‘It was beautiful,’ says Millie. ‘Just beautiful. I would have gone to see it another five times. I thought it was fabulous.’
‘I didn’t go.’ Paula Desmond looks like she has been crying for hours. ‘I wanted to stay out of the whole thing.’ She pauses and then whispers, ‘It sounds awful to say now, but I just didn’t really like the way she’d gone about it. I mean, we all want things, but she just wouldn’t take no for an answer. She really pushed it with John. You know, the principal. Have you spoken to him yet?’ Her eyes widen. ‘He’s absolutely devastated. She was his favourite.’
Playground sounds sing through the windows and merge with the buzz of the ancient fridge. Nicholson has obviously decided that maintaining a normal routine is the best way to go. Substitute teachers have been called in to run the younger classes.
I look around the small staffroom. The ceiling seems unusually low but it’s familiar in the way that generic office spaces are. I remember standing outside the front door off the quad, waiting for my teachers to come out. Peeking past the dividing wall, wondering what secrets lay beyond. Now it’s clear that we wouldn’t have discovered anything of note. Cheap-looking orange carpet fades in and out of the thoroughfares. A noticeboard heavy with news hangs crookedly on the main wall. A photocopier is beeping an error message softly from the corner of the room. Mismatched mugs hang on hooks above the sink. There’s a large bowl of shiny red apples on the bench. A Romeo and Juliet poster is tacked onto the fridge.
‘So would you say you were friends as well as colleagues?’ Felix asks.
‘Oh yes,’ says Millie.
‘We were very close,’ says Sam. ‘That’s why this is so hard.’
‘Like sisters we were,’ sobs Trudy.
‘Wouldn’t stay here if we weren’t,’ mumbles Troy. ‘Life’s too short.’
‘It’s such a great bunch of people,’ declares Paula. ‘I’ve always thought we are so lucky. I was only saying so to my husband the other month how lucky we are. And now this!’
I get her a glass of water and she cries into it, sipping between sobs.
‘How do you find working for John Nicholson?’ Felix asks.
Paula blinks. ‘He’s a good man. A great principal.’
‘He’s very involved,’ Trudy tells us. ‘Always in here for a chat.’
‘Was he close with Ms Ryan?’
Sam’s eyes narrow. ‘Sure. We all were. It’s a real team culture.’
Troy nods. ‘They both love art and stuff like that so they have a lot in common. Sometimes they would go to plays and things.’ He looks back and forth between us. ‘Like the theatre or other school plays, I guess. You know, to check out the competition.’
Izzy Mealor shrugs and won’t meet our eyes. ‘He’s good as bosses go. Seems like a nice guy.’ She flicks her hair out of her eyes and chews at a fingernail. ‘They seemed friendly but not in an odd way.’
‘I’ve known John for years,’ Millie tells us, leaning forward as she clutches at her handbag. ‘Years. He’s a wonderful man. It was very hard for him when Jessica died.’ Her eyes are huge behind her thick glasses. Tears teeter on their edges and threaten to spill over. ‘He cared about Rosalind a lot. I think he had a soft spot for her. Because she used to be a student here.’
‘So there was never any trouble that you can think of?’
Trudy shakes her head. ‘Not really. Normal teaching stuff here and there; it can be a stressful job sometimes. And there was the Valentine’s Day thing.’
Felix and I look at each other. ‘What was that about?’
‘Oh, it was silly, really. One of the boys sent her flowers on Valentine’s Day. A bit awkward, obviously, but no harm done.’
‘Do you know who sent them?’ asks Felix.
‘I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone wanted to make a big deal about it, but the kids would talk about it. One of the girls in my class said it was Kai Bracks, but I don’t know. Could have been any of them—they all adored her.’
‘I think she was a bit of a mystery.’ Izzy looks at us solemnly, her stare a haunting crystal grey. Her dyed red hair spikes sharply away from her forehead. ‘I mean, I’m newer than the others, this is only my first year, but I just couldn’t seem to get beneath the day-to-day stuff with her.’
‘So you wouldn’t say you were friends then?’
Izzy shrugs and her complicated-looking silver necklace jangles.
‘I liked her, I guess. I mean we all liked her.’ She uncrosses and then recrosses her legs. ‘And this is just so awful. Obviously.’ She furrows her brow. ‘It’s just that I never felt like I knew her. I mean, she was very attractive,’ Izzy continues thoughtfully. ‘It was almost off-putting. And I feel like she played that up sometimes, especially with the men. Even with the students.’ Her eyes flit to her lap. ‘But once you got past that it just seemed like there wasn’t much there at all.’
‘Well,’ says Felix, after Izzy gathers her things and leaves. He leans back in his chair, which creaks loudly under his weight.
‘Careful,’ I say, ‘these chairs are worse than the ones in our office.’
I feel exhausted. Dazed from all of this chat about Rosalind. We’ve been playing round robin in the staffroom for almost three hours but I can’t shake the feeling that we are getting no closer to finding out anything more about Rose.
‘We’re hardly getting a clear picture of her, are we?’ says Felix. ‘It seems like she was as much a puzzle when she was alive as she is dead.’
‘Yes. That’s pretty much what I remember from school too,’ I say, feeling the surge of anxiety from that era twist inside me. I had wanted her approval so much.
‘Mostly everyone seems to like her but it’s in a removed sort of way. It sounds like she was quite manipulative sometimes.’
I feel mildly defensive about Rosalind even though he is right. ‘She was very attractive. I’m not sure that necessarily means she was manipulative.’
Felix looks at me, obviously deep in thought about something.
‘Let’s head back,’ I say. ‘We need to review the interviews that the uniforms have done, touch base with the family and then do arvo check-in.’ I get up and stretch out my stiff back. ‘We also need to speak with Kai Bracks. See if he really did send her those flowers.’
Felix doesn’t move. He is staring at the bowl of ruby-red apples.
‘You coming?’ I ask.
‘Yeah. I’m coming. I’m just trying to think. There’s something not right here, Gem, but I reckon we can’t see it.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ I sigh. ‘Maybe we’re looking for something that isn’t there. It could be a random attack.’
‘Maybe,’ he acquiesces.
I continue, ‘Though there are some things about her situation that seem jarring. Like, why did she come back to Smithson? She had a teaching job in the city. Why didn’t she just get another job in a nearby school? It’s not like there was a partner dragging her back here.’