Fracture ns-3

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Fracture ns-3 Page 5

by C. J. Daugherty


  ‘OK.’

  ‘It won’t be easy,’ Lucinda warned her. ‘You have a great deal of atoning to do for last night’s incident. Isabelle will punish you and it won’t be pleasant – she is very angry with you. I expect you to do every piece of menial, exhausting, pointless labour she hands you without complaint. Also, there must be no more running away – I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are. In fact, there can be no more breaking of The Rules whatsoever – those Rules will keep you alive. And finally, even with all this happening, you are still in school so you must catch up on your coursework and excel in your lessons. Are we agreed?’

  Her mind reeling from this litany of demands, Allie nodded mutely before realising her grandmother couldn’t see her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘Agreed.’

  But Lucinda wasn’t finished. ‘Good. Understand this, Allie: violate any part of our agreement and our deal is off. I don’t want to but I will cut you loose if I have to. And you do not want to be out there on your own, I promise you.

  ‘But give me everything I’ve asked for and, I swear to you, I will give you your revenge.’

  By the time Allie left Isabelle’s office, the light had begun to fade from the sky.

  She felt exposed, walking through the halls in her street clothes, surrounded by the students in their matching dark blue blazers with the white Cimmeria crest over their hearts. Even with her head down, she could sense curious eyes studying her, hear quiet voices whispering, giggling. But when she glanced up no one met her gaze. She was invisible.

  Hurrying her pace, she sped up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory wing and then down the quiet narrow hall to her bedroom. Once inside she leaned back against the door – relishing the privacy. But when she turned on the lights, she stopped in her tracks.

  Her room was spotless.

  The dirty clothes had disappeared. Papers had been filed. Books were lined up on well-dusted shelves. The wooden floors had been swept and mopped; the bed covered in a crisp white duvet, a blue blanket folded neatly over the footboard.

  This was a message from Isabelle and Allie heard it, loud and clear: no more special favours.

  In the mirror by the door, she caught a glimpse of her wild hair and smeared makeup. She already knew she reeked of cider and sweat.

  She didn’t belong in this room looking like that.

  Stripping off her grubby jeans and jumper, Allie wrapped herself in a warm dressing gown, grabbed a fluffy white towel and headed for the door.

  At the last second, though, she turned back and picked the clothes up from the floor, dropping them in the laundry basket in the corner.

  A deal was a deal.

  ‘Satisfied?’ she asked the empty room.

  As she made her way down the hall she tried to clear her head of the memory of Mark’s expression as she told him she’d decided to stay at Cimmeria. Isabelle had given them a few minutes alone before he was put on a train back to London.

  ‘You must be joking.’ Disbelief had filled his eyes. ‘I’ve just been held prisoner. For hours. You’re covered in scars and your teachers are fascists, but suddenly everything’s fine?’

  Allie hadn’t known what to say. How could she explain to an outsider everything she now knew?

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s a lot you don’t know —’

  He’d cut her off with an impatient gesture. ‘Come on, Allie. I’ve seen your school – it’s like a bleedin’ castle. And I’ve heard how you talk – you were always a little posh but now you sound like the bloody Queen.’

  Stung, Allie felt the blood rush to her face. ‘That’s not fair, Mark. I’m still the same person.’

  ‘No you’re not.’ With his hands resting on his narrow hips, he studied her as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘Maybe you don’t know it but it’s obvious to me. You’re not one of us any more. You’re one of them.’

  Remembering how he’d looked at her then, Allie shivered and pulled the robe more tightly around her.

  With a sigh, she pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom. It was blessedly empty at this hour. In a pure white shower cubicle, she turned the hot water up until the temperature teetered on the brink of painful and let it flood over her, washing away the grime of the last twenty-four hours.

  She ran the soap across her skin, noticing the changes the car accident had made to her body – the scars were slick bumps beneath her fingertips.

  Each one was a reminder of what she still had to do.

  Something Dr Cartwright had said to her in one of their meetings nagged at her. ‘It is OK,’ he’d said, ‘for you to be alive even if Jo isn’t.’

  She hadn’t believed him at the time.

  But maybe he was right, she thought now. Because I have to be alive to kill Gabe.

  Back in her bedroom, she wrestled a comb through her tangled hair and dabbed on foundation. But even when she’d done it, dark shadows still underlined her grey eyes; her skin looked sallow.

  Flinging open the wardrobe, she surveyed the row of dark blue options in front of her. The choice of what to wear at Cimmeria was rarely complicated. Dark tights and a short pleated skirt went on first. Then a crisp, white, button-down blouse topped by a blue blazer. A pair of sensible, school-issued shoes and she was fully disguised as a Cimmeria student.

  She glanced at her watch – it was nearly dinner-time.

  Now, she thought with grim determination, let the atoning begin.

  As she hurried down the stairs, the low roar of conversation and laughter emanating from the crowded dining hall grew gradually louder. The happy buzz felt alien and for a long moment she stood outside, unable to make herself go in. She’d been skipping dinners for weeks.

  But in her office today Isabelle had made it clear that was no longer an option. She had to be in the dining room on time for every meal from now on, as The Rules required.

  That was just one of many things Allie had agreed to do. Because once she’d agreed to stay, Isabelle had read her the riot act.

  Allie would attend all classes and make up for all the work she’d missed so far this term. She would maintain perfect grades.

  And she’d rejoin Night School.

  The last requirement was the one that frightened her – the one that twisted her stomach into knots.

  She knew it would be irrational to refuse – she had to be in Night School to train, to learn, to find out the truth about what was happening. It was the heart of Cimmeria, and she had to be there. But the idea of doing that again – of slipping into that world – scared the hell out of her.

  But what was the point of telling Isabelle that? She knew it already. And she didn’t care.

  When she hadn’t agreed immediately, Isabelle had fixed her with a cold gaze.

  ‘Participation in Night School is a requirement for your continued attendance at Cimmeria. So you need to make up your mind now, Allie. Do you want to stay at Cimmeria Academy? Or not?’

  Defeated, Allie had nodded her acquiescence. She did want to stay. She wanted her revenge. She would do anything for it.

  And if she could rejoin Night School, then she could walk through that door now, into the dining hall. And eat supper.

  Setting her jaw, she marched resolutely through the door just as Zelazny began to shut it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shoot her a strange look but she didn’t slow down until she reached an empty seat at her old table and slid into it.

  At the table, all conversation stopped.

  Cringing at the silence, Allie forced herself to look around the table; here were all the people she’d been avoiding or ignoring for weeks – all the people she loved.

  Isabelle had raked her over the coals for how she’d treated them. Looking at them now, her words rang in Allie’s ears.

  ‘I know you’ve been through a lot over the last few months, but your reaction to Jo’s death was to strike out at the people who love you most,’ she’d said. ‘You hurt those people very bad
ly. You never seemed to realise this fact: they were grieving, too. You’ve been cold to Rachel for weeks, so she’s gone through this painful time alone. And you’ve virtually ignored Zoe. She thinks of you as a big sister. She needed you but you were too self-absorbed to be there for her.’

  Across the table from her, Carter sat next to Jules. Each time she saw them together, a tiny shard of ice seemed to lodge deeper in her chest, but Carter had always been her friend and she didn’t want to lose him.

  If that meant being nice to Jules then… fine.

  Next to them, Zoe looked very small as she scanned the faces around her with quick, puzzled eyes. Rachel kept her gaze lowered, as if she couldn’t bear to see what had become of Allie. Next to her, Lucas gripped her hand tightly.

  She got the feeling they were all waiting for something to happen. Maybe they expected her to act crazy. Run away. Shout at them.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Look, everyone. I want to say something. I know I’ve been messed up and I want to tell you all I’m sorry. I think I needed time to go… I don’t know… a little crazy for a while. And I know you all know I ran away yesterday but I want you to know that I wasn’t running away from you…’ She paused. Was that the truth? She didn’t know any more. ‘But now I’m trying to get myself together. I wasn’t really trying…’ Flitting around the table, her gaze rested for a moment on Carter’s face. His dark eyes avoided hers. ‘I know I’ve been selfish and scary and I just hope’ – she looked at Rachel helplessly – ‘that you can forgive me. And help me… get better.’

  A brief stunned pause was followed by a rush as everybody spoke at once.

  ‘Of course we can…’

  ‘Don’t even think…’

  ‘Anybody would have…’

  They were all kind but when the conversation veered away from the uncomfortable reality of Allie’s breakdown and wandered to the safer territory of her escape, she was relieved.

  ‘How did you do it?’ Lucas asked, with real interest in his eyes. ‘They say you climbed over the fence.’

  ‘No way,’ Allie scoffed. ‘That’s impossible. For me anyway. That thing is huge.’

  ‘Did someone help you?’ Jules asked, her voice cautious.

  Thinking of Mark, Allie paused. ‘Not exactly…’

  ‘What are they doing to you?’ For Allie, Carter’s voice made all other sound stop and her eyes flashed up to meet his. ‘What kind of punishment?’

  ‘Loads of homework. Garden detention for the rest of my life.’ She faked an insouciant shrug. ‘The usual.’

  The look on his face told her he knew there was more to it than that. But she couldn’t tell them everything. She couldn’t say what Lucinda had promised her. Not now anyway.

  At that moment, the kitchen doors opened and staff poured out in rows of two into the room, steam rising from the platters they carried. As Allie watched the waiters enter in their crisp black uniforms, her gaze fell upon Sylvain, watching her intently, knowingly. His eyes as bright and cold as chips of glacier ice.

  SEVEN

  The next day Allie went to all her classes for the first time in weeks.

  Her teachers must have been warned to expect her because none of them commented on her sudden reappearance, although Zelazny shot her a bilious look as she slid into her seat in ancient history.

  The students, though, were not so polite. She could handle the staring, although it made her skin crawl. But the whispered insults just loud enough for her to hear were harder to take. Most of the time she managed to ignore them. Until, in maths class, she heard someone stage-whisper, ‘Do you think she killed Jo…?’

  For a moment, Allie couldn’t breathe. Then a flash of white-hot pain made her forget all her promises.

  Holding her pen like a dagger she spun in her seat and levelled it at two girls who sat behind her. Amber and Ismay: acolytes of Katie Gilmore. The ‘twins of evil’, she’d always called them back when she had a sense of humour. She didn’t think anything was funny any more.

  ‘If I were you’ – her voice was low and surprisingly steady – ‘I’d shut up.’

  For a second they just giggled uncertainly. She could see that they weren’t sure whether to ridicule her or be afraid.

  Then Amber flipped her long blonde hair over one shoulder with practised nonchalance. ‘She’s terrifying,’ she said. ‘She has criminal eyes. I can’t believe she’s loose among us.’

  This gave Ismay, ever the follower, the courage she needed to be hateful. ‘She’s some kind of monster.’ Her lips curled up in a disdainful smile. ‘Why don’t you do us all a favour and run away again?’

  Somehow the pettiness of their words defused the situation. Allie’s anger receded, like a wave drawing back from the sand. When they weren’t talking about Jo – when they were just insulting Allie – she could take it. Still, she ached to punch them both in their pert little noses and see what they had to say then.

  But she’d promised Lucinda no trouble. No rule breaking at all. In return she’d get to hurt the right people.

  Uncurling her fist from the pen she flipped it into writing position.

  ‘Little tossers,’ she said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Then she turned her back on them and, cold with rage, tried to block out the sound of their insipid giggles.

  Once class began, though, she had no time to worry about what anyone was saying about her. She was so far behind in her studies she wasn’t certain what her teachers were talking about.

  Chemistry was the worst. She took copious notes but, as the complex formulas and diagrams spilled meaninglessly across the pages of her notebook, panic rose in her throat like bile.

  Am I too far behind to catch up?

  Two days ago she wouldn’t have cared. But she’d promised Lucinda she’d pass all her classes and with so much at stake she now cared very much.

  The biggest problem was that the teacher was Jerry Cole and, even as she struggled to understand the lesson, she was also working studiously to avoid meeting his eyes.

  He was back to his normal, good-humoured self, making bad jokes about atoms and molecular structure. He smiled easily and she could see he’d made an unsuccessful effort to tame his wiry curls. There was no sign at all of the angry man she’d faced the day before.

  When the class ended, she raced to join the queue of students streaming from the room, losing herself in the crowd. She was already congratulating herself on making it away when he called her name.

  ‘Allie – could you stay behind for a second?’

  She froze, her heart sinking.

  For a moment she considered just running out – pretending she hadn’t heard. Then, with heavy slowness, she turned to face him. His wire-framed spectacles glittered in the light, hiding his eyes as he motioned for her to sit in a desk on the front row.

  After a brief hesitation she perched stiffly, her arms crossed in front of the book bag in her lap.

  He leaned back against his desk. Allie thought he looked uncomfortable; his feet moved restlessly.

  ‘Allie, I wanted to clear the air about yesterday. It was a difficult day for both of us and I would just like to put it behind us.’ Wary, Allie watched as he took off his glasses. His eyes looked tired. ‘You know, the things that have been happening here – Jo’s death, your injuries – they haven’t only affected students. Teachers have feelings too. And we’ve all been under a lot of strain this term. But if I’m to teach you, then you need to be comfortable around me. You need to know I’m not judging you all the time. So I hope we can work together again the way we have in the past. I think you’re a good student – and a good person – and I enjoy having you in my class.’

  His words sounded genuine and she longed for things to be normal again. He was offering her something she really wanted.

  ‘I’m… sorry too,’ she said shyly. ‘For… well, all the stuff I did.’

  He visibly relaxed, as if he’d been as nervous about having this conversation as she was. It was disarmi
ng and she found herself feeling better about things.

  ‘Good. I’m glad,’ he said. ‘Well, now that we’ve settled that… I want to talk to you about something more mundane – chemistry.’ He chuckled and Allie smiled politely as he polished his glasses on a cloth he took from his pocket. ‘You’re quite far behind with your work and I know how hard it is to catch up with this class. Once you’re behind things can spiral out of control fairly quickly and before you know it’ – he held up an empty hand – ‘you’re being held back.’

  She kept her expression blank but tightened her grip on her bag.

  Is he going to hold me back? Even hearing the possibility expressed aloud was humiliating. Hot blood rose to her cheeks.

  ‘I don’t want that to happen to you,’ he continued, oblivious to her tension. ‘But I think you’ll need some extra help to get you up to speed. I’ve spoken to Rachel Patel, and she’s offered to tutor you for the rest of term. As you know, she’s one of our science stars so I think this is a great idea. Given your previous high scores, I think you can catch up with the class if you work hard – can I count on you to do that?’

  A sudden burst of hope, warm as sunlight, filled her. He still had confidence in her. He thought she could do it. And best of all, she’d be working with Rachel – maybe she could figure out a way to mend their damaged friendship at the same time.

  ‘Definitely,’ she said with heartfelt enthusiasm.

  ‘Good.’ He stood up and she knew their talk was over. But as she headed towards the door, he called after her. When she turned back he was looking at her oddly.

  ‘You’re going to be just fine, you know,’ he said.

  Taken by surprise, Allie didn’t have time to be anything but honest. ‘I hope so.’

  That conversation was the only light in an otherwise dim day, and Allie’s feet dragged as she lugged her heavy book bag up the stairs towards the girls’ dormitory wing after her last class.

  When she saw a small familiar figure ahead of her, darting through the crowds of students, she swallowed hard.

 

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