a month to see if we need pills or whatever.’
‘Did you see her much after she moved?’ asked Paula.
‘Not so much. I’d see her in class or the buttery. Or we’d FB or G-chat, you know. But it was like . . .’ She sighed. ‘It was like I’d lost her. You know, we were really best friends. Before.’
‘When did you last actually see Alice then? I mean in person?’
She thought about it. ‘God, I don’t know. I think I saw her across the library last week and waved. She didn’t see me but we G-chatted after.’
‘And how did she look?’ asked Corry.
‘Eh, same as usual? She was wearing this big, baggy jumper and had a hat on, even though it’s been boiling. I didn’t really – but I should have realised maybe that was a sign.’
‘What?’
‘When you get really bad with anorexia, you sometimes wear massive clothes, cos you think you’re big. It’s like body dysmorphia or something?’
Paula nodded. ‘Right. That’s useful to know, thank you.’
Corry said, ‘So you can’t tell us why she liked the relic? It seemed to almost . . . obsess her?’
‘Oh yeah. It did. She told me she was interested in what it could do.’
‘What do you mean, do?’
At this, Katy looked up, her face smooth as a child’s. ‘The powers that it had. You see, she was looking for a miracle.’
Chapter Seven
‘A miracle?’ said Corry.
‘You know. She was sick of being how she is. All the time. Not being able to eat.’
‘And she thought the relic could help her?’
‘Well yeah, because it’s for hungry people. She—’ Katy broke off as there was a brisk knock on the door and it began to open.
‘Katy?’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Are you in there?’
Katy straightened herself on the bed, tucking her phone under herself. ‘Ms Hooker . . . hi. The police . . . um. They’re here.’ She gestured towards Paula and Corry.
‘Can I help you, ladies?’ The woman in the doorway was dressed in riding clothes – jodhpurs, jacket, boots. ‘I take it you’re the police then?’
‘DS Corry, Dr Maguire,’ said Corry, indicating Paula. ‘You wouldn’t be the principal, by any chance?’
‘Well, yes, I’m Madeleine Hooker.’
Corry narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought we had an appointment earlier today. You weren’t about to assist us.’
‘Well, I see you’ve gone ahead anyway.’
‘We have. Can we have a word now?’
She looked at her watch and gave a small sigh. ‘Come to my office. Katy, shouldn’t you be studying? I hope you won’t let yourself get behind.’
The woman who ran Oakdale kept a riding crop on her desk, apparently with no sense of irony. Paula was trying hard not to look at it. The walls of Madeleine Hooker’s office (she was called Hooker too – Gerard would have had a field day) were hung with equestrian rosettes, pictures of her jumping horses, meeting the president in a hard hat and jodhpurs. You could tell from her voice she was old money, old Ireland. ‘I hope you won’t upset things here. We run a very delicate ecosystem. Lots of police questions might create an atmosphere of distrust, stress.’
Corry, not one to be intimidated by a woman with a real Hermès scarf and a non-ironic riding crop, geared up. ‘One of your students is missing, Ms Hooker. If they feel anything at all, the others are most likely already stressed. Now, please try to help us with our inquiries – I imagine you’d also like Alice found, and fast. The press must be all over you.’
Madeleine Hooker drew her brows together. She was much younger than Paula had expected – not even forty, maybe. ‘We want Alice found because she’s a member of our community. But you need to understand, Oakdale isn’t like other universities.’
‘How so?’ Paula could almost hear Corry thinking – the other universities would be worried about their damn students going missing.
‘It helps if you think of it more like a monastery, or convent. Somewhere cloistered. And we’re
‘Did you see her much after she moved?’ asked Paula.
‘Not so much. I’d see her in class or the buttery. Or we’d FB or G-chat, you know. But it was like . . .’ She sighed. ‘It was like I’d lost her. You know, we were really best friends. Before.’
‘When did you last actually see Alice then? I mean in person?’
She thought about it. ‘God, I don’t know. I think I saw her across the library last week and waved. She didn’t see me but we G-chatted after.’
‘And how did she look?’ asked Corry.
‘Eh, same as usual? She was wearing this big, baggy jumper and had a hat on, even though it’s been boiling. I didn’t really – but I should have realised maybe that was a sign.’
‘What?’
‘When you get really bad with anorexia, you sometimes wear massive clothes, cos you think you’re big. It’s like body dysmorphia or something?’
Paula nodded. ‘Right. That’s useful to know, thank you.’
Corry said, ‘So you can’t tell us why she liked the relic? It seemed to almost . . . obsess her?’
‘Oh yeah. It did. She told me she was interested in what it could do.’
‘What do you mean, do?’
At this, Katy looked up, her face smooth as a child’s. ‘The powers that it had. You see, she was looking for a miracle.’
Chapter Seven
‘A miracle?’ said Corry.
‘You know. She was sick of being how she is. All the time. Not being able to eat.’
‘And she thought the relic could help her?’
‘Well yeah, because it’s for hungry people. She—’ Katy broke off as there was a brisk knock on the door and it began to open.
‘Katy?’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Are you in there?’
Katy straightened herself on the bed, tucking her phone under herself. ‘Ms Hooker . . . hi. The police . . . um. They’re here.’ She gestured towards Paula and Corry.
‘Can I help you, ladies?’ The woman in the doorway was dressed in riding clothes – jodhpurs, jacket, boots. ‘I take it you’re the police then?’
‘DS Corry, Dr Maguire,’ said Corry, indicating Paula. ‘You wouldn’t be the principal, by any chance?’
‘Well, yes, I’m Madeleine Hooker.’
Corry narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought we had an appointment earlier today. You weren’t about to assist us.’
‘Well, I see you’ve gone ahead anyway.’
‘We have. Can we have a word now?’
She looked at her watch and gave a small sigh. ‘Come to my office. Katy, shouldn’t you be studying? I hope you won’t let yourself get behind.’
The woman who ran Oakdale kept a riding crop on her desk, apparently with no sense of irony. Paula was trying hard not to look at it. The walls of Madeleine Hooker’s office (she was called Hooker too – Gerard would have had a field day) were hung with equestrian rosettes, pictures of her jumping horses, meeting the president in a hard hat and jodhpurs. You could tell from her voice she was old money, old Ireland. ‘I hope you won’t upset things here. We run a very delicate ecosystem. Lots of police questions might create an atmosphere of distrust, stress.’
Corry, not one to be intimidated by a woman with a real Hermès scarf and a non-ironic riding crop, geared up. ‘One of your students is missing, Ms Hooker. If they feel anything at all, the others are most likely already stressed. Now, please try to help us with our inquiries – I imagine you’d also like Alice found, and fast. The press must be all over you.’
Madeleine Hooker drew her brows together. She was much younger than Paula had expected – not even forty, maybe. ‘We want Alice found because she’s a member of our community. But you need to understand, Oakdale isn’t like other universities.’
‘How so?’ Paula could almost hear Corry thinking – the other universities would be worried about their damn students going missing.
‘It helps if you think of it more like a monastery, or convent. Somewhere cloistered. And we’re
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