Night School: Legacy

In the days before the ball, the mood at the school changed markedly. Most students had already turned in their final papers and essays for the term so classes, which up until then had been frenetic with last-minute work, took on a relaxed atmosphere. Even so, when the students walked into English class they were stunned to see a television in a corner.

As she followed the others into the room, Allie’s jaw dropped when she saw what they were all looking at. With technology forbidden at Cimmeria, the sight of even an old box-shaped TV filled them all with excitement and something like wonder.

Watching their reactions from across the room, Isabelle seemed positively gleeful.

‘I thought for a bit of a treat we could watch a film,’ she said, laughing as they broke into raucous applause. ‘It’s a film version of a book we read earlier this term – The Age of Innocence – so don’t get too excited. It’s not exactly MTV.’

Zoe was practically jumping out of her seat with joy, and Allie laughed at her reaction. Then, as always, her gaze floated to Carter, who sat as far away from her as possible. Talking to a friend next to him, he looked as if he were trying to summon a smile and failing.

Sliding down in her chair, she dropped her eyes to her notebook as all the excitement fizzled out. Just looking at Carter made her feel awful, every time.

When Isabelle turned down the lights and switched the television on the students fell into instant silence, gazing at the glowing screen, rapt.

‘I’ve missed this so much,’ someone whispered.

Though the film was slow and the story complicated, the technology-starved class became engrossed in the tale of a young man who marries the wrong woman. Although her own worries and fears were whirling in her mind, after a few minutes, Allie found herself lost in the story, willing Newland Archer to run off with Ellen.

When Ellen asked him, ‘How can we be happy behind the backs of people who trust us?’ Allie unconsciously covered her mouth with her fingers.

Sensing someone watching her, she glanced up. Across the darkened room, she caught Sylvain’s gaze, the flickering lights of the screen reflected in his blue eyes. For a long moment their eyes locked. The confused emotions coursing through Allie’s body were like nothing she’d ever felt before. She was drawn to him, angry at him, longing for him … all at once. She felt as if they were speaking to each other through that one long look. Communicating things they didn’t dare say aloud.

Finally, she couldn’t bear the tension and forced herself to turn back to the film. Only then did she notice her hands had been clenched so tight her nails had dug pale crescents into her palms.





TWENTY-SEVEN





The day of the ball dawned clear and cold. With snow forecast for later, nobody knew whether to be more excited about the dance with its array of international political leaders and corporate billionaires, or the mass snowball fight that would inevitably follow any snowstorm.

Students were free from classes and many of them spent the time packing, as most were leaving for Christmas break the next day. Allie had no reason to pack. She and Rachel were staying at the school until Christmas Eve, and then only spending a few days at Rachel’s house before returning to Cimmeria. Allie’s parents had agreed with Isabelle that London for Christmas wasn’t really possible this year. Not after what happened in August.

Downstairs, a giant Christmas tree had been installed in the entrance hall, while a smaller tree stood in the common room near the piano, draped in red and gold fairy lights and so weighed down with baubles it looked buried. The whole building smelled of pine and cinnamon. Students played Christmas carols on the piano in the common room. But Allie, who felt not even slightly festive, had so far ignored the impending holiday. No cut-out snowflakes or baubles hung in her room.

Her main goal right now was to meet Lucinda – to ask her all the questions she’d been longing to ask.

Her other goal was to stay alive.

She still believed Nathaniel would try something during the ball, and she wasn’t convinced they were ready for it.

But there was no way to stop the ball from happening. And when she knocked at Jo’s room that afternoon, holding her dress in her arms, Allie was determined to put on a festive face for her. If Jo knew she was worried, she’d be worried, too. And that was rarely a good thing.

In stark contrast to Allie’s room, Jo’s embraced the ethos of the holidays in a borderline fanatical fashion. An LED Christmas tree glowed on the desk, fairy lights were draped across the bookcase, and a glossy gold ribbon had been wrapped around the chair and tied into a gigantic bow. From his perch on a bed pillow, a stuffed Santa Claus surveyed the room doubtfully.

‘I think,’ Jo said, ‘we should do something special for the ball.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ Allie hung her dress from a hook on the back of Jo’s door and dropped casually on to her bed next to Santa.

Reaching into the wardrobe, Jo produced two small boxes and held them up. ‘Since neither of us has a date, which in my case is unprecedented, I think we should look particularly amazing tonight,’ Jo said. ‘Let’s show everyone what they’re missing.’