Night School

Phil didn’t return to class that week, but Ruth said he was feeling better and would be back soon.

Given the fact that they were all, as Allie saw it, under house arrest, at least the weather was terrible. Throughout the week the rain was unrelenting. It was not as heavy as it had been on Sunday, but it was steady and the days were grey.

The teachers seemed to be amped up on educational adrenalin and that soon became the main topic of conversation at meals and breaks. The students discussed with increasing dismay the amount of work being assigned. Allie and Jo were in the library every evening until curfew, trying to keep up.

By the time Allie ran into Sylvain on Thursday evening as she came out of the library in search of a cup of tea, she was exhausted. He fell into step with her as she headed towards the dining room.

‘Well, well. Hello, ma belle Allie. How are you? I haven’t seen you since the weekend.’

Allie felt her heart beat faster but she tried to sound like seeing him was no big deal. She hoped he wouldn’t ask where she’d disappeared to when she ran away from him. ‘I’m good. Just trying to keep from being so buried in homework that I’m never seen again.’

He nodded. ‘I know. The teachers are suddenly very busy making work for us.’

She turned to him. ‘And what’s up with that? Are they always this evil?’

He smiled and his eyes sparkled. ‘No, this is unusual even for Cimmeria. I think it’s possible they are keeping everybody too busy to try to sneak outside.’

Allie tried to hide her surprise.

‘Because of the other night?’ she asked.

‘Perhaps.’

She looked longingly towards the front door. ‘I’d love to go outside …’

‘Are you bored, ma belle?’ Moving so quickly she didn’t have time to react he took her hand and pulled her closer to him. ‘I could read your palm. Perhaps that would amuse you. And I would see into your soul.’

‘You can read palms?’ Her voice was doubtful but she liked the feeling of her hand in his.

‘Of course,’ he smiled. ‘Can’t you? It’s easy.’

Turning her hand over, he ran his finger along the shallow lines of her hand with a touch as light as a cat’s whisker.

‘You have a very long life line,’ he murmured tracing a line from her wrist to the middle of her palm. ‘And your heart line is strong. See this line here?’ He ran his fingertips along a line that ended between her thumb and index finger. She shivered at the delicacy of his touch. ‘Do you know what that tells me?’

Mute, Allie shook her head.

‘It tells me you are in love with someone. Or maybe that you will be soon.’

Her body tingling from his touch, Allie tried to think of a witty reply but before she could speak the library door swung open.

Jo said, ‘Hey Allie, don’t forget the …’ When she saw Sylvain her voice trailed off. ‘Oops, oh dear, I think I forgot my …’

Improvising badly Jo ducked back inside. A moment later the door opened again and a group of students walked out chatting. Allie could hear Jo whispering at them ‘No, wait a second …’

Sylvain dropped Allie’s hand with a regretful smile. ‘I should like to explore that topic further with you sometime,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she said, flustered. ‘Let’s … do.’

‘Perhaps we could meet after dinner on Saturday to … talk?’ he said.

‘Sure,’ she said, trying not to sound breathless.

He smiled. ‘Good. I’ll find you in the dining hall. See you then.’

‘See you then,’ she parroted back inanely.

Throughout the week the pace of schoolwork never let up. To make things worse, on Friday all students were given research papers to complete over the weekend. When assignment slips were handed out in history class, Zelazny’s neat handwriting glared at Allie from the page:

3000 words on the socio-economic impact of the English civil war on the agrarian society of the day.

Due Monday. No exceptions. No excuses.

The library was so crowded on Friday afternoon that, once every seat was taken, students spilled out into the hallway where they sat on the floor in small clusters, their books and papers spread out around them.

‘We look like refugees,’ Jo muttered, as she and Allie carried armloads of books out to a free spot near the school’s front door.

‘It’s mad. How long can they keep this up?’ As she spoke, Allie was balancing a china cup of tea on a century-old history book and lowering herself to the floor.

‘Good question,’ Jo said, snatching the cup from its precarious perch before it could crash to the stone floor.

‘Thanks.’ Allie settled down with her back against the wall.

Jo took a sip of Allie’s tea. ‘I should have got one of those. Now I’ll just end up drinking yours.’

‘And we definitely should have got biscuits.’

‘We’re idiots.’

Allie shuffled her books, a frown of concentration creasing her forehead. ‘Where’s Gabe today? I’ve hardly seen him or Sylvain all week.’