‘It’s my dream cake. Chocolate with extra chocolate, sprinkled with chocolate.’ Licking icing from her fingers, Allie looked up at Sylvain in the twinkling light. ‘Amazing.’
They sat together at the foot of the dancing statue. His arm was draped lightly around her waist and she was snug in the warmth of his body.
‘I’m sorry I forgot to bring forks. We have to eat like savages.’
His curious phrasing made her giggle.
‘I’m totally cool with being a savage.’ She broke off another chunk of cake. ‘Tell me again how you got the cake on the plane?’
He bent his head to drop a light kiss on her shoulder. ‘Even though we had to leave, Lourdes was determined you should have your birthday cake. So she packed it in a box, which we hid in a suitcase. I had the guards put it in the luggage hold in a place where nothing could damage it.’
Lourdes was the Cassel family cook. The first time she’d met Allie she’d tutted: ‘Tu es trop mince.’ (You are too thin.) From then on she was always slipping Allie food – fresh baguettes spread with soft cheese; flaky croissants slathered in jam; vividly coloured macaroons and langue de chat biscuits dipped in dark chocolate, which were her favourites.
‘Oh, I miss her.’ Allie sighed, wistfully. ‘I miss France.’
Sylvain’s smile faded; his eyes grew more serious. ‘We will go back.’
‘I hope so.’
The mood had grown sombre and, noticing this, Sylvain cleared his throat and gave a mysterious smile.
‘There’s one more surprise …’
Reaching into the shadows behind the statue, he pulled out a small box tied with silver ribbon.
‘A present?’ Allie beamed at him. She wiped the sticky icing off her fingers before holding out her hands. ‘I can’t believe you got me a present.’
He seemed to find her question absurd. ‘Bien s?r. It’s your birthday.’
Allie loved it when he spoke French.
The ribbon was made of heavy silk. She pulled at the end and it unfurled, revealing a blue jewellery box.
Her heart fluttered. She was suddenly nervous. No boy had ever given her jewellery before.
The box opened with an expensive creak.
‘Oh, Sylvain …’ she breathed.
Inside, a delicate chain of white gold glittered . The chain held two pendants – one a key, ornately designed with swirls and flourishes, the other, an old-fashioned lock, each no bigger than her thumbprint.
Allie couldn’t seem to move as Sylvain lifted the necklace from the little pins that held it in place on a satin cushion.
‘I had this made for you.’ Gently, he moved her hair out of the way so he could place the necklace around her throat. The metal was cool against her skin. ‘It is how I feel about you. The secrets in your life … I want to give you a key to all of them. Unlock them for you. So you can be free.’
Leaning over, he kissed the bare nape of her neck above the collar of her blouse. She quivered at the touch.
Then she turned round until she sat on his lap, legs on either side of his waist. His hands were firm against the small of her back, holding her steady.
She reached up to cup his face in her hands. In the fairy light, his eyes sparkled like sapphires.
She felt a tear trace a soft path down her cheek. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given to me. I will love it forever. Thank you.’
‘You deserve to have all the jewellery,’ he whispered. ‘Allie, I want you to have everything.’
Then she pulled his lips down to hers.
8
Eight
Walking down to breakfast the next morning, Allie couldn’t stop smiling. The lock and key necklace nestled against the base of her throat, a constant reminder of last night. The memory of the way she’d kissed Sylvain made her cheeks burn.
In the dining hall, the new air of gloom that she’d begun to associate with Cimmeria hung over the room so tangibly she could almost see it. Allie couldn’t face another day like yesterday. Besides, her heart was buoyant. She was filled with joy. Overflowing with love for the universe. So Isabelle had never asked to see her. So she had no idea what was going on, school was depressing and the world was going to hell in a handcart.
Right now she was happy.
The smell of food made her ravenous, and she piled her plate and made a cup of milky tea before going to where Nicole and Zoe were talking quietly with Lucas and Katie.
‘I just want to eat all the food,’ she said, sitting down. ‘Don’t judge me.’
Zoe eyed her with mild interest. ‘You can eat all you want. You’re ectomorphic.’
Her fork already in the air, Allie stopped. ‘Wait, doesn’t that mean I wear my skeleton on the outside?’
Zoe rolled her eyes. ‘That’s exoskeletal. Ectomorphic means you have a metabolism that tends not to gain weight.’
‘Watch me,’ Allie said, diving into her eggs. ‘I will prove you wrong.’
Once she’d devoured her breakfast she looked around the group. ‘So what’s on the agenda today? Anything fun?’
The others exchanged blank looks.
Night School: Resistance (Night School 4)
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