Chapter 16
After mulling over my meeting with Ms. Bowerton, I’m even more worried about my position at Ashbourne. I know I could get another job teaching somewhere else, but I don’t want to.
My plan had been to stay in England, teaching for a few years at least. If all of this awfulness hadn’t happened, I would be quite content. The school is lovely. I like my colleagues and there’s also Malcolm. But the entire experience has been tainted and now possibly over too soon. The only thing I can do to help myself is find out who killed Brigg and Frank.
The only clue I’ve found that seems like it might lead somewhere are the adoption papers. I spend a little while doing internet searches on all the names and places listed, but I don’t really come up with anything, which is strange. The only thing I find is a phone number and address for the couple that adopted the baby.
Maybe I’m looking at all of this the wrong way. Maybe I should look into Frank’s life and not Brigg’s. I’m uncomfortable with this thought, though. From what I knew of him, Frank seemed like a nice man and Brigg sounded awful. If you know someone was a bad person, it’s not as morally questionable to dig into their past.
This brings me back to the adoption papers. I decide the only thing I can do is travel to Manchester next weekend and see if I can speak to the couple from the papers. It’s possible they have nothing to do with any of this, but either way I need to find out.
Later that evening, when I’m talking to Malcolm, he suggests going with me to Manchester. Not only is this awesome because I’ll be able to see him, but on the practical side, it solves the problem of not having a car.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask again.
“Not at all. I miss you,” Malcolm says.
“I miss you too, but it’s so much driving for you.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll take Monday off from work. I’ll drive to yours Friday night, we’ll drive to Manchester Saturday, drive back to yours on Sunday, then I’ll drive home Monday morning.”
“Okay. That sounds great!” I say. We talk a little longer about what we should do in Manchester, and then Malcolm has to go.
This makes this hair-brained trip much more enticing. Now, even if I don’t figure anything out about what the adoption papers mean, at least I’ll get to spend the weekend with Malcolm.
* * * * *
My week is filled with thoughts of ways to be a better teacher so that Ms. Bowerton doesn’t fire me and feeling angry at myself for feeling like I need to change my teaching style to keep my job. I know I’m a good teacher. By Friday, I can’t wait to get away from the school, even if it’s just overnight.
Malcolm calls and tells me not to worry about dinner, he’ll pick something up on the way. I appreciate the gesture, but this means I’m just pacing around my apartment with nothing to keep myself occupied. I try reading but give that up after realizing I’ve been reading the same paragraph four or five times.
Malcolm won’t be here for another hour, so I decide to go for a quick walk around campus. I need to do something with this nervous energy. At least I’ll be out in the fresh air instead of pacing in my apartment. It’s chilly but not cold, and all the lights are coming on along the walkways because it’s dusk.
I plan to just do a big loop around the outside of campus, but then I see Freya walking with Ms. Bowerton. That’s odd. From what Freya has said, she tries to steer clear of the headmistress. I’m so curious that I follow them.
I watch as they walk along the path toward the staff parking lot. I can’t hear anything they’re saying, but Freya is gesticulating wildly with her hands, which I suppose isn’t that odd for Freya. Freya says something else to Ms. Bowerton and then gets in her car. Too late, I realize that Ms. Bowerton is turning back in my direction.
I whip myself around and head back towards my apartment. I speed walk back, telling myself that I’m being ridiculous. It would be a perfectly natural thing for me to be outside walking around campus. There was no need to run away. If she saw me, running off seems even more suspicious.
And I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for Freya having a conversation with Ms. Bowerton. They were probably talking about a student. I’m becoming suspicious of everyone around me. I need to relax. As soon as I get home, I pour myself a glass of wine, turn on some soft music and vow to only think about Malcolm tonight.
By the time he arrives fifteen minutes later, I’m feeling better. We enjoy the delicious takeout curry he brought, along with a banoffee pie. Then we head to the bedroom for the rest of the night, and I don’t think about anything else.
* * * * *
I sleep better than I have in weeks and wake up feeling more confident that I’ll find something out in Manchester. Malcolm eats breakfast while I pick at mine, still nervous about what we’re about to do, then I pack my overnight bag. It’s a little over three hours, so we should be there late morning. Malcolm and I spend the drive discussing various scenarios for introducing ourselves to Mr and Mrs Schneider, the adoptive parents.
We agree to tell them we’re trying to adopt and the adoption agency mentioned they might share their experience with us. I don’t know if this is something that an adoption agency would do. They would probably never give out someone’s information like that without letting them know beforehand, but it’s the best we’ve come up with.
We drive straight to the Schneiders’ house as soon as we reach Manchester. I’m getting more and more nervous. I just want to get this over with. It’s a lovely house. Big, but not ostentatious. The lawn and trees look well-cared for and there’s a car sitting in the driveway. I hope that means someone is home. I’ve only just thought of the possibility of the Schneiders being out of town.
“Okay, are you ready?” Malcolm asks, turning to me after he parks.
“No, but I need to get this figured out.”
“We’ll be fine. Just follow my lead,” he says before giving me a kiss and getting out of the car.
I scramble out after him, and we walk together up to the front door. I ring the doorbell and I’m relieved/terrified when a short woman with her hair pulled back in a ponytail answers the door.
“Hi, Mrs Schneider?” Malcolm asks.
“Yes?” she answers. She looks like she might be in her mid-fifties.
“Hi, my name is Max Campbell, and this is my wife, Allison. We received your name from Adoption is Love. They said you might share your experience with us. We probably should have called first, but we just happened to be in Manchester and thought we could drop by,” Malcolm says. “If this isn’t a convenient time, we could travel back to Manchester another day.”
“No, um, it’s not that,” she says, looking uncertain.
“I’m sorry. We probably seem crazy, just stopping by like this. We should go honey,” I say, pulling Malcolm’s arm. This was a terrible idea.
“No, no. It’s okay. My husband is out, but should be home soon,” Mrs. Schneider says, looking down the road, hopefully. “Come in.”
She leads us to the first room, a parlor furnished with comfortable, modern furniture. Malcolm and I sit together on the sofa, while Mrs. Schneider sits in a chair across from us.
“So, what exactly do you want me to tell you?” she asks.
“We were just hoping you could share with us a little about how your adoption process worked. We’ve started the process, but it’s a little overwhelming, so anything you could tell us would be helpful,” Malcolm says.
“Well, I can tell you it was the best decision we ever made,” Mrs Schneider says, her face lighting up. “After years of trying to have a child, we finally decided to adopt, and that’s how we ended up with our beautiful Julie. That’s her in all the photos.”
Mrs Schneider points to the framed photos covering a side table and the large family photo hanging on the wall. There’s a blond, blue-eyed girl riding a horse as a little girl, sitting in front of a Christmas tree around ten and dressed in a formal dress as a teenager. There�
��s something about her that’s vaguely familiar.
“She’s lovely. How old is she now?” I ask.
“She’s seventeen. She’s attending Ashbourne Ladies College but will head off to university next year.”
I cough in an attempt to cover the shock that I’m sure is all over my face. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.
“Would you like a glass of water?” Mrs Schneider asks.
“No, I’m fine. Just a little tickle,” I say.
“So did you find your adoption of Julie to be a smooth process?” Malcolm asks, getting us back on track.
“Yes, mostly. The mother wanted a closed adoption and didn’t even want us to know her name or where she was from. It made me so sad for Julie, that her mother couldn’t take care of her, but I’m also so thankful that my husband and I could give her a family.”
Malcolm continues asking plausible questions while I sit, trying not to become too distracted by my churning thoughts. Occasionally, I say something in agreement with him, and Mrs Schneider seems so caught up talking about Julie that she doesn’t notice.
“I hope your own adoption will work out as well as ours did,” Mrs Schneider says as we say our goodbyes.
“I hope so, too. Thank you so much for allowing us into your home and answering our questions,” I say.
“Yes, thank you. I hope we didn’t inconvenience you too much,” Malcolm.
“Not at all. I always enjoy talking about my Julie,” she says. She waves to us until we’ve backed out of the driveway.
“Well, that was interesting,” Malcolm says. “I bet that wasn’t what you expected to find that out.”
“I had no idea what I was going to find out, but that would probably be the last thing I would have guessed. I think I’m still trying to make sense of it,” I say. “So Professor Brigg had adoption papers hidden in his office for a girl that lives in Manchester, but just happens to go to Ashbourne.”
“Ashbourne is quite small, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and exclusive. It’s difficult to get into. You either have to be exceptionally smart and talented or know all the right people. I don’t see how it can be coincidental, but what does it mean?” I ask.
“While you ponder that, I’m going to find somewhere to stop for lunch.”
“That would be great. I’m starving now that lying to sweet Mrs. Schneider is over,” I say. I sit back in my seat, considering the name Julie Schneider. I know she isn’t in any of my classes, but I’m sure I’ve seen her around campus. I just can’t remember in what context.
“How’s this?” Malcolm says, interrupting my thoughts.
“That looks great,” I say, barely looking at the restaurant he’s pulled up in front of.
“Hey,” Malcolm says, stopping me before I get out of the car. “I know this is the reason we drove to Manchester and that you have a lot on your mind, but I came down from Scotland to see you so I wouldn’t mind a little of your attention.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting back. “You’re completely right. And I’m so glad you’re here. I’ll put it out of my head until you go home.”
I grab his face and give him a hearty kiss, then we go into the pub. We both order beers along with fish and chips. I need some comfort food right now. I’m terrible at lying to people and I hate having to mislead someone like Mrs. Schneider.
After lunch, we walk around Manchester. I knew nothing about the city before we arrived. It’s incredibly beautiful with amazing Gothic architecture. Then Malcolm drives us to The John Rylands Library, and I never want to leave. It is incredible. We walk around, looking at the soaring ceilings and the amazing book collections. By the time we leave the magnificent library, I’ve completely forgotten about figuring out what Julie Schneider has to do with anything.
Chapter 17
We find a charming bed-and-breakfast with an attached pub to stay the night at. We enjoy a rowdy dinner in the pub with some other guests, along with a large table of locals. This table of older gentleman roars with laughter as they share colorful stories about each other. Malcolm and I spend most of dinner listening in and quietly laughing along.
“That was a fun dinner,” I say once we’re back in our room. “I really enjoy going to pubs. It’s almost like being a guest in someone’s house.”
Malcolm frowns, thinking. “I’ve never thought of it that way before, but I guess you’re right.”
“Pubs are such a tradition here. I don’t know if there are any places like that in the US. At least none that I’ve been to.”
“That is a travesty,” Malcolm says, pulling me close. “But I know what will make you feel better.”
He kisses me and the longer it goes on, the better I feel until I’ve forgotten all about how sad the lack of pubs in America is.
* * * * *
We have a leisurely lie-in the next morning and then have breakfast at the inn dining room. It’s a full English breakfast, and it’s delicious. Malcolm and I gorge ourselves before getting in the car and driving back to Ashbourne. I feel like I’m glowing after last night.
The drive back flies by while we play a non-drinking version of Never Have I Ever. I learn that Malcolm’s never been to the US, he’s never read a book by Jane Austen, and he’s never ridden a bicycle. I also learn his favorite books and movies are The Lord of the Rings series, and he’s extremely close to his family.
It’s late afternoon when we pull into the staff parking lot. I have nothing planned for us to do, but that seems to be fine. I’m never bored when I’m with Malcolm. We eat dinner, then Malcolm wants to watch the Lord of the Rings movies. He’s quite concerned that I’ve only seen the first one.
I put up with this for a little while, but then I insist on having his full attention. We leave the movie playing, but we’re no longer watching it. After-wards I fall asleep, but I’m pretty sure he stays up watching the rest.
The next morning I let Malcolm sleep in while I shower and then cook some oatmeal. He doesn’t have to go to work today, but I have to get to Monday morning assembly and then my classes. I tell him to stay as long as he wants, then I kiss him goodbye.
It’s a little easier telling him goodbye and heading out to work. Working is a good distraction, although I know I won’t be able to keep myself from remembering some of the best parts of the weekend. So far, I haven’t found out anything about him that raises a red flag. Dating long distance is tough, but right now I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.
* * * * *
Ms. Bowerton has an assembly every Monday morning before classes to highlight any upcoming events for the week, to share any announcements, and to give a pep talk to the girls. Normally my mind wanders a little during assemblies. I think about my upcoming classes or my to-do list. But, I spend this Monday’s assembly trying to spot Julie Schneider.
This is tricky because most of the staff have to sit in the first two rows in the chapel. I think I’m being surreptitious until Freya tilts her head toward me and hisses, “Who are you looking for?”
“No one,” I whisper back, but I can tell by the look she gives me she doesn’t believe me.
After invading Mrs Brigg’s house, I’ve been trying to keep Freya, Samantha, and Cat out of this mess, but that will probably be impossible. Still, I don’t turn around again for the rest of the assembly, hoping Freya will forget and not ask me about it later.
After we’re all dismissed, we hustle off to our classroom for the day. I know I don’t have Julie in class, but I still look for her in the hallway between classes. I attempt to be nonchalant, standing in my doorway peering at students’ faces, giving up when my students arrive for class.
I’m planning to head straight to my apartment after my last class, but as I’m packing up, Freya knocks on my door.
“Hey, Alice. How were classes today?”
“Fine. How about yours?” I ask, snapping my bag closed and turning towards the door.
“Good. I just wanted to pop over and make sure you�
��re okay. You seemed bothered at assembly this morning.”
“No, I’m good. Sometimes I find the assemblies a little boring, so I play little games. This morning I was trying to see how many students' names I know.”
Freya laughs as we walk outside. “I see. I’ve definitely counted all the windows in the chapel many times.”
“I try to pay attention, but sometimes it’s difficult,” I say. Then I remember I needed to ask Frey something. “I keep forgetting to ask you, but are you okay?”
“I’m brilliant. Why?”
“I was taking a walk on Friday and saw you talking to Ms. Bowerton. You told me you try to steer clear of her, so I was worried that… I don’t know.” I probably shouldn’t have brought this up.
“You were worried that I was in trouble?” Freya asks with a laugh.
“No, just, I was curious, I guess.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to be curious. You might think I’m up to no good. Or maybe even the murderer.”
“Freya, don’t be like that. You’re always in everyone’s business, so I don’t think it should upset you that I asked what you and the headmistress were talking about,” I say. I immediately realize I’ve gone too far when Freya’s face darkens.
“I’ll stay out of your business from now on then,” she says, opening the door to the staff housing and then slamming it in my face.
My heart is racing, and I have a lump in my throat. Why did I say she’s in everyone’s business? Now she’s furious with me.
I look up and see Samantha and Cat walking towards me. Great. They probably heard the whole thing, which makes it even worse.
“Don’t worry about it,” Cat says, stopping beside me. “Sometimes Freya can get in a temper. She’ll cool off.”
“She’s not really upset with you. Her Gran is sick and Ms. Bowerton doesn’t want to give her time off to visit her,” Samantha says, as they walk inside together.
Now I feel worse. That’s probably what she was talking to the headmistress about on Friday. This stupid investigation is making me paranoid. And now I’ve upset one of my only friends.
Murder Most Studious Page 13