Night School

‘Yes.’ Allie’s voice quivered slightly, and she hated that.

‘All students must be in this room before the start of every meal. You cut it a little too close today. As did you, Miss Arringford.’ He spun on his heel and pointed at Jo, who regarded him fearlessly. He looked back at Allie. ‘Don’t let it happen again. New or not, the next time you’re late you’ll face detention.’

He strode away, his heels making a clicking sound in the hushed room. Allie stared at her empty plate, feeling the room’s eyes on her. Her cheeks flushed with anger. She was two seconds late. He had no right to humiliate her in front of the entire school for that.

She couldn’t believe it. She’d only just arrived, and already she was in trouble.

Looking over at the nearby table she saw Jo watching her. Briefly their eyes met and Jo gave a cheeky smile and another wink before she returned to talking and laughing as if nothing had happened. Allie watched as a boy rubbed Jo’s arm and she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment smiling at something he’d said.

Allie felt both better and worse.

The others at her table were talking busily to one another, pointedly ignoring her. All except Sylvain, who looked concerned.

‘Who was that?’ she asked, folding and unfolding her linen napkin, pretending that what had happened wasn’t that important.

‘Mr Zelazny,’ he said. ‘History teacher. A bit officious as you’ve now seen. He sees himself as the school’s enforcer. I’d like to say that you shouldn’t worry, but in reality you don’t want to get on his bad side. He can make your life … unhappy. If I were you, I’d be early for meals for the next few days. He will be watching you.’

‘Great,’ Allie said resignedly.

Just my bloody luck.

All around them students began rising from their tables and walking out. Allie saw that they left their plates and glasses on the table.

‘Don’t we help clear the tables?’ she asked, surprised.

The girls around Katie giggled.

Katie looked puzzled. ‘Of course not. The staff do that.’

Allie turned to Sylvain, but his seat was empty. He was gone. She could hear more giggling and whispering around the table, and she’d had just about enough of that today, so without another word she joined those walking to the door.

She felt tired and defeated. What she wouldn’t give to go back to her room and listen to her MP3 player while texting Mark and Harry about the weird people she’d met today. But that world seemed very far away from Cimmeria’s stuffy, antiquated universe where technology didn’t exist, and people were too pampered to pick up their own dinner plates and carry them to the kitchen.

Out in the hallway she saw the students were walking in several directions. Some were going outside, while others headed into the common room or library. They all seemed to be travelling in groups of friends, talking and laughing.

Alone, Allie climbed the stairs towards the girls’ rooms.

Twenty-four steps to the first floor, and twenty more to the second, then seventeen steps down the hall to her room.

Once inside she saw that somebody had been in while she was at dinner. The window was closed, although the shutter was still open. The bed was now covered in crisp white sheets and a fluffy white duvet; a dark blue blanket folded neatly across the footboard. The clothes she’d thrown on the floor had disappeared, replaced by a pair of soft white slippers. Two white towels were folded up on the chair with a bar of soap on top. The papers on the desk had been straightened into a neat pile.

Somebody around here’s a neat freak.

Kicking off her shoes, Allie picked up the papers and threw herself onto the bed. She’d only made it halfway through, though, when the evening light began disappearing from the sky.

She yawned into her course schedule.

Shoving her feet into the slippers, she grabbed her toothbrush and headed towards the bathroom. She opened the door with slight trepidation, but the room was empty. As she cleaned her teeth she studied herself in the mirror. Did she look older now than she had a week ago? She felt older.

Back in her room she closed the shutter over the window and climbed into bed. But when she switched off the desk lamp the room was plunged into total darkness. It was way too dark. She groped for the lamp on the desk, knocking over her alarm clock as she hurriedly switched the light back on.

Jumping out of bed, she opened the shutter. The last light of the summer day bathed the room with a soft glow.

That was better.

Switching off the lamp, she lay watching the last glimmers of sunlight disappear and the stars appear. She’d counted one hundred and forty-seven breaths when she fell asleep.