Night School

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.