Night School

‘I hear he’s asked Clare.’ Jo set down the shoes. ‘I think up would be best.’


‘Up is fine. Who’s Clare?’

‘Small, blonde, pretty. In our biology class. Third row over. I think she’s in English with you too. He pulled her last year and then dumped her. Everyone was furious with him, because she’s so sweet. Seems like they’re getting back together.’

Allie studied herself in the mirror. Why should I care who Carter goes with?

She pulled her hair up with her hands. ‘What a complete bastard. Yes, I think you’re right. Up could work.’

Jo smiled. ‘Excellent. Once we choose a dress I’ll know what to do with it.’ She spread the three dresses out on the bed and studied them critically. ‘Right. Strip and try them on. Today we decide.’

The first dress Allie tried was black and fitted. It brushed her ankles, had a high neck in the front and was backless. It was incredibly sophisticated.

‘Lovely,’ Jo said, studying the line of the dress. ‘But it’s a bit too old for you.’

‘Totally. I look, like, thirty.’ Allie pulled it over her head, dumping it back on the bed. The next dress was white, with a long straight skirt and spaghetti straps.

‘Gorgeous!’ Jo pronounced. ‘Summery. Virginal.’

Allie wrinkled her nose, then twirled in front of Jo’s mirror. ‘It’s a bit clingy,’ she said doubtfully. The dress hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination.

‘But you pull it off,’ Jo said. ‘It looks amazing with your colouring, and I have the perfect shoes for it.’

The last dress was Allie’s favourite. Dark blue silk and knee-length, it had a full skirt with a built-in organza petticoat. Its low beaded V-neck plunged just far enough in the front, and the back was high. The sleeves were tight and ended just below her elbow. It fit like a glove.

When Allie pulled up the side zipper and turned around, Jo gasped dramatically, her hand to her heart. ‘You look amazing. That is a dress you should wear every single day of your life. Except at the summer ball.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a winter dress. Everybody else will be in light summer frocks and you’ll be sweating in heavy silk. Save it for the winter ball. It’s much more important than the summer ball anyway. Hide this dress away until then, though. This will be what you wear the night you blow everybody away.’

Jo seemed so certain Allie couldn’t see the point in arguing with her. She knew little enough about clothes, having always been a jeans-and-trainers kind of girl. On the rare occasions when she’d dressed up for weddings her mother had chosen her outfits. But she had to admit the white dress suited her.

Jo held up a pair of silver sandals with low heels. ‘What do you think? Are they perfect or are they perfect?’ she asked, beaming proudly.

Holding her hands up in surrender, Allie laughed. ‘I guess they’re perfect.’

‘Now, for your hair …’

Jo led her back to the chair and sat her down. She ran a comb through the thick waves of her hair and pulled it up into a loose ponytail. With no access to the henna she’d used at home to colour it bright shades of red, Allie’s hair was gradually fading to its natural dark brown.

Jo worked in silence for a while, but Allie could see she was thinking. After a moment she said, ‘So, why do you care who Carter takes to the ball?’

Allie squirmed uncomfortably. ‘I don’t really care … I just wondered. How do you know for certain that Sylvain’s going to ask me?’

Jo twisted a strand of her hair into a glossy loop and pinned it into place. ‘A little bird told me. A very knowledgeable bird.’

‘I wish he’d get on with it,’ Allie muttered, watching her hair take stylish shape. ‘Everybody else already has a date.’

‘There.’ Jo stepped back and smiled at her in the mirror, obviously pleased. ‘Sylvain would be lucky to have you.’

Allie’s usually unruly hair looked sleek and shiny, loosely twisted with white silk ribbon into a chignon. A few curly strands framed her oval face, drawing attention to her grey eyes.

‘That’s amazing,’ Allie breathed, looking at herself in astonishment.

‘That’s how you’ll wear your hair,’ Jo said, adding modestly, ‘if you like it.’

Allie hugged her. ‘I love it. Where did you learn to do all this stuff?’

‘Girl school,’ Jo said blithely as she gathered up shoes from the floor. ‘Which I think you’re now enrolled in, too.’

Allie was quiet for so long that Jo, who was busy putting shoes away, stopped and looked at her worriedly. ‘Are you OK? I didn’t mean anything by that.’

Allie smiled at her. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just that I had the weirdest thought.’

‘What’s that?’ Jo had returned to organising her shoes.

‘Even with everything that’s going – even with Carter being an arse, and Sylvain not asking me, and classes being super-hard – with all that, I think I’m sort of … happy.’