Bang Bang You're Dead by Narinder Dhami Read Free Book Online

she got a lot of praise for persuading me to enter the competition. I can guess exactly what the other teachers were saying.
    Isn't Natasha Kennedy wonderful? Look how she's brought that quiet, pathetic little mouse Mia Jackson out of her shell . . . Imagine her writing a prize-winning essay!
    It's entirely possible that Ms Kennedy is one of the people who have used and abused us and, like Jamie, I am sick and tired of it. I have had enough – enough – of everyone telling me what to do.
    Pure adrenalin sings through me once again. But this time it's fuelled by intense, all-consuming rage. A rage I didn't even know I was capable of feeling.
    'Mia!' Ms Kennedy lunges at me again and then almost howls with frustration as I step sideways to avoid her. 'Don't be a bloody idiot! Come on !'
    'No,' I shout.
    I evade her clutches, turn and race back down the corridor, away from the exit. I am quick, but Ms Kennedy is quicker. I forgot she is a star member of the school's running club and has competed in the London Marathon three times. She catches up with me at the corner and clamps my shoulders in a vice-like grip, spinning me round towards her. She slaps my face, not hard, but enough to make me gasp. My eyes sting and I am momentarily thrown off-balance.
    'Calm down, Mia, and don't be a fool!' she shouts. She grabs my arm and begins to drag me back towards the exit again.
    'Let go of me!' I shriek, lashing out at her with my free hand.
    We begin to fight, Ms Kennedy trying to dodge my flailing arm and pull me back towards the exit, me still hitting out at her and trying to break free.
    I cannot believe I'm fighting with a teacher.
    But I am desperate. Almost instinctively, I stamp hard on Ms Kennedy's foot; she gasps in pain and her grip on me loosens slightly. I take advantage of this to give her a hard shove.
    I swear I didn't mean this to happen, but Ms Kennedy staggers backwards, slips on the polished floor and goes down. She hits her head on the protruding window ledge as she falls, then blacks out. She lies there motionless as I gaze down at her in abject horror.
    Oh God, now I've killed a teacher.
    Tears streaming down my face, I sink to my knees beside Ms Kennedy. I grab her wrist and try to check for a pulse, but I have no idea what I'm doing. I look around frantically for help but of course there's no one here. What now?
    Then, with a sob of relief, I see Ms Kennedy's eyes flicker. She mumbles something but then sinks into unconsciousness again. I can see now that her chest is rising and falling with every breath. She is definitely alive, thank God.
    I scramble to my feet to flee, but hesitate. I am free to go to Jamie, but I can't leave Ms Kennedy here. She might be in danger, and I can't have that on my conscience. My nerves stretched like elastic to breaking point, I stand there wondering what to do next.
    Then, out of nowhere, there is a loud burst of classical music, and I'm so frightened I almost have to scrape myself off the ceiling. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that Ms Kennedy's mobile phone is ringing.
    I bend down, take the mobile out of her jacket pocket – it's the latest designer must-have – and glance at the display screen. Keisha Powell. My form tutor.
    I am about to press the off button when suddenly I realize that here is the answer to my problem of what to do with the unconscious Ms Kennedy. Instead of turning the phone off, I press the answer button.
    'Hello? Hello? ' Ms Powell is already yelling at the other end of the line as we are connected. 'Natasha, for God's sake, where are you?'
    'Hello,' I mumble.
    I think about trying to disguise my voice but the best I can do is to speak very low and quietly.
    'Natasha, the police are moving us right away from the school,' Ms Powell shouts, hardly waiting for my reply, her usually calm and measured tones touched with hysteria. In the background I can hear all kinds of noise – shouts and screams, car engines and the unmistakable sound of