Night School

‘Now,’ Carter whispered, ‘we wait.’


Above them, a full moon cast the grounds in a ghostly blue glow. In its light they could see quite clearly. So when a group of shadowy figures slipped out of the front door twenty minutes later they saw their every move.

After the figures made their way to the footpath that led to the chapel, Carter signalled her to follow, and they jogged slowly down the path, avoiding twigs that could snap underfoot and give them away. Carter ran about ten feet ahead of her, ensuring that their targets were just far enough away not to hear their footsteps.

They were nearly to the church when they heard voices. Dropping back, Carter grabbed her arm and they stopped in the shadow of the churchyard wall. Just ahead of them, the gate to the churchyard stood open and he crept through to look around, then motioned for her to follow him.

‘These theatrics, Nathaniel, are tedious.’

Isabelle’s voice. Allie could hear her clearly but could see nobody. Where was she?

Carter crossed to the yew tree, easily avoiding gravestones, rocks and other dangers, while she picked her way gingerly behind him.

‘Hurry,’ he whispered.

She frowned into the darkness. ‘I am hurrying.’

He pulled himself up onto the big low branch, then leaned down for her hand and pulled her up beside him. Using that method they climbed the ancient tree one branch at a time, until they were sitting well above the fence top. Carter sat on one branch with Allie just below him. She couldn’t actually see him without craning her head but she could still sense tension in his body. He was alert; poised.

Through the narrow and twisted branches around them, they could see the stream that ran behind the church, down to the pond. The moon helpfully illuminated the scene.

A man stood on the far bank, meadow grasses up to his knees. A large German Shepherd dog sat beside him, still as a statue. Isabelle stood directly across from him on the near bank, her arms crossed. Allie could see irritation in her posture.

Leaning forward in her high perch, Allie studied Nathaniel with fascination. Wearing dark trousers with a black, short-sleeved shirt, he was neither particularly tall nor short. He had thick, dark hair and stylish glasses. In fact, he was ordinary looking in every way. But he exuded power; more panther than lion.

Tearing her eyes away from him, she looked across at the headmistress. Her clothes were unusual for her – a simple black tunic and leggings with knee-high boots. Allie got the feeling she was trying to look tough.

‘All I want to know, Isabelle, is this.’ Nathaniel’s voice was a not unpleasant baritone, but something about it made Allie’s skin crawl. ‘Are you willing to do the right thing at last?’

Isabelle ignored the question. ‘What set this off, Nathaniel? I thought you were satisfied with our arrangement.’

The wind picked up and for a moment Allie lost their voices in the rustling of trees. When she could hear them again, Nathaniel was speaking.

‘… so I agreed to try to do things your way. I’ve been patient. Now it’s my turn.’

For the first time, Isabelle moved, stepping towards the river, closing the gap between them. ‘What you did the night of the ball was barbaric, Nathaniel. Why would anybody give you control of this school after that?’

‘I did what I had to do,’ he said. ‘If you had just honoured our arrangement none of that would have been necessary.’

‘What you had to do?’ Her voice rose in anger. ‘Killing one of my students in cold blood was something you had to do?’

Nathaniel arched one eyebrow. ‘One of your students was killed? I had no idea. Perhaps you should talk to your staff. Nobody was killed by me or my people.’

Allie saw Isabelle’s shoulders stiffen.

‘A student’s throat was cut from ear to ear,’ she said. ‘Are you telling me you had nothing to do with that?’

He had a predator’s grin. ‘Sounds to me like your school is a very dangerous place, headmistress. I wouldn’t want my children to go there.’

She looked at him sceptically and he held up his right hand. ‘I swear we had nothing to do with that. On my honour.’

‘Your honour …’ Isabelle’s tone was disdainful, but something in her voice told Allie she believed him.

‘Let me tell you what I think is behind all of this,’ Isabelle said. ‘I think you can see that the school is successful. That the tide is turning against you and your views. And that many of those on the board who once disagreed with me are now reconsidering their stance. But you’re so arrogant that you still want to prove that your way is better.’

‘Enough of this.’ Nathaniel stepped closer to the water, the dog stayed where it was, its eyes fixed on Isabelle. ‘Here are my terms, Isabelle. You will tell the board that you have changed your bizarre beliefs. That you realise how wrong you have been. And that you wish to turn the running of Cimmeria over to me.’