Necropolis

although she'd always been glad to see her parents, she'd gotten used to the fact that they were seldom, if ever, around. The three of them had one last meeting in the kitchen, the two adults sitting with grim faces and large glasses of wine.
    ''Your mother is going to set up a company in Melbourne, in Australia," Paul said. "She has to go where the market is, and Melbourne is a wonderful opportunity." He glanced at Vanessa, and in that moment, Scarlett knew that he wasn't telling the whole truth. Maybe the Australians were desperate for exotic holidays. But the fact was that she had chosen somewhere as far away as possible. Maybe she had met someone else. Whatever the reason, she wanted to carve herself a whole new life. "As for me, Nightrise has asked me to move to the Hong Kong office…"
    The Nightrise Corporation. That was the company that employed her dad.
    "I know this is very difficult for you, Scarly," he went on. "Two such huge changes. But we both want to look after you. You can come with either of us."
    In fact, it wasn't difficult for Scarlett. She had already thought about it and made up her mind. "Why can't I stay here?" she asked.
    "On your own?"
    "Mrs. Murdoch will look after me. You're not going to sell the house, are you? This is my home!
    Anyway, I don't want to leave St. Genevieve's. And all my friends are here…"
    Of course, both her parents protested. They wanted Scarlett to come with them. How could she possibly manage without them? But all of them knew that it was actually the best, the easiest solution. Mrs.
    Murdoch had been with the family for ten years and probably knew Scarlett as well as anyone. In a way, they couldn't have been happier if they had suggested it themselves. It might not be conventional, but it was clearly for the best.

    And so it was agreed. A few weeks later, Vanessa left, hugging Scarlett and promising that the two of them would see each other again very soon. And yet, somehow, Scarlett wondered just how likely that would be. She had always tried to be close to Vanessa, recognizing at the same time that they had almost nothing in common. They weren't a real mother and daughter and so — as far as Scarlett was concerned
    — this wasn't a real divorce.
    Paul Adams left for Hong Kong shortly afterward, and suddenly Scarlett found herself in a new phase of life, virtually on her own. But, as she had expected, it wasn't so very different from what she had always been used to. Mrs. Murdoch was still there, cooking, cleaning, and making sure she was ready for school. Her father telephoned her regularly to check up on her. Vanessa sent long e-mails. Her teachers
    — who had been warned what had happened — kept a close eye on her. She was surprised how quickly she got used to things.
    She was happy. She had plenty of friends, and Aidan was still around. The two of them saw more of each other than ever, going shopping together, listening to music, taking Aidan's dog — a black retriever
    — out on Dulwich Common. She was allowed to walk home from school on her own again. In fact, as if to recognize her new status, she found herself being given a whole lot more freedom. On weekends, she went into town to the cinema. She stayed overnight with other girls from her class. She had been given a big part in the Christmas play, which meant late afternoon rehearsals and hours in the evening learning her lines. It all helped to fill the time and to make her think that her life wasn't so very unusual after all.
    Everything changed one day in November. That was when Miss Chaplin announced her great Blitz project — a visit to London's East End.
    Joan Chaplin was the art teacher at St. Genevieve's, and she was famous for being younger, friendlier, and more easygoing than any of the dinosaurs in the staff room. She was always finding new ways to interest the girls, organizing field trips to exhibitions and events all over London. One class had gone to see the giant crack built into the floor of the Tate Modern. For another it had been a shark suspended in a tank, an installation by the artist Damien Hirst. Weeks later, they had still been arguing whether it was serious art or just a dead fish.
    As part of their history coursework, a lot of the girls were studying the Blitz, the bombing of London by the Germans during the Second World War. Miss Chaplin had decided that they should take an artistic as well as a historical interest in what had happened.
    "I want you to capture the