Mantequero Read Online Free PDF Page A

briskly.
    “Come in.” The Weasel had a high nasal voice, exactly appropriate for a weasel. He even looked like a weasel with his long, narrow head and long, thin, pink-tipped nose.
    “Yes? What can I do for you, Miss –er?”
    “Metcalfe,” said Alison. “I was wondering about Miss Blacker. How is she?”
    The Weasel raised his eyebrows in a patronising manner. “I don’t see how that is any concern of yours.”
    “She is a friend and colleague,” said Alison patiently, aware she would have to go through the whole rigmarole again, “and I am concerned that she hasn’t come in to work.”
“Well, I can’t help you there,” Mr Wesley stood up and spread his hands on the desk. “Miss Blacker has not seen fit to inform us of the reason for her absence.”
Alison felt rage brimming up inside her but fought it down and went on sweetly. “That’s not very like her, is it? Has she ever done this before?”
Mr Wesley glared at her. “Miss – er –”
    “Metcalfe.”
    “Er – yes. I fail to see why you feel so concerned.”
    “Because she doesn’t do that. She never has time off. She always lets you know if there’s a problem. She doesn’t . . .” To her horror, Alison felt tears welling up in her eyes. She took a deep breath. “I just want to know if anyone has tried to contact her.”
    “Well, naturally,” Mr Wesley looked down his long nose at Alison as if she were something mildly interesting that had just crawled out from under a stone. “We telephoned her home.”
“And?”
    “And there was no reply.”
Alison’s hand flew up to her mouth.
    “My God! I knew something had happened to her. Have you been round to her house?”
    “Miss – er - this is a school, not a care home. We can’t go chasing after members of staff who lack the manners to inform us of their absence.”
    Alison stood up, cheeks flaming. “For goodness’ sake! This is completely out of character. Stop talking about her as if she’s playing truant. It’s obvious something is seriously wrong. If you can’t be bothered to send someone round, give me her address and I’ll go.” She felt her hands clenching into fists and pressed them hard against her sides, glaring back at Mr Wesley, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
    “I don’t think that would be appropriate,” said the Weasel, turning away from her and consulting a large chart on the wall. “You can rest assured the school will take the necessary action.”
Alison bit her lip and turned to go. She was afraid to speak for fear of bursting into tears.
    Sanctimonious prig! She hoped he fell down the stairs and nobody discovered his body till three weeks later when it began to smell.
     
    ****
     
     
    She just had time to grab a sandwich before the afternoon lessons. Nothing could be done until school finished at four. Damn.
    From time to time during the afternoon she thought about Miss Blacker. The problem tugged at her mind at unexpected moments and she felt as if she couldn’t possibly concentrate and the day would be never-ending, but when the four ‘o’ clock bell finally came it took her by surprise. She had become so engrossed in teaching she had actually succeeded in forgetting all about it. Now the anxiety came roaring back. She felt as if time was of the essence. It was imperative she find Miss Blacker and make sure she was all right before something dreadful and irrevocable happened.
    She handed out homework assignments to the class, gathered up her books for marking, stuffed them in her briefcase and left the room, heading at a dangerous pace for the staff room.
     
    There were far more Blackers in the telephone directory than she had imagined, but only twelve of them had the initial J. She rang them all. Seven went to answer machine, four rang and rang with no reply, and the one that answered said there was no June Blacker at that address.
    Feeling defeated, she slumped down in the chair staring at the page in the directory as if something