I had hoped to wake before Dad, but he’s up first, and nudges me awake with his slipper.
‘Agatha? What are you doing on the floor?’
‘I … had a bad dream.’
He smiles and frowns at the same time.
‘That bad, huh?’
‘Pretty bad.’ I get up and hug him. ‘Want coffee?’
‘Please. Big day ahead.’ He sighs, remembering everything that has happened the day before. ‘I feel like I had a bad dream too.’
‘Maybe I can help out in the park today,’ I say. ‘I bet St Regis will be closed without water …’
He chuckles at my optimism. ‘Nice try. I’ve been listening to the radio – sounds like everywhere but St Regis is closed. They’ve shipped in water especially for you.’
I groan.
Dad is right – St Regis is open for business. Lesser schools might have been closed down by the ‘minor crisis’, but St Regis – the school of choice for the sons and daughters of billionaires and oligarchs – is not going to be brought down by something as trifling as a water shortage. So, I will have to sit through maths and chemistry, wishing I could be investigating, but most of all wishing I could keep an eye on Dad.
My first lesson is dance in the Great Hall. Liam must have arrived a little while before me because he’s already changed and standing in the corridor outside the hall. I see Brianna Pike nearby, but the other CCs are standing apart from her. Sarah and Ruth talk to each other closely, as though sharing a secret. This is nothing new. They like to make everyone else feel like they aren’t in on the joke.
Quickly, I change into my dress and shoes and join the class. We all hate ballroom dancing, but there’s some generous donor on the board of governors who thinks all young ladies and gentlemen need to learn, so we have no choice. I can’t wait to tell Liam about everything that happened yesterday and luckily, as we are partners, I don’t have long to wait. Liam and I were paired together at the start of term. Unluckily, we are both dreadful. The portraits of St Regis’ past alumni look disdainfully down on us – surely all of them knew how to dance a foxtrot.
Liam shuffles over quickly, dying to talk.
‘Agatha, have you seen the news?’
‘Of course I have – and I do have so much more to tell you,’ I say in a low voice. But, just as I’m about to recount my tale, the music starts. As Liam stands on my foot during the warm-up and mumbles an apology, I lean in to his ear, ‘I think the water crisis is linked to the hit-and-run.’
‘Whaaat?’ He looks sharply at me. ‘How can it be?’
‘Because Dorothy D’Oliveira is a professor of hydrol— OW! –’ Liam has trodden on my foot again – ‘Careful!’
‘Sorry, sorry … Howz about you explain everything and I’ll concentrate on not stepping on your toes?’
So I do, telling Liam about everything that happened since I’d left him at school yesterday. I tell him about the assault outside the RGS, the mysterious biker, my encounter with Professor D’Oliveira and Brianna Pike. For a moment, I’m aware of Brianna and her partner dancing closely to us, in perfect time, but then they’re gone. She’s with a tall, dark-haired boy who’s rumoured to be from the dethroned royal family of a small country in Eastern Europe. Fleetingly, I wonder if Brianna has heard any of my story.
I finish up – ‘And I could have sworn that I saw the red slime on her shoe as I left … It can’t just be a coincidence. The professor went to hospital early in the day – before the first sightings of the slime!’
Liam doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but I can’t be sure if he’s thinking about what I’d said, or concentrating on not tripping up. Our steps are even more out of step than usual. Finally, he says –
‘Look, Agatha, don’t you think this investigation is a bit … over our heads?’
‘Liam, this is the best case we’ve ever had!’ I cry out. ‘I need your help more than ever. I need you, Liam.’
‘Ahem! You do realise the music has stopped, Miss Oddlow, Mr Lau?’ The teacher’s voice makes us spring apart.
The others in the class are sniggering, and I blush in spite of myself.
‘Nice one, Oddball.’ Sarah Rathbone grins. Next is the polka – a particularly evil dance, which never seems to fit the music. With the music back to cover our voices, I do my best to convince Liam.
‘London needs us – this is a real crisis, not a missing cat.’
Turn, sidestep, hop, reverse.
‘I don’t know … Shouldn’t we leave it to the police?’
‘But they don’t have the leads that we have,’ I say.
‘Change partners! Keep your back straight, Mr Fitzpatrick. Tem-po!’ the teacher interrupts our conversation.
Liam spins away from me, into the arms of another girl, and by the time he returns he seems to have made up his mind. ‘Agatha, look, you’re my best friend … If this case is so important to you, then count me in. Just try not to get us locked up because of it.’ He grins, and my heart leaps.
‘Thanks, Liam, that really means— ouch!’
‘Sorry.’
‘Mr Lau, could you at least attempt to hear the hop in the music?’ calls the teacher.
Liam smiles and whispers into my ear, ‘Apparently, there’s a hop in the music.’
I shake my head, smiling. With Liam on board it really is going to be a proper investigation.
After the lesson, I put my regular shoes back on, rubbing my bruised toes, and go to the toilets to splash water on my face. My hair is a mess from all the whirling around. I look at my flushed cheeks, then stand in front of the mirror and run a brush through my dark bob. I think I’m alone, until I hear a whimper from one of the cubicles. I jump at the unexpected sound – yesterday wasn’t good for my nerves. I pull myself together.
‘Hello?’
There’s no reply except for a choked sob.
‘Hello?’ I repeat, going over to the cubicle and tapping the door. ‘Are you OK in there?’
There’s no sound for a second, then the door unlocks.
‘Come in,’ says a voice. I know that voice, and for a moment I hesitate – surely this is a set-up? But, for whatever reason, I do as she says.
Brianna Pike is sitting inside, muddy tracks of mascara streaking her cheeks. I’m so used to Brianna wearing a certain expression – haughty disdain – that it takes me a moment to realise she’s crying.
‘Brianna … what’s the matter?’
‘Lock the door. I don’t want anyone coming in … Please?’
I hesitate, then do as she says. It’s pretty cramped in here. ‘What’s happened?’
She doesn’t say anything, just shows me the screen of her smart phone. I look at it, trying to understand.