Night School

‘Why do you ask that question?’ Her tone was cautious.

‘Something my mother said when she brought me here has been bugging me,’ Allie lied. ‘She called you “Izzy” by mistake, and then corrected herself. As if she knew you. And then Katie and Jo both said something about everybody here being legacy. That made me wonder what I was doing here if I wasn’t legacy.’

She stared hard at the headmistress. ‘Am I legacy, Isabelle?’

Emotion flashed across Isabelle’s face as she hesitated a second too long, but in the end her answer was simple.

‘Yes, Allie. You are very much legacy.’





TWENTY-SEVEN


After leaving Isabelle’s office, Allie stopped to splash cold water on her face before returning to the library. When she sat down, Rachel glanced at her enquiringly.

‘What? Was the dungeon occupied or something?’ she asked with a teasing smile. But when she noticed Allie’s reddened face her expression changed to concern. ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’

Allie smiled wanly. ‘It’s nothing, really. It just turned into an unexpected therapy session.’

‘I hate it when therapy jumps out and surprises you like that,’ Rachel said, but her eyes were still concerned. ‘Want to take a break and talk about it?’

Her sympathy made Allie feel tearful again, and she nodded. She didn’t want to cry in front of everyone.

Rachel led her to a quiet nook down the hall from the library, then went off in search of tissues, returning with a big box and two cups of tea.

‘Tell me everything,’ she said, settling down. ‘Or at least everything you want to tell me.’

Allie started to speak, but then stopped. If today is a truth-telling day, then why stop with Isabelle?

She couldn’t think of a good reason.

‘Before I tell you, I need to ask you a question,’ she said. ‘It might hurt your feelings. But I hope you’ll understand why I need to ask this.’

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.’