Night School

‘I know! I know you did.’ She was angry too, but her anger was directed at herself. ‘It’s all my fault. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I was stupid. I’m a dumbass, OK? Will you forgive me now?’


His expression softened. ‘Look, Allie, it’s just … I’ve told you before. You haven’t been here long enough to understand how things are here. Just be careful, OK? Things are not what they seem. People aren’t always who they seem to be.’

Even though his tone was kinder, his warning chilled her.

What kind of school is this, anyway? Who are these people? Worry burned her stomach. Can I trust anybody? Even Carter? He’s always been such a pain in the arse, but has he ever lied to me?

She studied his serious face, then reached out and put her hand on his arm. ‘Thanks, Carter.’

Surprised, he raised one eyebrow. ‘For what?’

‘You kind of rescued me from my own stupidity last night. That’s twice in twenty-four hours you’ve saved me. In some countries, I’d owe you my life, or my first-born child or something.’

He half-smiled, but she thought his eyes still looked guarded. ‘Just … believe me next time, OK?’

She nodded fervently, but all she said was, ‘OK.’

As he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his cooling coffee his eyes narrowed and he stared hard at something behind her. Allie turned. Across the dining room Sylvain sat alone, his eyes boring into them. She could feel anger radiating off him like heat.

Carter returned his glare, unflinching.

‘Oh bollocks,’ Allie muttered.

‘You’re going to have trouble with him,’ Carter told her, turning to face her. ‘He is powerful around here, and he’s not going to be happy if he doesn’t get what he wants. And what he wants is you.’

Staring fearlessly back at Sylvain, Allie said, ‘Well that’s too bad. Because he can’t have me.’

Pushing back her chair she stood and stalked over to where Sylvain sat at the front of the room. His expression was intimidating but she was sober now. She leaned over until her hands rested on the arms of his chair and her face was just inches from his.

When she spoke her voice was a threatening whisper.

‘That was the worst date I ever had. And we. Are so. Over.’ She waited just long enough to clock the surprised look on his face, then she walked to the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carter smile.

As she climbed the stairs to the girls’ dormitory she counted every single step. When she reached her own room sixty-one steps later she opened the door.

All was as she’d left it hours ago – dresser drawers were still open and clothes strewn on the floor from her hurried late-night search for something to wear.

Taking a deep breath, she took the sixty-second step into the room and began the process of making it feel safe again. First she picked up the clothes and put them away, then she straightened the already straight desktop and closed the wardrobe door. Finally, when everything was perfect, she closed the shutter over the window to block the daylight, kicked off her shoes and lay down on top of the duvet. She was completely exhausted. But she was also far too wired to sleep.

For half an hour she tossed and turned as last night’s events swirled through her head like the dancers at the ball. Who killed Ruth? … Carter must think I’m a complete slapper … Was I drunk? Jo said the champagne was strong … But Ruth was … She was …

Dark and cloudy images of Ruth’s bloodied body made her retch and she sat bolt upright. Her heart was pounding and her hands dripped with sweat.

She couldn’t breathe.

Air. I need air.

Springing from her bed she scrambled up onto her desk and flung the window open. Daylight poured in and she took a strangled breath of warm, fresh air …

‘Ouch!’

The voice outside her window startled her so much she nearly fell off the desk as she scrambled backwards. Clutching the chair as if it would protect her, she wheezed breathlessly.

‘Who …?’

‘Allie? What’s the matter?’

‘Carter?’ she wheezed. ‘What the … hell are … you …?’

Ignoring her question he reached through the window and pulled her closer – her body slid easily along the polished wood of her desktop; she didn’t have the strength to resist.

His dark eyes were serious as he watched her struggle to breathe. ‘Remember what you did the other night? You need to do it again. Breathe in through your nose. Slowly. And out through your mouth.’

She tried to process what was happening. ‘Were you … spying …?’

He glared at her. ‘Bloody hell, Allie. Will you just shut up and breathe?’

With her eyes on his, and his hands gripping hers, she breathed in sync with him, raggedly at first, but gradually more easily. When she seemed to be breathing normally, he let go and the questions burst out of her.