Say Her Name (7 page)

There were so many rules at Piper’s Hall, and she had obeyed them without question for so long that Bobbie often forgot how ludicrous they were. Right now, the fact they were only allowed to use mobile phones from 7 to 10 p.m., and only then in their dorms, seemed especially insane. But this was the institution that had special paths and corridors for Uppers and a blanket ban on black socks. Another rule was that girls weren’t allowed into the dorms between lessons or during study sessions, the (accurate) thinking being that girls would use their frees to sleep.

As the bell rang out and everyone else made their way to period four, Bobbie and Naya had to go to the Lodge to use the phone. ‘Do you think anyone saw us?’ Naya asked.

‘I don’t think so. But maybe you should go to Drama just to be on the safe side?’

‘Are you crazy? I’m not missing this to listen to Ms Flemming bang on about the freaking Stanislavski System.’

Bobbie chuckled and checked the coast was clear. God only knew where Mrs Craddock was – she was off duty until five. Somewhere down the hall a hoover purred as the cleaners went through the bedrooms. Activity surrounding Sadie’s room in Christie House seemed to have died down, although the police cars on the front drive suggested the officers hadn’t left yet. With any luck, their presence would keep teachers out of their way.

Taking the crumpled piece of scrap paper out of her blazer pocket, Bobbie started to dial the number last listed for Bridget Horne.

‘Do you want me to do it?’

‘No, it’s okay.’ Bobbie listened to the phone ring.

‘Maybe they’re all out – it is the middle of the day.’

‘Or maybe it’s totally the wrong num—’

On the sixth ring, someone answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Oh, hi. Is that Bridget?’

‘No. Who is this?’

Bobbie had a name ready off the alumni list. ‘This is Clarissa True. I was in Bridget’s year at school.’

The voice on the other end was tentative, nervy. ‘Oh. Well, dear, this is her mother.’

‘Is Bridget there?’ Bobbie knew that over ten years after graduating from Piper’s Hall, it was highly unlikely Bridget still lived at home, but she hoped they might get her new number.

‘Did you say your name was Clarissa?’

It felt like there were bubbles in her heart. ‘Yes.’

‘Did we ever meet, dear?’

‘I think we did.’ Bobbie reached into the dark. ‘At that show … ’

‘And you knew Bridget well?’

She didn’t like the past tense one bit. ‘We were close at school, but y’know, we sort of just lost touch … after what happened.’ It seemed like a safe bet that an unexplained double disappearance had sent ripples through the year group.

There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘I see. Well, thank you so much for getting in touch. I shall be sure to tell Bridget that you rang.’

Bobbie scrabbled to keep her on the phone. ‘Isn’t there a way that I could speak to her myself?’

‘At the hospital?’

‘Yes.’ Bobbie’s blagging skills were being tested to the limits. ‘Don’t they have like a time when I could ring?’

There came another pause: a barely audible, sad sigh. Although her tone was as full of forced cheer as yellow paint, Bridget’s mother sounded tired. ‘That’s sweet of you, but Bridget doesn’t really say much any more. Least of all on the phone.’

Bobbie looked to Naya, who just shrugged. ‘Erm … what was the name of the hospital again? I’ll send a letter.’

‘Oh that would be nice – I think she’d really appreciate that. There haven’t been too many letters or phone calls since she went into care full-time. It’s the Psychiatric Care Unit at the Royal Seahaven Hospital.’

Bobbie took care to keep the victory out of her voice. ‘Thank you, Mrs Horne, I shall send a card later today.’

‘Thank you, Clarissa. You take care now.’

She ended the phone call and looked to Naya. ‘This just keeps getting more and more messed up. Bridget is on a mental ward in Seahaven.’

‘No way. That’s just past Oxsley.’

Bobbie nodded. ‘I know. I think we need to pay –’

She was halted in her tracks. A silhouette loomed tall in the frosted-glass door panel. The door creaked open, Dr Price’s slender frame somehow filling the space. Bobbie’s heart plummeted in her chest and shot into her throat simultaneously.

The Principal’s eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at them. ‘And just what do you think you two are doing?’

Chapter 9

‘Well?’ Dr Price’s cool tone was betrayed by the anger in her eyes.

Bobbie tried to speak, but her heart still blocked her windpipe and only a strangled gasp emerged. Naya wrapped her arm around Bobbie. ‘Bobbie was really freaked out about Sadie. I thought it might make her feel better if she rang her mom.’

‘Oh for crying out loud, Miss Sanchez. I would expect better from Lowers, never mind Uppers. Furthermore, Mr Carlos informs me that you left Spanish this morning, apparently at my say so?’

Bobbie decided to try something radical – the truth. ‘I’m really sorry, Dr Price. I was freaking out about Sadie. It’s my fault. I asked Naya to sit out Drama because I had a study session.’ She made her eyes go as wide as they possibly would.

It worked a charm. ‘I have to say, Roberta, this is
most
unlike you. In six years you’ve never been a moment’s trouble, and this is the second time in two days I find you in the wrong place.’

More Rowe doe eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I … I just … I’m really worried about Sadie.’

Dr Price pursed her lips. ‘We all are, which is why I
need
the Uppers to set an example to the younger girls.’

Bobbie nodded solemnly, feeling a little guilty. Then Naya asked a question and Bobbie swore the floor tipped like the world had been punched off its axis. ‘Was this what happened when those girls vanished thirteen years ago?’

Boom. Dr Price actually flinched. Even the robot-headmistress-with-no-soul reacted to that bombshell. Her jaw clenched and her eyes flickered with what could easily be panic before she regained control and replied. ‘How do you know about that? That was a very long time ago.’

‘Everyone knows,’ Naya said casually, like it was no big deal.

‘I very much doubt that’s the case.’ Her voice became ever so slightly shrill before she cooled herself. Bobbie could tell she was trying to downplay the past. But why? For the first time Bobbie questioned if the event had been somehow covered up. ‘Do I really have to explain the effects a bit of gossip and hysteria could have on the school at this time, Naya?’

Bobbie felt her cheeks blaze, ashamed. Her primary-school need to please the teacher had never faded.

‘Now you both listen to me, and listen carefully. Those girls both vanished miles and miles away from Piper’s Hall. Clearly what happened, although most upsetting, had nothing to do with the school. Is that clear? I want no further mention of this or you’ll both be in isolation.’

Neither girl argued. Bobbie dared not even look into her eyes for fear of turning to stone. In six years at Piper’s, Bobbie had only ever known one girl be placed in the Isolation Room – a girl who tried to hurt another girl with a knife in a dining-room brawl. Dr Price was deadly serious if she was even threatening it.

‘Bobbie. If you want to call your mother you have five minutes. I’ll be waiting outside the door. Naya, I want you in class immediately with a written apology to your teacher for your poor punctuality. Go!’

Naya said nothing, slinking past the Principal, her head heavy with shame. Bobbie picked up the phone and dialled her mother’s number – with Price lurking outside she’d
have
to call her now. Bobbie calculated it was about eight in the morning in New York; hopefully her mum wouldn’t be at rehearsals yet. She answered on the second ring and Bobbie greeted her. ‘Bobbie, darling!’ Her mum sounded husky, like she’d just woken up.

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Oh, darling, you sound dreadful – whatever’s the matter?’

‘Did I wake you up?’

‘Yes, but that’s all right. There was this ridiculous party last night, sweetie – you would have died. Rooftop swimming pool at Soho House. Private party for Jared’s fortieth. Utter decadence like you wouldn’t believe!’

Bobbie tasted tears at the back of her throat. She didn’t even know why – something to do with the familiarity of her mum’s voice. She could see her now – the bird’s nest of expertly bleached hair on the pillow. Last night’s lashes still attached to panda eyes.

The idea that time was running out caught up with her, a fantasy hourglass hovered over her head, sand pouring through at an alarming rate. What if she never saw her mum again? ‘Mum, can you fly home?’ The words popped out before she could stop them.

‘What?’

‘There’s something really weird going on. I can’t explain it.’

‘Don’t scare Mummy, darling. What’s going on? Are you in trouble? Is it drugs? It’s drugs, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have been so liberal, should I?’

‘No. No. God, no, it isn’t drugs.’ Bobbie took her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing back the threat of tears. She could feel herself regressing, becoming the little girl who just needed her mummy. ‘Mum, I’m scared.’

There was a pause. ‘Darling, is someone giving you a hard time? Tell me who it is and I’ll have Dr Price expel them. It’s very simple. That’s your problem, sweetie, you’re too nice. You trust people and they completely take advantage. What have I always taught you … ’

‘Please, Mum. I just really miss you. I wanna see you.’

‘Bobbie, if you won’t tell me what’s wrong, there’s nothing I can do, is there?’

Bobbie closed her eyes. Her head felt like it was full of noisy, jagged images and ideas rattling around like broken glass and nails. She felt powerless, useless. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Of course I do, darling. We all get homesick. I miss home all the time – what I wouldn’t give for a bit of proper bacon right now. The Christmas holidays will come around before you know it.’

The first tear found its way out. A fat, warm thing, it dribbled down the inside of her nose and dripped off her nostril onto the phone stand. She couldn’t tell her mum that there was nothing beyond the next four days. There would be no Christmas – she wouldn’t even make it to Bonfire Night. ‘Mum, please … ’

‘Come on, Bobbie. You have less than two years left at school. I think you can cope. Mummy needs to be in New York at the moment. I thought you understood that.’

Wiping the tear away, Bobbie nodded. ‘I know.’ She pulled herself together, knowing she would never convince her to fly over and, from the fate of Taylor and Abigail, that her escaping to New York wasn’t going to work either. Bloody Mary would find her however far she ran. Deep breaths. As tempting as ‘little girl mode’ was, she’d have to dig deep for ‘strong like she-wolf’. This was just a wobble – she could do this, she had to. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a hard couple of days.’

‘This isn’t like you, darling.’

‘I know.’ Bobbie closed her eyes and imagined borrowing strength from her resilient mother through the telephone cables. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure? Do you need money?’

If only it were that simple. ‘No. I’m okay. Just ignore me.’

‘Okay, sweetheart. I need to dash. I have a shiatsu massage at ten with Chloë Sevigny. I’ll leave my phone on though … If you need me, just give me a call.’

Bobbie pulled her knees under her chin, feeling flaccid. ‘Sure. I’d better get to class.’

‘Kisses, sweetie!’

‘Bye, Mum.’ She hung up the phone.

Bobbie attended Philosophy for the rest of the afternoon and then had to lip-synch through choir practice too. Her mind couldn’t focus for a second; it was hard to concentrate with an enormous, noisy, ticking clock clicking out the seconds. For the first time in her life, every minute counted and she keenly felt she was wasting them.

She went to supper with Naya, but could only face a tragic bowl of vegetable soup. Solids were a no-no. Naya looked similarly unimpressed, poking some sort of gelatinous stew around her plate. ‘Do you think there’s carbs in this?’

‘It seems likely,’ Bobbie replied listlessly.

She stuck her tongue out. ‘Man, I feel gross. Even the smell of it makes me wanna hurl.’

Bobbie knew how she felt. The mood around Piper’s Hall was even more sober than normal. The clocks had gone back the week before so night had fallen just before five and the evening mist seemed to curl in off the sea even sooner. The outdoor areas were dank, cold and cloaked in an impenetrable fog.

The atmosphere inside the dining hall was no better. With Sadie still missing, and all the scandalous gossip fried off, all that was left was worry and genuine concern – both for the missing girl and at the lingering notion that all was not well with their school. Piper’s Hall was always depressing, but now it also felt
unsafe
.

The girls ate in a respectful quiet, with solemn whispers into friends’ ears rather than shrieks and whoops at the end of a day of lessons. Dr Price watched over them from the head table, which was within Bobbie’s earshot. After the main sitting, Grace and Caitlin approached the Head.

‘Dr Price?’ Grace said, her voice newsreader serious. ‘Me and a few of the Ladies –’ by that she meant The Elites –‘would like to organise a search party for Sadie. Or perhaps record a YouTube appeal?’

Uh, you two-faced harpy
, thought Bobbie. Anything to win favour. ‘That’s so thoughtful, Grace,’ Price replied. ‘But I rather think the police have everything in hand.’

‘Okay, let us know if you need any helpers.’ Grace and Caitlin almost bowed away from the table. Bobbie surreptitiously rolled her eyes.

Another brilliant Piper’s rule – no Wi-Fi in dorms – meant that at the first opportunity, Bobbie had to rely on faltering smartphone reception on her mobile once dinner was done and they were back upstairs. Eventually she successfully Googled the Royal Seahaven. Naya sat on her bed, nail-filing manically, even twitchier than usual.

‘Got it,’ Bobbie declared.

‘What?’

‘Visiting hours for Seahaven. Tomorrow, ten till twelve or two to four.’

‘You’re really gonna do it?’

‘Yep. I’m not gonna sit around waiting to turn to dust or whatever. You know, it’s really obvious now that Sadie knew there was something going on. You saw how crummy she looked yesterday.’

Naya didn’t disagree but she did stop filing. ‘How are you gonna get out? You need written permission to leave the grounds on a weekday.’

Bobbie shrugged. ‘I don’t care. The worst Price can do is expel me. If we don’t figure out what this is all about … well, it’ll be much worse.’

The right corner of Naya’s mouth curled upwards. ‘You know what, Bobbie Rowe? I kinda like this new empowered espionage thing. It’s very sexy.’

Bobbie laughed. ‘And I think you’ve been in an all-girls’ school too long.’ She took her wash-bag off the peg on the back of the door. ‘I’m gonna use the bathroom while it’s busy. That place is freaking me out.’

‘Good call.’

At this time of the evening, it was normal for there to be a queue and today was no different. The sombre mood had even infected the halls of Brontë House. Although there were two shower cubicles in the bathroom, there were also two girls waiting outside the door, slouched against opposite sides of the corridor like bookends. Perfect. She wouldn’t have to use the shower alone.

The girls in line, two Lowers, muttered about rumours that some escaped bearded lunatic had got into the building and abducted Sadie. Being older and wiser, Bobbie reassured them that wasn’t the case, but neglected to mention the fact that she seriously thought a ghost might have something to do with the disappearance. After a ten-minute wait, a girl in a matching towel-dress/towel-turban combo declared the shower was free.

Once in the bathroom, Bobbie peeled off her dressing gown and stepped into the shower block. When her neighbour got shampoo in her eye and swore loudly, Bobbie couldn’t help but be comforted. For the first time in six years, she was thrilled to be showering alongside her fellow classmates.

Bobbie relaxed. She remembered a time before Piper’s Hall when she’d spent many evenings alone with the nanny while her mum was working. She’d only ever been able to sleep peacefully once she heard her mum get home. This was the same; with the girl in the next cubicle she could unwind. She washed her hair and even conditioned it for the suggested five minutes before rinsing. The tense, uptight nerves in her shoulders clicked as they loosened.

It was only when she turned the shower off she realised there was no longer any noise coming from the next stall. The other girl must have finished and slipped quietly out of the room while she was daydreaming under the jet. Bobbie braced herself and refused to be deterred. It was fine. She was in a brightly lit bathroom surrounded by dozens of other girls. Nothing could possibly happen.

Drip, drip, drip
.

She’d heard that noise before. The thick, echoing drops that sounded like they were nowhere but everywhere at the same time. Bobbie towelled herself off as quickly as possible, avoiding the long mirror. It was steamed up and she didn’t want to see what was in it. She remembered the way the reflection had stretched back like a black tunnel.

Drip, drip, drip.

The lights flickered, buzzing and dimming. They stuttered, almost going out. Bobbie slipped on the wet tiles, reaching for her dressing gown in haste. She wanted out of this room. Tying it at the waist, she reached for the door.

Drip, drip, drip
.

She froze. The thin plastic curtain was pulled across the right-hand cubicle, but it
wasn’t
empty. Although the shower was off, a silhouette stood behind the curtain. Arms hung at her side, her head tilted slightly to her left, lank hair hanging over her shoulders.

Drip, drip, drip
.

‘Hello? Penelope, is that you?’ Bobbie’s throat was tight. The silhouette didn’t answer – didn’t even move.

A voice raged in her head:
Get out! Run!
But her feet moved towards the shower stall. Bobbie had had enough of peekaboo with the mysterious figure. ‘What do you want?’ Bobbie’s voice was the thinnest of whispers. ‘Mary?’ She reached a damp, trembling hand towards the shower curtain.

Behind her, the door slammed shut, sealing her in.