Night School

A short distance away and on the opposite side of the corridor, she walked through another arched doorway. This vast room had polished wooden floors, a ceiling nearly as high as the one in the entranceway, and was largely empty. Its fireplace dwarfed Isabelle, and huge metal candelabra hung from the ceiling on chains.

‘This is the great hall. We have events here, balls, gatherings, and so forth,’ Isabelle said. ‘This is the oldest part of the building. Much older than the fa?ade. Older even than it looks.’

She turned on her heel and headed back into the hallway. Allie scrambled to keep up, panting slightly from the exertion. Isabelle was surprisingly fast. Turning to the left she gestured at another door, explaining that it was the common room. Then they began climbing a wide wooden staircase with an impressive mahogany banister. Isabelle’s espadrilles made a soft shushing sound as she skipped upwards, all the while reeling off facts and figures about the building. Allie was a bit dazed by it all – the staircase was Edwardian, or had she said Victorian? The dining room was Reformation … or was it Tudor? Most classrooms were in the east wing, but what did she say was in the west?

At the top of two flights of stairs, Isabelle turned left and walked down a wide corridor, then climbed a narrower flight of stairs which led to a long, dim hallway lined with wooden doors painted white.

‘This is the girls’ dormitory. Let’s see, you’re in 329 …’ she hurried down the hall until the appropriate number appeared, and swung the door open.

The room was very dark and small with a single, bare bed, a wooden dresser and desk, and a wardrobe, all painted the same clean shade of white. Isabelle walked across the room and flipped a latch Allie couldn’t see, swinging open a wooden shutter covering a small arched window. Instantly the room glowed with golden afternoon light.

‘All it needs is a little fresh air,’ she said cheerfully as she headed for the door. ‘Your uniforms are in the wardrobe, your parents gave us your sizes but let us know if anything doesn’t fit. You should have everything you need. Shall I leave you to unpack? Dinner is at seven, you know where the dining hall is. Oh by the way …’

She turned back. ‘I noticed you’ve been having trouble in English class lately so I’ve added you to my own class. It’s a special seminar with a smaller class; I hope you’ll find it interesting.’

Overwhelmed with information Allie nodded silently; then, realising that words were needed, she said haltingly, ‘I … I’ll be fine.’

Isabelle tilted her head to one side, studying her for a second, then nodded. ‘There’s lots of information about the school and your classes in the envelope on the desk,’ she said. Allie hadn’t noticed the big envelope with her name on it at first glance, but now she wondered how she’d missed it.

‘Any questions before I go?’

Allie started to shake her head then stopped. She looked down at her feet and then up again. She tugged at the edge of her T-shirt hesitantly. ‘You’re the headmistress, right?’

Isabelle nodded, looking slightly puzzled.

‘So why are you doing all of this?’ Allie made a sweeping gesture.

‘I don’t understand,’ Isabelle said, obviously baffled. ‘Why am I doing what?’

Allie tried to explain. ‘Meeting me at the door, showing me to my room, giving me a tour …’

Isabelle hesitated, crossing her arms loosely across her chest. Her voice was gentle. ‘Allie, your parents told me a lot about you. I know what happened, and I am so very sorry about your brother. I know what it’s like to lose somebody close to you, and I’m aware how easy it is to get caught up in that … horribleness, and never get out again. But you mustn’t let what happened destroy your life. You have a lot to offer, and my job is to get you to realise that. To help you get yourself back.’

Isabelle walked to the door and rested her hand against it.

Three breaths in and two out.

‘I’ll send a prefect around to introduce herself and answer any questions you might have,’ Isabelle said. ‘She’ll come at six, which should give you time to get everything sorted before dinner. Mealtimes are strict – please be there on time.’

She whirled out at her usual speed, but the door shut lightly behind her and latched with a quiet click.

Allie exhaled.

With the room to herself Allie had time to think. Why had her parents told Isabelle about Christopher? That had always been a private family matter. And how strange was this school? Why hadn’t they passed a single student in the hallway on the way here? The place felt empty.

It was weird.