Heath came in, sleeves rolled up, thumbs tucked in his belt loops. ‘Hi, guys. Everyone sleep well?’
‘You bet!’ called a boy from Year 9. ‘Magic pills those.’
‘Please take your vitamins with your food—they can be rough on an empty stomach.’ Heath turned to select his breakfast.
Kieran slipped his in the empty banana skin. He noticed Joe actually took his.
‘Hey, Joe, I know they’re probably only vitamins, but best to be safe than sorry,’ he said softly.
Joe swallowed his gulp of water. ‘Huh, what’s that, Key?’ Joe reached out to refill his cup but his movements were clumsy.
‘Are you still tired?’ Kieran felt the tick-tick of apprehension in his stomach. Joe wasn’t acting like his normal self. Quickly checking the room, he realized that all the students in the room appeared hyper—talking and laughing too loudly, movements a little uncoordinated.
‘Never been better. Woke up so relaxed, man, you wouldn’t believe it. Isn’t this place cool? Got a great programme.’ He waved his folder, pages falling out between their chairs. ‘Oops.’ He began to laugh, looking down at his feet as if he couldn’t think what to do about the things he had dropped. ‘I get to do fitness training this morning—weights, pool, running machine. I’ll be one buff guy when I leave.’ He leant down to pick up the schedule but misjudged the distance between his fingers and the floor. ‘Would you look at that? Did you get me drunk?’
Alarmed, Kieran quickly picked up the fallen sheets. ‘You didn’t take the pills last night, did you?’
‘No—at least, I don’t think so.’ Joe frowned. ‘It’s all kinda fuzzy.’
But he’d drunk the water. The pills had been OK but Kieran remembered Joe gulping down the water they’d been given with it—a carefully measured dose, just like this morning.
‘Don’t drink that.’ He took what remained in the cup from Joe. How long would it take for the drug to work its way out of his friend’s system?
‘Anything you say, my friend.’ Joe smiled blearily at him. ‘You know, Key, I love you, man. You are my best pal.’
‘Yeah, best pals.’ Kieran did not want to hear drunken confessions.
‘Really sorry you had to split with Raven. That was rough. I feel for you, you know?’ Joe was emotionally bleeding out—eyes tearing, mouth spouting words without editing. Normally he was demonstrative but in carefully judged ways.
‘Yeah, I know, but perhaps we should not talk about that now? You need to sober up.’
‘You mean I’m drunk?’ Joe peered into his orange juice. ‘Did you spike my drink?’
‘No, I didn’t. These people have.’ Kieran looked down at his bowl. Was anything here safe to eat? The banana maybe. If he could get Joe to eat something that might mean less of the drug was metabolized. Grapefruit was out for a start, as it had the opposite effect, making chemical absorption faster. He moved it out of Joe’s reach.
‘But these are nice guys. Didn’t you think they were nice? I was just talking to Namrata and she’s OK, you know? And there’s so much to do here—it’s like one long, looong vacation.’
The signs were unmistakeable: the already talkative Joe was even more loquacious than usual; he seemed to have forgotten they weren’t here to be cooperative. Thiopental maybe? That drug was used in the cocktail for a truth serum, lowering the subject’s defences, making them pliable and open to suggestions. ‘Don’t eat or drink anything else they give you, Joe. Only eat what I give you. You’ve got something in your system already.’ Kieran was going to have to send an alert to Isaac and get Joe out of here. If he could take a sample of the water, so much the better, but maybe a blood test would provide the evidence of drugging? He should never have said there was little danger: that was his desire to stick in the school with Raven speaking, not his dispassionate assessment of the situation. If he had been thinking only about the mission he would have recommended handing this over to another team with more experience.
Joe leant forward, pupils dilated. ‘Key, my man, you need to lighten up. The food here is great.’
Kieran was tempted to slap him to shake him out of his daze but that wouldn’t help, not while the drug had a grip. ‘Listen to me carefully, Joe: you’re endangering us. You have to remember why we are here.’
Joe began to laugh. ‘Oh yeah, I remember now! We’re detectives, undercover—hey everyone, we’re here to spy on you!’ This caused a few heads to turn.
The boy from Year 9 joined in the laughter. ‘Cool.’
Kieran had to act fast. ‘We’re not playing that game, Joe, remember? That was at the murder mystery weekend last term. This is the “How to Succeed” course.’
‘Ah. I get you. Ssssh!’ Joe tapped his nose but missed so scratched his cheek instead. ‘I’ve a secret.’
Kieran brought his ear close to Joe’s lips. ‘What is it?’
‘I feel drunk.’
‘You’re drugged, not drunk. You’ve got to snap out of it, Joe.’ This conversation was going nowhere, just circling.
Joe frowned then swayed upright. ‘Listen up, everyone, Kieran thinks they’ve drugged us.’ He looked down at the empty cup. ‘And do you know something, I think maybe he’s right. He’s one clever dude.’
Now he had done it. While the other students took the shout as all part of the hilarious breakfast they were having, Heath and Namrata zeroed in on Kieran. She got out her phone and made a call as Heath crossed to take Kieran’s elbow.
‘Kieran, I’m very disappointed that you’re making trouble so early on. That’s not the spirit at all.’
Joe beamed at Heath. ‘Such a nice guy,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘Have you tried the orange? It’s freshly squeezed.’
Two large men in dark suits came in to the room and went to Namrata for orders. She pointed to Kieran.
Heath smiled tolerantly at Joe. ‘Yes, I have. Great isn’t it? But I’m afraid we’ll have to take another approach with your friend—a little adjustment to his programme.’
The suits crossed the floor to stand either side.
‘Come with us, sir,’ one said.
‘I’d prefer to stay here, thanks.’ Kieran weighed up his chances to getting out. Joe couldn’t be relied on at the moment, nor could any of the other students. Not good.
‘I wasn’t giving you a choice, sir.’ The heavy seized his wrist and pulled him up out of his chair.
Kieran lunged and broke the grip, Raven-style. He backed away. ‘I’m resigning from the course.’
‘Hey, no need for that! That’s Key—he’s a great guy,’ said Joe. He tried to get up but Heath pushed his shoulders so he collapsed back into this chair.
‘Resignation is not an option,’ said Namrata, ignoring Joe’s protests. ‘Your guardian has signed you over to our care. Take him away, please.’
The two men charged, driving Kieran against the wall. He hadn’t anticipated such a quick transition to violence. One had him in a headlock and the other cuffed his hands behind his back, before he could execute any further defensive moves.
‘Get off me! Joe!’
Joe rubbed his hands over his face in confusion. ‘What’s going on? That don’t look fair. That’s my man, Kieran.’ He got up to intervene.
‘Don’t worry, Joe, Kieran just needs to lie down for a little.’ Heath guided Joe firmly back into his seat again. ‘He’s not feeling very well either. Are you feeling woozy?’
Joe nodded. ‘Everything’s so loud. I don’t understand.’
Heath got out a syringe and put a shot directly in Joe’s arm. ‘You’ll both be fine. You just need a rest.’
‘Joe, don’t listen to him. Get out of here!’ Kieran was dragged backwards out of the room. His last glimpse of Joe was his friend slumped, head in his hands. He could only hope that Joe remembered his emergency alert when he came out of the drug-induced fog and got out of there. If not, things were looking grim for both of them.
Raven was a little unnerved when her texts to Kieran over t
he next two days received no answer. Already haunted by the scenes in her dream, she messaged Joe instead.
No worries, Raven. All peachy. Joe had texted back.
That didn’t sound like Joe. Can you ask him to contact me?
Sure. When I next see him.
I thought you were on the course together?
There was a long pause before she got a reply.
We’re on separate schedules. Heath says he’s fine but busy.
Who is Heath?
Great guy. Our tutor. He says I’ll see Key later.
Westron was really quiet over those first few days after Kieran and Joe had left, lawns empty despite the June sunshine tempting everyone outside. The GCSE and A level students were still taking exams; the younger pupils busy with course work, only the lower sixth had free time on their hands. Taking advantage of the fact, students in her year were either on courses or work experience. Raven was the odd one out again as her week in the workplace at a local dance studio had mysteriously ‘fallen through’ according to Mrs Bain. And Raven was born yesterday. Her punishment for imagined wrongs continued. At Junior High she had suffered from an unearned reputation of being the local slut, here she was regarded as the thieving bitch. She just couldn’t get the breaks, could she? Raven knew that she could do nothing about what other people thought about her, only control what she thought about herself. She deserved none of this and should ignore it as far as humanly possible. Sticking to that resolution, she spent the week keeping busy, altering a second-hand gown for prom and worrying about Kieran.
He didn’t text. Neither did Joe. If this carried on, she would go over to the manor and demand to see them.
On Friday afternoon, her granddad caught her checking out her dress in the mirror.
‘Well, well, well!’ he exclaimed. ‘Where did you get that?’
She swished the long skirt of the one shoulder, tight-fitting red taffeta dress. ‘I got it second-hand on a charity website. Do you think it works?’
‘It’s beautiful, darling.’ He hung his coat up on the peg just inside the door. ‘Did you want a contribution to the cost?’
‘It was only twenty-five pounds, thanks to a stain on the hem that I managed to cut out when I reduced the length. I had the money saved up so I’m good, thanks. Cup of tea?’ She draped the dress over the back of a chair and moved to the kettle.
‘Please. What about shoes and whatnot?’ Granddad was so sweet when he tried to talk girl-clothes.
‘I’ve got some that’ll do. It’s just a school dance.’ Though she was ridiculously excited to be going with Kieran. She had imagined sweeping in on his arm so many times, smiling serenely at her enemies. ‘So how was your day?’
He sat down with a sigh. ‘Not good to be honest with you, Raven. I had another long talk with Mrs Bain today.’
‘And?’ Her hand shook as she poured milk into two mugs.
‘She is adamant that you can’t stay here after the end of term.’
‘Oh, OK. I … OK, we’ll have to deal with that then.’ Raven leant on the counter. What could she do? Rent a room near the sixth form college? Could they afford that? She’d need a part time job.
‘So, naturally, I said that I would hand in my resignation.’
‘You said what?’ The kettle clicked off but she made no move to pour the water in the tea pot.
‘My dear, there is no need to sound so scandalized. You are my priority. Where you live is where I will live. I’m sure I can get something to tide me over until I can draw my pension. It’s only another year after all. Mrs Bain said something about seeing if she can swing early retirement for me. She’s being very helpful.’
‘Apart from the fact that she is completely unreasonable about me living here!’
‘We can’t bite the hand that feeds us, darling.’
‘You can’t, but frankly I feel like chewing it right off!’ She threw a tea bag in the pot and drowned it in the boiled water. ‘What harm do I do occupying the spare bedroom?’
‘I think she feels it is the thin end of the wedge. If she lets you stay with me here, then other members of staff would ask for the same privileges and the confidentiality of the school would be compromised. A single story leaked to the press about one of the children here and the school’s reputation would be ruined.’
Raven could hear the echo of Mrs Bain’s words in her grandfather’s explanation. ‘That is totally mental. Do you believe her?’
He grimaced. ‘To be honest, I don’t think it makes a lot of sense. She is overreacting. It wasn’t like this under the old head, Mr Grimshore, and we had some VIP children here then too. This new company who took over the school for their network have some very odd ideas. I won’t be too sad to say goodbye.’
‘But this cottage has been your home for decades.’
‘No, love: you are my home. This is just bricks and mortar.’
Raven swallowed against the lump in her throat. She poured the tea and put the cup down in front of her granddad. ‘Thanks.’
He patted her hand as it rested on his shoulder. ‘No need to thank me. You bring this old man so much happiness. I miss your mother—and your grandmother. With you here, I have both you and the memory of them to keep me company. They would have been very proud of you. Your mother was very like you, you know?’
He didn’t often talk about Raven’s mother; it was painfully sweet to hear the reminiscences. ‘What? Impossible to live with?’
He laughed. ‘No. She had very firm opinions. Your father did too. I bet the sparks flew when they butted heads.’
Yes they had, but her parents had always managed to find more they agreed on than put them at odds. Rather like her and Kieran. ‘I’ll get a job—help with the finances.’
‘Get a job if you like but only so you can save for college. You, my dear, are going places and I will be cheering you on.’
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged. ‘Thank you, Granddad.’
‘You are so very welcome, Raven.’
Kieran could not remember the last time he had slept. Each time his eyes closed, he was shaken awake or had water splashed in his face by his monitor of the moment—Namrata, Heath, or a nameless third person who was on duty at night.
‘You impress no one. You believe you’re cleverer than us but you’re wrong.’
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. The recording had been playing constantly since he was dragged out of the breakfast room he didn’t know how long ago. From the number of bathroom breaks and meals he estimated at least forty-eight hours had passed. The pretence at being civilized had continued in a fashion, in that he wasn’t in a bare cell or anything as obviously barbaric as that, but a small seminar room. He had been handcuffed, wrists behind his back, to a chair at a desk facing a screen where his personalized reform programme played on a loop. Fifteen minutes long, it was a montage of clips of students in his year pointing out his defects. He knew every beat, every frame, and was sick of looking at himself through other people’s lenses. As if he cared what others thought of him; that had never featured high on his list of important things to do. He needed no persuasion he was not likely to win any popularity contests. Tell him something he didn’t know.
‘Kieran is gorgeous to look at, until he opens his mouth,’ said Toni to the interviewer.
‘He needs to work on his social skills. He just doesn’t get it, does he?’ added Hedda. ‘No attempt to fit in.’
For the first twenty-four hours of this, Kieran had distracted himself by translating their words into every language he knew. Next he had thought of various options for encoding it. Finally, he had become too tired to think at all and just endured.
His forehead hit the desk again and the door opened. Heath stepped in and clicked off the presentation. Baring Kieran’s arm, he gave him another shot of the drug to ensure cooperation. With sickening care, he dabbed off the bead of blood and tapped cotton wool over the area. Kieran no longer resisted, as he had the bruise
s from his previous futile attempts when the two enforcers had held him down.
‘Ready to talk, Kieran?’
‘I’m ready to sleep.’ The injection made his brain woozy but he refused to buckle. I’m too bloody stubborn for that.
‘I’ll let you sleep in a while. Just let’s make some progress first.’
‘How’s Joe?’
‘Do you want to see your friend?’
Warily, Kieran nodded, his head feeling too heavy for his neck.
‘He wants to see you too. If you are good I’ll arrange it. But you need to earn it.’
Stuff that. Kieran pressed his lips together. He knew what Heath wanted. He had been asking for the same thing over and over: he wanted Kieran to confess his ‘faults’ and admit that he wanted to be like everyone else. The first step to straightening yourself out is to recognize that you have a problem and that we have the solutions.
‘I’m trying to help you, Kieran. You’ve taken a wrong turn and developed some very damaging personality traits.’
‘Damaging personality traits? Take a good look at us both. I’m not the one brainwashing teenagers.’
Heath took a seat across the table from Kieran. ‘You think this is brainwashing?’
‘You call it reprogramming, but that’s just another name for the same thing.’ Kieran realized he probably shouldn’t be so blunt but the drug had the effect of loosening his tongue, not to the extent it did on Joe, but enough so that he said more than he wanted. ‘Thiopental, isn’t it?’
Heath smiled. ‘Oh very good, Kieran. You are the first one to identify our little helper.’
‘It is illegal to administer drugs to an unwilling subject.’ He licked his lips, desperate for a drink but that too came at a price.
‘You forget, Colonel Hampton signed off on us using all reasonable and necessary means to achieve your transformation. Thiopental is very necessary.’
‘My godfather would never agree if he knew.’
‘But he did—he signed the paperwork. He thinks you need reformation—and that’s what we are doing here, though it might seem harsh to you at the moment.’
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