What's Murder Between Friends by Meg Gatland-Veness

What's Murder Between Friends by Meg Gatland-Veness

Author:Meg Gatland-Veness
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pantera Press
Published: 2024-07-15T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 16

‘Mr Morton?’

It’s Dorothy who speaks. Sometimes I forget Mr Morton is even in here during drama lessons. Besides marking the roll at the start of each lesson, he has started to fade into the backdrop a little bit. Today he’s wearing a paisley shirt that I’m positive his mother bought for him. There is no other reason to wear it in public.

‘Yes?’ It is quite apparent that he does not know Dorothy’s name. In a class of five, you would think he could remember our names.

‘Last term we handed in an essay as part of our assessment. Do you have them? Or do you know what marks we got?’

‘I uh, well, I’ve not seen them anywhere on Ms Lovelace’s desk. Perhaps they were at her house?’

My heart sinks a little bit as I think back to that night when we fed her cats. I wonder what happened to them.

‘Will we just get an estimate mark then?’ Dimitri asks. I’m sure he would love to get an estimate mark.

‘I’ll look into it,’ Mr Morton says, but I highly doubt he will.

I realise I have been holding my breath and breathe out slowly.

We get back to work, but I can’t seem to focus today. I stuff up my part in the song and I’m out of time in all the unison moments.

I am glad when the bell goes and we head outside.

We all sit together at recess, on the grass near the hall. The sunlight is just disappearing behind the clouds.

‘Want to run lines after school?’ Walter asks.

I don’t suppose I need to tell you that I have no need to run lines, but I’m sure that Walter does.

‘I have to work,’ I say. I teach ballet to the tiny ones at Berlioz Dance School one afternoon a week.

‘After that?’ he asks.

I agree reluctantly and look at Penny, who keeps her head down. She’s working on her essay for English. She has great handwriting; it looks like it was written by an old typewriter.

‘Want to run lines with us, Dorothy?’ I ask.

‘I have to work until late.’

Looks like it’s just Walter and me then.



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