‘It’s not grass,’ she said, although he was too far away to hear. ‘It’s a crown.’
By dinnertime, Allie had given up putting a bright face on things and was in full-on mope mood. Maybe she’d been away too long to just … come back. It was as if, when she’d gone, life at Cimmeria had closed in behind her, filling whatever gap she might have left.
She walked into the dining room with hesitant steps. At first glance, everything was as it had always been – the room glowed with candles. The tables were set in the traditional way, with crystal glasses, heavy silver cutlery and white linen. But it was mostly empty now. The students easily fit at five round tables. The teachers and guards occupied four more.
In normal times, dinners at Cimmeria were lively affairs with a high, constant buzz of conversation and laughter. But the mood tonight was distinctly subdued. People did talk but it all lacked life and energy.
Spotting Nicole and Zoe with Lucas and Katie, Allie made her way to them.
‘Hi, Allie.’ Katie smiled at her as if they were old friends. ‘Welcome back.’
‘Hi,’ Allie mumbled without enthusiasm. Katie’s smile faded.
An uncomfortable silence fell. Zoe looked from Katie to Allie, frowning.
‘Katie’s been helping us,’ she announced, in a tone that said Allie was being unreasonable. ‘She’s our friend now.’
Everyone was looking at Allie, waiting for her to say something diplomatic or friendly. She couldn’t do it. She knew she was being childish but she couldn’t seem to stop. It was as if Katie, of all people, had replaced her in the group.
She fixed the redhead with a cold stare. ‘Awesome.’
Colour rising in her cheeks, Katie turned to Lucas and asked a random question about course work in a clear attempt to change the subject.
Lucas shot Allie a disapproving look before answering.
Zoe looked like she wanted to say something else but Nicole rested a hand on her arm and shook her head.
No one talked to Allie after that.
At seven o’clock precisely, Carter and Sylvain walked into the dining room together with Zelazny, who closed the doors behind them.
Sylvain slipped into the empty seat next to Allie, who studiously avoided Carter’s gaze.
Seeing her expression, Sylvain leaned close to her. ‘Are you OK?’
Allie’s lower lip trembled but she just shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
Because Carter was right: she wanted to run away. Only there was nowhere to go.
As soon as dinner ended, Allie made a beeline for the door. She was half-running down the main hallway when Sylvain caught up with her.
Taking her by the hand, he pulled her with him into the shadows under the swooping curve of the grand staircase near Isabelle’s office.
‘Allie …’ he said as soon as they were out of sight. ‘Dîtes moi. What’s the matter? You hardly said a word at dinner. You hardly ate. You seem so sad. Did something happen?’
He searched her face as if looking for clues.
Allie dropped her gaze. She couldn’t really tell him about Carter because there had always been so much tension between the two of them, and if she explained about Katie it would sound petty. In fact, now that she thought about it, it all suddenly seemed ridiculous and overly emotional anyway.
‘I’m sorry.’ She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her face. ‘I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Nothing is the way I expected and everyone …’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m just tired.’
He was standing so close to her she could feel the warmth of his body. It was hard to feel self-pitying when he was looking at her like that.
‘You’re sure?’ he said. ‘No one said anything to hurt you?’
Allie gave a wan smile.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m being an idiot. I guess I just miss … France. Your place. The way things were. Everything’s so … I don’t know. Complicated here.’
Sylvain stepped closer; his legs pressed against hers. Now Allie could smell the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne. Feel his breath on her cheeks.
She looked up at him questioningly.
With light fingers, he picked up a loose strand of her hair from the top of her shoulder and let it run through his fingers like silk. Goosebumps sprang up on Allie’s arms and shoulders.
‘There’s something that will cheer you up,’ he said. His voice, low and accented, made her shiver. ‘It’s a surprise. But there’s something I have to do first. Meet me outside the back door in half an hour?’
Excited curiosity ran through her. At this moment she wanted nothing more than a distraction.
‘I’ll be there.’
After Sylvain left, Allie didn’t really know what to do with herself. She walked down the grand hallway as far as the library door, then turned and paced back again.
There was no doubt what he had in mind involved kissing. Taking everything to the next step.
And that was fine, right? After all, she was attracted to him. And Carter was obviously not an issue. He’d been a lot of things today, but romantic wasn’t one of them.
Why did that matter so much?
She longed to discuss it all with Rachel. She’d know what to do.
‘Hey, Allie.’ Katie’s familiar Chelsea accent stopped her outside the common room. Turning, she saw the redhead hurrying towards her, blue pleated skirt flaring around her perfect legs.
Oh good, Allie thought, despairing.
She braced herself for Katie’s wall of sarcasm. But it didn’t happen.
Instead, the other girl seemed almost nervous. She kept toying with a delicate gold bracelet that dangled from her slim wrist. The light from the chandelier above them glinted off her hair, making it sparkle like fine strands of copper. Her skin was poreless.
‘This is going to sound odd,’ Katie began. ‘But I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re back. And … I know you don’t like me and I don’t blame you. I’ve been a total bitch. I’m sorry … kind of.’ She stopped playing with her bracelet and looked up at Allie with the sharp green eyes of a pedigree cat. ‘You were a bitch to me too, you know.’
Briefly, Allie considered defending herself. But she changed her mind. What Katie was saying was true. She gave as good as she got.
‘Anyway,’ Katie continued, ‘then Nathaniel happened and you were like some kind of superhero. I don’t know if I ever told you that I thought it was amazing what you and the others did. I don’t know how you’re so brave. I just …’ She bit her lip. ‘I just know that I’m not. Brave, I mean.’
Allie was flabbergasted. Whatever she’d expected Katie to say it wasn’t this.
‘And now … the thing is … I don’t want to be your enemy,’ Katie said. ‘I think we have enough of those right now. So, I’d like to declare a truce. With you. For a while, at least.’ She paused before adding, ‘When it’s all over we can go back to despising each other if you’d like.’
‘You want … You … To be … friends?’ Allie found it hard to say words that made any sense.
‘I know, right?’ A rueful half-smile touched Katie’s lips. ‘Quel oddity. But you did save the school. And I’m not a complete cretin. Besides, I mostly hated you because of Sylvain anyway. And I’m over him now.’
She smoothed the lines of her skirt with a demure sweep of her hands.
‘Is this for real?’ Allie finally recovered the power of speech. ‘You seriously want a truce?’
‘I seriously do.’ Katie held her gaze. ‘This is not a game. What do you think?’
This was huge. Allie and Katie had hated each other from the first time they met. Katie had been so vicious, so cruel. Allie wondered if it was possible to put that behind her. To try again. But Katie had helped them when Nathaniel came for the students. And everyone else seemed to have forgiven her.
The least she could do was give it a shot.
‘OK,’ she said after a long pause. ‘Truce. But it?
??s weird.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Katie’s lips curved up. ‘Welcome to the new normal. It’s all messed up.’
‘Katie! Over here.’
They both looked up to see Lucas waving from across the common room.
Most of the remaining students seemed to be in there, but the room still felt wrong. On a normal night in the old days, it would be packed at this hour. The sprawling space with its tall bookshelves stacked with games and books looked the same, but its leather chairs and sofas were mostly empty. The baby grand piano in the corner sat silent.
Katie waved back at him. ‘I should go.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘I’m really glad we sorted this out. I think I’ll like not fighting with you.’
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and sashayed across the room. From the doorway, Allie watched her walk to where Lucas sat on a sofa. He welcomed her with a jovial insult but Allie didn’t miss the way his eyes skated approvingly across her figure.
A frown creased her brow. Lucas was Rachel’s boyfriend. Katie and Lucas weren’t exactly cuddled up together but they looked awfully cosy.
Something drew her glance to the back of the room. In a dim corner, Carter sat alone in a deep leather chair. A heavy book was open in his lap and he was reading it intently .
A lock of dark hair had fallen forward into his eyes but he didn’t seem aware of it. His long legs were stretched out in front of him. He looked older than she remembered. More grown-up.
She wondered if she looked older now, too.
She wished they could just be friends without all this … stuff between them. One of them was always mad at the other one. They were always finding reasons to be upset with each other. While she’d been away she’d missed him more than she’d expected to, and it threw her into confusion. Lying by the pool pretending to study, she’d find herself wondering what he was doing. If he missed her at all.
But Sylvain’s constant, attentive presence had made it hard to know how she felt.
Now, with both of them around, things weren’t getting any clearer.
7
Seven
When Allie reached the back door, a dark-haired female guard with a torch attached to her utility belt like a handgun opened it for her before she asked.
‘Uh … thanks,’ she said, trying not to sound as weirded out by all of this new security as she was.
The guard gave an officious nod and closed the door.
Outside, the sky was cobalt, just beginning to blacken at the edges. A cool breeze lifted her hair.
A few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets, Sylvain paced the stone walkway. As soon as he saw her, he brightened.
‘There you are. Let’s go. We have to hurry.’
Allie squinted at him suspiciously. ‘Why? Where are we going?’
His lips quirked up.
‘I knew you’d hate this part.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come on. I promise it’s OK. It’s just a surprise. A good surprise.’
She’d never seen him more excited. He was practically hopping up and down with it.
His mood was contagious. Putting thoughts of unfixable Carter and miserable Cimmeria from her mind, Allie took his hand.
‘This way,’ he said, pointing to the right.
The footpath curved away from the terraced gardens behind the school to the edge of the forest. If you followed it far enough, Allie knew it would bring you to the walled garden. From there you could follow it up the hill to the castle ruins. But Sylvain turned off the path early, into the trees.
‘I thought we couldn’t go into the woods?’ she said.
He gave a mysterious smile. ‘I have permission.’
It was darker now – the last of the light had disappeared from the sky. As they moved further into the forest he laced his fingers through hers.
Allie could not figure out where he was taking her. She knew there was nothing ahead of them but forest. The whole thing didn’t make any sense.
‘Seriously, Sylvain. This is crazy. Where are we going?’
Her impatience seemed to amuse him; he stifled a grin. ‘Trust me.’
Just when she was about to demand information, a ghostly glow appeared ahead of them, and suddenly she knew where they were going: The folly.
But why?
Then they stepped through the trees into a clearing and the night lit up.
Allie stopped in her tracks.
Dropping her hand, Sylvain stepped back to watch her reaction.
The folly was a fanciful little structure that served no real purpose – nothing more than a gazebo made of marble with a domed roof, it was intended only to be pretty. A pleasant surprise for Victorians out for a stroll. Inside was a statue of a woman, caught in the middle of a dance.
Tonight it had all been draped in fairy lights. Every piece of marble was enrobed in their sparkling glow. Even the dancing girl held strands of lights in her raised hand like an illuminated veil.
Four steps led up to the statue. And something had been left at the top of the stairs.
Allie turned to Sylvain. In the glow of the lights she could see the anticipation in his eyes.
‘Go ahead,’ he urged her.
Hesitantly, she walked closer to the folly until she could see what it was.
A cake sat at the dancer’s feet, surrounded by candles that flickered in the breeze.
‘Oh …’ Allie pressed her fingers against her lips.
‘There are seventeen candles.’ Sylvain had joined her at the foot of the steps. She blinked up at him in stunned amazement. ‘Happy birthday.’
Allie was struck speechless. In all the chaos, she’d completely forgotten today was her birthday.
But Sylvain remembered.
Tears burned her eyes, blurring the scene.
It had been so long since anyone gave her a birthday cake. It had to be before Christopher ran away. Last year she’d spent her birthday night out with Mark and Harry in London tagging buildings along a train line.
Mark had painted ‘Happy Bloody Birthday, Allie!’ on a wall. And that was that.
‘I …’ Her voice was unsteady, so she stopped talking.
It would have taken Sylvain ages to string all those lights. And the candles. They were the kind they had on the tables in the dining hall – he must have gone back after dinner and sneaked them out.
She turned to him to say something – anything – that could convey how much this meant to her, but there weren’t words for that. Not any that she knew. So she reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers.
His lips were gentle against hers, questioning. Teasing the corners of her mouth until her lips parted and she could taste him.
She stood on her toes, stretching up to twine her wrists behind his neck, deepening the kiss, demanding more.
She’d wanted to do this ever since she saw him standing on the steps of the house that first day in France with the sky in his eyes.
This had to be right, she told herself. There was no way she couldn’t choose Sylvain now. Not after this. It felt right.
Tangling her fingers in the soft curls of his hair, she leaned into him, letting him bear her weight.
Instantly, his arms tightened around her. Supporting her.
For the first time in a long while, Allie thought maybe she was making the right decision.
‘It’s my dream cake. Chocolate with extra chocolate, sprinkled with chocolate.’ Licking icing from her fingers, Allie looked up at Sylvain in the twinkling light. ‘Amazing.’
They sat together at the foot of the dancing statue. His arm was draped lightly around her waist and she was snug in the warmth of his body.
‘I’m sorry I forgot to bring forks. We have to eat like savages.’
His curious phrasing made her giggle.
‘I’m totally cool with being a savage.’ She broke off another chunk of cake. ‘Tell me again how you got the cake on the plane?’
He bent his head to drop a light kiss on her shoulder. ‘Eve
n though we had to leave, Lourdes was determined you should have your birthday cake. So she packed it in a box, which we hid in a suitcase. I had the guards put it in the luggage hold in a place where nothing could damage it.’
Lourdes was the Cassel family cook. The first time she’d met Allie she’d tutted: ‘Tu es trop mince.’ (You are too thin.) From then on she was always slipping Allie food – fresh baguettes spread with soft cheese; flaky croissants slathered in jam; vividly coloured macaroons and langue de chat biscuits dipped in dark chocolate, which were her favourites.
‘Oh, I miss her.’ Allie sighed, wistfully. ‘I miss France.’
Sylvain’s smile faded; his eyes grew more serious. ‘We will go back.’
‘I hope so.’
The mood had grown sombre and, noticing this, Sylvain cleared his throat and gave a mysterious smile.
‘There’s one more surprise …’
Reaching into the shadows behind the statue, he pulled out a small box tied with silver ribbon.
‘A present?’ Allie beamed at him. She wiped the sticky icing off her fingers before holding out her hands. ‘I can’t believe you got me a present.’
He seemed to find her question absurd. ‘Bien sûr. It’s your birthday.’
Allie loved it when he spoke French.
The ribbon was made of heavy silk. She pulled at the end and it unfurled, revealing a blue jewellery box.
Her heart fluttered. She was suddenly nervous. No boy had ever given her jewellery before.
The box opened with an expensive creak.
‘Oh, Sylvain …’ she breathed.
Inside, a delicate chain of white gold glittered . The chain held two pendants – one a key, ornately designed with swirls and flourishes, the other, an old-fashioned lock, each no bigger than her thumbprint.
Allie couldn’t seem to move as Sylvain lifted the necklace from the little pins that held it in place on a satin cushion.
‘I had this made for you.’ Gently, he moved her hair out of the way so he could place the necklace around her throat. The metal was cool against her skin. ‘It is how I feel about you. The secrets in your life … I want to give you a key to all of them. Unlock them for you. So you can be free.’