He’d planned to go in, but had changed his mind on the drive. He’d progressed up the league table at a pace and life was sweet. He was living in the swanky apartment of Harriet Goodway, the woman he’d selected in the lobby of The Principal Hotel, and was gradually siphoning money from her savings account. He’d infiltrated her small group of friends and was creating as much conflict and chaos as possible. He was pretty confident he could get Harriet’s closest friend into bed.

It was liberating to be living life on his own terms and finally using his talents. It would be foolish to walk back into his old life with Libby. He would have to give up this freedom, sacrifice the thrills. And in the eyes of his competitors, he would be a dropout. And he never wanted to be a dropout again.

So he sat in the car park with a hat pulled low over his forehead and waited. He just needed one look at his son and then he would leave.

27

Like butter wouldn’t melt. Her granny used to say it all the time, but Seraphine hadn’t understood before.

‘I know what you mean by “outstanding”,’ Seraphine said. ‘I found your PhD thesis.’

She’d expected an apology. That was what usually happened when she caught someone out. But Bloom simply sat and smiled, like butter wouldn’t melt.

‘I said I know what you mean. I know what you’ve been doing.’

‘And what is that, Seraphine?’ said Dr Bloom, her smile fixed in place.

‘Trying to catch me out. You’ve been trying to trick me.’

Dr Bloom tilted her head a little to the left. ‘And why would I do that?’

She was so calm. Why was she so calm? Seraphine felt herself growing angrier and angrier. ‘So you can tell my parents and my teachers and the police probably.’

‘I see,’ replied Dr Bloom. ‘Let me reassure you that I won’t be doing any of those things.’

Seraphine stared, but Dr Bloom didn’t react. Again, this was unusual. People almost always looked away from Seraphine’s stare.

Dr Bloom leaned forward in her chair. ‘What do you think I mean by “outstanding”?’

‘That I’m some kind of monster.’

‘And why would you think that?’

‘Because that’s who you studied … serial-killer psychos.’

Bloom sat back and finally frowned. ‘No, I didn’t. I studied teenagers and young adults with specific traits. They were not serial killers; none of them had ever committed a murder.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m interested in what it takes to be human. And I wanted to study one extreme aspect of mankind, one that I think is very revealing.’

‘No. Not that. I mean why didn’t they murder anyone?’

‘Because they chose not to.’

‘Or maybe no one pissed them off enough.’

Bloom’s lips curled just a little. ‘Or that – yes.’