Beverly spent most of the afternoon dodging the three women from the bathroom and Jamie with his endless alcohol supply. It didn’t take her long to realise most in the main hall had brought booze with them. The good thing about this was they were all using bags or backpacks for their drinks. She’d thought carrying the bag within a bag would make her stand out from the crowd, but there were no worries about that now.
She’d spent time listening to music she disliked, so, encouraged by the knowledge of what she was about to do and ignoring the wide stares and whispered insults, she strode up to the DJ. He wasn’t a student from their year group; he looked about eighteen, and she didn’t recognise him. Even though they were indoors with little light, he wore wraparound shades and a permanent grimace. She gave him her perfect fake smile.
‘Do you take requests?’
‘What?’ he shovelled his hips to one side as if about to perform a slow-motion jig.
‘Can you play some music I might like?’
He grinned and removed his glasses. His eyes were bloodshot and full of liquid as he winked at her.
‘Sure, darling; what da ya fancy?’
‘Do you have anything by La Roux?’
Eminem was warbling about killing somebody when the DJ gave her the thumbs up. ‘I’ve got plenty of golden oldies in here, sweetheart. I’ll find something for ya.’
She wandered away, pondering what the place would look like when two sets of explosives went off, not to mention the contents of the boilers below her feet.
It was dead on half-past three when Principal Claudia Conway entered the fray, making her way around her many ex-students, most of whose enjoyment dissipated when they saw her. She smiled and shook hands while they nodded and forced their lips upwards. Twenty minutes later, she was at Beverly’s side at the far end next to some empty tables. She continued smiling while all but one of her former charges looked away from her.
‘I’ve got a present for you.’ She placed something in Beverly’s hand.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a short-wave wireless detonator, which works a bit like a Bluetooth device. Put the other detonator in the bag with the C4.’
Ghostly dry nails scratched at the inside of her throat. ‘Why do I need this? What’s wrong with the other one?’
Conway gripped Beverly’s fingers as she spoke. ‘Unfortunately, and I only discovered it this morning, the original detonators, mine as well, are that old, they’re only fifty per cent reliable. And we can’t have that, can we?’ She tilted her head to the side and let go of her hand.
‘I suppose not.’
‘It works on the same signal as the other one, and I’ve already set it for you. There’s just a little problem.’
Rihanna’s Only Girl in the World burst forth from the speakers.
‘What problem?’
‘The distance for the connection is shorter. So, you need to get closer to the bag.’
‘How close?’ In her mind was a scene from some old movie of a man’s head exploding.
‘Well, make sure you’re away from the centre of the room because of the explosives underneath. For your detonation, get at least a hundred yards from it, and you should be okay.’
‘I should be okay?’
‘It’s not an exact science, Beverly. How brave are you prepared to be for your cause?’
She pushed out her cheeks and let out a large gasp of air. ‘I haven’t worked out where to put the bag yet.’ She glanced at the massive clock on the wall showing it was ten to four.
Conway took two steps forward. ‘You’ll place it under the table you’re leaning against, behind that nice white cloth which will cover it. I’ve ordered a reunion cake to be delivered at half-past four, and it’ll go on that table. It’s a perfect spot for your surprise package.’
Beverly slipped the detonator into her pocket, her fingers brushing across her face as if to wipe new life into her head.
‘And how am I supposed to get it under there without anyone noticing?’
Conway checked the time on her watch. ‘At four o’clock, the DJ will stop the music, and I’m going to step on stage, attract everyone’s attention, and give a speech telling them how proud of them I am. Nobody will dare take their eyes from me. Go to your office now, get the bag, and be ready to put it under the table when I start talking. Can you do that?’
If their relationship had ever been one of equal partners, it was back to teacher and student now. Beverly nodded and stepped across the floor and out of the hall as the music changed to Kesha. She wanted to run to her office, her legs threatening to take over the rest of her body, but she kept control.
Then she turned the corner and walked straight into Evie Church.
‘Ow,’ Evie said as they bumped heads.
Beverly raised trembling fingers to her face, her lips quivering. Behind them in the main hall, the music stopped.
‘I’m… I’m… sorry.’
The words stumbled out of Beverly’s mouth as they stared at each other.
‘No,’ Evie said. ‘It’s my fault. I never intended to be this late. Have I missed much?’
Beverly couldn’t take her eyes off Evie, the unwanted images in her head coming quickly: the Glick sisters in the Church house; the photos she’d taken of them; two girls in that basement, her fingers around the older girl’s throat while the younger one froze in terror. Then the image changed and it was a different two girls in that basement, and the terror was someone else’s.
‘There’s a cake coming soon.’
Beverly blurted the words out and turned towards her office. She marched there without looking back, the key in her hand as she fumbled the door open. The clock on her desk said it was one minute to four.
She fell into the chair, every part of her shaking, but the tremors were worst in her heart and brain. The bag inside a bag sat at her feet. She reached into her pocket, removed the old charger, and dropped it on top of the explosives.
It was fate. Evie was there. If she’d had doubts about her actions, they were knocked from her by that bump on the head. She grabbed the bag and locked the door behind her. There was no one in the corridor and no sight of Evie. As she reached the main hall entrance and glanced inside, it was five past four. Conway was in the centre of the stage, lording over all those below her.
She scanned the crowd and every eye was on their former teacher. The hall was also darker than when she had been there before. The principal must have turned the lights down to put the spotlight on her. It was clear now for Beverly to get to the table and hide the bag. But there was no sign of Evie, and that worried her.
Her fingers hurt as she clutched on to the bag, her legs throbbed as she made her way around the outside of the hall. She saw Conway holding sway over the group of twenty-somethings. Her lips kept moving, but Beverly didn’t hear what she said over the noise of drums beating against the insides of her skull.
It was ten past four when she reached the table. She bent her legs, her bones creaking as she did so, and pushed the bag under it. She made sure the cloth covered it and strode towards the back of the crowd.
‘I wish you all the best for the future,’ Conway said as the lights came up and the strains of Bulletproof by La Roux swirled around the hall. If she’d expected spontaneous applause, she didn’t get it. Beverly noticed movement to her right, turning to see delivery people carrying the biggest cake she’d ever seen. It had ten levels to it, with enough sugar to destroy a thousand lives. The crowd started to disperse and watch the cake being carried to the empty tables.
It’s too heavy for the table. It’ll break, and they’ll see what’s underneath it.
The muscles in Beverly’s legs throbbed to the rhythm of the music. Some people were dancing, their bodies skipping to the beat as the delivery people inched towards the table. There were six of them carrying the cake, and she wondered why they hadn’t wheeled the behemoth in. They placed it over two tables, and she was sure she heard the strain of wood about to break until she realised the sound was only in her head.
Somehow, without Beverly seeing how she got there, Conway was next to the cake with a large knife in her hand. The delivery people dumped a load of paper plates on the table, and then left. Conway started slicing into the giant sweet treat and passed the slices out on plates. Beverly could have moved away from all of them, reached the door, and then set the detonator off. The thick plastic was sticking to her leg inside her trouser pocket.
Conway glanced at her as she handed out the cake, and Beverly understood their destinies were linked together. Perhaps they always had been.
‘If you don’t get some of it, there’ll be none left soon.’
Evie Church was at her side. Behind her, looming large on the wall, the clock ticked towards fifteen minutes to five.
Where has all the time gone?
Conway departed the half-drunk crowd swarming around the table and made her way out of the hall.
She’s going to the boiler room. I need to get away from this spot.
Beverly turned to Evie. ‘There’s far too much sugar in that for me. But you should have some.’
‘I didn’t come here to eat.’
Beverly’s fingers went to her pocket, her nails touching the top of the detonator. ‘Then why are you here? It can’t be to reconnect with all your old friends from our school.’
‘I’m guessing it’s the same reason why you’re here, Beverly.’
She slipped the detonator into her palm so it rested against her scar. Beverly hid behind her fingers as she pulled her hand from her pocket. The music changed as the clock ticked to ten minutes to five. She was fewer than twenty feet from the explosives, perhaps ten from the middle of the main hall. Dozens of people were dancing there; probably thirty more were drinking and chatting near the cake.
‘And why am I here, Evie?’
Did she know about the explosives or what happened to Kennedy? Or was she there about the Glick girls?
Evie tilted her head towards the DJ, her eyes narrowing in confusion. ‘I know this song, but can’t remember what it is.’
‘It’s In for the Kill by La Roux.’
Evie smacked her hands together. ‘That’s it!’
The hairs on the back of Beverly’s hand tingled as if touched by static electricity. ‘It was nice to see you again, Evie. I’m glad you finally made it out of that home, but I have to go now.’
She turned to walk towards the exit. Would that be a safe distance and close enough to trigger the explosives?
‘You’re here because you wanted to look people in the eyes and let them know you survived.’
Beverly froze to the spot. The clock on the wall moved in slow motion to six minutes to five. The whole of her was cold, even though sweat dribbled down her forehead.
‘Survived?’
Evie stepped closer to her. ‘Yes, you survived their insults and their anger. And you survived your accident.’
Beverly held out her hand and released the grip from her fingers. The detonator lay in the middle of her palm. She couldn’t see the clock, but it could have been no more than two minutes to five.
‘Accident?’
She was waiting for Evie to reply, her finger close to the trigger, when something crashed into the doors behind them.