Night School: Resistance (Night School 4)

But Allie had never seen her look so sad.

‘We would rather you stayed here,’ Mr Cassel said finally. ‘Where we can protect you.’

Sylvain replied to his father in rapid, low French. Allie had been practising but she still only caught only a couple of words. Jamais – never. And comprend – understand.

His father stood with such abruptness it made her jump. He said something to Sylvain that she didn’t catch and strode out of the room.

‘What did he say?’ she asked, looking at Sylvain.

It was Mrs Cassel who responded, her eyes on her son. ‘He said, “Do as you please.”’

‘Maman …’ Sylvain began, but his mother held up her hand, her white sleeve falling back to reveal a slim wrist the same tawny colour as his own skin.

‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said quietly. ‘I understand. But we love you. And we are afraid for you.’ Her gaze moved to encompass Allie and Rachel. ‘For all of you.’

An uncomfortable silence fell.

‘Well.’ Rachel cleared her throat. ‘I guess we should pack. And leave you two to talk.’ Standing, she gestured at Allie. ‘Come on. Those T-shirts won’t pack themselves.’

‘No, they won’t,’ Allie agreed, scrambling to follow. ‘And the trousers. Someone has to pack those, too.’

Sylvain didn’t even glance at them as they hurried up the stairs, leaving a heavy stillness behind.



Allie had already thrown all her things into bags before a guard informed her they wouldn’t leave until nightfall. Once they left the safety of the Cassel compound they needed to move fast, the guard explained, and for that the roads had to be clear of traffic.

In the end, it was after ten before they were finally called to the front door where a convoy of black SUVs waited, headlights glowing, engines purring, Without a word, Sylvain’s father kissed Allie and Rachel on both cheeks. He said something quietly to Sylvain in French. Allie saw Sylvain’s jaw tighten as he listened. Then he disappeared back into the villa.

Mrs Cassel hugged Rachel.

‘Good luck with your studies, Rachel,’ she said, in her beautifully accented voice. ‘I should like you to be my doctor some day.’

‘Thanks for everything,’ Rachel said. The woman gave her an affectionate smile.

As Rachel headed out to the car, Mrs Cassel turned to Allie.

‘Goodbye, my dear.’ She pulled her close. Allie breathed in her perfume, a heady mix of exotic flowers and spice.

When she stepped back, Mrs Cassel held her by the shoulders, studying her face as if she wanted to say more. There was something in her warm, hazel eyes Allie couldn’t read. Caution, perhaps. Or doubt.

But all she said as she dropped her hands was: ‘Be careful, chère Allie.’

‘I will,’ Allie promised. Then something occurred to her. ‘What about you, though? Nathaniel knows where you are. He knows you helped me.’

Mrs Cassel seemed touched by her concern. ‘We are well protected,’ she said gently. ‘Besides, it’s not us he wants, my dear.’

Her honesty was chilling but Allie was grateful for it nonetheless as she hurried after Rachel to the line of cars.

Sylvain lingered on the front steps. Through the open car door, Allie watched as he talked quietly to his mother. As always, it hurt a little to see anyone so close to their parents. She hadn’t spoken to her own parents in months. Phone calls were impossible while she was on the run. She knew Isabelle kept them informed about her. But it wasn’t easy to accept that they didn’t care enough to insist on speaking to her.

I wonder what it’s like to be liked by your own parents, Allie thought. And then she pushed the thought away. It was easier not to think about them.

Mrs Cassel pulled Sylvain into a tight hug before finally letting him go. As he ran down the steps to the car, Allie saw her wipe a tear from her cheek with a quick brush of her fingers.

By the time Sylvain was seated and looking back at her, she’d composed her face. She waved at them with serenely. As if they were just normal kids, heading off to a normal school.

A guard closed the door of the SUV and Allie heard the thunk as all the doors locked automatically through the central system.

A thrill of excitement ran through her like electricity. Even if they’d changed their minds now it was too late.

They were going home.





4





Four





‘You have to make your mind up, Allie.’ Jo sounded exasperated.

Allie turned to look at her in surprise. They sat beneath the spreading branches of the ancient yew tree in the church yard at Cimmeria. The setting sun had turned the sky a fiery red. It caught Jo’s short, blonde hair and tinged it pink.

The colours reminded Allie of something but she couldn’t place it.

‘About what?’ Allie asked.

‘Sylvain,’ Jo said. She leaned back against the tree trunk with a sigh. ‘I feel so guilty. Like it was my fault you got into this.’