Night School

  Disappointed, Allie leaned away from her. ‘That’s what Sylvain said, but it didn’t sound like a fox to me.’

  ‘What do you think it sounded like?’ Jo asked.

  Allie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Something with teeth.’ ‘A bear?’ Jo suggested impishly. ‘A dragon? A wookie?’

  ‘Jo, seriously!’ Allie was frustrated. ‘What happened last night was real. Gabe and Sylvain took it seriously. They didn’t seem to think we were being silly. They were … well, not scared, but like, really nervous. Now I feel like everyone’s trying to make us think we were hysterical. Or like it was some big joke. But I think there was something out there.’

  Jo made a soothing gesture with her hands.

  ‘Look, Allie, something definitely happened, but it was dark, and I don’t think anybody knows whether or not it was really dangerous. We could have just scared ourselves. Gabe says some people went out last night looking for whatever it was, but they didn’t find anything.’ She smiled. ‘I can tell you it’s pretty unusual. It’s not like we usually get attacked by wild growly things. So don’t get too freaked out.’

  Allie wasn’t convinced but she didn’t want to appear obsessed, so she nodded reluctantly.

  ‘You’re right. I’m sure you’re right.’

  ‘Right, so. Back to what to do tonight,’ Jo said. ‘If not Trivial Pursuit … backgammon? Something else? Monopoly? Noughts and crosses?’

  Allie tried to summon interest in board games for Jo, but she found them dull at the best of times.

  ‘Have you ever played chess?’ Jo asked, finally.

  Allie’s expression must have given her away because Jo’s face took on a determined focus.

  ‘Seriously? That’s outrageous. Well, I’m about to take care of that right now.’

  Jumping off the sofa, she knelt beside the table in front of them and pulled a shoebox-sized wooden box from underneath it. From it she began to pull out glossy pieces. Setting the black pieces on her side, she handed Allie a white knight.

  Allie held it up and made a neighing sound. Jo gave her a withering look.

  ‘Pony,’ Allie said weakly.

  ‘Get serious, Allie. So you hate board games. Fine. Chess is not a board game. Chess is only sort of a game, because really chess is war.’

  When Allie made a face Jo added firmly, ‘So chess is exciting.’ She pointed at the piece Allie still held. ‘That is not a pony. That is a knight that kills.’ Pointing at a square she said: ‘Put it there.’

  Trying to look serious, Allie placed the knight where she was told but, shooting Jo a rebellious glance she murmured ‘good horsey’ under her breath.

  Jo ignored her and picked up a pawn.

  ‘These are your foot soldiers. They have the least freedom and the least power, but because they’re willing to sacrifice themselves for their betters you can’t win without them.’

  She set down the little round-headed piece and pulled out a piece shaped like a castle tower.

  ‘This is your rook – the king’s fortress. It is the only piece on the board that can legally take the king’s place at any time. Its role is to confuse the enemy. It goes here.’

  Setting it down she picked up two more pieces. In her right hand she held a piece shaped vaguely like a minaret. ‘The bishop. Slick and dangerous, he has huge power. I think of him as the queen’s bit of rough.’ Now she waved the tall, regal piece in her left hand. ‘The king. Almost always weaker than you’d think – all the pieces protect him but he almost never helps anyone else, because if he does he could die.’

  Allie cupped her chin in her hand. ‘This is like Shakespeare, only … lamer.’

  Now Jo picked up a slender, crowned white piece and handed it to her. ‘The queen. She’s a complete bitch. But if you want to win, you have got to work with her.’

  ‘Great,’ Allie said. ‘What happens next? And at what point do I begin kicking your arse?’

  Jo handed her the white pieces. ‘If you practise and work hard? Maybe by your twenty-seventh birthday. I’ve been playing chess since I was five. Set yours out the way I’ve done mine, then I’ll beat you for the first time.’

  Allie arranged her pieces as a mirror image of Jo’s.

  ‘So, tell me a bit about your friends,’ she said, picking up the queen. ‘Lisa and Lucas seem nice, but Ruth and Phil I couldn’t really tell …’

  Jo nodded. ‘I think you’ll really like Lisa – she was my first friend at Cimmeria. Ruth’s cool but she’s kind of, I don’t know, intense, I guess. So you have to be in the mood to deal with her. Phil’s OK – he tells terrible jokes when he loosens up. But he’s kind of shy around new people.’

  At that moment, Ruth ran into the room, breathless, her clothes soaked and her wet hair dropping beads of water.

  ‘Jo.’

  She stood in front of them, panting, her hands clutching her sides as if she’d run very quickly. Water puddled on the floor at her feet.

  Allie froze, the queen still in her hand. Jo seemed speechless, but Ruth didn’t wait to be asked.

  ‘It’s Gabe.’

  EIGHT

  Jo jumped to her feet sending chess pieces scattering across the floor.

  ‘What …?’ She looked confused, fearful.

  ‘He’s hurt. Phil too. It went wrong.’

  Allie stood up and moved to Jo’s side. ‘What happened? Where are they?’

  Ruth gave her an appraising look; Allie thought she saw Jo nod.

  ‘The summerhouse,’ Ruth said.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Allie said, taking Jo by the hand and pulling her towards the common room door. Ruth didn’t follow them.

  The two of them dashed through the grand entry hall where they skidded to a stop on the stone floor and shoved the heavy wooden door open. Outside the rain was pelting down. Allie dashed out without hesitation, but at the foot of the steps she stopped and turned to Jo.

  ‘Which way?’ She shouted to be heard above the noise of the storm as thunder rumbled above them.

  Jo pointed past the west wing. They hurtled down the drive, then onto the wet grass and out towards the woods. Allie could hear her own ragged breathing ringing in her ears, the sound of rain … and nothing else.

  A few minutes later she saw an elaborate Victorian gazebo through the trees. It was empty. They ran up the stairs and looked around, panting. Allie bent over with her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath.

  Jo pointed into the woods. ‘There.’

  Allie peered into the rainy gloom, but could see nobody.

  Then she heard a shout that seemed to come from far away, deep in the forest. Allie looked at Jo to see if she’d heard. She was staring off into the trees, her lips slightly parted as she listened.

  ‘Did you hear that too?’ Allie whispered. Jo nodded, her eyes still fixed on the forest.

  ‘It’s Gabe,’ she whispered back.

  They stood still, watching. More shouts, but they could see nothing. Then, after a few minutes, shadowy figures came into focus, walking out from between the trees. Allie could make out Carter and Gabe. They seemed to be holding somebody up between them. She couldn’t see who it was.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Jo was still whispering.

  As the boys walked up the stairs to the summerhouse, Allie could see that they were wounded. Carter had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding heavily. Gabe had blood on his hands and shirt. He glared at Allie.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  Carter turned to Gabe. ‘Not right now, man. We’ve got enough problems.’

  Gently, they laid down the person they carried. Allie didn’t recognise him, but Jo gasped.

  ‘Phil. Oh no.’

  Gabe looked up at her, his eyes worried. ‘I think he’s going to be OK. Sylvain’s gone to get help.’

  Allie pulled at Gabe’s arm, turning it over to reveal a cut on his wrist bleeding freely.

  ‘Gabe,’ she breathed, colour disappearing from her face.

  What the
hell is happening? Allie thought, looking at the disaster scene in front of her. And why isn’t anybody else asking that question?

  On his knees beside Phil, Carter tore a strip from the end of his shirt and tied it tightly around the unconscious boy’s leg. Then he tore another one and held it up to Jo. ‘Tie this around Gabe’s wrist.’

  But Jo seemed unable to move. She held the white fabric as if she didn’t quite know what it was.

  Seeing Jo’s fear, Allie stepped over. ‘I’ll do it.’

  As she reached for the fabric, Jo let it fall from her hand.

  The makeshift bandage fluttering, Allie turned to Gabe. ‘Hold out your hand.’

  Gabe lifted his arm and Allie wrapped the strip expertly around his wrist and hand, weaving it into a tight bandage, then tucking the end in so the fit was snug.

  ‘Hold your hand above your heart until the bleeding stops,’ she intoned automatically.

  Turning back towards Phil, she saw that Carter was watching her.

  ‘You’re bleeding too,’ she said.

  ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘I can see that. Someone should look at that cut.’

  Hearing footsteps running across the grass, Allie looked up to see a group of people running their way. As they neared she saw that Sylvain was in the lead, Zelazny and Jerry right behind him. Zelazny glanced at Allie with irritation.

  ‘What is she doing here?’ His tone was accusing.

  Sylvain’s eyes met Allie’s for a second then he returned his focus to Zelazny. His voice was soothing. ‘We’ll find out later – first we must deal with this.’

  ‘How bad is it?’ Jerry asked, checking the tourniquet.

  Carter looked worried. ‘Not good. He needs a doctor. He’s bleeding a lot.’

  ‘What about you?’ Jerry asked.

  Blood dripped down Carter’s face and onto his soaked white shirt, but he didn’t look up. ‘I’ll be fine. I just need a couple of stitches.’

  ‘OK, you and Gabe get to the nurse. Sylvain, help me with Phil. Everybody else, get back inside. Now.’

  His tone was firm and on his last word they all moved at once. He and Sylvain carried Phil by draping his arms across their shoulders, and Zelazny hurried ahead of them. As if she’d been shaken awake, Jo turned to Gabe and hugged him.

  Allie walked over to Carter and slipped her arm around his waist to help but he wrenched himself free.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he insisted roughly.

  Flushing, Allie moved away from him.

  ‘If this is how you look when you’re fine, I’d hate to see you when you’re bad,’ she muttered.

  He snorted derisively but walked alongside her, an arm’s length away.

  ‘What the hell was that all about, Carter?’ she asked, as soon as they were out of earshot of the others. ‘Why was everybody all Ninja all of a sudden? It was freaky.’

  ‘It was nothing,’ he said. ‘An accident. It happens.’

  ‘It happens?’ she asked, her voice disbelieving. ‘An accident in the woods in the pouring rain in which half the student population ends up bleeding to death … happens?’

  The dark look he shot her was made even more murderous by the blood streaming down his face.

  ‘Has anybody ever mentioned you’ve got an exaggeration problem?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ Allie replied. ‘Anybody ever mention you’ve got a dickhead problem?’

  After that, they didn’t speak.

  As the rain pounded down on them, she cast a sideways glance at him from underneath lashes so covered in raindrops it was like looking through a waterfall. He was staring ahead, his jaw set.

  When they reached the school steps, Isabelle stood at the top in a long white raincoat. The rain made a dull plastic sound as it pounded against the hood.

  ‘Carter. Allie. Are you OK? Carter, you look horrible.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Carter insisted. ‘I just need a couple of stitches.’

  Isabelle scrutinised him, then turned to Allie. ‘And you? Are you hurt?’

  Allie shook her head and water poured onto her nose.

  ‘Good. Carter, get to the nursing station. Allie, would you come with me, please?’

  Without waiting for a reply, she walked back inside briskly.

  As Allie turned to follow her, Carter grabbed her elbow. She thought he looked like a victim in a horror film.

  ‘Come find me before curfew,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in the great hall.’ Then he sloshed into the school, leaving a trail of water in his wake.

  Frowning, Allie’s eyes followed him down the hall.

  ‘As if,’ she muttered before hurrying after Isabelle.

  They walked past the common room and then through a door so neatly hidden in the wood panelling that Allie had never noticed it before. Inside was a spacious, windowless office with a fireplace, its carved mantelpiece topped with unlighted candles. One wall was entirely covered in a tapestry – a knight with a sword, and a damsel by a white horse. Isabelle handed her a soft white towel, and Allie rubbed the water roughly out of her hair and then wrapped it around her shoulders, shivering. Now that she was inside she felt cold.

  ‘Please sit down.’ Isabelle gestured to two leather chairs across from her desk. She perched on the edge of the desk, watching her. Allie was conscious of the low timbre of classical music playing from hidden speakers.

  ‘You’re sure you’re OK?’ Isabelle asked. When Allie nodded she continued. ‘Good. I just want to talk to you for a minute, then I’m going to send you off to get some dry clothes. You’re not in any trouble, but I just need to know what happened tonight.’

  Allie looked at her, puzzled. ‘I don’t …?’

  ‘I mean what were you and Jo doing out at the summer-house? Tell me what happened from the beginning.’

  Allie wrapped the towel more tightly around her shoulders and thought quickly. Was someone in trouble?

  Am I in trouble?

  ‘We were just … looking for Gabe,’ she said carefully. ‘Jo wanted to surprise him by sneaking up on him but we couldn’t find him. We went to the summerhouse to get out of the rain, and then we saw the boys coming out of the woods.’

  She felt uncomfortable lying to Isabelle but the whole thing felt wrong. When Ruth had come to get them, she’d looked frightened. She’d been white as a sheet. Allie’s instincts told her to cover for Ruth, even though she didn’t know her very well.

  Ruth wasn’t supposed to tell us anything.

  Isabelle watched her closely. ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘We knew right away that something was wrong, but nobody would tell us what happened.’ The last bit sounded self-pitying, but really, why was everybody being so secretive?

  ‘Is that everything?’ The headmistress gave no indication at all that she didn’t believe her, so Allie decided it was time to ask some questions of her own.

  ‘Do you know what happened?’ she asked. ‘Carter refuses to tell me and everybody else acts like I’ve done something really wrong.’

  Isabelle leaned forward. ‘I’m sorry about that, Allie. They shouldn’t behave like that. You’re new, and there’s no way for you to know. I’m not quite clear yet as to what happened or how the boys got hurt, but I intend to find out.’

  ‘It’s just,’ Allie said, ‘it looked really bad.’

  Isabelle stood up. ‘I think it looked worse than it was. I’m told nobody was seriously injured, and sometimes games just get a little too rough. It’s nothing for you to worry about. I will speak with those involved.’

  Isabelle dropped her hand to Allie’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly as she walked by her to the door, which she held open for her.

  ‘Thank you, Allie. I’m glad you’re OK. You don’t need to worry about Phil – he’s already being seen by medical staff. And it is clear to me that Gabe and Carter’s wounds are superficial.’

  Though Allie felt as if she should have demanded more answers, Isabelle’s explanation did make sense. Boys did always get into troub
le – she’d seen Mark and Harry hurt themselves plenty of times. They’d both ended up in A&E on more than one occasion after a night of tagging had gone wrong.

  But what could have happened to them all out in the woods? And why won’t anyone tell me?

  Back in her room she changed into a dry skirt and jumper, dumping her wet clothes on the floor. She wanted to get back downstairs before curfew and find out how everyone was doing.

  As she dabbed on pale pink lip gloss in front of the mirror, though, her hand stopped. Should I go and meet Carter?

  It wasn’t that she really wanted to meet him – he’d been a complete arse. She was just curious. Why did he want to meet her alone? And why in the great hall? She hadn’t been in there since Isabelle showed it to her the day she arrived.

  She checked the clock. It was only ten. There was still plenty of time until curfew.

  She dashed down the stairs then tiptoed down the corridor towards the great hall.

  ‘Allie.’ Sylvain’s silky accent caressed her name and she spun around to find him right behind her. ‘I was hoping to run into you. I was concerned – are you OK?’

  He pulled her into a hug and, after hesitating, Allie hugged him back. His fingers delicately traced a line down her back to her waist.

  Goosebumps.

  He stood back to look at her. ‘You’re still wet. I’m so glad you’re not hurt.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  She tried to think of an excuse for what she was up to. There’s no way he would be happy to know she was on her way to meet Carter. But what he didn’t know, she reasoned, wouldn’t hurt her.

  ‘I was just looking for Jo …’ she said.

  ‘I believe she is with Gabe.’ His fingers were under her chin now, tilting her face up so that she looked at him. She could feel his breath on her cheek. He smelled of cool juniper.

  ‘What were you and Jo doing in the summerhouse anyway?’ His tone was casual, but something about his manner sent off warning signals. ‘Zelazny was very cross to see you there.’

  Is he investigating me?

  ‘It was before curfew,’ Allie argued. ‘I don’t see why everybody cares that we were outside. We just wanted to go out. So we did.’