She knew she should run back to the school to get help. That is what Isabelle would want her to do.
But what if it was Nathaniel? Or Gabe? What if they were here now? This could be her chance to end this. To pay them back for what they’d done.
She wasn’t back to full strength. And she was alone. Fighting them now would be a bad idea. If she lost…
She didn’t know what would happen if she lost.
But all she could think was: If I won… it would all be over.
In the end, the decision wasn’t that difficult. Rising to her feet she looked for a makeshift weapon.
Whatever the odds – it didn’t matter. If they were here she wasn’t running away. She owed Jo that much. She owed her bravery.
Finding two sharp bamboo stakes, she yanked them free of the frozen earth and carried one in each hand as, with careful steps, she crossed to the edge of the garden. There she paused to listen then, moving with stealth and speed, she followed her instincts towards the fruit orchard at the back.
She couldn’t feel the cold any more. Purpose made her warm and whole. She was entirely focused on what she was about to do.
She was almost there when she heard the sound again – much closer now. It came from the other side of the row of trees in front of her. Whoever it was, they were in there.
Her nerves tingled with anticipation – her stomach muscles tightened as she readied herself to spring.
That was when she heard the laugh.
The deep, familiar rumble was followed immediately by words she couldn’t make out and then another chuckle.
She knew that laugh.
No longer trying to keep quiet, she shoved through the dense cluster of apple and pear trees, half hidden in the early morning dark.
‘… and his face turned red, and his eyes bulged out of his face, and I swear to God…’
Bursting through the trees she saw Carter with his back to her, breaking thin branches into smaller sizes and piling them up as he told his story. Nearby, Mr Ellison smiled as he sharpened a set of clippers. A battery-powered lantern sat between them on the ground.
Embarrassment made heat rise to Allie’s cheeks. How could she have thought it was Nathaniel? She was paranoid.
But for God’s sake, she thought, why weren’t they looking out for me instead of sitting back here nattering?
Shame turned to anger in one red-hot instant.
‘Hey!’ She shouted louder than she’d intended. Carter whirled to face her, still holding a long branch in one hand. He looked gratifyingly startled. ‘Why didn’t anyone answer me when I called?’
She could hear the irritation in her own voice but before Carter could say anything Mr Ellison pointed his clippers at her, a frown lowering his brow.
‘You’re late, young lady. And I don’t like how you say “hello”.’
‘What? But I… I couldn’t find you. Didn’t you hear me calling?’ Her mood shifted without effort from anger to defensiveness. ‘I looked for you for ages. Nobody told me to come to the orchard, and’ – they were both staring at her as she finished lamely – ‘it’s dark.’
At that, Mr Ellison began stacking his tools into a worn metal box. ‘No need to go hiring a lawyer, Miss Sheridan. Just try to be on time from now on. And bring a torch. It doesn’t get light until after six.’
Allie refused to look at Carter but she knew he was trying not to smile.
Embarrassed, and in a bid to change the subject, she pointed aggressively at Carter. ‘What’s he doing here?’
Carter opened his mouth to reply but Mr Ellison cut him off. ‘Carter is going to be helping us out today for reasons that are… not entirely voluntary.’
His eyes twinkled as he said it, and this time Carter failed to stop his guilty grin.
Instantly, Allie’s hackles rose. So it’s funny when Carter gets detention, but I get treated like an axe murderer?
The injustice rekindled her rage.
‘Awesome.’ Her tone was sullen. ‘So, are we just going to stand around chatting about how funny it is when Carter breaks The Rules, or is there something you want me to do?’
Mr Ellison’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘I’d appreciate it if you kept a civil tone, Miss Sheridan.’
She couldn’t remember him ever looking truly stern before. Tall and broad-shouldered, with warm brown eyes and skin the colour of burnished oak, the groundskeeper had always been kind to her.
Normally she would have apologised and defused the situation but right now she was cold and bruised, every single one of her muscles hurt, she’d had that awful nightmare and nothing was fair.
She glared at him in mute rebellion.
When Allie didn’t respond, the groundskeeper spoke again, his tone signalling his disapproval. ‘I believe you’re right-handed, Allie?’
Some part of her wanted to end this standoff and just answer him straight but she was sulking in earnest now. So instead she gave a dismissive shrug and crossed her arms.
‘Allie, come on…’ Carter said softly.
She bit her lip hard to stop herself from telling him to just shut the hell up. Why wouldn’t he mind his own business?
Evidently having decided she wasn’t going to speak, Mr Ellison reached into the pocket of his dungarees and pulled out a pair of well-used secateurs, small enough to fit easily in her hand, and held them out to her. He made no move to step towards her. She was going to have to walk over and take them.
Allie’s arms stayed folded stubbornly. She didn’t want to give in. She wanted everyone to know how angry she was. How unfair everything was.