‘There’s no one around. It’s just us! Come on, you’re being paranoid.’ But when she went to kiss him again, he put his hand to her shoulder and gently but firmly pushed her away.

Confused now, she went on: ‘Well, let’s go somewhere then. Let’s go to the house—’

‘No way.’

‘Let’s take a drive. Go back to that place in Wicklow. It’s been ages since we’ve been there.’

He was looking out the front window, concentrating on the water tower that rose up in the distance.

‘Eva,’ he said, and from the ponderous tone, she knew what was coming. ‘I think we need to cool it, don’t you?’

She sat back, stunned. ‘Okay,’ she said, cautiously. ‘For how long?’

He winced, still not looking at her. ‘It’s been fun, but this is all getting out of hand. I’m a married man, for Christ’s sake. And you should be concentrating on your education, knuckling down to some study.’

Fun? Is that all she was to him? Just some plaything to distract himself from his stagnant marriage, the boredom that threaded through his days? Anger rumbled up inside her. All she had missed for him, everything she had sacrificed. She looked at him there in the car, still refusing to meet her gaze. He didn’t even have the guts to look her in the eye while he dumped her. His cowardice in that moment appalled her.

‘You can’t even look at me!’ she hissed.

And then she got out of the car, slamming the door so hard she feared it might come off its hinges. It cut off the sound of his voice uttering her name, and she knew he was sitting there, watching her the whole time she walked away.

29

The rumour grew.

What had started as a small seed planted on the internet gained traction, gathering pace as the nugget of gossip whizzed along school corridors as well and crackled through the cyber-paths. Whispers by the lockers became full-blown accusations; what was once just speculation acquired the varnish of truth.

It had begun in September, but it was almost the end of October by the time it reached Abi.

‘A what?’

‘A pregnancy rumour,’ Helen Bracken said briskly down the line.

‘About Beth?’

‘No. Not about Beth, about another student – Sasha Harte.’ The coldness in her voice was unmistakable. She went on: ‘The rumour that’s been circulating is that Sasha had some kind of romantic tryst in France this summer when on the exchange programme and that it has resulted in a pregnancy. Let me be clear, Abi, there is absolutely no foundation to this rumour.’