‘She’s a popular girl,’ was the somewhat trite reply. ‘She came to us from her parents’ Islamic school, which is a big leap, especially socially, but she seemed to take it absolutely in her stride.’
‘Her parents implied that she’s had a sheltered upbringing. ’
‘Relatively perhaps, but she’s had the opportunity to spread her wings here. In many ways Yasmin’s background is very different to some of the other girls, but because she’s friendly and outgoing, she gets along with people. She’s also not afraid to express her own opinions. Don’t be misled into thinking of Yasmin as some “poor little black girl”, Inspector.’
‘Would anyone particularly resent that, an Asian girl being clever and popular?’
Mrs Darrow stopped and turned to face him. ‘We don’t tolerate racism or bullying in this school, if that’s what you’re implying.’
‘That’s not to say that it doesn’t go on.’ Mariner held her gaze. ‘I can’t imagine that there’s any school that doesn’t have a problem with bullying; some establishments are just more aware of it than others.’
Mrs Darrow’s colour deepened before she walked on. ‘You’re right of course, Inspector, realistically it happens, but I’ve never known it to be an issue with Yasmin.’
‘You have a high reputation in the area,’ commented Millie.
Had she been a bird, Mrs Darrow would at that point have preened her feathers. ‘Mm. We had an eighty-four per cent pass rate at A-C and a ninety-three per cent pass rate at A level last year. It put us into the top ten in the national league tables and this year we’re on stream to do even better.’ The numbers, largely meaningless to Mariner, fairly tripped off her tongue.
‘And is Yasmin keeping up?’
‘Her GCSE grades were excellent: six A stars, three As, one B.’ She frowned. ‘Although as with most of the girls, she’s finding sixth form a little more of a challenge.’
‘Why’s that?’ asked Mariner.
‘The work is harder,’ she said simply. ‘Added to which these are adolescent girls, Inspector, at the mercy of their hormones. They get distracted. It’s not an uncommon thing to happen. They’re under an enormous amount of pressure, to be clever, pretty and popular. Some girls cope better than others. For Yasmin there’s the additional conflict that what her parents want for her isn’t necessarily what she wants.’
‘And what does she want?’
‘At present, just to keep her options open.’
‘And her parents don’t?’
‘Like many of our parents, Mr and Mrs Akram have fairly fixed ideas about what constitutes a worthwhile career. Often those views can be quite traditional.’
‘Medicine or law,’ Millie chipped in.
Mrs Darrow smiled. ‘Exactly.’
‘What would be her teachers’ response to a drop in standard? ’
‘We’d encourage her to put in that little bit more effort.’
‘Would that worry Yasmin?’
‘It’s hard to tell, but I’d guess that it might unsettle her a bit. Yasmin’s a bright girl, and I know her parents have high hopes for her.’
‘Are they adding to the pressure?’
‘No more than any other parents who want their child to do well,’ Mrs Darrow responded quickly.
‘What’s your relationship with Yasmin’s parents like?’
‘They’re very supportive. Many of the resources we acquire these days are accessed through specific government initiatives, often through matched funding.’ Seeing the blank expressions she continued. ‘We put up half and the DfES matches it.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yasmin’s father has been very generous in our endeavour to acquire language college status.’
‘What about friends? You said Yasmin is popular.’
‘She’s part of an established group.’
‘And Suzanne Perry, the friend her mother thought she was staying with?’
‘I was quite surprised about that, I must say. Their friendship has always been rather an unlikely alliance.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I’ll let you find out for yourselves. Here we are.’
They had reached their destination and Mrs Darrow pushed open the door of what seemed to be some kind of recreational room. Low, comfortable chairs were grouped around a couple of square wood-effect utilitarian coffee tables. At least she’d taken on board Mariner’s request to keep this informal. There were five girls present. They had been talking, but quietened politely when Mrs Darrow appeared. They weren’t cocky and street-wise like the girls Mariner was used to dealing with. Even at this age, they seemed cool and sophisticated and more than a little intimidating as they appraised their visitors and Mariner wished he’d checked his flies before coming in. Each girl had put her individual stamp on the school uniform, but one in particular stood out. She looked older than the others, not just because of her spiky red hair or the heavy black eyeliner that circled her eyes. There was something about her demeanour. She was the only girl in the room to return Mariner’s gaze, and some.
There were three vacant seats. Mrs Darrow offered one each to Mariner and Millie, before making introductions and taking the other herself.
As Mariner had agreed with her beforehand, Millie took the lead in the hope that the girls might be more relaxed with a woman nearer their age and therefore more inclined to open up. Mariner was impressed with the way she handled it, too: just the right proportion of friendly to professional.
‘Hi. We’re really glad that you agreed to meet with us today. If any of you has any idea where Yasmin might have gone, it’s really important that you tell us now. It goes without saying that everyone’s very concerned about her, and she may be in danger.’ Silence. Time to be more specific.
‘Yasmin told her mum that she was going for a sleepover with Suzanne. Is that right?’ Millie scanned the room, inviting a response from Suzanne. When none came Mrs Darrow offered a gentle prompt. ‘Suzanne?’
‘That’s right.’ The sullen reply came from the spiky-haired girl, who addressed her answer to Mariner, at the same time shifting in her seat and conspicuously adjusting her tiny skirt.
‘So what happened?’ Millie asked.
‘She changed her mind.’ Her green eyes remained disconcertingly fixed on Mariner’s, but Millie persevered.
‘Why was that?’
‘She said she wasn’t feeling too well. And she felt bad about coming.’
‘What about the project?’
Finally, Suzanne turned to face Millie. ‘What project?’
‘The project you and Yasmin were working on, that you had to finish?’
Suzanne frowned. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’
‘OK. Why do you think Yasmin changed her mind about coming?’
‘Because of the row with her dad,’ she said with exaggerated patience, finally switching eye contact to Millie.
‘What row was that?’
‘About the sleepover.’ Mariner could imagine her tapping the side of her head in despair. What kind of thicko was she dealing with here? ‘Her dad wouldn’t let her come.’
Understandably, Millie was puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. I thought she’d had her parents’ permission.’
‘Her mum’s,’ Suzanne corrected. ‘Her dad had said absolutely no, but when she knew he was going away, Yasmin talked her mum round. That’s the whole point. That’s why she changed her mind. She felt bad about going against her dad.’
So the Akrams were in conflict about Yasmin’s sleepover with Suzanne. That explained a lot.
‘So the two of you hadn’t fallen out?’
‘No. Yasmin just succumbed to emotional blackmail, as she was expected to do.’ Her voice was heavy with contempt.
‘And as far as you’re aware, Yasmin went straight home from school?’
‘Yes. She said it would keep.’
‘What would?’ Mariner asked. Suddenly he was interested and Suzanne knew it.
‘She ha
d something important to tell me, but that by the next day it would be better, there would be more to tell.’
‘Have you any idea what this was all about?’
‘No. But Yasmin was pretty wound up about it.’ She was playing him like a violin.
‘Wound up how? Excited or worried?’
Suzanne took her time. ‘I’d say excited.’
‘But she didn’t give any hints about what it was?’
‘No.’
‘Who travels home with Yasmin regularly?’ Millie asked. A couple of hands went up tentatively. Mariner had forgotten what a programmed response that was. ‘Could you tell us about that journey, yesterday?’
At last a shrug from the girl called Emma, with dark hair tied back and an uneven, lumpy complexion. ‘It was just the same as any other. We had graffiti club after school so we were late leaving.’
‘Graffiti club?’
Mrs Darrow smiled. ‘No, we’re not encouraging vandalism, Constable. It’s just the trendy name for our art club.’ A couple of the girls rolled their eyes, smirking at her use of the word ‘trendy’.
‘What time was that?’
‘About quarter to five,’ the girl whose frizzy red hair was escaping from her ponytail spoke up. ‘We had to go back into school because Yaz couldn’t find her travel card. We had to retrace our steps, everywhere we’d been that day.’
‘And did you find it?’
‘It was on the floor in the art room. The last place we’d been. Typical.’
‘Go on, Emma,’ Millie encouraged.
‘It was the same as usual. We all walked down the road together. Some of us carried on along the main road to get the bus, while Yaz went down the side road towards the station for her train. We could see it coming in as she got there, so she had to run.’
‘Is Yasmin the only one to get the train?’
Another girl spoke up as confidence began to grow. ‘Some other girls in the school do, but none of our crowd.’
‘At that time in the afternoon, most of the girls would have already gone,’ added Mrs Darrow. ‘The only ones left are those who stay for after-school activities. We’ve asked for anyone who might have seen Yasmin on the train to come forward, but they haven’t as yet. It’s quite possible that no one did.’
‘And no one else lives near Yasmin?’
Shakes of the head, but it didn’t come as any surprise. They already knew that.
‘And Yasmin didn’t say anything about doing anything different or going anywhere yesterday evening? Could she have gone into the city, for example?’
‘Suzanne?’ Mrs Darrow prompted.
Suzanne merely shrugged and it was Emma who supplied the answer. ‘We had a piece of English homework that was going to be hard. Yaz was going to phone me later when she got home.’
‘And Yasmin was excited rather than worried about anything. Other than the disagreement about the sleepover, nothing recently upset her?’ Mariner asked Suzanne directly.
‘She was pissed off with her parents, but what’s new?’ She glanced at Mrs Darrow to see if her language would be censured and was satisfied by a disapproving glare. Mariner could imagine Suzanne being pissed off with just about anyone. She behaved like a girl who was used to controlling adults for her own ends, and it was becoming glaringly obvious why Yasmin’s parents didn’t want to encourage the friendship between their daughter and this girl. He wondered what it was that made her so angry. But then he remembered that most teenagers were like that at some point - for no reason at all. He was just out of touch. ‘Yasmin’s old man doesn’t give her an inch. She’s always in trouble with him about something lately. He’s a psycho.’
‘Suzanne, that’s going too far!’ Mrs Darrow was looking not at all happy about the way this was going.
Shooting her a look that would fell an elephant at nine paces, Suzanne’s ‘what would you know?’ remained unspoken, but it reverberated around the room nonetheless. ‘Look at the fuss they made about her staying late for graffiti club.’ It was quoted as evidence, making Mariner wonder if this girl might have a career in law ahead of her.
‘They were unhappy about that?’ said Millie.
‘Her dad was unhappy about anything that wasn’t work. “Go to school, go home, do your homework.” Yaz is expected to be a good little Asian girl.’
‘Does she resent that?’
‘Sure she does, but not enough to do anything about it. She’s not allowed to wear make-up, but instead of standing up to her parents she just puts it on while she’s on the train coming into school and washes it off afterwards. She just gives in to them all the time.’
‘But she comes to graffiti club.’
‘Only because Sir stuck up for her.’
‘Has anyone got anything else to add?’ asked Millie after a respectable pause. More shakes of the head.
‘Well, if there’s anything else you think of, we’ll be giving Mrs Darrow a contact number for us. And please remember, it’s vital that you tell us anything you know, however small or unimportant it may seem.’
The teacher nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll put the number on the common room bulletin board.’ And as there seemed nothing else forthcoming, she dismissed the girls back to their lessons.
‘I’m sorry that wasn’t more helpful,’ said Mrs Darrow when they’d gone. ‘And I would take Suzanne’s last comments with a pinch of salt. Some of the girls at this age do have this “the whole world’s against me” mentality, usually with parents and school at the top of the list. Added to that, their imaginations are fuelled by the constant confrontations they see on TV soaps. Suzanne in particular can be something of a drama queen.’
‘Who runs this graffiti club?’ Mariner wanted to know.
‘The “Sir” Suzanne mentioned: Mr Goodway. He’s the head of D & T.’
Mariner turned to Millie for clarification. ‘Design and Technology,’ she grinned, shaking her head sadly. ‘I expect it was plain old woodwork in your day.’
‘We could do with talking to him. It looks as if he may have been one of the last adults to see Yasmin yesterday afternoon.’
‘We can see if he’s free.’
Chapter Four
Brian Goodway blinked rapidly at them through dense wire-framed glasses. Although school was in session, he had what Mrs Darrow referred to as a ‘non-contact’ period, and they found him pottering about in the technology room, which Mariner discovered to be the home of wood- and metalwork, textiles and art. Picking him out on the school photo, Mariner wouldn’t have attributed anything artistic to Brian Goodway. He was too tidy, more maths or geography, with his neatly knotted tie and one of those ubiquitous tweed jackets that had gone out of fashion years ago with everyone except a certain generation of teachers, although this one didn’t extend quite as far as leather elbow patches.
The classroom was a different matter entirely: a chaotic arrangement of workbenches topped by the skeletal wire forms of half-finished sculptures and interspersed with spindly easels displaying adolescent creations in various stages of completion. Goodway himself seemed surprisingly unmarked by the fallout; several pairs of overalls hanging on the back of the door took the strain.
Mariner’s eye was caught by a particularly ghoulish design, not unlike those on display in the entrance hall. ‘Body art,’ Goodway volunteered, seeing Mariner’s interest. ‘If you’re going to motivate the kids you have to operate on their level. The days of sketching a vase of flowers or bowls of fruit are long gone. That particular effort was drawn by a young lady in class 9G. She’s been working on it for three weeks now, mainly because of the problems she’s had with the proportions of the eagle’s head just here, getting those feathers to sit properly.’ He ran a finger along the offending area, and Mariner had the impression that whichever of the creations he had picked on, Goodway would have been able to supply exactly the same amount of detail.
Goodway showed them some still life drawings that Yasmin had been working on. One was a pencil drawing of
a hand, the veins and skin texture perfect. ‘Yasmin is a very talented young girl,’ he told them. ‘Art is a discipline like any other. Along with creativity you must have an eye for precision.’ He smoothed his sparse sandy hair over his scalp and took his glasses off to wipe them on a tissue. ‘Occupational hazard,’ he explained.
‘I understand that you fought Yasmin’s corner for her when her parents were reluctant to let her stay for the club.’
‘It would have been a criminal waste if she hadn’t been given the opportunity to develop her talents. As it is, she’s been persuaded to give up art in favour of more academic subjects at A level. Graffiti club means that she can pursue both.’
‘Would she make a living at it?’ Mariner asked, wondering if this was the conflict of interests with what her parents had in mind for her.
Flattening his hair again, Goodway let out a sigh. ‘As a freelance artist? Not necessarily. Art is a competitive world.’ He gestured towards a photograph of three teenage children, two boys and a girl, that was pinned to the wall above the corner desk. ‘That’s my daughter Chloe,’ he said. ‘She’s in her twenties now and was gifted enough to get a place at the Slade Art College in London, but she still struggles to make a living as an artist. I try to ensure that the girls here have a realistic view of what they can achieve. Encourage them to get their academic qualifications too, looking at a more structured career within the art world, perhaps within graphic design or illustration.’
‘How did Yasmin seem at your class yesterday afternoon? ’
‘Fine. The girls seem to like the club. It’s a chance to relax and shake off the shackles of prescribed coursework.’ A twinkle gleamed in his eye. Despite appearances, maybe there was a rebellious streak in there after all.
‘She hadn’t fallen out with anyone?’
Goodway shook his head. ‘You know what youngsters are like. Even if she had I doubt that I would know. It may be a more relaxed class, but I don’t fool myself that any of the girls would share much with an old fogey like me.’
Mariner wasn’t so sure. ‘Why do you think Yasmin’s parents weren’t keen on her staying for the graffiti club?’
Blood of the Innocents Page 5