said if I didn’t have sex that you’d finish it.’

‘Really? Are you sure? Because sex didn’t come into the conversation as far as I was concerned.’

‘Wha . . . what?’ I stuttered, barely able to believe what I was hearing.

‘When I said I wanted a serious relationship, I was talking about baring our souls, not our bodies. I asked you to the beach hut so we could talk.’

‘No,’ I said, searching the corridors of my memory for the truth. ‘You said . . .’

Luke shrugged. ‘I was scared at the prospect of opening up; most victims of abuse are. But you turned all of that on its head when you locked the door and made it clear what you were really after. I was hardly going to say no.’

I pushed my hands to the side of my forehead, trying to extract the memory. Had he actually mentioned sex or had I misunderstood what he’d said? ‘Please, Luke, I’m sorry. I must have taken what you said the wrong way.’

‘Yes. You did,’ he said. ‘And while you may think little of your reputation, it’s a different case for me. This is my job. My livelihood.’ He reached for my throat, grasping hold of my sunflower necklace and giving it a tug. I winced as it snapped under his grasp, and he pocketed the remains. ‘So quit with following me around and leaving flowers in your wake. You’re dumped. Get over it.’

‘You . . . you don’t mean it,’ I said, gripping the edge of the sink as he turned away. ‘Luke. Are you listening to me?’

‘It’s Mr Priestwood to you,’ he replied haughtily, before walking out the door.





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

LUKE





2003


I felt the heat of the headmistress’s glare long before she summoned me. It felt like a branding iron on the back of my neck. I resisted the urge to turn round until she cleared her throat. I had made it my business to leave my classroom door open after the students had left my class. Such efforts at transparency had come too late and I could tell by the look on the head’s face that word of my run-in with Emma the day before had been spreading.

‘Luke. Can I have a word?’ was all she said, and I was brought back to the days when I was the apple of her eye. Back then, being summoned meant extra praise for working hard throughout the year. It was why I had returned here, to the same school I had attended. I didn’t need to put in the effort of creating a friendly facade when the groundwork had already been done. And now, not even a year into my new role, I was being called to her office for a telling-off. My ego had led me to this point, an inability to resist a schoolgirl’s adoration. I may have been the teacher’s pet once myself, but I was not beyond reproach.

As we marched to her office I was grateful that most of my students had gone home. I tried not to think about Emma as I steadied my breath, but it was an impossible task. I knew without a doubt that she was the reason for the stringent beckoning, and I had my story prepared.

The head teacher’s office had not changed much over the years. It still housed an old-fashioned Teasmade in the corner that appeared to be more for decorative than practical use. Mrs Pritchard used the recently refurbished staffroom with the rest of us, taking advantage of the Dolce Gusto coffee machine which was always on the go. A large round clock still kept time on the wall behind her desk, and the same wooden photo frames now held updated snapshots of her brood. On the windowsill a dusty-looking bonsai plant absorbed the sun through glass that was long overdue a clean. Tiny beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as I sat in the airless room. Having been forced to spend time with my family over the holidays, I had looked forward to returning to work. The question was, would I be staying? By the look on Mrs Pritchard’s face, I was not so sure.

She clasped her fingers together, her heavy bosom fighting against the constraints of her blouse as she leaned towards me. ‘I’ve called you here to ask you about one of your students – Emma Hetherington.’

I remained silent, my face impassive as I waited to hear what I was being accused of.

‘There’s no point in beating around the bush so I’ll come straight out with it. What is the nature of your relationship with this young woman?’

I inhaled a calming breath through my nostrils as I prepared my explanation in my head. ‘The same as with all of my students. She turns up for class – I teach her. Why?’

‘Because that’s not what I’ve heard. Apparently there was an incident after school last week and you’ve been seen together in town.’

‘Colchester’s not exactly London. I often bump into students when I’m out.’ I sighed, leaving enough of a gap to make it appear as if I was wrestling with my thoughts. ‘Can I be honest with you?’

‘I’d prefer it if you were.’

I rubbed the side of my neck. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything. I’m fairly new to this role and the last thing I wanted was to be knocking on your door with my problems.’

‘Which are?’ She arched an enquiring eyebrow.

‘Emma’s got a crush on me. I’ve done everything I can to dissuade it, but she’s totally infatuated. It’s even gotten to the point that she’s followed me about in town. If I’ve been seen talking to her outside of school, it’s only because I’ve been gently warning her off.’