Night School: Legacy

Should I tell him about Lucinda? And who I really am? Do I have a choice? Lying would get her expelled. But if she told Sylvain, she’d have to trust him with her whole life’s story. With secrets only Carter knew. And with some secrets nobody knew.

On the ground floor, she made her way along the wide hallway, threading through the busy afternoon crowd of students heading to the library and common room, their feet pounding on the polished wood. In the entry hall the wood floors gave way to stone, large tapestries covered the old stone walls and the crowds thinned.

Grabbing the iron door handle, Allie pulled the heavy front door open. Cool air flooded in, redolent of the rain that had fallen that morning. She stepped out on to the wet stone steps as the door closed behind her with a solid thud.

As she crossed the sprawling lawn, her shoes squelching in the mud, she could hear the shouts of students playing football in the distance. Two breathless boys returning from a run said hello as they passed her heading the other way – she recognised them from Night School. This was nothing like the quiet of the summer term – these days the grounds buzzed with activity until curfew. But still, even now, the world hushed when she entered the woods. Walking along the familiar footpath – mostly dry, thanks to the canopy of trees – she noticed the ferns beside the path were already dying from the autumnal cold. There was little breeze to stir the branches today, so the trees stood silent around her. It was just after three o’clock, but already the sunlight was beginning fade; Allie hastened her steps, breaking into a jog as she made her way down the path towards the chapel. She ran so much for Night School these days she rarely ran for fun any more. Even now her steps felt mechanical, unsatisfying.

When she reached the old limestone wall, she followed it to the arched gateway that opened on to a peaceful churchyard. In the watery light, the old tombstones looked disconsolate amid the thinning autumn grass. With the trees denuded of their leaves, the graveyard lost the sun-dappled charm it held in the summer months – now it just felt spooky.

Out of instinct she crossed to the gnarled yew tree where she and Carter had met often over the summer but it was empty; its bark slippery and darkened by the rain.

She headed back to the chapel, where the ancient arched door was so heavy she needed both hands to pull it open. It creaked ominously as it swung outward.

Inside it was colder – the air smelled of incense and wood polish. Stained glass windows gave the daylight a lavender hue. As always, the elaborate medieval wall paintings drew her eyes to their depictions of suffering sinners in hell being jabbed by demons with pitchforks, and dragons soaring upwards. And above the door the painted phrase Exitus acta probat, ‘The result validates the deed.’

Carter stood in front of the altar lighting the candles in an iron candelabra that stood taller than his head.

‘Hey,’ he said without turning around.

‘Hey back,’ Allie said, shivering as she closed the door behind her. With stone floors and walls, the unheated chapel felt colder than the outside. ‘I thought we weren’t allowed to play with fire any more.’

‘The lights aren’t working.’ The match burned down towards his fingertips and he cursed as he shook it out. He sucked his fingertips to cool them before lighting a fresh one. ‘And it’s going to be dark before too long so I thought I better make us some light.’

‘Cool.’ Allie sat down on the front pew.

Glancing at her over his shoulder, he gave her that sexy half-smile of his that sent tingles down her spine. ‘I’m nearly done.’

‘After that, let’s set fire to one of these pews.’ Allie rubbed her arms. ‘It’s freezing in here.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘No electricity equals no heating.’

‘Lame,’ she said.

But when the candles – at least two dozen in all – were glowing the light created a false sense of warmth. And he sat down beside her, pulling her close for a kiss. Her mouth opened to his unhesitatingly and she felt his pulse speed as his fingers tightened on her back.

We could forget everything, she thought. And just do this …

Then, with a regretful sigh, she pulled herself free.

‘We’d better stop,’ she said pointing at a tall cross. ‘Jesus is watching.’

Carter chuckled, the colour still high in cheeks, but he sobered quickly as the task before them loomed.

‘Right.’ She pulled the notebook out of her bag and opened it to the page where she’d put her prepared questions. ‘Let’s just get this over with. And then we can get back to reality.’

Scooting away from her until his back rested against the high arm of the pew, Carter raised his eyebrows expectantly.

‘Hit me,’ he said.

‘Full name,’ she said with an unhappy sigh. ‘Birth date. Parents’ names. Grandparents’ names.’

‘Carter Jonathan West,’ he said, with a casual attitude she could see right through. ‘Twenty-fourth of September …’

She gasped. ‘Wait,’ she said, staring up at him. ‘Your birthday was last month? You didn’t say anything.’