When she’d returned to the school building, Isabelle had gone to meet her, ordering Allie to stay in her office. But she left the door open. So Allie had heard Eloise’s cheerful voice saying, ‘I got your message. What’s up?’
It was Raj who replied, but Allie couldn’t make out his words. Whatever it was it had upset Eloise, whose panic was clear.
‘What? No. That’s ridiculous.’ Then a moment later: ‘Isabelle, please. Don’t let them do this.’
Allie had reached the hallway in time to see them march the librarian away like a prisoner, Zelazny on one side, Raj on the other.
At the sight, her stomach flipped – she knew just what that felt like.
Giving up on sleep, she kicked off the covers and climbed on to the top of her desk to throw open the arched window. Closing her eyes she let the cold fresh air wash over her.
If only there was somebody to talk to about this. Last term, she’d be climbing out of the window right now and running across to the boys’ side of the building to slip through Carter’s window and tell him everything.
She looked longingly at the sturdy ledge beneath the window frame. Then she shook her head and looked away. Those days were over.
But who else was there to talk to? Rachel wasn’t in Night School, so she couldn’t really talk to her about it. Zoe was only thirteen and, although she was freakishly smart, she was just a kid.
The chill had begun to seep into her bones and she was closing the window when someone tapped lightly at her door.
Frowning, Allie glanced at the alarm clock beside her.
Half five in the morning. Who would be knocking at this hour?
When she opened the door, Nicole stood on the other side. In her dark blue pyjamas and thick, white dressing gown, she looked uncharacteristically imperfect – her long, dark hair was dishevelled and she wore no makeup; Allie could see a red map of tiny pimples scattered across one cheek.
So Nicole was human, too, behind her fa?ade of perfection.
‘I’m sorry,’ the French girl said, blithely unaware of the intense scrutiny she was under at that moment. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe you might be up, too.’
‘Totally.’ Allie stepped back to let her in. ‘I’m glad it’s not just me.’
‘Well. It was a strange night.’ Nicole’s tone was wry. Without waiting to be asked, she sat on the end of the bed, pulled the blanket off the footboard and draped it across her legs.
‘It’s colder in here than in my room,’ she observed.
Allie admired her confidence; she seemed to just take charge of the situation wherever she was, and to feel comfortable no matter what she was doing.
Climbing back into bed, Allie pulled the covers up against the chill that still pervaded the room after she’d closed the window.
‘After you left, Zelazny and Jerry Cole came to talk to us.’ Nicole spoke quietly. ‘They asked so many questions, but they wouldn’t tell us where you were. It was so stupid – like they’re playing war games again, you know?’
Allie nodded. She hated when things went wrong and the teachers acted like Cimmeria Academy was MI5 or something.
‘Did they… did they mention Eloise?’ Allie spoke hesitantly.
Nicole’s huge dark eyes shot up to meet hers. ‘They asked us about her a lot. Is she in trouble? I was very confused by that.’ Her delicate brow furrowed.
For a second, Allie paused, unsure of how much to reveal. But Nicole was a senior Night School student so she’d find out soon enough.
‘They think she’s Nathaniel’s spy.’
Although her voice was just above a whisper, her words seem to hang in the air, like the reverberations of a bell.
At first, Nicole was too shocked to respond. Then she gasped in dismay. ‘Oh no – but that’s ridiculous.’ She muttered something in angry French. ‘Why do they think this? I don’t understand.’
Heat flooded Allie’s face; she dropped her eyes. ‘It’s my fault,’ she confessed. ‘I… saw something and I told them. Then they freaked.’
To her surprise, Nicole took this remarkably well. ‘What did you see?’
Allie told her about Isabelle’s office, Eloise and the key.
When she’d finished, Nicole frowned with thought. ‘That is strange. I don’t understand why…’ She glanced up at Allie. ‘Isabelle said there was no reason for her to be there?’
Allie gave glum assent.
‘Oh no.’ Nicole slumped back against the wall. ‘This is terrible. It can’t be her. I don’t want it to be Eloise.’
‘That’s what I thought but then… I don’t know. It looks bad,’ Allie said.
‘Wait.’ Straightening, Nicole tapped a pale pink nail against her chin thoughtfully. ‘Let’s think this over.’
Burying her face in her hands, Allie groaned. ‘Do we have to? Isabelle and I talked about it for hours. We found nothing to help Eloise.’
But Nicole was not dissuaded. ‘I have had a thought. You say she was sweaty? And seemed nervous?’
Allie nodded.
Nicole absorbed this before asking, ‘Was her hair… what’s the English term… rumpled? Like bed hair?’
Allie was baffled – how could that help?
She gave a puzzled shrug. ‘Yeah, I guess.’