Say Her Name by James Dawson

Bobbie and Naya had to go to the Lodge to use the phone. ‘Do you think anyone saw us?’ Naya asked.
    ‘I don’t think so. But maybe you should go to Drama just to be on the safe side?’
    ‘Are you crazy? I’m not missing this to listen to Ms Flemming bang on about the freaking Stanislavski System.’
    Bobbie chuckled and checked the coast was clear. God only knew where Mrs Craddock was – she was off duty until five. Somewhere down the hall a hoover purred as the cleaners went through the bedrooms. Activity surrounding Sadie’s room in Christie House seemed to have died down, although the police cars on the front drive suggested the officers hadn’t left yet. With any luck, their presence would keep teachers out of their way.
    Taking the crumpled piece of scrap paper out of her blazer pocket, Bobbie started to dial the number last listed for Bridget Horne.
    ‘Do you want me to do it?’
    ‘No, it’s okay.’ Bobbie listened to the phone ring.
    ‘Maybe they’re all out – it is the middle of the day.’
    ‘Or maybe it’s totally the wrong num—’
    On the sixth ring, someone answered. ‘Hello?’
    ‘Oh, hi. Is that Bridget?’
    ‘No. Who is this?’
    Bobbie had a name ready off the alumni list. ‘This is Clarissa True. I was in Bridget’s year at school.’
    The voice on the other end was tentative, nervy. ‘Oh. Well, dear, this is her mother.’
    ‘Is Bridget there?’ Bobbie knew that over ten years after graduating from Piper’s Hall, it was highly unlikely Bridget still lived at home, but she hoped they might get her new number.
    ‘Did you say your name was Clarissa?’
    It felt like there were bubbles in her heart. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Did we ever meet, dear?’
    ‘I think we did.’ Bobbie reached into the dark. ‘At that show … ’
    ‘And you knew Bridget well?’
    She didn’t like the past tense one bit. ‘We were close at school, but y’know, we sort of just lost touch … after what happened.’ It seemed like a safe bet that an unexplained double disappearance had sent ripples through the year group.
    There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘I see. Well, thank you so much for getting in touch. I shall be sure to tell Bridget that you rang.’
    Bobbie scrabbled to keep her on the phone. ‘Isn’t there a way that I could speak to her myself?’
    ‘At the hospital?’
    ‘Yes.’ Bobbie’s blagging skills were being tested to the limits. ‘Don’t they have like a time when I could ring?’
    There came another pause: a barely audible, sad sigh. Although her tone was as full of forced cheer as yellow paint, Bridget’s mother sounded tired. ‘That’s sweet of you, but Bridget doesn’t really say much any more. Least of all on the phone.’
    Bobbie looked to Naya, who just shrugged. ‘Erm … what was the name of the hospital again? I’ll send a letter.’
    ‘Oh that would be nice – I think she’d really appreciate that. There haven’t been too many letters or phone calls since she went into care full-time. It’s the Psychiatric Care Unit at the Royal Seahaven Hospital.’
    Bobbie took care to keep the victory out of her voice. ‘Thank you, Mrs Horne, I shall send a card later today.’
    ‘Thank you, Clarissa. You take care now.’
    She ended the phone call and looked to Naya. ‘This just keeps getting more and more messed up. Bridget is on a mental ward in Seahaven.’
    ‘No way. That’s just past Oxsley.’
    Bobbie nodded. ‘I know. I think we need to pay –’
    She was halted in her tracks. A silhouette loomed tall in the frosted-glass door panel. The door creaked open, Dr Price’s slender frame somehow filling the space. Bobbie’s heart plummeted in her chest and shot into her throat simultaneously.
    The Principal’s eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at them. ‘And just what do you think you two are doing?’

Chapter 9

Cracking Up
    ‘Well?’ Dr Price’s cool tone was betrayed by the anger in her eyes.
    Bobbie tried to speak, but her heart still