by Cari Thomas
‘The number of cold showers I’ve had to take thinking about him.’ Her gaze was fixed down the corridor where Attis had appeared, chatting to a group of girls. ‘I know I’ll never even get close enough to smell his aftershave but still I can dream, right?’
‘Sure.’
‘Ergh, everybody loves him. Did you hear he got into the rugby first team? Strolled right into trials and impressed them so much he got a position.’
‘I’d heard something along those lines.’
‘I’d hoped he was going to be so much more than another dim-witted rugby shirt but he doesn’t seem to amount to much in class, does he?’
Anna had English with Attis. They hadn’t spoken but sometimes he acknowledged her with a smile or a wave or, worse, a wink. He generally turned up late, leisurely and unkempt – shirt untucked, clad in a pair of grey jogging bottoms that were just about the same grey as the official school trousers – and then simply sat back and listened. He didn’t appear to take any notes or own any books. A couple of times she’d caught him sleeping.
‘Did you hear about the initiation? Apparently he drank the team under the table and he was tasked with stealing the rugby mascot from their rivals at Dallington without any clothes on.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Dallington’s mascot is a goat. A live goat! And, get this, apparently it’s disappeared. Can you imagine? I mean, I’ve imagined that boy naked but never with a goat. If he did it. Not even our team knows if he did it because Attis isn’t claiming anything. And did you hear about him and Marina? Caught in the storage cupboard …’
So much for no canoodling on school grounds. Anna had never found someone so infuriating. He barely tried and yet almost everyone seemed besotted with him. Anna could see through his so-called charm – but to what she wasn’t sure. Not that her feelings were relevant; he didn’t appear to want to get to know her and he already had plenty of women occupying him. What does he want with them anyway, when he’s got Effie?
‘I’d get in a cupboard with him any day, although, as Mum says, he’s the type to leave you thirstier than a willow tree.’
‘What?’ said Anna.
‘You know, onto the next one. Apparently, he’s out with Chelsea tonight – she’s been all over him for weeks, but I heard she’s terrified of Effie. Isn’t everyone? She “accidentally” hit Olivia in the nose yesterday with the netball. It was kind of funny, actually. I really thought Attis and her were a thing, but obviously not – she’s got plenty of her own interests anyway. I just wish she hadn’t gone out with Tom cocky Kellman. He’s claiming all sorts – ugh – that guy, obviously he wanted to be the first to mark the Effie territory. Darcey’s playing it all up, of course. Anyone would think Effie had slept with half the school from the things they’ve been calling her, not that she seems to care …’
Anna had heard as much. No one quite seemed to know what to make of Effie and the rumours swirling around her had taken the unimaginative turn into the realms of what a whore and slut much, the only category they seemed to have for a girl who scared them. Anna didn’t find it particularly fair considering Attis seemed to have hooked up with far more people and no one was calling him anything. Still, Effie didn’t seem to care; in fact, she appeared to enjoy playing up to all their insinuations.
‘You know a lot of things,’ said Anna.
Rowan had barely taken breath and her cheeks seemed to be already filling up ready to unleash another instalment. ‘I have an incredible memory for crap. Now, as I was saying—’
‘I have to go to class.’ Anna began moving away from her.
‘Don’t pretend like you don’t love it!’
‘You scare me,’ Anna had shouted back with a hint of a smile, picking up her pace. She had got on perfectly well without any friends – she didn’t need one now.
‘There has been no magic?’ said Aunt, bringing her attention back to the mirror.
Anna kept her gaze steady. ‘Of course not.’
It wasn’t entirely a lie. There had been no outright magic, but there’d been another apple. It had appeared a week after the first. A juicy, red apple with the words ‘Take a bite?’ carved into its delectable skin. Anna was sure it was them – Effie or Attis; no one else would have a way into her locker and they were the only witches in the school, at least as far as she knew. Aunt talked little of other witches or how many there truly were; there was just the general sense of division: of witches who were like them and witches who were not – those who would drag them all to their doom if left free rein. Could there be others?
Anna had held the apple at arm’s length, as if it was more likely to bite her, and had thrown it in the bin before fleeing down the corridor, unable to get the mouth-watering summer scent of it from her nose. She could almost smell it now in the cold dark of her room.
Aunt yanked her hair sharply. ‘Anna, are you even listening to me?’
‘Sorry, what?’
‘I said: There can be no magic! We can’t risk any kind of exposure at this time.’ She elucidated no further. Anna’s initial horror of the hanging news story had faded but her curiosity had not. It wasn’t front-page news any more but people were still asking questions, though there were, as yet, no answers.
‘I thought things had settled down?’
‘Settled? You think something that has been building for centuries has simply settled down?’ Aunt replied ominously. ‘The fire has only just been lit. The Hunters may yet be rising.’
Aunt made a knot in the air and Anna’s hair tied together as a shiver crept down her spine. The Ones Who Know Our Secrets, the Hunters … Aunt had spoken of them before but never so vividly, never so urgently.
‘Just stay away from Effie. I know who she is and what she’s capable of. I gave up everything to raise you – don’t make it all for nothing.’
‘I won’t,’ said Anna, feeling the lies on her tongue – they were only small, but still, the guilt of them was heavy. If we don’t have trust, we don’t have anything.
‘And what of boys? Any who have taken your interest?’
Anna wasn’t expecting that. ‘No.’ It was hardly a lie; she had no intention of involving herself with any boys.
‘You must tell me if you develop feelings for anyone. Lust is an animal response,’ said Aunt, but she wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at herself in the mirror. ‘Heart beating fast, sweaty palms, tongue tied. It’s nothing more than the desire for sexual gratification. A chemical reaction. Testosterone and oestrogen coursing through your body.’
Anna had never wanted to hear the words sexual gratification come out of Aunt’s mouth. She felt her face burning.
‘The pupils dilate when a person sees someone they are sexually attracted to. Lust lives inside the eyes, Anna, and so do lies. Don’t lie to me.’ Aunt looked back at her. ‘They called your parents’ death a crime of passion. Did you know that? Passion was their poison.’
After Aunt had gone, Anna lay in bed trying to get the scent of apples from her mind. Some time in the early hours of the morning she heard a door opening: Aunt leaving her room. Anna stilled, listening. The footsteps were moving further away. Up. To the room on the third floor. The room that Anna was not allowed inside.
Where are you off to tonight, dearest Aunt?
Over the years her desperate curiosity had drained away, but it still bothered her that she wasn’t allowed in the room, that Aunt claimed it was for nothing – a room full of Binders’ documents, and yet she only ever visited it at night. Who does admin at two in the morning? So much for lies. Anna listened harder but the sounds died away. She was met with nothing but silence. Silence and secrets.
The next morning Anna opened her locker with a surge of dread, thinking of Aunt’s threats and warnings. There was nothing out of the ordinary inside. I’m getting paranoid …
A voice she knew distracted her. She peeked past her locker door and there he was: Peter Nowell, several feet away, talking to a group of people. He looked briefly in her direction
and Anna hid back behind the door, feeling her heart rate rise, her palms turn clammy. Testosterone and oestrogen coursing through your body.
‘He’s just so dreamy.’ A lilting voice, so close it tickled her ear. Anna spun round to find Attis behind her, eyes amused. One was darker than the other, like two puddles, one caught in light and one hidden in shadow. It was the first time he’d spoken to her.
She slammed her locker door shut. ‘I was just putting my stuff away,’ she retorted.
‘Oh right. I thought you were drooling over Mr Goldilocks.’ Attis nodded unsubtly in Peter’s direction. His accent lent a music to his words that made his sarcasm sing all the more. Anna could feel herself turning red. She went to reach for her Knotted Cord but found that it was more gratifying to be angry at him. ‘Want me to set the sprinklers off above him? Get his shirt all wet? Could be sexy?’ Attis continued, producing a paperclip between his fingers. Anna noticed that the tips of his fingers and the skin around his nails were black.
She remembered Effie’s words from the dinner party with sudden dread. Attis put an iron hex on an ex of mine.
He began to shape the paperclip into some sort of symbol, eyes on the sprinkler. Anna batted it from his hand and jumped into a side corridor. ‘What are you doing? You can’t talk about magic – you certainly can’t do magic!’
‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Quickly, act natural,’ he said with sudden urgency, putting his arm on the wall behind her. Peter and his friends passed by, not noticing them. ‘Phew.’ He wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. There was the faint scent of warm smoke about him.
She pushed him away, more irate than before.
‘What? I was thinking on my feet. If they saw us together – two casters – what would they have suspected? We could be doing magic right now. Magic might be doing us. Danger is everywhere.’ He scanned the corridor with narrowed eyes.
‘My life was fine two minutes ago and now you’re in it. Please piss off.’ Anna had never told anyone to piss off. It felt good, especially directed at him. The bell rang.
‘Can I offer you an arm to assembly?’
Anna gave him a threatening look. ‘You don’t go to our assembly.’
‘A pity.’ He smirked and turned down the corridor, gaggles of girls looking at him as they passed. Anna rolled her eyes at the world.
She’d heard so many girls talk about him but he seemed to be a different version of a man to every adoring fan: from prince charming to sensitive free spirit to dangerous bad boy. It seemed to Anna that in all cases Attis was merely a mirror of their own desires and she had no doubt he had manipulated it to be so. His boyish good looks, his imposing presence, his playful smile had made him an instant favourite. It was a convincing performance but it was all distraction. His eyes gave him away. They were mirrors: grey, smiling back at the world, but ultimately empty. No one knew who he was at all. Especially not her.
She walked back to her locker, having not yet dropped off her bag. She opened it and choked back a scream.
There was a third apple inside.
She closed it shut. Attis? But it had been shut the whole time and he hadn’t gone near it. She thought of his smirk with unease. It had to be them. Effie. Attis. Attis. Effie. What the hell were they up to? A flare of anger quickly followed her fear. This is ridiculous. She wouldn’t let them intimidate her!
She yanked her locker open again, stuffed her bag inside and took out the apple. There was no message on it this time. Nothing but the apple itself, its skin freckled and gleaming red. She marched to the bin, intending to dispose of it immediately. It was warm to the touch; she could smell the juices beneath it, sweet and crisp, as if it had rolled off a tree in some dewy orchard that morning. She wondered how it might taste.
No! What am I thinking? She dropped it into the bin. Only when she looked down, she found it still in her hand. She tried again, but her hand would not let go. Just a little taste … it won’t hurt … She raised the apple to her mouth. Something inside her tried to fight it but as soon as her lips touched it, she knew it was too late. She took a deep and satisfying bite.
It was as delectable as she had imagined, toffeed by the sun, cut through with sharp shards of sunlight. She almost went to take another bite but then realized with throat-clenching horror what she’d just done.
She leant over the bin and spat the half-eaten flesh out of her mouth, dropping the apple in after it. The juice was sticky on her hands, but she had no time to wash them – assembly was starting in two minutes. She fled down the corridor, still tasting the sweetness in her mouth, and something else … Magic?
The hall was full by the time she arrived. Headmaster Connaughty was already on stage but he didn’t notice her creep onto the end of the front row. Anna glanced around, spotting Effie several rows back. Effie caught her looking and smiled. Anna turned away, disturbed by that smile.
When they’d finished singing their morning hymn, Headmaster Connaughty told them a story about a lesser-known pioneer from the civil rights movement who was arrested after refusing to leave a restaurant, somehow managing to relate the victim’s struggles to his own battles in becoming a headmaster: ‘You have to stick to your principles and even when everyone else is telling you no – say yes! When they say that you are only deputy-head material, you don’t have it in you to run a school … well, look at me now!’
Once finished, he locked his hands in front of himself and affected a solemn look, chins descending into one another. ‘And now the part of assembly that I don’t look forward to. The Detention Roll Call.’
He secretly loved his little discipline method: calling all those due a detention onto the stage so the rest of the school could be made aware of their transgression. Effie was becoming a common fixture:
For skipping class …
For attempting to bribe a teacher with chocolate pretzels …
For skipping detention …
For aggravated behaviour during the school uniform check …
He began reeling off names, girls scurrying up on stage red-faced. ‘And finally,’ he huffed, ‘Effie Fawkes, for stamping on an item of teacher’s property. Two weeks of evening detention.’
The crowd broke into murmurs. Effie walked onto the stage, but before she took the slip she turned towards the audience and shook her head penitently.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Connaughty, and I’m terribly sorry to Mr Tomlinson too for stamping on his wig.’ The crowd giggled in response. ‘As I explained, it had fallen off his head and I only stamped on it because I thought it was a rat. If he requires a new hairpiece I told him I’m happy to buy him a new, more tightly fitting variety, one matching the colour of his hair this time perhaps?’ She smiled benevolently. The laughter grew louder and Anna realized she was laughing along with everyone else.
‘That’s enough, everyone! If you don’t remove yourself off this stage right now, Miss Fawkes, it’ll be two months of detention.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Connaughty. You are welcome to come with us if you want? To the wig shop …’ Effie took a look at his thinning hair, which had been formed into an indelicate combover. Connaughty’s whole face vibrated with jelly-like rage. The laughter swelled and Anna found herself caught up in it. It was strangely freeing. She threw her head back and let it rise from within her.
‘Everyone be quiet!’ Connaughty yelled. ‘Whoever makes the next sound will be joining Miss Fawkes in detention.’
The laughter faded then, but Anna found she had so much left in her it was impossible to stop, as if she’d kicked the lid off a deep well and there was no way of putting it back on. It was erupting out of her in great waves, rolling belly laughs and gurgling giggles.
She wasn’t the only one. There was laughter coming from elsewhere … Anna looked around through watery eyes and saw that Rowan was at it as well. She was chortling away to herself, touching her head as if to mimic putting a wig on, every time releasing a loud snort.
There was a high, piercing noise too: M
iranda Richards, who was quivering with quiet intensity, doing her best to hold back the laughter, but high-pitched reverberations escaped from her like steam from a kettle. Anna couldn’t have picked out anyone less likely to be openly laughing during assembly.
Miranda was a law-abiding student, so much of a goody two shoes that she got on the nerves of most teachers. She ran several lunchtime clubs, including Craft Club, Bake-a-cake Club, Pen-a-poem Club and Bible Study. Anna couldn’t believe it – Bible Study Miranda! – but then she couldn’t really believe that she was still laughing.
Why am I still laughing?
‘GIRLS, IF YOU DO NOT STOP YOU WILL EACH BE VISITING MY OFFICE AFTER ASSEMBLY.’
But Headmaster Connaughty’s anger was hilarious. Anna tried. She tried desperately to halt the eruptions. She put her head down but her shoulders jumped up and down and it escaped through pursed lips. She couldn’t even remember what she’d originally been laughing at. It was the whole world, the whole world seemed utterly ridiculous, and the very fact that she was alive and walking amongst it was the biggest joke she’d ever known. Rowan let out a monumental snort.
‘YOU, YOU AND MIRANDA RICHARDS, ARE ALL DUE IN MY OFFICE RIGHT NOW. ASSEMBLY IS DISMISSED!’
Anna’s stomach hurt, her jaw felt as if it was going to fall off, she could barely breathe – please stop. She fought with as much strength as she had, clenching her stomach, trying to take in deep breaths and, although the giggles still bubbled, the overall feeling began to pass. It was only then that she could begin to comprehend what had just happened. Sixteen years of repression under Aunt’s rule and she’d finally flipped. That had to be it. But she hadn’t been the only one …
Effie appeared in front of her. ‘That was quite a display for someone normally so quiet. You obviously needed a release.’
‘You!’ said Anna, eyes growing wide. ‘The apple—’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. You better get going, Connaughty’s waiting for you.’ She smiled, the flash of cunning in her eyes telling Anna all she needed to know. It was her. She did this! Why is she trying to ruin my life? Anna wanted to shout and scream at her. Effie hadn’t only brought magic into the school, she’d turned it into a big, public spectacle: the kind that raised suspicions, the kind that would make the Binders threaten murder. Everything Aunt had warned her against. A sudden, hysterical laugh burst from Anna’s lips. She clamped her mouth shut, tasting apple.