‘In the pouring rain.’
Allie was tired of being questioned. ‘We thought it would be fun,’ she said. ‘And, you know what? I could ask you the same question. What were you doing outside in the pouring rain?’
He studied her curiously, as if he saw something new in her he hadn’t noticed before.
‘Fair enough, ma belle.’ For the first time she heard cool distance in his voice. She’d touched a nerve.
‘How’s Phil?’ she asked, trying to move to safer ground.
‘He is going to be OK – but he lost some blood so it will be a couple of days. It was a bad fall.’
As she opened her mouth to ask what had happened out there, he spoke again.
‘You should have something warm to drink,’ he said. ‘Come with me. There’s hot chocolate in the kitchen.’
‘No.’ Allie’s response was more panicked than the situation called for and Sylvain raised one eyebrow in surprise as she fumbled for a reason. ‘I … There’s something I need to do. Let’s talk tomorrow? I have to …’
Her explanations fading, she dashed past him to the library. It was deserted – even the librarian’s desk was empty. Running across the soft rugs down to the stacks, Allie disappeared into the shadows between two tall bookcases.
Behind her she heard the door open and close again. He called her name twice, softly. After a minute, the door opened and closed again. To be safe, Allie stayed where she was a few minutes longer. When she’d heard nothing while counting slowly to two hundred, she stepped out of the stacks, opening the library door to peek out into the hall. Sylvain was nowhere in sight. She sighed with relief.
The great hall door swung open without a sound when she pushed it. The lights were off but she could see a faint glow at the far end of the vast, empty ballroom. She walked in that direction hesitantly.
‘Carter?’ she whispered.
A voice made a ghostly ‘woooo’ sound that echoed around her.
‘Cut it out, West.’
He chuckled.
As she neared the light, she saw that he was sprawled in a chair with his foot propped up on a table between a couple of lighted candles. His forehead was neatly bandaged. He was holding a book, which he now dropped lightly on the floor.
There was another chair next to him, and he gestured at it.
‘Sit.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ she muttered, as she sat.
He smiled darkly. ‘Sorry, I thought I was being polite.’
She ignored that. ‘How’s your head?’
He waved the question away. ‘I’m fine.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘So, what’s up?’ Allie asked to break the stillness. ‘Why did you want to meet me here? In case you’re hoping, I don’t dance.’
He shrugged. ‘I like it here. I’m always here. They never check it, I don’t know why.’
Lifting his foot from the table, he turned to face her. ‘I just want to know how you and Blondie ended up in the summerhouse tonight right when everything went down. Gabe left you both safely in the common room on the verge of a girly conversation about … shoes or lipstick or whatever girls talk about. Fifteen minutes later, you’re at the summerhouse in the pouring rain tying bandages. How did that happen, Allie?’
She dodged his eyes. ‘Jo just wanted to look for …’
He cut her off. ‘Oh, give it a rest, Allie. I’m not Isabelle.’
Surprised by his vehemence, she fumbled for something to say. ‘I … uh … Well …’
He sat still, studying her.
The same instinctive worry that stopped her from telling Isabelle told her not to tell Carter either. But she had to find out what was going on around here, and if anybody would know, he would.
‘Ruth. She came and got us.’
In the candlelight, his eyes were fathomless. She stared into them for a long, silent moment looking for a reaction, but saw nothing.
When he spoke, his voice was cold. ‘What did she say?’
Allie crossed her arms across her torso, visualising Ruth standing in front of her, water streaming from her hair and dripping onto the floor. Fear on her face.
‘She said Phil and Gabe were hurt. And something weird. I think she said “It went wrong.”’
Carter came out of his chair so fast that later she couldn’t remember seeing him do it. Holding her by her shoulders he seemed to tower over her. Allie recoiled.
With his lips a few inches away from hers he spoke in a harsh whisper. ‘You must never tell anybody else what Ruth did. Swear it.’
Allie stared up at him, and her lips moved for a second before any sound came out.
‘Yeah, sure. OK, I won’t tell anyone. Jesus, Carter.’
As if he’d just realised what he was doing, he let her go.
‘You’re freaking me out,’ Allie said, rubbing her shoulder. ‘What is your malfunction?’
Trying to look casual, he leaned against a pillar.
‘Sorry. But Ruth shouldn’t have done that and people might be pissed off if they knew. I don’t want her to get in trouble, so you really can’t say anything.’
‘Hey,’ she said icily. ‘No worries, mate. And while we’re all about honesty maybe you could tell me what tonight’s performance was about? How did you all end up cut to pieces in the middle of the forest?’
Crossing his arms, he looked at her coldly. A long silence fell.
‘Well, thanks for the inquisition and the threats and everything. It’s been really great. But I should probably be going.’ Allie affected her most bored expression.
Carter stared at her as if there was something else he wanted to say. In fact, she could almost pinpoint the moment when he decided not to say it.
‘You make a good bandage,’ he said instead. ‘Where’d you learn to do that? Crimea?’
She thought about just getting up and walking out. But she stayed. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe curiosity.
‘London,’ she said. ‘First aid class. Girl Guides.’
He raised one sardonic eyebrow. ‘You were in the Girl Guides? No way.’
She couldn’t figure out why they were having this jovial conversation after he’d just gone all Hannibal Lecter on her but she decided to go along with it.
‘Yes way. I was a kid then but that stuff stays with you. Bandage-tying. Butterfly-catching. Jam-making. I can do it all.’
He barked a short laugh but Allie didn’t smile. ‘What’s really going on around here, Carter? I mean, what happened to you tonight? Did you guys get in a fight? It looked really bad.’
If he’d closed a door in her face it couldn’t have been more clear. His eyes went blank.
‘Just let it go,’ he snapped. ‘And don’t ask anybody else either. Nobody will tell you a thing and people will get angry if they know you’re asking.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s nearly eleven. We have to go.’
He blew out the candles and the room plunged into darkness.
As she walked towards where she thought the door might be Allie tripped over something in the darkness. Carter caught her. For just a second they stood face-to-face. Though he was wreathed in shadows, Allie thought he looked almost sorry.
But I’m probably wrong about that.
‘This way,’ he said, leading her by the hand through the dark room with the confidence of somebody who’d done it many times. His fingers felt warm and strong against hers, but she really didn’t want him touching her right now – she moved stiffly beside him.
By the time they emerged blinking into the lights of the empty hall his face was studiously expressionless.
‘It’s eleven, Sheridan. You should hurry. You don’t want detention again.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Blood and gore we can have. But Allie out after curfew? That would be a disaster.’
‘Good night, Sheridan,’ he said, firmly.
She turned for the stairs.
‘Whatever, Carter.’
?
??You have to trust me, Allie.’
Carter’s eyes looked into hers intently but she resisted.
‘Why would I trust you? You don’t trust me.’
They were standing in the great hall. It was filled with lighted candles – they glittered on windowsills, table tops, and in hugely tall candelabra. The heat they gave off was intense.
Carter’s eyes glittered in the light. ‘But I can help you …’
Someone banged on the door loudly. Threateningly. Allie felt her heart pound.
‘They’re here,’ he said.
The banging came again, more insistent this time. The noise was almost deafening and Allie covered her ears.
‘Who is it? Who’s here, Carter?’
His voice was urgent. ‘You have to trust me. Do you trust me?’
Over his shoulder she could see the door was cracking under the strain of the pounding.
‘Yes!’ Allie cried, reaching out for him. ‘Yes! I trust you.’
Gasping, Allie sat up in bed clutching the duvet in tight fists.
A loud bang made her jump but it was only the wooden shutter thrown against the wall by a stiff breeze coming through the open window.
Climbing up on top of the desk to look out the window, she saw a storm had blown up during the night – the trees swayed, and leaves, freed from their branches, rode the wind high above her.
The air smelled fresh as she latched the window tightly into place and climbed back into bed.
Pulling the covers up she muttered aloud, ‘Get out of my head, Carter West.’
NINE
When classes resumed on Monday, Allie had the discomforting sense that none of the weekend’s events had actually occurred. Everyone took their normal seats in class at the normal time. And Jerry and Zelazny treated her exactly as if they’d never seen her wrap a bandage in the pouring rain.
Sylvain wasn’t in English class, but Carter arrived late as usual and just smirked when Isabelle gave him an exasperated look. If he hadn’t still been wearing a bandage on his forehead she might have thought she imagined the entire thing.
Between classes, she met Jo in the library and they talked in whispers about what had happened after they’d parted. Jo told her Gabe hadn’t even needed stitches in the end, and that the nurse had commented approvingly on Allie’s bandaging technique.
‘Now Gabe really wants to know how we ended up at the summerhouse, but … since you told me not to say anything about Ruth, I haven’t. Why don’t you want me to tell him?’
Allie leaned closer. ‘I can’t … It’s just … important that you don’t.’
In fact, she’d been up half the night trying to decide what to tell Jo. She would not lie to her only real friend at Cimmeria, but she’d promised Carter not to tell.
‘I don’t know how to explain it. I just heard that Ruth could get into trouble or something.’
She watched Jo’s face as she considered this explanation.
‘OK, but if I don’t tell him the truth, what reason do I give him for us being there?’
Allie twirled a pen anxiously between her fingers so that it spun without stopping between every finger on her right hand until it reached the pinkie.
‘We could say that we were playing Truth or Dare, and kind of spying on them. Or that I wanted to go for a run in the rain and you tried to stop me.’
Jo tilted her head to one side. ‘Of those two very poor options, the first one is slightly less crap.’
Allie smiled. ‘Thanks Jo.’
Over the next few days, rumours were rife about what had occurred down in the woods that night. Everybody knew that several people had been hurt, but there was widespread confusion over just what had happened. Students were forbidden from going out onto the grounds, and that only made the gossip worse. Nobody seemed to know that Allie and Jo had been there, and the most common rumour was that the boys had run afoul of the same fox Jo and Allie had encountered, although everybody seemed to think it very unlikely.
Phil didn’t return to class that week, but Ruth said he was feeling better and would be back soon.
Given the fact that they were all, as Allie saw it, under house arrest, at least the weather was terrible. Throughout the week the rain was unrelenting. It was not as heavy as it had been on Sunday, but it was steady and the days were grey.
The teachers seemed to be amped up on educational adrenalin and that soon became the main topic of conversation at meals and breaks. The students discussed with increasing dismay the amount of work being assigned. Allie and Jo were in the library every evening until curfew, trying to keep up.
By the time Allie ran into Sylvain on Thursday evening as she came out of the library in search of a cup of tea, she was exhausted. He fell into step with her as she headed towards the dining room.
‘Well, well. Hello, ma belle Allie. How are you? I haven’t seen you since the weekend.’
Allie felt her heart beat faster but she tried to sound like seeing him was no big deal. She hoped he wouldn’t ask where she’d disappeared to when she ran away from him. ‘I’m good. Just trying to keep from being so buried in homework that I’m never seen again.’
He nodded. ‘I know. The teachers are suddenly very busy making work for us.’
She turned to him. ‘And what’s up with that? Are they always this evil?’
He smiled and his eyes sparkled. ‘No, this is unusual even for Cimmeria. I think it’s possible they are keeping everybody too busy to try to sneak outside.’
Allie tried to hide her surprise.
‘Because of the other night?’ she asked.
‘Perhaps.’
She looked longingly towards the front door. ‘I’d love to go outside …’
‘Are you bored, ma belle?’ Moving so quickly she didn’t have time to react he took her hand and pulled her closer to him. ‘I could read your palm. Perhaps that would amuse you. And I would see into your soul.’
‘You can read palms?’ Her voice was doubtful but she liked the feeling of her hand in his.
‘Of course,’ he smiled. ‘Can’t you? It’s easy.’
Turning her hand over, he ran his finger along the shallow lines of her hand with a touch as light as a cat’s whisker.
‘You have a very long life line,’ he murmured tracing a line from her wrist to the middle of her palm. ‘And your heart line is strong. See this line here?’ He ran his fingertips along a line that ended between her thumb and index finger. She shivered at the delicacy of his touch. ‘Do you know what that tells me?’
Mute, Allie shook her head.
‘It tells me you are in love with someone. Or maybe that you will be soon.’
Her body tingling from his touch, Allie tried to think of a witty reply but before she could speak the library door swung open.
Jo said, ‘Hey Allie, don’t forget the …’ When she saw Sylvain her voice trailed off. ‘Oops, oh dear, I think I forgot my …’
Improvising badly Jo ducked back inside. A moment later the door opened again and a group of students walked out chatting. Allie could hear Jo whispering at them ‘No, wait a second …’
Sylvain dropped Allie’s hand with a regretful smile. ‘I should like to explore that topic further with you sometime,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said, flustered. ‘Let’s … do.’
‘Perhaps we could meet after dinner on Saturday to … talk?’ he said.
‘Sure,’ she said, trying not to sound breathless.
He smiled. ‘Good. I’ll find you in the dining hall. See you then.’
‘See you then,’ she parroted back inanely.
Throughout the week the pace of schoolwork never let up. To make things worse, on Friday all students were given research papers to complete over the weekend. When assignment slips were handed out in history class, Zelazny’s neat handwriting glared at Allie from the page:
3000 words on the socio-economic impact of the English civil war on the agrarian society of the day.
Due Mon
day. No exceptions. No excuses.
The library was so crowded on Friday afternoon that, once every seat was taken, students spilled out into the hallway where they sat on the floor in small clusters, their books and papers spread out around them.
‘We look like refugees,’ Jo muttered, as she and Allie carried armloads of books out to a free spot near the school’s front door.
‘It’s mad. How long can they keep this up?’ As she spoke, Allie was balancing a china cup of tea on a century-old history book and lowering herself to the floor.
‘Good question,’ Jo said, snatching the cup from its precarious perch before it could crash to the stone floor.
‘Thanks.’ Allie settled down with her back against the wall.
Jo took a sip of Allie’s tea. ‘I should have got one of those. Now I’ll just end up drinking yours.’
‘And we definitely should have got biscuits.’
‘We’re idiots.’
Allie shuffled her books, a frown of concentration creasing her forehead. ‘Where’s Gabe today? I’ve hardly seen him or Sylvain all week.’
Jo was choosing a notebook. ‘Dunno. He said he had something to do and would do his paper later.’
‘Weird,’ Allie said. ‘The teachers are being so tough but Sylvain and Gabe don’t seem to mind.’
Jo shrugged. ‘Nobody’s telling me much about what’s going on. Gabe and I had a row about it and we never row.’
‘Boys are rubbish,’ Allie said, opening her book.
Having finally found the right notebook, Jo was now focused on finding something it contained, and she rustled through its pages as she spoke absently. ‘All I know is all the Night School guys are out every single night, and I’m sure it has something to do with the other night. But it’s top secret.’
Allie stopped and stared at her, a brittle, yellowing book page still gripped between her fingers.
‘Wait. You know who’s in Night School?’
Jo froze, guilt spreading across her expression. ‘No. Not really. I mean, I kind of … guessed. Anyway, a few are pretty obvious about it.’
‘Like who?’
‘I don’t know, really,’ Jo said carefully. ‘I mean, just guessing, it could be Sylvain, and Phil, maybe Lucas, and, possibly Gabe and Carter, I mean, but who knows?’