Night School

‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said. ‘Let’s wait until tomorrow, though. She’s probably asleep. Everyone is fine now and you do not want to appear to overreact, no?’


Even though she wanted to disagree, she could see the logic – they had, after all, seen nothing. But after the adrenalin in the garden and the rush of the rescue, she wanted to do something. To go back outside and look for whatever that was. Or at least to sit and talk about what had happened. There was no way she’d be able to sleep.

‘Maybe we should go and check on Jo?’ she suggested hopefully.

‘She’s OK – Gabe’s with her.’ Sylvain paused and then continued with some reluctance as if he knew what her response would be. ‘Listen, it is past curfew. You should go to bed and we will deal with all of this tomorrow.’

Allie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘What, seriously? No, Sylvain! I want to talk about what happened. Be completely honest: what did you see out there?’

Sylvain’s reply was carefully framed.

‘I am afraid I saw nothing. Perhaps it was some sort of animal. Maybe you disturbed a fox or a badger.’ As she opened her mouth to protest he held up his hand to stop her. ‘You’re tired, Allie. And I’m tired, too. You really should go to sleep.’

Allie wanted to stay, but arguing about whether or not she was tired didn’t seem like the best reason to break curfew and get detention.

Reluctantly, she acquiesced. ‘Fine then. Good night Sylvain.’

Her tone was brusque, but as she turned to go he caught her wrist and held it gently.

‘What? No good night kiss?’ he said, with a low chuckle. ‘No “thank you for rescuing me, Sylvain”? Not even a “you’re my hero, Sylvain”? You should never go to bed angry, ma belle Allie.’

His blue eyes danced with amusement and he pulled her close, wrapping her in the hug she’d wanted a few minutes ago.

At first, out of sheer stubbornness, she resisted but when he whispered jokingly in her ear, ‘It’s more fun if you help,’ she found herself laughing. His accent was completely irresistible anyway, and those eyes were incredible.

When he kissed her cheek his lips lingered and his breath felt warm and welcome on her skin. She leaned into him, hoping it would last.

‘Now,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘go to bed on your own or I’ll drag you up there myself.’

Allie focused on staying cool but she was melting inside.

‘Whatever,’ she said, turning away before he could see the effect he had on her.

But of course he knew anyway.

‘Sweet dreams,’ he called after her with a light laugh.

She ran up the stairs without looking back.

The next morning Allie was up at six and feeling oddly energetic, as if the adrenalin from last night still rushed through her veins. Standing in front of her wardrobe, she wondered what to wear for hard labour, finally deciding on a pair of tracksuit bottoms, trainers and a white T-shirt with the school’s insignia on the breast. She pulled her hair back with a clip and, grabbing the detention notice, headed downstairs at a trot.

Her stomach grumbled but it was too early for breakfast. Taking a chance, she peeked into the dining room and found it empty, however one table held bacon sandwiches on a warming platter alongside a silver ice bucket filled with water bottles. She walked into the room with some hesitation.

They must be for us, otherwise why would they be there?

Picking up a sandwich and a bottle, she looked around the empty space.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, holding the bottle of water aloft in a salute.

She munched on the sandwich as she made her way through the quiet entrance hall and down the front steps. The morning air was cool and the sky overcast. Leaves of grass brushed chilly dew on her ankles.

She thought it was actually quite nice being out on the grounds alone.

But I wouldn’t want to do it every day.

In her head, she went over the experiences of the night before and practised describing it all to Isabelle in a way that didn’t sound hysterical or emotional. It wasn’t easy.

Walking past the treeline and into the shadows she shivered – it was several degrees colder out of the sun. The path was arrow-straight, shooting under pines and bypassing thorny brambles. Feathery wings of ferns delicately tickled against her calves but she barely noticed as she continued her mental vivisection of the evening before.

After about ten minutes, the path arrived at a low stone wall, which it followed for about fifty feet before reaching a gate opening into a slightly overgrown churchyard. An ancient stone chapel stood in the middle, and a small group of students clustered near the door looking bored. Allie breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that they were all dressed much like her. Seeing nobody she recognised, she kept to the fringes of the group, leaning against the elaborately gnarled trunk of a yew tree.