Secret Lives

by Gabriella Poole

  When he was gone, Cassie winked at Richard. ‘He’s right, of course.’

  ‘Albeit an almighty pain in the arse.’

  ‘Good luck.’ She smiled as Richard turned to salute Isabella.

  Ranjit sat alone on the bench, a six-foot gap between him and a Year Ten called Hamid, who despite being one of the Few himself, eyed Ranjit with something close to nervousness. Well, Cassie wasn’t scared of him.

  Not off-piste, anyway …

  Cassie slumped down at Ranjit’s side, tossing her mask lightly up and down.

  ‘Would you mind not doing that? It’s very irritating.’

  Sighing, Cassie put her mask on her lap. Katerina was looking daggers at her from her place by the water cooler, but the fast ring of clashing blades and the constant buzzing of the monitor meant she wouldn’t hear anything Cassie said to Ranjit.

  ‘I’ll get a proper hit on you one day, mate,’ she told him cheerfully.

  ‘I dare say you will. But not because I let you.’ He gave Richard, who was backing away from Isabella’s thrust, a look of disdain.

  And he had the nerve to say she was irritating? Cassie turned angrily. ‘You don’t like me, do you?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with that.’

  ‘What’s it to do with then? Educational funding?’

  ‘That’s beneath you.’

  ‘Funny. I thought it was beneath you.’

  ‘Cassandra.’ He took a breath. ‘Stop trying to make me dislike you.’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t think I have to try, do I?’

  ‘I told you, it’s got nothing to do with disliking you.’

  ‘You haven’t told me what it is to do with, have you?’

  He tugged savagely at the Velcro fastening on his mask, so that it made a loud ripping noise. He refastened it, and did it again. Señor Alvarez, standing close by, grimaced, so Ranjit stopped playing with the Velcro and looked hard at Cassie.

  ‘I don’t like how you make me feel. OK?’

  ‘Oh.’ That took the wind out of her sails.

  ‘I can’t possibly be involved with someone like you.’

  Anger sparked again, quick and fierce. The jerk. ‘Oh, likewise.’ She stood up.

  Ranjit bit his lip. ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Yeah, I think you did.’

  Seizing her wrist, he pulled, and she sank back quickly into her place on the bench. He was incredibly strong.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.’ Letting her go, he drew a hand across his face. ‘I mean, the way you make me feel – and you do – well, I can’t accept it, Cassandra.’

  ‘Can’t accept it?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Suddenly and without warning, he stretched out and stroked her hair very gently. The featherlight sensation made her shiver.

  ‘Meaning?’ Pulling away, she folded her arms.

  ‘Meaning what I say.’ Irritation crept back into his voice. ‘I always do.’

  Cassie felt a glare: Katerina, incandescent with rage.

  ‘Looks like class is over,’ she said abruptly, standing up again. ‘And I’ll spontaneously combust if I don’t get out of somebody’s line of sight.’

  Glancing past her, Ranjit’s expression hardened as he caught sight of the glowering Swede.

  What was it with him? He grated on her nerves like fingernails down a blackboard, but she still found herself seeking out his company. She didn’t even mind a fifteen-to-one thrashing, if it was at his hands.

  Giving herself a mental slap, she went over to where Richard and Isabella were packing up their weapons and body wires. Richard was dripping with sweat.

  ‘She beat me,’ he told Cassie ruefully.

  ‘Naturally,’ smirked Isabella.

  ‘I’m never fencing you again when I’m this tired. Chuck me that towel, will you?’

  As Isabella turned to reach for it, Richard shrugged off his fencing jacket and plastron. Under it, he was wearing only a sleeveless vest that hugged his muscles tightly. Vain devil, thought Cassie, amused. He knew very well he looked darn good in defeat.

  As she wound her own body wire into a loop, her brow furrowed. There was a nasty-looking scar on Richard’s shoulder blade. When she looked closer, though, she could see the mark was a clear pattern of intertwining lines, about two inches in diameter. It was permanent, like a brand, and she’d never seen anything quite like it.

  Richard smiled at her over his shoulder, but as he caught her eye his grin died and he hurriedly snatched up a sweatshirt and pulled it on. That was no act, Cassie decided. That had been a real mistake. And the way Ranjit was glowering at Richard, he thought so too.

  ‘Hey!’ Isabella nudged her hard again and thrust a towel into her hands. ‘Can you stop ogling Richard’s sweating flanks for a second? Let’s go shower, you wicked, wicked girl. Before you see something you are not supposed to!’

  Cassie tried to catch Richard’s eye as Isabella tugged her out of the sports hall, but he had turned away.

  ‘Isabella,’ she murmured under her breath, ‘I think I already did.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Richard, darling. Thank you for bringing the candidate.’

  Katerina sat in a gilt chair, ankles elegantly crossed. She didn’t so much as glance at Cassie, but every other person in the room did. Cassie could feel the impact of their collective stare like a physical force. If it hadn’t been for Richard’s firm hand in the small of her back, she might have turned on her heel and left.

  ‘You’ll be fine, he murmured; then, out loud, ‘I think most of us know Cassie, don’t we? Except perhaps you guys.’ Richard gestured towards three tall, beautiful sixth formers, who Cassie had seen from a distance. ‘Vassily, India, Sara, this is Cassie Bell. She joined the Academy this term.’

  ‘Oh, everyone knows Cassie.’ Katerina poured herself a glass of red wine, exchanging a sly smirk with Keiko. ‘It feels as if she has always been with us.’

  ‘Come along and sit down, now, Cassie.’ Cormac Doyle gestured to a chair in the centre of their group, giving her a wink and an enchanting grin. ‘Katerina can be intimidating, but nobody else bites.’

  Richard jiggled the chair encouragingly.

  ‘Yes,’ added Ayeesha. ‘Tell us about yourself, Cassie. That’s why you’re here.’ Her smile was radiant.

  Uncertainly Cassie sat down, half-expecting a whoopee cushion. No such childish tricks, though. They sat in a semicircle around her, some lounging, some sitting elegantly upright, but everyone intent and watchful. No Ranjit, she couldn’t help noticing. Again.

  ‘Will Ranjit be joining us?’ asked Cormac, as if reading her mind.

  ‘No,’ said Katerina quickly. She sounded tense, but almost relieved. ‘Mikhail, if you feel quite up to it, perhaps we might begin.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said a hoarse voice from the edge of the semicircle. ‘Go ahead.’

  Cassie turned to look. The Year Ten boy with the shaggy blond hair had bone structure almost as beautiful as Katerina’s, but it was way too prominent. His face was gaunt and drawn, his skin pale and dry like paper. A water bottle sat on the floor beside his chair, but when he lifted it to his mouth, it was empty. Katerina gave an exasperated sigh whilst Ayeesha got up and brought him another. Gratefully he seized it and swigged thirstily.

  ‘Still got that nasty bug?’ asked Richard smoothly. ‘Bad luck, Mikhail. Now, I’ve been asked to propose Cassie. What can I say? She’s clever, she’s tough, she’s been brought up the hard way – unlike most of us – and she’s quite strikingly pretty.’

  ‘Hmph,’ muttered Keiko. Katerina only raised her fingers to her mouth, not quite hiding a superior smile.

  ‘And,’ continued Richard, unperturbed, ‘let me emphasise it again: she has caught the eye of a highly respected member of the Few. We all know how much weight this particular opinion carries, so I believe that’s all I need to say. Any questions?’

  ‘Well, Richard,’ said Mikhail after a brief silence. ‘Nobody could ever ac
cuse you of ranting on at length.’ Clearing his throat harshly, he took another long pull at his water.

  ‘Cassie.’ Ayeesha leaned forward a little, and Cassie smiled in relief. She at least was friendly. ‘What brought you to the Darke Academy?’

  She didn’t hesitate. ‘A scholarship.’

  Ayeesha nodded, but a snigger erupted from Keiko. With an effort of will Cassie managed not to rise to the bait.

  ‘Of course, we knew that,’ said Ayeesha. She seemed pleased with Cassie’s blunt response. ‘Good for you.’ She raised a warning finger at the others. ‘It does present a slight problem. A technicality, really.’

  ‘Not at all. A scholarship’, said Cormac, ‘means Sir Alric brought her here. He checks over the exam results and the interview transcripts. Well, now, could there be any higher recommendation?’ He surveyed the semicircle, smiling.

  ‘The Few have never accepted a scholarship student.’ Keiko, of course. Her arms were tightly folded, her lips pursed. ‘I’ve never heard anything like it.’

  ‘Now,’ murmured Katerina. ‘I must admit it would be quite a break with tradition. But there’s a first time for everything, Keiko.’

  Cassie clamped her lips together, more to stop herself laughing than snapping back. Katerina and Keiko were being ridiculously pompous, and some of the other Few members obviously thought so too. India mimed a yawn behind Katerina’s back. Ayeesha nudged Cormac, almost giggling. Richard, flopping on to a sofa, gave her a wink.

  Katerina ignored them. ‘Why don’t you tell us a little about your family?’

  ‘Because she doesn’t have one,’ snapped Keiko, red with humiliation.

  Cool, Cassie. Stay cool. ‘My dad’s out of the picture,’ she said crisply, ‘but like the rest of you, I had one.’

  ‘And your mother shunted you into care, presumably. Were you a little inconvenient?’

  ‘She makes a habit of it,’ growled Keiko.

  ‘Or perhaps,’ continued Katerina, ‘you just weren’t worth the effort.’

  The misery was so hot and so sudden Cassie had to draw breath. And it still hurt. Like Jilly Beaton all over again, making her believe it. Not worth the effort, slut.

  Richard was watching her steadily.

  Cassie smiled, broadly and insincerely. ‘My mother couldn’t handle me.’

  Richard gave an appreciative nod. ‘Who could?’

  ‘Quite,’ said Cassie curtly. ‘Her new guy didn’t want me around. She wanted him more than she wanted me, and anyway, they’ve got a replacement now. A boy. Frankly, I’m glad I’m out of it. I’m no more interested in them than they are in me. Next question?’

  She’d silenced them, she thought with fierce satisfaction. Just for a moment, she’d shut up the smug gits.

  In the silence, someone cleared his throat and said hoarsely, ‘Can we consider the school’s rationale?’

  Mikhail again. His attention was riveted on Cassie as he fumbled for his water bottle once more. Some of the liquid trickled from the side of his mouth, and he had to wipe his chin with the back of one shaking hand. If anything he looked worse than before, but no one seemed very concerned. Cassie frowned.

  ‘There was a time,’ he went on, his voice almost reduced to a whisper, ‘when scholarship students had a more useful function than … public relations.’

  Cassie’s sympathy melted, replaced by unease. Function? Keiko’s words in the hall came back to her: You’re here for our benefit, not the other way round.

  ‘Mikhail.’ That was a sixth-form chess prodigy called Yusuf. He stood in shadow, and Cassie hadn’t noticed him till he spoke. ‘You have not been one of us for very long. You’re new and inexperienced. Don’t pretend to know as much as we do.’

  ‘It’s part of the Few history. I’ve been reading up on it.’ Mikhail had linked his fingers together, so tightly his knuckles were bone-white. His body was hunched, coiled like a spring, but he seemed unable to stop looking at Cassie.

  OK. What she ought to do was get up and walk out. It would be a retreat she’d never live down, but what the heck. She didn’t even like the common room, now she was in it. The furnishings were all so dark. Chairs, curtains, wallpaper, silk lampshades: all the fabrics were ruby and purple and deep-water-green. The room was warm with colour, but somehow menacing too. It was beautiful – everywhere in this place was beautiful – but the air was oppressive. She didn’t want to be in here. Not now, not ever.

  No. She wasn’t going to walk out. This was her chance to find out the secrets of the Few, but that wasn’t all. She was as good as this lot. Better. She wasn’t going to tug her forelock and scurry away like a scared mouse. Tightening her jaw, she looked across at Keiko, studying the girl as minutely and disdainfully as Keiko was inspecting her.

  That crisp white shirt she was wearing, a stunning contrast to her blue-black hair: it was Chanel wasn’t it? Of course, for all Cassie knew it could be George At Asda – except that she recognised it as one Isabella had rejected only last week. Better not mention that to Keiko, then. Cassie’s rigid smile relaxed into a genuine, broad grin. She felt a lot better already.

  ‘Traditions change.’ Richard was beaming at her. He looked pleased and proud. ‘They evolve. Everything evolves. Even us.’ He gave a gurgling laugh.

  ‘I’m so thirsty,’ moaned Mikhail softly.

  ‘Look,’ said Cassie, glancing anxiously around the remaining Few and then back at Mikhail, ‘I know it’s none of my business, but are you all right?’

  ‘Fine,’ snapped Mikhail, febrile eyes burning.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Katerina snapped her fingers. At the back of the room, Hamid rose with a weary sigh and replaced the empty water bottle with a full one once more.

  Cassie stared. ‘Look. He isn’t well.’

  ‘Now, that really is none of your business.’ Katerina gave her a tight formal smile. ‘Not until you are one of us.’

  The sixth former Sara leaned forward, smiling intently. ‘And I think you have a really good chance of that, Cassie. I’m sure we can overcome … objections. She is very pretty, I think.’ She addressed that remark to the room in general, obviously not expecting an answer. ‘The Elders like that in a candidate.’

  What has that got to do with anything, you crowd of shallow freaks? Cassie managed to bite back the question as Richard’s hand touched her shoulder lightly.

  ‘Pretty?’ mused Katerina. ‘I suppose so. She has unusual looks. True beauty, I think, requires a touch of cruelty. That seems to be missing.’

  ‘Good,’ muttered Cassie under her breath.

  Richard shot her a warning look.

  ‘With the right … guidance, I think she could be lovely.’ Sara smiled again. Cassie was beginning to dislike those smiles. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  Get me out of here! These Few weren’t just shallow, they were sinister. Maybe it was time to leave after all.

  Richard clapped his hands together. ‘Anybody have any more questions?’

  ‘The most important one.’ Mikhail’s voice was faint. ‘The one we agreed was necessary.’

  ‘Of course.’ Katerina turned her glass in her fingers, watching the red wine swirl. ‘There is only one vacancy, and it is hotly desired by several students.’

  ‘Perry Hutton, for one,’ snapped Keiko. It was obvious who she wanted.

  ‘And Isabella Caruso,’ lilted Katerina. ‘Bella, bella Isabella.’

  Yusuf’s voice was a hypnotic murmur. ‘So our question is …’

  ‘How would you feel …’ said Vassily.

  ‘About denying your dearest friend …’ said Sara.

  Katerina’s lips curved in a gleaming smile: ‘… her heart’s desire.’

  Silence fell as they watched her.

  Cassie swallowed. Impeccable Katerina Svensson, she noticed with amusement, had tiny red wine stains in the creases of her lips. She wasn’t afraid of them, but they were right. What she was afraid of was hurting Isabella. What a clever question, and on it might hinge her f
uture with the Few.

  Did she want it that much? Even to discover the dark heart of the Academy? Did she want it enough to sacrifice Isabella’s friendship?

  ‘Thirsty,’ rasped Mikhail.

  His throat jerked as he gulped down water. The others were treating him with mild pity, but little concern. What was their problem? Wasn’t he pretty enough when he was sick? Isabella was more beautiful than any of them, and cruelty didn’t come into it. Her beauty wasn’t all in her epidermis.

  ‘Well?’ snapped Katerina. ‘We’re waiting. Do you care about hurting your best friend? To the bone?’

  The answer came to her suddenly, and it seemed blindingly obvious.

  ‘No.’ Cassie met each hard stare in turn. ‘No. Why would I?’

  Vassily persisted. ‘Because she is your best friend, and you’re famously close? Just a notion we thought you might want to consider,’ he added sarcastically.

  ‘You’re a spoilt bunch of brats.’

  ‘Hey,’ interrupted Cormac, ‘who are you calling spoilt?’

  Cassie ignored him. ‘You don’t know what it means to be at this school. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’ve never known anything but privilege, have you? You’ve never been miserable or helpless.’

  They had all stiffened. Even Ayeesha’s welcoming smile had faded. Mikhail looked as if he was about to get to his feet and come towards her, but Katerina had lifted a warning hand, and for now he was gripping the arms of his chair and staying where he was. The older ones – Sara, Vassily, Yusuf – had a strange look. Amusement? Curiosity?

  Now, thought Cassie. Now was her chance to tell this lot what she thought of them and get out of here. What was she doing with these people? You so do not want to be here, Cassie …

  No. Inwardly she gave herself a kick. She knew very well what she was doing here, after all. The more she saw of this gang, the more she wanted to know. Knowledge is power, Cassie. And a little power might be something she was going to need around here, if she wasn’t going to go under.

  She took a shaking breath. ‘The Darke Academy is my chance to make something of myself. If I was a member of the Few as well? I’d never be miserable or powerless or poor again, would I? I’m sick of all that. Sick of it.’