Night School: Legacy

‘More like fairies, I think.’ Jo’s pink hair glittered in the overhead light and her black velvet minidress showed off her long, slim legs. ‘Or film stars.’


Zoe’s dark green taffeta dress had a high neckline and a circle skirt. Her heavy eye makeup gave her an oddly charming punk look. Rachel wore a matte red dress that left one arm and shoulder bare. Her thick dark hair had been pulled back from her face with a gold braided band that made her look like an exotic princess.

But they were all staring at Allie.

‘Allie, darling,’ Jo said, ‘you really do look amazing.’

‘So amazing,’ Zoe agreed.

‘Even with that hair,’ Rachel conceded.

Allie’s vintage blue silk dress clung to her waist and swung out into a full skirt ending at the knee. The sleeves hugged her arms to just below her elbows. Her henna-red hair contrasted with it perfectly, making her fair skin glow. She’d loved this dress since it first appeared in her closet during the summer term – one of Isabelle’s mysterious, well-chosen gifts.

Allie blushed. ‘Well, all I can say is: who needs boys? I just want to snog us.’

‘Not again,’ Zoe muttered, heading for the door.

‘Seriously, Allie,’ Rachel said, ‘this kissing girls thing seems to be becoming a habit.’

‘I’m convinced if I were a lesbian dating would be easier.’ Allie followed them out. ‘Boys are the problem.’

‘I don’t know,’ Jo said mildly. ‘Sometimes boys can be the answer too.’

‘I don’t know what either of you is talking about,’ Zoe said.

‘Me neither,’ said Rachel.

By the time they reached the top of the main staircase they were all laughing. Down below the wide, oak-panelled hallway had been draped in velvet ribbon and filled with bouquets of red and gold flowers. The ban on candles had clearly been lifted, because they glowed in sconces and on every table and windowsill.

Classical music filtered out of the great hall and down the corridor, accompanied by a low roar of voices. The hallway was packed with people – most of them adults; their glossy hair glittered in the light. The men were all in tuxedoes while the women wore designer dresses and clutched tiny bags.

‘I don’t remember inviting all these people,’ Jo murmured dryly as they walked down the stairs side by side.

‘Oh my God. Is that President Abingdon?’ Zoe zipped ahead of them and threaded her way through the people, soon disappearing into the crowd.

‘Our little girl,’ Jo sighed.

‘All grown up,’ Allie said. ‘Or at least her face is. Jo …’

‘I know,’ Jo laughed. ‘But she wanted it.’

Spying Lucas looking dapper in a tuxedo, Rachel slipped away. Allie watched as his face lit up when he saw her. He bent low over her hand and kissed her fingertips.

She loved how happy they were together. But seeing them like that reminded her of all she’d lost.

Inside, the great hall was even more crowded. Tables draped in red linens spiralled out around an empty dance floor. Each table was topped with a centrepiece of dark green ivy. The room was warm and smelled of candle wax, hothouse lilies and expensive perfume. In one corner an orchestra played a waltz. Throughout the ballroom, staff in white tie carried trays of champagne and mulled wine.

At the edge of the dance floor, Isabelle stood in a flowing black dress, snug at the waist and threaded through with gold. Her hair was pulled back in a loose chignon and she was laughing, surrounded by well-wishers.

Allie turned a slow circle, looking for a woman with a distinctive head of white hair.

‘Blimey,’ Jo said, standing on her toes to look for a seat. ‘Bit crowded.’

‘Much worse than the summer ball.’ Allie’s voice was distracted but Jo didn’t notice.

‘It always is. Because the board’s here and all the influential parents … I think I see a couple of seats over there.’ Jo pointed at the far corner of the room, and they began making their way over.

Lucinda Meldrum would stand out in a crowd, even one as thick as this. Allie knew if she were here she’d see her. Since she didn’t, she began to relax a little.

She must not be here yet.

But whenever she tried to imagine how she was going to get close enough to her grandmother to speak with her she couldn’t think of what she might say. ‘Hi, Grandmother, why haven’t we ever met?’ seemed a bit of a weak start.

‘Why aren’t your parents here?’ Allie raised her voice to be heard above the crowd as they seated themselves with their backs to the wall and a wide view of the room. ‘Aren’t they rich and important?’

‘Very,’ Jo said without a hint of embarrassment. ‘But they’re busy and they don’t like to come back here often. Dad always says, “Next year, darling. Next year.”’ She affected a deep dismissive tone. ‘And Mum is busy with Olivier, her toy boy du jour.’

‘Gross.’ A waiter appeared at their table, and Allie and Jo ordered Diet Coke.