to, someone her own age who she would confide in.’
He shook his head and blew his nose again.
‘Why did she change schools?’
‘They was bullying Gemma. She was a bright girl, really sensitive. Had a heart of gold, used to work at the local animal shelter in the holidays.’
‘What happened?’
He gave her a weary look. ‘The usual stuff. The school wasn’t on top of things. They give the kids a good talking-to a few times but it didn’t change nothing. They just went out and picked on her again. We had to get her out of there. It’s lucky I earn a decent living and we could do something about it. I pity the poor kids who are stuck in a place like that.’
‘Why did you choose the convent?’
‘Mary’s Catholic. As I said, Gemma was a bright girl and we thought she’d do well there. Also, we didn’t want her growing up too fast.’
That was the real reason, Donovan thought, wondering why they were so protective of Gemma. Had she given them cause for concern before? The innocent picture he presented didn’t square with what had happened at St Sebastian’s, or what she knew of other young girls of Gemma’s age. Either he was hiding something, or Gemma had led a secret life.
‘Had she made any friends since moving schools?’
‘She’s come home a few times with a girl called Rosie. Spent the night at her place once or twice, I think.’
‘Do you have her number?’
‘It’ll be in her diary.’
‘May I see it?’
He shrugged and got slowly to his feet. ‘It’s one of them electronic things. It’s upstairs in her desk.’
‘What about a phone?’ she said, following him out the door, interested to see Gemma’s room. A search team would have to go over it properly but she wanted to take a look for herself.
Kramer shook his head. ‘No point. Mary walked her to and from school and she didn’t have many friends to call.’
Most girls Gemma’s age were allowed to walk to school on their own. They also had cell phones; it was odd that her parents hadn’t given her one and Donovan wondered if Gemma had minded, if she had felt the odd one out in her peer group.
‘What about a computer? Did Gemma have access to the internet?’
He nodded. ‘Used it for her schoolwork. It’s all in her room upstairs.’
‘You’d better show me.’
The stairs were narrow and Kramer seemed out of scale as he lumbered up them, holding on so tight to the thin banister that it creaked and wobbled beneath his grasp. Following behind, Donovan passed a half-open door on the first floor landing, glimpsing through it the dark shape of Gemma’s mother in bed, deeply asleep judging by the sound of heavy breathing coming from the room. Thank God she didn’t have to go through all this with her.
Gemma’s bedroom was on the top floor at the front of the house. Kramer hesitated on the landing, staring down at the floor as if he couldn’t bring himself even to look at the door.
‘Do you mind going in by yourself? I can’t bear seeing her things.’
‘Of course, Mr Kramer,’ she said. ‘I’ll come and find you downstairs, shall I? I won’t be long.’
She waited until he disappeared from view then she pushed open the door and walked in.
Light streamed in from the street outside, casting long shadows across the floor. Thinking that someone in one of the houses opposite might be looking out, she moved to close the curtains before switching on the light at the wall. The bed was made, not even a wrinkle in the duvet or pillows, which were patterned with tiny rosebuds and bows. A purple cardigan hung over the back of a chair and a pair of flat black shoes peeped out from under the bed next to a pair of pink slippers. It was as if she had walked into a bubble, separate from the real world, and it brought a knot to her throat. The room was frozen in time, the clock stopped on the day Gemma died, the child never coming home. Having your child die before you must be one of the most terrible things in the