His next words stunned them both. ‘Back to Cimmeria.’
Allie’s heart flipped. Rachel shot her a disbelieving look.
Was it possible? They could go home?
Lucinda had always made it clear they couldn’t go back to the school until the situation with Nathaniel was resolved. Which it clearly wasn’t. So … what had changed?
‘You’re serious?’ Allie said. ‘We can really go back?’
Watching them from her seat near the tall windows that overlooked the pool, Sylvain’s mother seemed unnaturally calm in the face of all this upheaval.
‘Every place you’ve gone to has been discovered eventually.’ Her voice was a rich alto. Her French accent made each word elegant. ‘For you … no place is truly safe.’
A slight frown darkened Mr Cassel’s expression. ‘That is not precisely true.’ He turned to Allie. ‘Lucinda – your grandmother – has decided you will be safer in England. And –’ he hesitated briefly – ‘we agree. At least, we think you’ll be in no more danger there than you are here. And you can get on with your studies.’
Allie couldn’t believe it. She saw Rachel fighting an excited smile and she knew how she felt.
Home, she thought. I’m going home.
She would see Zoe and Nicole again.
And Carter.
The very thought of him made her nervous. She’d never got a chance to say goodbye. Never had a chance to sort things through.
Never made up her mind.
‘When do we leave?’ Sylvain held his father’s gaze, his expression intense.
Mr Cassel opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again as if he’d thought better of it.
Allie looked back and forth between them, aware some message was being exchanged but unsure of what it was.
Mr Cassel finally spoke. ‘Allie and Rachel leave tonight. If you choose to go with them … then that is when you will go, too, I suppose.’
‘Of course I’m going back with them,’ Sylvain said evenly. ‘You know that.’
From her seat by the window, Sylvain’s mother made a small sound. She was still gazing out of the window, her lips tight. As always, she was elegantly dressed – in her white linen blouse and grey trousers; a pale blue pashmina draped across her shoulders, she could have stepped out of a magazine.
But Allie had never seen her look so sad.
‘We would rather you stayed here,’ Mr Cassel said finally. ‘Where we can protect you.’
Sylvain replied to his father in rapid, low French. Allie had been practising but she still only caught only a couple of words. Jamais – never. And comprend – understand.
His father stood with such abruptness it made her jump. He said something to Sylvain that she didn’t catch and strode out of the room.
‘What did he say?’ she asked, looking at Sylvain.
It was Mrs Cassel who responded, her eyes on her son. ‘He said, “Do as you please.”’
‘Maman …’ Sylvain began, but his mother held up her hand, her white sleeve falling back to reveal a slim wrist the same tawny colour as his own skin.
‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said quietly. ‘I understand. But we love you. And we are afraid for you.’ Her gaze moved to encompass Allie and Rachel. ‘For all of you.’
An uncomfortable silence fell.
‘Well.’ Rachel cleared her throat. ‘I guess we should pack. And leave you two to talk.’ Standing, she gestured at Allie. ‘Come on. Those T-shirts won’t pack themselves.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Allie agreed, scrambling to follow. ‘And the trousers. Someone has to pack those, too.’
Sylvain didn’t even glance at them as they hurried up the stairs, leaving a heavy stillness behind.
Allie had already thrown all her things into bags before a guard informed her they wouldn’t leave until nightfall. Once they left the safety of the Cassel compound they needed to move fast, the guard explained, and for that the roads had to be clear of traffic.
In the end, it was after ten before they were finally called to the front door where a convoy of black SUVs waited, headlights glowing, engines purring,
Without a word, Sylvain’s father kissed Allie and Rachel on both cheeks. He said something quietly to Sylvain in French. Allie saw Sylvain’s jaw tighten as he listened. Then he disappeared back into the villa.
Mrs Cassel hugged Rachel.
‘Good luck with your studies, Rachel,’ she said, in her beautifully accented voice. ‘I should like you to be my doctor some day.’
‘Thanks for everything,’ Rachel said. The woman gave her an affectionate smile.
As Rachel headed out to the car, Mrs Cassel turned to Allie.
‘Goodbye, my dear.’ She pulled her close. Allie breathed in her perfume, a heady mix of exotic flowers and spice.
When she stepped back, Mrs Cassel held her by the shoulders, studying her face as if she wanted to say more. There was something in her warm, hazel eyes Allie couldn’t read. Caution, perhaps. Or doubt.
But all she said as she dropped her hands was: ‘Be careful, chère Allie.’
‘I will,’ Allie promised. Then something occurred to her. ‘What about you, though? Nathaniel knows where you are. He knows you helped me.’
Mrs Cassel seemed touched by her concern. ‘We are well protected,’ she said gently. ‘Besides, it’s not us he wants, my dear.’
Her honesty was chilling but Allie was grateful for it nonetheless as she hurried after Rachel to the line of cars.