Night School

  Rachel’s almond-shaped eyes were wide with surprise, but she never lost her cool.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Ask me anything.’

  ‘Have you ever gossiped about me?’

  Rachel didn’t even hesitate.

  ‘Before I met you I did,’ she said. ‘Because I gossip about everybody. But as soon as I met you I stopped talking about you and I have never done it again. Ever.’

  Watching her closely, Allie saw not a flicker of hesitation. Not the slightest sign that she was even uncomfortable with the question. She just seemed … herself. All of Allie’s instincts told her she could trust her.

  ‘The thing is,’ Allie said, ‘everybody seems to lie to me. My parents. Isabelle. Jo. I’m losing faith in …’

  ‘Everyone?’ Rachel finished for her. Allie nodded.

  Rachel put her hand on her heart. ‘I swear on my family, Allie, I’m not one of them. You can trust me.’

  Somehow, Allie knew it was true.

  Leaning forward, she pulled Rachel into a hug. ‘I believe you. I’m sorry I had to ask.’

  ‘I understand,’ Rachel said, hugging her back. ‘Maybe more than you know. Remember, I’ve been here a while. There’s a reason I choose not to have many friends. Now, tell me what happened that upset you.’

  Allie told her briefly about her meeting with Isabelle, and about asking her if she was legacy. When she told her Isabelle’s answer, Rachel breath hissed through her teeth.

  ‘She admitted it? Blimey O’Reilly! What did you say?’

  ‘I tried to make her be specific,’ Allie said, remembering the look on Isabelle’s face – she’d seem torn.

  ‘My mum went to school here, didn’t she?’ she’d asked the headmistress. ‘You knew each other then.’

  Isabelle nodded. ‘She did. We were in the same class. She was one of my closest friends.’

  Allie’s brow creased. ‘Then why have I never met you before? Or heard of this school?’

  ‘It’s a very long story, Allie, although I want you to know that your mother never fell out with me. She fell out with Cimmeria. And the people behind it.’ She looked sombre. ‘I think you should really talk about this with her. She wouldn’t want me to be the one to tell you her story. It’s not my place. But I can tell you that when she completed her education here she left all of this behind. I don’t think she ever looked back. She hated it here. And I believe that’s why she never told you about it.’

  Setting her teacup down on a table, Allie had pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees. ‘But she sent me here.’

  Isabelle nodded.

  ‘Why would she send me to a school she hated?’ Allie’s voice rose querulously.

  ‘She couldn’t handle you,’ Isabelle said. ‘And that’s not your fault, it’s hers. And she knows that. After Christopher … left, she wasn’t herself. She worried herself into a place where she couldn’t be a good mum to you any more.’

  An unexpected wave of grief washed over Allie and she bent forward until her head rested on her knees, trying not to cry.

  ‘Sending you here was one of the bravest things she’s ever done in her life, Allie,’ Isabelle said gently. ‘She knew you were in trouble where you were. But to send you here she had to ask for help from … from people she’d left behind her long ago. And that was hard.’

  Allie watched a tear fall onto her knee.

  ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me before?’ she asked, her voice muffled. ‘You and Mum are friends and neither of you ever told me. Isn’t that like lying?’

  Isabelle rested her hand on Allie’s shoulder. Her voice was low and calm.

  ‘She begged me not to tell you, and I had to honour her wishes because you are her daughter, not mine. I think she was wrong not to tell you the truth, and she knows I think that. But I couldn’t betray her trust.’ She sounded like she, too, was fighting tears now. ‘But I didn’t want to betray your trust either. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.’

  Allie took a shaky breath. ‘Are you keeping other things from me, too?’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘Adults,’ Isabelle said carefully, ‘can’t tell young people everything they know. That isn’t how things work. They tell them as much as they can to keep them safe. So, yes, I’m keeping some things from you until I think you’re ready to know them. But please believe me that I will tell you when you’re ready.’

  Allie’s grief was usurped by anger. Why do adults always feel they’re better suited to deal with important issues just because they’re older? Why do they think that gives them the right to lie?

  But Isabelle wasn’t done yet. ‘And some of this – a lot of this – needs to come from your own parents. Not from me. You need to ask them these questions first, and give them a chance to be honest with you. If they won’t tell you, or you think they’re not being honest, then come to me. And I will tell you what I can.’

  ‘How can I ask my parents anything?’ Allie’s voice rose. ‘I haven’t called them because I was waiting to see if they would call me. It seemed to me, if they missed me they’d call. Or at least write. But they haven’t. They’re useless.’

  ‘Your mother hasn’t talked with you because she wanted you to have time to think.’ Isabelle’s voice was sorrowful. ‘Time to decide whether or not you wanted to stay here. And whether or not you could forgive her. I know without a single doubt that she is sorry about how hard this has been on you. Because she is who she is, she can’t tell you that.’

  She added in a whisper, ‘But I can.’

  Allie buried her face in her hands so Isabelle wouldn’t see her cry, but she felt the headmistress wrap her arms around her.

  Later, when she’d quieted, Isabelle gave her a tissue, and put her teacup back into her hands.

  ‘You need to understand, Allie,’ she said, ‘that you still have much to learn about yourself. Your family has a long and unique history. Your mother rejected that history, so she chose not to tell you about it. I think that’s a shame. You have a most astonishing bloodline. Ask her about it.

  ‘And I hope you will forgive your parents. They did what they thought was right.’

  When Allie’d finished telling the story Rachel leaned back in her seat. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That is so intense. And, I don’t care what she says. Your parents are profoundly lame. But I’m super-curious about what she means about your bloodline.’

  ‘It’s got to be Lucinda,’ Allie said. ‘Whoever she is.’

  ‘Your mysterious would-be-grandmother …’ Rachel mused. ‘No doubt – she’s the key. You didn’t ask Isabelle about her?’

  ‘No. I got side-tracked with all that my-parents-are-rubbish rubbish.’

  ‘It’s driving me crazy,’ Rachel said. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘I wish I knew.’

  Rachel gave her a challenging look. ‘You know what I’m going to say.’

  Allie sighed. ‘Your dad …’

  ‘… knows everything,’ Rachel finished for her. ‘Let me tell him what’s going on.’

  ‘Carter doesn’t want to tell anybody else – particularly not a board member like your dad,’ Allie said. ‘He’s still cross with me for telling you.’

  ‘Fine,’ Rachel said. ‘But it’s not his family we’re talking about here. It’s yours and mine.’

  She had a point.

  ‘Let me think about it,’ Allie said. ‘I might need to work on Carter a bit.’

  ‘OK,’ Rachel said, ‘but don’t take too long to think. The term ends on Friday.’

  By Monday, Allie still hadn’t made up her mind what to tell Rachel about her dad, but when she walked to the dining hall at lunchtime all thoughts of the end of term, Lucinda and danger flew out of her mind when she saw Lisa standing in the doorway. She was pale and even thinner than before, but the only visible reminder of the attack she bore was the red scar on her cheek.

  ‘Lisa! Oh my God.’ Allie ran over to hug her. ‘When did you get back? How are you?’

/>   ‘Hi Allie. I got here a couple of hours ago.’ She smiled wanly. ‘My parents didn’t want me to miss my exams, and I was feeling better so …’

  ‘That sucks,’ Allie said. ‘Well, welcome back! It’s been all wrong without you. I’m glad you’re here for, like, five whole days.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Lisa looked around the room, clearly puzzled. ‘What’s going on? Nobody’s at our table. And Jo’s off over there with …’ She gestured at the corner of the room where Jo sat with Ismay and Katie.

  Allie nodded. ‘It’s bad. Jo hates me now.’

  ‘Get out.’ Lisa looked at her doubtfully.

  ‘No, I’m serious. A lot of stuff happened while you were gone. The group is pretty much over for now. Everybody’s divided. I sit with Rachel Patel and Lucas most days if they’re around, and Carter.’

  ‘Why? What on earth happened?’

  ‘Oh God, it’s the longest story in the history of stupid,’ Allie sighed. ‘Just trust me: Jo hates me. But somehow I’m surviving.’

  Lisa seemed lost. ‘I have no idea where to sit now,’ she said plaintively.

  Allie’s lips curved into a wicked smile. ‘Well, you could sit with Jo and Katie Gilmore. Or you could sit with me and Lucas.’

  ‘Lead the way,’ Lisa said with a guilty giggle. They walked over to where Rachel and Lucas were already piling sandwiches onto their plates.

  Over lunch they took turns filling Lisa in on all that had happened while she’d been home recovering. Allie tried to be fair in telling her side of things, but Lisa seemed to have no trouble believing the worst.

  ‘Oh, Jo …’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Not this again.’

  Lucas sighed. ‘That’s just what I said. It all seems a bit too familiar.’

  ‘But blaming Allie, when we all know she does this stuff …’ Lisa said. ‘That’s so mean.’

  ‘Katie’s taking advantage of her,’ Rachel said. ‘She’s using her. And Jo must be pretty broken if she’s falling for it.’

  When Carter appeared late, his lips lightly brushed Allie’s head before he slid into the seat next to her. Lisa’s eyes widened, but Allie was smiling at Carter and didn’t care that Lucas elbowed Lisa lightly in the ribs.

  Aside from that, though, there were no sparks between Lisa and Lucas. In fact, at one point Allie noticed Lisa watching Lucas and Rachel with concern, and for the first time she realised how close they sat together and how companionable they seemed.

  Maybe Rachel was thinking about forgiving him after all.

  She didn’t like the idea of finding herself in the middle of a Rachel-Lucas-Lisa triangle but, at the same time, she wanted Rachel to have the guy who made her happy.

  A worried frown briefly lined her brow.

  Why does love always have to be such a mess?

  At eleven that night, Allie raised her head from her books.

  ‘Sustenance,’ she muttered. ‘I must have sustenance.’

  She was studying in the library with Carter, Lisa and Rachel, and had been since dinner ended. Library curfew had been extended to midnight for the week and even at this hour the place was packed.

  ‘I’m going to get something to drink,’ Allie said. ‘Any takers?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lisa said, barely looking up from her book.

  Rachel said, ‘I don’t want to be pedantic about this, but we did just take a break an hour ago.’

  ‘Allie likes breaks more than she likes studying,’ Carter observed.

  ‘How is that not normal?’ Allie said, getting to her feet. ‘Fine. You stay here. I shall return when I’ve found food. And when you all faint from hunger later don’t think you can just feed on me.’

  Emerging from the room bleary eyed, she headed straight for a table stocked with power bars, bowls of fruit and carafes of tea and coffee outside the library doors. The hallway was lined with students taking study breaks, stretching, sleeping and chatting before diving back into their books.

  ‘Coffee,’ she mumbled, stumbling over to the table.

  As she poured her coffee into a white china cup with the Cimmeria insignia in blue, she surveyed the food with dismay. ‘Why are there no biscuits here?’ she asked nobody in particular. ‘And where is the chocolate? How am I supposed to work under these conditions?’

  ‘I will bring you chocolate.’

  Allie jumped and spun around, barely saving her coffee. ‘Sylvain, bloody hell. You startled me.’

  ‘Désolé – I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  She wasn’t convinced.

  As he poured himself a cup of coffee, Allie turned to leave. ‘Well, it’s been really wonderful talking with you …’

  He took a quick step towards her. ‘Allie, wait. Please. I’d like to talk to you … really.’

  ‘Oh God, do we have to?’ Talking to Sylvain was the last thing she wanted right now.

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said, looking wounded. ‘But I’d appreciate it if you would give me just a few minutes of your time.’

  She sighed. ‘OK. As long as you promise not to apologise to me again.’

  His blue eyes sparkled. ‘I can’t promise never to apologise again, but I want to talk with you about something else right now. However, I am very sor …’

  ‘Right, that’s it,’ she said, heading away from him, but he grabbed her arm lightly, laughing.

  ‘I couldn’t resist, please do not go. I promise not to do it again.’

  She didn’t mean to smile at him but she did. ‘OK, I give in. What’s up?’

  ‘Do you mind …?’ He gestured down the hallway ‘We should go somewhere else.’

  ‘We’re not allowed to go anywhere but here.’ She pointed at the library. ‘It’s after eleven.’

  ‘Oh, the rules are not so strict for me.’ When she shot him a dubious look he added immediately, ‘We will not go far.’

  ‘Five minutes.’ She held up her hand with her fingers splayed. ‘Then I have to get back to work.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  Carrying her coffee cup she followed him down the hallway to the empty entrance hall. Their footsteps echoed in the spacious corridor.

  As soon as they were alone, his demeanour changed. He seemed uncomfortable, and he looked around to make sure that nobody had followed them. His tension made her uneasy.

  ‘So … what did you want to talk about?’ she asked.

  Without warning, he stepped close to her and pulled her into a hug. Before she could pull away he whispered into her ear.

  ‘I am sorry to say, Allie, that you are in danger.’

  ‘Sylvain,’ she hissed, ‘let me go.’

  ‘Please, Allie, pretend we are talking like close friends.’ His pleading tone startled her enough that she stopped trying to get away from him.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ she whispered back.

  ‘I cannot tell you much,’ he said, ‘but I believe that you are in danger. That somebody will try to hurt you.’

  She looked for any sign that he was kidding, but he wasn’t smiling. For the first time she felt a stab of fear.

  ‘Who, Sylvain? Who wants to hurt me?’

  He shook his head. ‘I can tell you nothing. I shouldn’t even tell you this. But, I am worried for you. Please believe me, this is real.’

  ‘Is it Nathaniel?’

  As soon as she said the words, Allie’s hand shot up and covered her mouth.

  A spark of interest lit up his face.

  ‘How do you know about Nathaniel?’

  Carter will murder me.

  ‘I … I just … must have heard a rumour or something …’

  He searched her eyes as if looking for clues.

  ‘Who threatens you,’ he said smoothly, ‘matters less than what could happen if we do not keep you safe. I think you should stay with friends as much as possible – do not spend time alone. Especially not outside.’

  It still seemed strange to Allie that Sylvain was the one telling her about this. She tilted her head to one side du
biously.

  ‘Does Isabelle know?’

  ‘Yes, but she does not want to scare you and thinks she can protect you. Everyone thinks they can keep you safe. I am not so sure. Please believe me. This is real.’

  The warmth of his body still pressed against hers was disturbing. His familiar scent reminded her of how she’d once felt about him – of kissing him.

  Suddenly she needed to be far away from him.

  She exhaled. ‘OK. Fine. I’ll stay with friends, and I won’t go outside much. Don’t freak out.’

  She expected him to walk away at that point, but he stayed where he was, his eyes holding hers.

  ‘What? Is there more?’ she asked. ‘Please say there’s not more.’

  ‘No. I am still trying to figure out how you know about Nathaniel.’

  ‘And I’m still trying to figure out who’s trying to hurt me,’ she said tartly. ‘So I guess we’re even.’

  She could see something in his eyes that seemed to mirror her own conflicted emotions, and that worried her too. Manoeuvring her way out of his arms, she picked up her coffee and began walking back down the hallway. He stayed right by her side.

  When they reached the library door he said quietly: ‘Just remember. Be careful.’

  ‘On it,’ she replied, her voice grim.

  Allie couldn’t decide whether or not to tell Carter about her conversation with Sylvain. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t be happy that she’d spoken with him at all. Definitely not happy that the conversation took place the way it did. But not telling him felt wrong. Not like cheating, necessarily. More like lying. A little.

  But when she returned to the library he was gathering his books to leave for Night School so the decision was made for her – she had time only for a quick goodbye, and she didn’t see him again that night. The next day, because he had time off to sleep, he wasn’t in morning classes. So she never had a chance to tell him.

  At least, that’s how she explained it to herself. And to Rachel, who, to her surprise, took the news very seriously.

  ‘Sylvain’s very high up in Night School, Allie. He may be a complete tosser but if anybody’s going to know this sort of thing? It’s him.’ Rachel’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. ‘Have you spoken to Isabelle?’