Night School

That afternoon, Rachel brought Allie a skirt and blouse that smelled like a bonfire.

‘They let me in the dorm for all of three seconds. I raided your wardrobe for these,’ she said. ‘Sorry about the stench.’

‘No worries,’ Allie said. ‘I’m just psyched to finally get out of these chargrilled pyjamas.’

‘They said we could go up to get our stuff tomorrow,’ Rachel said. ‘With supervision, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Allie gave a wry smile. ‘Health and safety.’

‘Everybody’s going home today and tomorrow – my dad’s coming tomorrow morning,’ Rachel said. ‘The offer still stands if you want to come stay with us.’

‘Thanks, Rach,’ Allie said. ‘I still might take you up on it.’

After a shower in the teachers’ bathroom to scrub the soot out of her hair, Allie began to feel human again. Rachel had forgotten shoes though, so when she padded down the stairs later she was still barefoot. But she walked with purpose straight to Isabelle’s office and knocked.

The door opened before her knuckles left the wood and without a word Isabelle wrapped her in a bear hug. Then she held her at arm’s length and studied her face.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I think so,’ Allie whispered.

The headmistress held the door open for her. ‘Come in, sit.’

‘How’s Jo?’ Allie asked.

‘Not good,’ Isabelle said, sitting beside her as the kettle rumbled in the background. ‘She’s very upset, understandably.’

Allie hesitated – not sure if she could even bring herself to ask the next question.

‘Gabe?’ she whispered finally.

Isabelle shook her head. ‘He’s gone. When Zelazny and Matthew went to find him he’d disappeared. We think he might have gone last night during the fire.’

Somehow Allie wasn’t surprised. She took a steadying breath.

‘So … what happens now?’

‘We will look for him.’ Isabelle busied herself making tea. ‘We’ll let his parents know. We will try to make sure he’s safe. We will take care of Jo. And then we will find a way to deal with Nathaniel.’

‘I want to help,’ Allie said.

‘You will,’ Isabelle said. ‘I promise you that.’

‘No, Isabelle.’ Allie’s voice was firm. ‘I mean I want to help. I want to be involved in everything from now on.’

The headmistress looked at her blankly and Allie tried not to let the frustration and tension she felt into her voice. If she ever needed to act grown-up, now was the time.

‘I’m in the middle of all of this. In some ways, Gabe was right and this is about me. Nathaniel has Christopher and now he wants me, too. That’s true, isn’t it? All this term I’ve been rescued and saved and helped, and everybody’s all about protecting me, which is wonderful, and I am grateful. But I want to protect myself. Right now, I can’t ever save myself. I don’t know how.’ She steadied her nerves. ‘But there’s one place where I could get the skill to do that.’

Isabelle spoke slowly. ‘You want to join Night School.’

‘Doesn’t it make sense?’ Allie wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I need to be stronger and faster. I need to know how to fight. And I need to know what’s happening so that I can do the right things. I’m never just going to do what you say if you say “Allie don’t go outside”. But if you include me in stuff … That’s different.’

A heavy silence fell. She could see that Isabelle was thinking. After a second the headmistress handed her a cup of strange-smelling herbal tea with lemon.

‘For your throat. Drink it.’ She sat down beside her. ‘OK, then. I agree. I’ll talk to the others.’

A thrill of excitement rushed through Allie. As if she’d seen that, Isabelle hurried to quash it. ‘It’s not my decision alone, Allie. Others will have to agree. But I will back you up.’

Even though she heard Isabelle’s caution, Allie didn’t believe it. She knew Isabelle could do anything she wanted.

She was in.

Changing the subject, Isabelle said, ‘You sound terrible, by the way. Did the doctor look at your throat?’

A doctor had visited Allie an hour ago to examine her. He’d pronounced her throat ‘Not as bad as it could have been’, and given her a bottle of pills and something to gargle.

She nodded. ‘He said I’ll live. But I’ll never sing with the opera.’

‘Puccini will get along without you,’ Isabelle said. ‘It could have been much worse.’

‘That’s what I thought. How’s Jules?’

Isabelle nodded. ‘She’s doing very well. She has a concussion – she tripped and hit her head. It knocked her unconscious. But she was spared the worst of the smoke and heat, so her lungs weren’t permanently damaged. She’ll be back here tonight.’

Guiltily, Allie remembered how she’d doubted Jules up to the last minute in the library.

‘I’m so glad she’s OK,’ she said. ‘She was very brave.’

‘She said the same thing about you.’

Allie asked the next question with trepidation.