I said, and I’d stopped caring about keeping it down, ‘You’re doing exactly what Mackey wants you to do. He wants me gone because he’s scared Holly’ll talk to me. You can’t see that?’ Nothing on Conway’s face. ‘He tried it on me, too: bitched about you, hoped I’d walk. You think I took any notice?’

‘Course you didn’t. You want to shake your booty in front of O’Kelly; doesn’t matter whose case you piggyback on to get there. Me, I’ve got something to lose here. And I’m not having you lose it for me.’

Kennedy never saw it coming. At least you won’t get blindsided like he did. If you honestly haven’t got a strategy, you might want to get one fast . . .

I gave Conway my phone number. She swung the door closed in my face.

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

One of Julia’s more impressive talents has always been the ability to barf at will. It was cooler back in primary school, before anybody noticed that public puking might not be particularly dignified – it even earned her a decent chunk of dosh, one way and another – but it hasn’t totally lost its usefulness since then. She just saves it for special occasions, these days.

Tuesday morning, April 23rd, Chris Harper has just over three weeks left to live. Julia eats the biggest and most varied breakfast she can handle, because an artiste has her pride, then waits till the middle of Home Economics and barfs pyrotechnically all over the classroom floor. Orla Burgess is within range, but Julia resists temptation: her plan doesn’t include Orla being sent back to the boarders’ wing to change. As Miss Rooney shoos her towards the nurse’s office, Julia – clutching her stomach – catches a flash of Holly and Becca baffled, Selena gazing out of the window like she hasn’t even noticed anything happening; Joanne’s flat-eyed smirk while she plans how to spread the word that that slut Julia Harte is pregnant; and Gemma giving her a look like a wink, amused and approving.

She does wobbly legs and some mild gagging for the nurse, answers the usual questions about her period – you could break your leg and the nurse would still want to know when your last period was; Julia suspects that being a day overdue would get you ratted out to the nuns for interrogation – and a few minutes later she’s all tucked up in bed with a glass of flat ginger ale and a pathetic look. And the nurse leaves her alone.