Night School

‘From now on, if anybody asks you what you saw Friday night, you tell them that Ruth killed herself, OK?’


Allie opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand and kept talking. ‘Because as far as everyone’s concerned she did, OK? She killed herself.’

Silence fell as she thought about what he was saying. ‘But I know that’s not true,’ she said.

‘Do you?’ he said. ‘How do you know? Because of your background in forensic science? It was dark, Allie. There was a lot of blood. You got freaked out. But there is no way you know whether or not Ruth killed herself. So stop playing detective.’

‘Did Isabelle send you to tell me this?’ she asked angrily.

‘Nobody sent me.’ She locked her eyes on his, looking for any sign of evasion, but he did not look away.

He reached out for her hand. ‘I’m on your side, Allie. I really am.’

‘Then I don’t get it!’ she said, yanking her hand free. ‘Why are you doing this? I saw what I saw.’

He stepped closer to her. ‘Look, Allie, word is getting around that you were with her when she died.’

‘That I … What?’ Allie stared at him.

‘And that you were the last person to see her alive and the only person to see her dead body.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t …’

He chose his next words carefully.

‘Allie, there’s a rumour going around that you had something do with Ruth’s death.’





TWENTY-ONE


The next morning, Allie walked down the stairs at six forty-three precisely. Her hair was pulled back snugly in a ponytail that bounced with every step. She looked drawn, but resolute.

When she’d left Carter the night before, she’d gone to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She’d stayed there for some time, staring at herself in the mirror, replaying their conversation in her head.

‘How can anybody think I had something to do with Ruth’s death?’ she’d asked him, aghast. ‘That’s insane. I hardly knew her. Why would I want to hurt her?’

‘It’s a set-up, Allie.’ His face had been grim. ‘They’re also saying that you got Jo drunk up on the roof, and that you’ve got … mental problems.’ She opened her mouth to protest and he held up his hand. ‘Whoever is spreading this stuff knows it’s not true. They’re messing with you.’

‘But why? Why would anybody want to do that?’

‘Some people feel threatened by you.’

‘How am I threatening?’ she asked plaintively. ‘I’m nobody,’

‘I’ve told you before, I don’t think that’s true,’ he said. ‘And neither does anybody else.’

‘I don’t get it.’ She ran her hands through her hair, pressing her fingers hard against her temples. ‘My parents are civil servants. They’re not rich. Most of the people here are millionaires’ kids. How can they be threatened by me?’

‘That’s what we have to find out,’ Carter had said.

After that she couldn’t sleep. Restless, she climbed out of bed at two o’clock and opened the window for fresh air. Then closed it an hour later because she was cold. Once she heard footsteps pass her door, then silence again.

More than once the thought passed through her mind: Could it be Rachel? I trusted her. She’s the only one who knows everything. I didn’t tell anyone else. She loves gossip. But she wouldn’t … Would she?

She thought that perhaps she’d dozed off at around four, but not for long. When the alarm went off at a quarter past six she was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

And now she had to get through breakfast.

By going down to the dining hall as early as possible on a Saturday, Allie hoped to avoid most people. She and Carter had decided she should go about her day as usual. But she didn’t really want to deal with, for example, Katie Gilmore right now.

When she walked in, nobody seemed to pay any undue attention to her and as she filled her plate with cereal and toast she allowed herself to feel relieved. Maybe this whole rumour thing isn’t going to be a big deal.

She looked around the room for her usual dining companions, but she was so early nobody was there.

‘Hey Allie. Come sit with me.’ Rachel was sitting alone at a table to her right.

For a moment, Allie hesitated, her thoughts from last night swirled queasily. But it would look weird if she didn’t sit with Rachel.

She’s the most gossip-aware person in the school. If she doesn’t mention the rumours about me, I’ll know it’s her.

She made her way over and set her food down. ‘Thought for a second I was going to have to sit by myself.’

‘I’m always here this early,’ Rachel said. ‘My dad kind of beat the whole early riser thing into me when I was little, and now I guess I’m stuck with it. Abusing children is just wrong.’

Rachel had created a toast, egg and cheese sandwich, and as she poured milk into her cereal Allie had to admire how she was systematically demolishing it. ‘Your breakfast looks better than mine,’ she observed.