Ramsay 04 - Killjoy by Ann Cleeves

background?’
    ‘Not willingly.’ Ellie Smith became earnest. Hunter thought she would be competent, caring, too idealistic perhaps for her own good. ‘When I first became her tutor I asked about her parents. I try to get to know the kids as individuals. She told me that they’d been killed in a car crash when she was young and she’d been brought up by relatives. I never met her guardian. For the past year she’s been living with friends in Otterbridge.’
    ‘Yes,’ Hunter said. ‘Did she tell you why she left home?’
    ‘No. She was very quiet at about that time, rather withdrawn, but she never talked about problems with her family. I wasn’t too worried about her. I’d met Prue Bennett several times through courses at the Grace Darling and she seemed a perfect substitute. Gabby was obviously happy there so I never pried.’
    ‘You had no indication recently that Gabby had been worried about anything?’
    ‘No. But I’d say that experience had made her very good at hiding her feelings. In all the time that I supervised her she never confided in me.’ She paused. ‘I had the feeling she was acting,’ she said. ‘All the time. None of us really knew her.’
    ‘Wasn’t there anyone she might have got close to? Boyfriend?’
    Ellie laughed. ‘She had lots of boyfriends,’ she said. ‘Half the Upper Sixth were infatuated with her. But I think she kept her feelings strictly under control. Unless…’ She paused again, uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. Hunter was momentarily distracted. He had never been out with a teacher.
    ‘Yes?’ he said.
    ‘I think there might have been an understanding between her and one of the lads in the English group. There was nothing I could put my finger on. I never saw them walking arm in arm around the college. Nothing like that. But you get an instinct for these things. She always arranged to be sitting next to him at class and sometimes I’d see her hanging around waiting for him.’
    ‘So you think she was interested in him and not the other way round?’
    ‘There was nothing obvious,’ she said. ‘But yes, I’d say she was interested in John Powell and I’m not sure that he welcomed the attention. I got the impression he tried to keep his distance.’
    ‘What’s he like, this Powell?’
    She hesitated, trying to find the right words. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Unusual, different. Bright enough if he puts the work in but you get the impression that he doesn’t really care, that it’s all beneath him. Arrogant, I suppose you’d call him.’
    ‘A troublemaker?’ Hunter asked.
    ‘Not really. Not in the accepted sense. But I always find his presence in a class undermining. It’s impossible to forget he’s there. You don’t feel you can treat him like all the other kids. He won’t be taken for granted.’
    ‘Friends?’
    ‘No,’ Ellie said. ‘I don’t think he’s any close friends. Not here at least. Admirers perhaps. He’s something of a cult figure. I’m not sure why.’
    The staff room was starting to empty. There was a queue at the sink as the teachers rinsed their cups. Ellie looked at her watch.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ll have to go soon. I’m teaching next period.’
    ‘When did you last see Gabby?’ Hunter asked.
    ‘Yesterday morning. But not in a tutor group. There was an English lesson. From ten until eleven thirty.’
    ‘And she was definitely there?’
    ‘Oh yes. I remember quite clearly. We were doing Hamlet. She read Ophelia.’ She paused, shocked. ‘Quite prophetic,’ she said, ‘when you think of it.’
    Hunter, who did not understand what she was talking about, kept quiet.
    ‘Did you see where she went when she left the class?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘ She rushed off as soon as the bell went. As if she were in a hurry. It wasn’t like her. She often stayed behind for a chat.’
    A bell rang and Ellie Smith looked at her watch again. ‘Look,’ she said.