Suspicion
Leigh Russell
Contents
Also by Leigh Russell
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
A Note From Bloodhound Books
Copyright © 2019 Leigh Russell
The right of Leigh Russell to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2019 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Also by Leigh Russell
The Adulterer’s Wife
Praise for Leigh Russell
The author had me hooked and intrigued very early on . Her style of writing is excellent. The story is very well put together with the characters and scenes flowing well. I'll definitely be reading other novels by her.
Donna Wilbor – Amazon Reviewer
Unable to put the book down. Fast-paced gripping storyline.
I have always enjoyed any books I have read by Leigh Russell.
Jenny Wren – Amazon Reviewer
The Adulterers Wife is a nice departure for Leigh Russell but she done so without losing that magic touch her fans have come to expect from her previous books. A well written, fast paced and engaging psychological thriller
Joanne Roberston – Goodreads Reviewer
For a first stab at psychological thriller, Leigh has done a damn good job, all that is left for Leigh to do is to go onwards and upwards, I’m sure her next psychological thriller will be bigger and better than the first.
Diane Hogg – Goodreads Reviewer
Chapter 1
The girl greeted us in a low voice, her English as flawless as her complexion.
‘Thank you, Mizuki, we’re pleased to meet you too,’ Nick replied, ‘and we’re very happy to be here.’
That was certainly true, as we had travelled a long way. Now that we had arrived, it seemed appropriate for my husband talk for both of us.
The Japanese girl was captivating, with alluring almond-shaped eyes in a pale oval face. Seemingly oblivious of my admiring gaze, she smiled politely at me and bowed. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Kelly, and welcome to Tokyo. I hope you had a good journey. I myself studied at boarding school in England. It was similar to your own, and I was very happy there.’
My husband beamed. He had recently been appointed headmaster of a public school in the Home Counties, and we had come to Japan to promote our establishment to parents of prospective students.
‘We mustn’t get carried away by the fees we can attract from wealthy Japanese families,’ Nick had explained to me before our trip. ‘We’re only interested in recruiting the most academically able pupils. It’s potential we’re looking for, potential.’ He was not telling me anything new, but I listened in silence, understanding that he was not speaking for my benefit. ‘We can’t take on too many pupils from overseas, but some of these kids are extremely clever, and they have an impressive work ethic.’
‘Unlike the home-grown variety,’ I murmured.
Nick grunted. ‘Not necessarily. But that’s not the point. We want to be able to select the best students from as wide a pool as possible.’
With boarding dwindling in popularity among English families, Nick’s predecessor had set about forging links with recruitment agencies in overseas territories. The purpose of our present trip was to strengthen our connection with the agency based in Tokyo and encourage them to continue recommending our school. If the numbers of families seeking to send their children to study in England was growing, so too was the competition from other public schools. So while I was excited about going to Japan, Nick remained focused on our objective.
‘This is business, not pleasure,’ he had insisted before we arrived in Tokyo.
I repeated his words in my head while Mizuki led us to our hotel room. As graceful in motion as she was exquisite at rest, she glided along the corridor in front of us. A European girl with her delicate figure might have looked unhealthy, but Mizuki’s tiny waist and narrow hips somehow gave an impression of femininity.
‘This is where you will be staying,’ our guide said, before she slipped away.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually in Japan,’ I said when Nick and I were finally alone, and he smiled at my enthusiasm.
Staring around the luxuriously appointed room, I felt my spirits soar. The decor was very simple, with drapes and bed linen matching the ivory-coloured walls. The absence of any clutter gave a sense of space and freedom, as though I was floating in the sky. Nick went over to the window to look out. I joined him and we stood, side by side, gazing out at the lights of Tokyo. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘we’re in Japan.’
That night I barely slept, excited by the strangeness of it all and slightly befuddled by jet lag. Taking everything in his stride, Nick snored softly all night long, a faint smile on his lips. The following morning he worked through breakfast in our room, responding to urgent emails and preparing for the day ahead.
It was very early when Mizuki arrived to accompany us to several well-known sites of Tokyo. In the colourful bustle of the Fish Market, our guide vanished from view only to reappear in front of us moments later, her movements unhurried and her smile enigmatic, as though she had never lost sight of us. After the commotion of the Fish Market, we visited intricate and spectacular temples, and beautiful manicured gardens where peace seemed to float above us like an invisible dome. Nick and I sat on a bench and he took my hand as though we were alone, yet all the time Mizuki hovered nearby, watching over us.
Meanwhile, we gazed around at the beautiful gardens, and at one another, as though we were on a second honeymoon. In a way more surprising than the spectacular tourist sites were some of the everyday sights. In contrast to humdrum grey manhole covers serving obscure functions in England, the manhole covers in Tokyo were works of art. More than merely colourful and decorative, they showed recognisable images such as a fireman with a hose, making them practical as well as beautiful. I was aware of the Japanese reputation for cleanliness, but the toilets in Tokyo took hygiene to a whole new level.
With her rapid speech and lively gesticulation, Suzuki seemed very excitable beside the other members of the Japanese team we had encountered: Mizuki with her serene grace, and Mr Tanaka, silent and smiling. The director and I sat quietly as Nick and Suzuki discussed requirements, laid out expectations, and negotiated terms, while Mizuki waited patiently to serve tea.
Seated beside Nick on the plane home, I listened to him chatting cheerfully about our visit. It felt as though we had been away for months, although the whole trip had lasted little more than a week. As far as Nick was concerned, it had been a resounding success.
‘At any rate, we’re likely to attract a few very strong candidates as a direct result of our visit. Tanaka was definitely impressed,’ he said. ‘I’m confident the governors will agree it was worthwhile.’
Nodding my agreement, I smiled. Nick tended to be confident about everything, but his positive attitude had not done us any harm.
‘It was certainly very different there,’ I replied. ‘It makes you realise what a culture shock it must be for pupils arriving from overseas. Perhaps we should introduce some kind of buddy system to help them settle in.’
‘That’s definitely something we ought to look into. Someone friendly who speaks the same language can make a huge difference. Perhaps that’s something we can discuss with our Japanese agent over here. And we should ask her to write to Mr Tanaka and tell him our door is always open to any of his employees who visit the UK.’
‘You can leave it to me to draft an email, if you like.’
Nick smiled. He was an attractive man, with penetrating blue eyes that seemed to hold a hint of mischief even when he was looking serious. Sometimes I felt a flutter of desire just looking at his lean body, his biceps straining the fabric of his shirt sleeves. Now that he was a headmaster, he had acquired the added allure of power and I returned his smile, thinking how lucky we were to have found each other.
Chapter 2
I watched Rosie as she glanced around Nick’s study, taking in the high bookshelves and imposing leather-topped desk. Her eyes lingered on a vase of tall lilies, waxlike against the high window, before looking past them to admire the view.
‘You know, I’ve driven past here so many times, but I never stopped to find out what’s hidden away behind those high walls,’ she said. ‘You’d think a journalist would be more curious.’
‘I hope you like what you’ve seen so far.’
She nodded. ‘I can’t believe I never so much as poked my head through the gates before. It’s magnificent.’
She was right; the grounds of the school had been designed to impress. My husband’s windows looked out across a cricket pitch where we could see boys practising against a backdrop of rhododendrons and overhanging lilacs. It was not yet June but summer had come early and, in the halcyon May sunshine, the scene was an Arcadian idyll of innocence and tranquillity.
‘It’s quintessentially English,’ she added, gazing through the window.
‘We like to think so,’ I replied. ‘Certainly we try to send our boys out into the world armed with a clear sense of right and wrong.’
The words I had heard so often in my husband’s speeches sounded pompous on my lips. As I hesitated, wondering whether to continue, the sound of cheering reached us faintly from the cricket pitch.
‘Someone’s out,’ Rosie said.
‘You’re familiar with the rules of the game?’
She smiled at my raised eyebrows. ‘I know someone who’s a keen amateur.’
I turned to glance through the window at the boys on the far pitch. Doubtless grass stained and grubby, from this distance their whites appeared immaculate. Even the disused cricket pavilion looked picturesque in the glow of the afternoon sunlight.
Rosie’s voice recalled me from my musings. ‘You’ve talked a lot about the benefits of life in a public school.’ Suddenly brisk, she brushed her long dark fringe out of her eyes and fixed me with a penetrating stare. ‘You’ve told me how pleased you are with the house that comes with the job, the overseas travel to market the school, and the gardens here which I can see are truly spectacular. Now,’ she leaned forward, an encouraging smile softening her narrow features, ‘what can you tell me about the disadvantages? You must be planning to make some changes.’
Thrown off my script by the unexpected direction the interview was taking, I shook my head.
‘Don’t tell me there aren’t even a few little niggles.’
She must have known I would be too well prepared to speak freely to a journalist.
‘Really, there aren’t any downsides. My husband has an important and demanding job as headmaster, and I’m happy to support him. Naturally he’s planning some changes, but I’m sure he talked about them when you interviewed him.’
‘What kind of changes are we talking about?’
‘He intends to modernise the facilities here.’
‘Yes, but I’m not asking you about the buildings, or about your husband’s plans. I want to know about you, Louise Kelly, the woman behind the public image. You gave up your own job as an IT teacher when your husband was appointed headmaster of Edleybury, didn’t you? How did you feel about your career being sidelined?’
Actually, it had been a welcome respite to take a break and devote myself to my new role. Apart from my duties as the headmaster’s wife, and the demands of settling into a new area, finding the shops, and overseeing the running of our home, there were people to charm, as Nick put it. In reality, he was the charmer, not me, with his glib tongue and ready wit, inherited no doubt from an Irish grandfather. By contrast, I was introverted, although teaching had helped to bring me out of my shell. You cannot survive long in a classroom without opening your mouth. If it had not been for Nick’s plans, teaching would probably not have been my chosen job, but we had agreed that my experience of the profession would help to further his career, and that decision had paid off.
‘It’s true. I’ve taken a break from teaching because my duties as the headmaster’s wife are keeping me busy,’ I replied. ‘I may go back once we’re settled, but for the moment we’re focusing our energies on establishing ourselves. We haven’t even completed our first year, and so far we’ve spent most of our time here on the school site. Over the summer, we plan to explore the area.’
‘You’re not from Hertfordshire are you?’
‘No. But we really like what we’ve seen of it so far,’ I said politely.
‘You certainly seem to enjoy being married to the head of such a busy and flourishing school.’
I smiled my appreciation, relieved that she appeared to have dropped her slightly intrusive line of questioning, and hoping she would use those words to describe Edleybury in her article in the Hertfordshire Style magazine.
‘Was it a difficult adjustment from being a class teacher? Do you miss the contact with pupils?’
‘You know, I wouldn’t put it like that, because I do see a lot of the boys and girls here.’
I trotted out my prepared response, and she smiled and nodded and checked her recording device. Easing into our new roles had been relatively straightforward, I said, thanks to the wonderful support we had received, and continued to receive, from the rest of the staff. We were particularly grateful, I said, to the deputy head, David Lancaster, and to my husband’s secretary, Sue, both of whom had exceeded their duties by assisting and advising me as well as Nick.
‘Helping you is really the same as helping Nick,’ Sue had insisted when I attempted to thank her for spending time with me. ‘It’s all part of my job. I’m more than happy to do whatever I can to m
ake the transition a smooth one.’ She smiled kindly at me. ‘We’re all in this together.’ It was the kind of comment Nick would have made.
Sue was the person who explained to me how the school had been run before our arrival, and how much, or how little, the previous headmaster’s wife had involved herself in the daily affairs.
I repeated to Rosie what I had already told Sue, that I wanted to be as active as possible in supporting my husband.
‘I get that,’ Rosie replied with another smile. ‘I’d be the same if I were in your position. And with your own career taking a back seat, how are you keeping yourself occupied? Perhaps hoping to start a family?’
Suppressing my indignation at the personal nature of her question, I continued our exchange of professional smiles. The years I had spent teaching had trained me to keep my feelings under control, at least outwardly. A successful teacher would make an effective poker player, or a spy. As the wife of a headmaster, it was more important than ever before to present an appropriate façade to the world. Besides, Rosie was there to interview me about being married to a head teacher. My private life was no concern of hers. Holding back from telling her exactly what she could do with her impertinent questions, I gave a measured response. Nick and I had to present ourselves to the world as a dignified and sympathetic couple, perfectly suited to leading and moulding young minds.
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