Free The Missing by Jane Casey

rest of the week. No consideration for the parents, who have to sort out childcare for the next four days.’ His face, which was already flushed, went a shade darker. ‘You can tell your headmistress that I am deducting a week from this term’s fees. That should make her reconsider her priorities.’
    ‘I’ll pass that on,’ I said, then stepped back smartly as he revved the engine and sped away, tyres spitting gravel. It hadn’t been worth pointing out to him that the Shepherds would give everything they had to be in his position, but I had thought it.
    As I turned to go back into the school, someone called my name and I looked around. Oh no . Geoff Turnbull was jogging across the car park, heading straight for me. Running away would have been undignified. Besides, he was quick on his feet. I’d have to tough it out.
    ‘I haven’t seen you all day.’ He stopped altogether too close to where I was standing and ran a hand down my arm caringly. ‘This is horrendous, isn’t it? How are you coping?’
    To my utter horror, the question made my eyes fill with tears. It was totally involuntary, the product of exhaustion and stress. ‘I’m OK.’
    ‘Hey,’ he said, shaking my arm gently. ‘You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. Let it out.’
    I didn’t want to let it out, especially not in front of him. Geoff was the staffroom flirt and he’d been pursuing me since I started working at Edgeworth. The only reason he was still interested was because I wasn’t. As I tried to think of a nice way of getting rid of him, I found myself being pulled into his arms for what was supposed to be a reassuring hug. Geoff manoeuvred himself so that his entire body was in contact with mine, pressing himself against me. My skin crawled. I patted his back feebly, hoping he would let go, while mentally debating the relative merits of the swift-knee-to-the-groin approach versus taking one of his grabby hands and bending the fingers back. Too polite to do either, I gazed dully over his shoulder – straight into the eyes of Andrew Blake, who was crossing the car park himself, heading for the school hall.
    ‘Geoff,’ I said, beginning to wriggle. ‘Geoff, get off me. That’s enough.’
    He loosened his hold on me so he could look down at my face. He was still looking intensely sincere, an expression I felt he had been practising in the mirror. ‘Poor little Jenny. It’s no wonder you’re upset about her. Did you hear, they’re saying it was one of us who found her? I wonder who that could have been. Who goes jogging around here?’
    He knew very well that I ran to keep fit; he’d offered to run with me more than once. I shrugged, managing not to react, and took a step back to put a few important inches of air between us. ‘It’s really dreadful. But seriously, I’m coping. I just had a moment of being upset.’
    ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’ He reached down and took my hand. ‘It’s just a sign of what a caring person you are.’
    Oh, please .
    ‘Maybe we should sit down and talk about this over a drink. You deserve it. You’ve done your duty. Let’s get out of here.’
    I thought fast as I worked my hand free. ‘Sorry, Geoff. I’m going to the press conference. I just want to keep in touch with the investigation. You know.’
    Without waiting for a reply, I started towards the school, heading for the door Blake had gone through. The press conference should have started already, I thought, checking my watch. I hadn’t been planning to go, but anything was better than being interrogated by Geoff in some tacky bar, sipping a warm Coke and watching his every move.
    I slipped through the door at the back of the school hall, closing it behind me. The room was absolutely packed – journalists at the front, photographers along the aisles and cameramen at the back of the room. Some of the other teachers were there, standing to one side. I found myself a spot beside Stephen Smith, who nodded at me