by Julia Nobel
Emmy glanced behind her. Brynn was there, sitting a few rows back, going over something with Master Barlowe. “Yeah, I was in the church when…when I lost it.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Jonas said. “These things always turn up eventually.” He gazed at Emmy, like he was trying to puzzle something out. “This letter…it must have been an important one?”
Emmy nodded, and Jonas scratched his chin. “I’ve learned a few things about finding missing items in eighteen years working at Wellsworth. Maybe I could help. I assume this letter was addressed to you?”
“Not exactly. It…” She broke off. Eighteen years. “Wait, you were a student before you started working here, right?”
“Sure,” he said.
Emmy thought back to the first day they met, the day he told her she’d get over that overwhelming feeling. The feeling he still remembered even though he’d graduated almost twenty years ago. “You graduated eighteen years ago?”
“That’s right.”
Emmy’s heart started pounding. “Then you must have known my dad!”
Jonas wrinkled his forehead. “Your father was at Wellsworth?”
“Yeah!” Jack had warned her not to say anything about her dad being part of the Order, but there was no harm in saying he went to Wellsworth. “He graduated eighteen years ago, too!”
“Excuse me, Emmy.” Barlowe had appeared beside her. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to go over something in the textbook with you.”
“Sure, just a moment.” She turned back to Jonas. “You must have known Thomas Allyn, right?”
The book slipped from Barlowe’s hands and tumbled down a few steps. Jonas picked it up and handed it back to Barlowe, who looked strangely pale.
“You all right, mate?” Jonas asked.
Barlowe nodded. “Just clumsy.”
Jonas put a hand on Barlowe’s shoulder and turned back to Emmy. “So, Tom Allyn is your father, is he?”
“Yes! So, you knew him?” Emmy was shaking. How could she have forgotten that Jonas went to Wellsworth? She should have asked him weeks ago.
“A bit, yes,” Jonas said. “I can’t say we ever moved in the same circles, but I knew who he was. Bit of a troublemaker, I think. Good rugby player, though. That must be where you get your football feet.”
A warm rush flooded Emmy’s chest. A rugby player. “What else?”
Jonas shook his head. “Not much, I’m afraid. Like I said, I didn’t really know him that well. So, what’s he up to these days?”
Just like that, the warmth was gone. Emmy tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her shoes. “Oh, he’s…he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jonas said gently.
“Yeah, well…” She scratched the back of her head. This was why she didn’t tell people about her dad. Because every time she did, the conversation just seemed to fall off the edge of a cliff.
“Your last name isn’t Allyn, though, is it?” Jonas asked.
Emmy shook her head. “I have my mom’s last name.” She looked down at her feet. She didn’t really feel like explaining more.
“Well, thanks for bringing me my gloves, Jonas.”
“No trouble.” Jonas had a strange expression. Then he blinked and shook his head. “I’m sorry, young miss. I just… You just look a bit like him.”
The warm tingle crept back into her chest. “Really?”
Jonas smiled, but he looked more sad than happy. “From what I can remember, which isn’t much, I’m afraid. Anyway, I’d better get going.”
He left, and Emmy looked at Barlowe, who still wasn’t looking very well. “Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?”
“Oh, yes.” Barlowe cleared his throat. “Actually, I think it can wait. You’d better get to football practice, or your coach will have my head for making you late.”
Emmy didn’t need to be told twice. Brynn glared at her as she ran past, but she didn’t have time to worry about him now. She couldn’t afford to be late; their coach was on the warpath these days. By the time practice ended, Emmy felt like she had run a marathon.
“If we keep this up we’ll be too exhausted to get out of the first round,” Lola said as they walked back to Audrey House after practice.
“I thought it was a great practice!” Emmy said, her feet bouncing along the path.
Lola snorted. “Who put the happy pills in your teacup?”
“Oh, no one,” Emmy said, “I just found out that Jonas knew my dad, that’s all.”
Lola stopped walking and whipped Emmy around to look at her. “Huh?”
Emmy told Lola what happened. “He didn’t remember much, but at least it was something. I can’t believe I didn’t think of asking him before.”
Suddenly Lola slapped her forehead. “My mum!”
“What about her?”
“My mum was here right around then! Why didn’t I think of asking her?”
“Wait, your mom was a student here?”
“Sure,” Lola said, “loads of teachers were. They like hiring old students—keep it in the family and all that.”
“Maybe there are more teachers who knew him!”
“Maybe,” Lola said. “I’ll ask my mum tonight.”
• • •
Emmy looked at her watch and chewed on her thumbnail. Lola was having supper with her mom, and they should be back any minute. The common room door opened. Emmy jumped up, but she sat back down right away. It was just a couple of sixth-year girls.
Emmy sighed. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. Lola’s mom might not have even been at Wellsworth when her dad was here. Even if she had been, it was a big school, and their paths might never have crossed.
She looked at her watch again. She may as well get a start on her homework while she waited. She started rummaging in her bag when the door opened again. This time it was Madam Boyd. And she was walking straight toward Emmy.
“Miss Willick, I need to see you in my office immediately.”
Emmy fumbled with the zipper of her bag and flung it over her shoulder. Madam Boyd was already walking through the door with Lola trailing behind. Emmy flashed Lola a grin, but Lola didn’t smile back. In fact, she looked downright worried.
Butterflies started swirling in Emmy’s stomach. What was going on? She hurried into the office and Lola closed the door behind them.
Madam Boyd leaned her cane against her desk and looked straight into Emmy’s eyes. “Is Thomas Allyn your father?”
Emmy nodded.
Madam Boyd stared at her for a few seconds, then turned away and pressed a finger to her lips. “How is that possible?”
Emmy swallowed hard. “How is what possible?”
Madam Boyd looked back at Emmy. “The Thomas Allyn I knew died fifteen years ago. So how can he have a twelve-year-old daughter?”
“It was ten years ago. But I think there was a mistake with the records, because the computer—” Lola cleared her throat, and Emmy stopped talking. Mentioning that they had seen confidential school records was not a good idea. “—uh, I mean, there are other records that say he died fifteen years ago, but it was only ten.”
Madam Boyd gave her a wry smile. “Then how could I have attended his funeral?”
Emmy shook her head. There couldn’t have been a funeral for her dad fifteen years ago.
“It must be a different Thomas Allyn,” Lola said. “It must not be the same person.”
Emmy’s heart deflated. Lola was right. It was the only explanation that made sense. But Madam Boyd was shaking her head. “Hazel eyes, freckles on the nose, bright-red hair… You look just like him.”
Emmy sank into a nearby chair. “My dad had red hair?”
Madam Boyd limped a few steps and sat in the chair across from Emmy. “What do you know about your father?”<
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“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Madam Boyd repeated.
“Really, I don’t know anything about him. He disappeared when I was three, and my mother won’t talk about him. All I know for sure is his name.”
Most people looked sad when Emmy said things like that. Most people looked sorry for her. But Madam Boyd didn’t look sorry. She looked relieved. “Emmy, I need you to listen very carefully.” She put her hand on the arm of Emmy’s chair. “You cannot tell anyone who your father is.”
Emmy twisted the bottom of her sweater. “Why not?”
“I know this is difficult for you, but I need you to promise.”
“But—”
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
“Can’t you at least say why?” Lola asked, but Madam Boyd was already shaking her head.
“No, I can’t. I can only imagine how frustrating this is. But I need you to trust me. No one can know that you are in any way connected to Thomas Allyn.”
Emmy bit her lip. There hadn’t been a lot of people in humanities class when she had asked Jonas about her dad. But Barlowe had been there, and Brynn had been only a few desks behind her. Maybe she should tell Madam Boyd. But if the thought of Emmy’s dad made Madam Boyd this nervous, what would she do if she found out that people might already know?
“I need your word, Emmy,” Madam Boyd said.
If Brynn had overheard her talking to Jonas, there was nothing she could do about it now. She slumped down in her chair and nodded. “Can’t you tell me something about him? Anything?”
Madam Boyd pursed her lips, then silently shook her head.
Emmy got up and walked out the door. So much for getting answers.
Lola followed her up the stairs. “What was that all about?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. What did she say when you asked her about my dad?”
“The moment I said his name she spilled her coffee all over the table. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so freaked out.”
They got to the third-floor landing, and Emmy leaned on one of the thick wooden windowsills. “Jonas said something about my dad causing trouble. I thought it must just be pranks or something like that, but maybe it was something else. Something more serious.” A knot clenched in her stomach. She didn’t really have any memories of her dad. Just a few vague images of someone who loved her. She’d always assumed he was a good person, but how could she really be sure?
CHAPTER 16
Confrontation
It was the morning of the East Anglian Football Championship, and Emmy’s breakfast looked about as appetizing as canned cat food on toast.
“You’ve got to eat a proper meal,” Lola said as she dumped more sausage on Emmy’s plate.
Some kind of yellowish goo oozed out of one of the sausages. “How is this a proper breakfast?”
“Protein.”
Emmy wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll stick with the eggs.”
“And don’t forget your carbs.” Lola stuffed a bagel into Emmy’s mouth. “Good for energy! You’re going to need it if you’re going to make it through all six matches today.”
Emmy pulled the bagel out of her mouth as Natalie and Jaya joined them in the food line. Natalie was already wearing her soccer uniform.
“You nervous?” Jaya asked.
“Just a little,” Emmy said. She’d never played six matches in one day. This was definitely the biggest tournament she’d ever been in.
“I would be, too,” Jaya said. “That’s why I never tried football.”
Natalie snorted. “That and you wouldn’t be caught dead in a smelly uniform.”
Jaya made a face. “That, too.”
“My tray’s getting heavy, let’s go sit down,” Lola said to Emmy. “See you on the pitch, Nat.”
Natalie and Jaya both smiled and kept piling food onto their plates.
“Hey, look who it is.” Lola nodded her head toward a table. Jack’s brother Vincent was sitting there, talking with some boys from Latin Society.
“What’s he doing here again?”
Lola shrugged. “Maybe he really misses school.”
“Enough to come up here on weekends? And I bet he had to miss work when I saw him at Latin Society. Nobody likes their old school that much.”
They sat down at a table and Emmy ripped off a chunk of her bagel. There had to be some reason Vincent kept hanging around the school. But what?
Jack slid into a seat next to them. “Morning,” he said glumly.
Emmy winced. Thanks to them breaking into the school office, Jack was being sent home for the weekend for extra study time.
“Did you see your brother’s here?” Lola asked.
Jack nodded. “Yeah, I saw him talking to Malcolm yesterday. Hasn’t bothered to say hi to me, though.”
“Sorry,” Emmy said.
Jack took a gulp of juice and rolled his eyes. “I’m used to it. Anyway, I was wondering,” he leaned closer to Emmy, “that box of yours—could I get a closer look at it?”
“Sure. Victoria has some kind of club on Monday afternoons. You could come up to my room and—”
“Actually,” he said sheepishly, “I was kind of hoping I might be able to take it home with me this weekend.”
Emmy twisted her fingers together. Letting him look at it was one thing, but giving it to him to take home? She wasn’t sure about that. “Um, what for?”
“My dad has loads of books about analyzing art and antiques,” Jack said. “They talk about how to figure out what period an object is from, what its purpose was, and all that kind of stuff. I thought maybe if I took the box with me, I could find out more about it.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Emmy said. “Your dad belongs to the Order.”
“He’s away on business right now,” Jack said. “It’s just my mom at home, and Malcolm’s not coming along. Don’t worry, it’s totally safe.”
“Well…” That did sound like a good idea. Emmy was definitely tempted. She hadn’t found out anything new about her dad or the Order in weeks. But handing the box over to someone else wasn’t something she was excited about, even if it was Jack.
“I understand if you don’t want to,” Jack said, but he did look a bit hurt.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Emmy said. She couldn’t stand the idea of making his weekend even worse. At least this way he’d have something to do other than homework, and who knew? He might stumble across some useful information.
Jack grinned. “Great!”
Half an hour later, Emmy was in the common room, giving Jack a plain brown bag with the box inside. It felt like saying goodbye to a friend.
“I’ll treat it like gold,” Jack promised.
Something twanged in Emmy’s chest, but she ignored it. It wasn’t like she was handing over her firstborn child. It was just a box.
As Jack went out the door to meet his dad’s car, Victoria came flying down the stairs and made a beeline for Emmy. “Okay, where is it?”
Emmy groaned and flung her gym bag over her shoulder. The bus was about to leave for the football tournament. She didn’t have any time for drama. “Where is what?”
“Where is the locket my mum sent me from Paris? I know you’ve taken it, now hand it over!”
“I’ve never even seen it,” Emmy said.
“You nasty little liar. You tell me where it is!”
“Oh, come on, not today.” Lola stormed down the staircase. “Just ignore her, Emmy. We’ve got to get going.”
Victoria threw her body in front of the door. “You’re not going anywhere until you give me my locket!”
“She already told you, she didn’t take it, so shove off!”
The door to Madam Boyd’s study flew open.
“Oh, great, now you’ve done i
t,” Lola muttered.
“What on God’s green earth is going on out here?” Madam Boyd said.
Victoria pointed a bony finger at Emmy. “She’s a thief! She stole my locket, and she’s pretending not to know anything about it.”
“That is a very serious accusation.” Madam Boyd turned to Emmy.
“I don’t know anything about her locket. I’ve never even seen it, so how could I have taken it?”
“I see. And what proof do you have of your accusation, Miss Stuart-Bevington?”
“It was on my dresser last night, and now it’s not there.”
Madam Boyd pursed her lips. “Is that all?”
“What more do you need?” Victoria asked. “She’s the only person who’s been in our room since I took it off last night. She would have had plenty of time to take it while I was at yoga this morning.”
“I left before you did! I had an early breakfast, because I need to get on the bus with the rest of the team!”
“And they’re probably waiting for us by now,” Lola said.
“All right, let’s hurry this along,” Madam Boyd said. “Miss Stuart-Bevington, I am sure the loss of such an item is difficult for you, but there is no proof that Miss Willick took it.”
“But—”
“Anyone could have entered your room while you were both out this morning, not to mention the possibility that it may have slipped behind the dresser or been misplaced.”
“I didn’t—”
“I suggest you do a thorough search of your room today. I believe the rest of you have a bus to catch.”
Victoria grudgingly moved out of the way and Emmy and Lola hurried to the waiting bus.
The bumpy bus ride wreaked havoc with Emmy’s stomach. Why did she have so much breakfast? Why had she joined this team? What made her think she could play soccer with the kinds of teams they would be facing today? These were the best teams in southeast England. She should have just stayed home and done something productive, like doing homework or eating chocolate.
An hour later, she was standing on the sidelines, listening to “God Save the Queen,” the British national anthem. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t have sung even if she had known the words. The school banner Manuela was carrying made Emmy’s heart flutter more than the flag did. She’d barely seen any of Britain since she’d been here. She couldn’t summon up a lot of loyalty to the flag. But Wellsworth… That was real. That was home. That was something she could be proud to represent.