Night School

Focused on not losing her balance in Jo’s borrowed kitten heels, Allie kept her eyes on the steps ahead. When she glanced up, Sylvain was in front of her, smiling. She dropped Jo’s hand.

Sylvain admired her openly as he lifted her hand, kissed it, and placed it on his arm. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said.

She saw warmth and desire in his eyes. Her stomach fluttered.

Raising her chin she smiled up at him. ‘So do you.’ And he did. He belonged in that dark, perfectly tailored suit. Its fit emphasised his muscular shoulders and chest. He smiled his perfect smile.

She felt a sudden flash of doubt. Is this the right thing to do? Is Carter telling the truth?

As if the thought showed on her face, Sylvain brushed his fingers lightly across her brow smoothing an invisible hair. ‘I can’t wait to dance with you. Let’s go in.’ His voice was so reassuring, and his moves so sure, she squared her shoulders and walked in with him.

As they joined the stream of beautifully dressed students flowing into the great hall, staff in tuxedos stood by the doors holding trays of tall champagne flutes. They each took a glass as they walked in.

Inside Allie expected to find a disco. Instead, an elegantly anachronistic scene unfurled in front of her. A small orchestra had set up in one corner where it played a waltz. Everywhere candles sparkled on tables, in the chandeliers, in wall sconces, in the fireplace. Vases filled with white flowers topped every surface. The tables were covered in white linen, and the chairs were draped with white silk ribbons. The scent of jasmine floated on the breeze.

Isabelle appeared in a flowing white chiffon gown cinched at the waist with a gold rope belt. Allie glanced down at her own dress and thought that, compared to Isabelle, she looked like a little girl. She reached out and tugged Jo’s hand to get her attention and nodded in Isabelle’s direction.

Jo smiled knowingly. ‘What can we do? Our headmistress is hot.’

Gabe led them to a table in a corner, and they stood around it for a moment a bit awkwardly.

‘What are we waiting for?’ Allie whispered to Jo.

‘You’ll see.’

After a moment, Isabelle tapped a silver spoon against a champagne flute, and the room fell silent.

‘Welcome to the 223rd Cimmeria Summer Ball.’

Everybody clapped enthusiastically, and she waited for the applause to quieten.

‘Every year, this is a very special occasion when we gather to celebrate the school, its history, and all of you; for you are Cimmeria’s future. Many of your parents attended this ball years ago, and many of your grandparents and great-grandparents before that. You stand now where they stood then. Young and hopeful as they were. You are now part of the circle. Unbroken.’

She raised her glass. ‘To the summer ball. And Cimmeria Academy.’

‘To the summer ball,’ they chorused. ‘And Cimmeria Academy.’

‘Enjoy!’ she called out, laughing at their raucous applause.

When Sylvain pulled a seat out for her she was surprised by his formality, but then she noticed Gabe and Lucas had pulled out Jo and Lisa’s seats as well.

Tradition, I guess.

Allie, who had only ever had small sips of champagne at Christmas, thought it tasted a bit like the cider she used to drink with Mark and Harry. She stopped and stared at the glass. How long has it been since I thought about Mark and Harry?

She wondered what they were doing. If they were still getting into trouble. Whatever they were doing, she thought, looking around the room, it isn’t anything like this.

She raised her glass again. The second sip of champagne was better.

At that moment the orchestra began playing an extraordinary song. It sounded exotic, but Allie couldn’t place it. Hungarian? Turkish? As soon as it started she could feel the excitement in the air – it was electric. A few couples began dancing in a complex pattern that seemed to involve circles within circles. It was dizzying to watch and after a moment she turned away, feeling light-headed.

‘It’s a traditional Cimmeria song.’ Sylvain had been watching her. ‘It was written for the school itself a long time ago by an Egyptian composer who went to school here.’

‘I’ve never heard anything like it,’ Allie said.

She would have asked for more information, but at that moment waiters walked by with trays of hors d’oeuvres, and Gabe, Sylvain and Lucas all took several. Jo and Allie each took one, but Lisa waved the tray away. Jo frowned at her and Lisa shrugged innocently.

‘Everything is so beautiful,’ Allie said, biting a fried prawn.

‘They’ve been working on it since yesterday morning,’ Jo said. ‘I could hear them in here hammering away this morning too.’

‘It’s all perfect,’ Sylvain said, smiling at Allie. ‘I think we should definitely dance. But you must finish your champagne first.’

Obediently, Allie took another sip, wrinkling her nose at the pleasant feeling of the bubbles in her nose. ‘It really grows on you, champagne,’ she murmured half to herself. The others laughed at her.