The Drowning Lesson (27 page)

‘Yeah. I think he was around in the theatre sometimes.' She glanced down. ‘You know, at the back.'

‘At the back?' Again, barely inquisitive.

‘Yeah. Where people waited. Maybe.' She looked up and there was reluctance in her dark eyes. ‘I didn't really see.'

‘What did he look like?' I asked quickly.

‘Don't know.' Nikita didn't look at me. There was a pause. ‘Maybe dark hair?'

She moved nearer Shan on the sofa and closed her eyes. I didn't think she would tell us anything else, but Ted was asking another question.

‘And tonight? What did she say to you about tonight?' There was silence. Nikita was completely still. Then Shan stood up. ‘She's tired now.' Her voice was firm. ‘She needs to go back to bed.'

‘Tell us, Nikita, please.' I touched her on the arm lightly, carefully. ‘Please, please tell us what she said.'

She looked back at me then, her brown eyes wide with surprise. Her best friend's mother was a busy figure in the distance: cheerful, running in and running out. In charge of her life and her family. She didn't plead.

‘She said' – Nikita paused for a fraction – ‘she said, “Wish me luck.' ”

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First published in Great Britain in Penguin Books 2015

Text copyright © Jane Shemilt, 2015

Cover image © Trevillion

The moral right of the author has been asserted

ISBN: 978-1-405-91532-8