‘Why don’t you two take this out to the truck together? It’s too heavy for one person alone.’
With Allie holding one end of the box and Rachel the other, they manoeuvred through the bookcases to the back door. Outside, a white van waited, its back doors open. The driver stood a few feet away talking into a mobile phone. He paid no attention to them.
The damp morning air left a sheen of moisture on Allie’s skin, like oil on water. It was quiet and grey, the only sound the crunching of their feet on the gravel drive and the driver’s noncommittal, monotone voice as they slid the box on top of another just like it in the back of the van.
‘I’m sorry,’ Allie said suddenly. ‘I didn’t think about how you might feel about … anything. I was just being selfish and …’
Relief filled Rachel’s eyes and her words flooded out in a rush. ‘Me too. You have to do what’s right for you. I can’t expect you to be me.’
‘It’s just …’ Allie drew a line in the grey gravel with her toe. ‘I really have to do this, Rach. Not because I believe in what it all stands for, but because of what I’ll learn. I’ll be able to protect myself. I’ll find out more about my family if I’m on the inside. They won’t be able to hide things from me any more. Maybe I’ll find out what happened to Christopher, because I think they know and they’re not telling me. Can you see my side of this?’
‘I can.’
But Allie could hear the reluctance in Rachel’s tone.
‘I just wish there was another way … for your sake. Because I think you’ll get more than you bargained for once you’re inside, Allie.’
Out of the corner of her eye Allie checked on the driver. He was still talking on his phone.
Seeing her glance, Rachel tilted her head towards the door. As they headed back inside she changed the subject. ‘Are you working with Jo again today?’
‘Painting.’ Allie nodded. ‘Because I’m serious about my art.’
Rachel snorted, but her expression was serious. ‘How is she, do you think?’
Allie thought about Jo laughing and scrubbing walls yesterday. ‘Better than I expected. She’s sort of … fine, I guess.’
‘A little too fine, maybe?’ As soon as Rachel said the words, Allie realised she was right.
‘Do you think she’s faking it?’ Allie whispered. ‘I mean, Isabelle’s making her see a shrink and everything.’
Rachel didn’t seem reassured. ‘I don’t want this to sound mean, but Jo’s a master at manipulation and deception – anybody who grew up the way she did would be. And she’s just had this huge awful thing happen in her life yet she’s still normal, bubbly Jo.’ She shrugged. ‘Something doesn’t seem right. She could have one of her meltdowns. So, just … keep an eye on her.’
Allie nodded. ‘I will.’
‘And be careful with all this,’ Rachel gesturing vaguely, ‘stuff you’re getting involved with. Watch your back.’
‘It’s not like I’ll be alone,’ Allie pointed out. ‘I’ll have your dad to look out for me.’
She didn’t like the look Rachel gave her.
‘Just because he likes you, don’t think he’ll treat you any differently from anyone else. He’s tougher than you think.’
‘I’m ready,’ Allie promised, wondering if she was.
‘Welcome to Cimmeria Academy. All new students please line up on the left. Returning students on the right.’
Isabelle stood on a small white platform at the far end of the great hall. She wasn’t shouting, but her powerful voice somehow soared above the din of two hundred chattering students. It was the first day of the autumn term, and Allie and Rachel stood in the queue on the right wearing identical crisp, white, long-sleeved shirts with dark blue crests, tucked into short, dark blue pleated skirts.
‘God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s good to be back in this stupid uniform,’ Allie said, straightening the hem of her skirt.
‘I hear you.’ Rachel wrinkled her nose. ‘And yet I disagree.’
The two studied the new students in the queue across from them.
‘They all look so young and nervous,’ Allie said. ‘Did I look like that when I started?’
‘Of course not.’ Rachel flipped her long, curly ponytail over one shoulder and quickly changed the subject. ‘The place looks incredible, doesn’t it?’
‘Totally.’ Allie followed her gaze up the walls, panelled with oak, and out into the hallway, where the polished wood floors shone and the chandeliers sparkled without a speck of dust. ‘I can’t believe we did it. All that work …’ She flexed her fingers and admired her healing blisters. ‘There’s still loads to do but at least the main stuff is finished.’
‘And can I just say, TFFT,’ Rachel replied. ‘I’ve had enough book sorting and stacking, painting and sweeping to last a lifetime.’
The last ten days had been intense and non-stop. Walls had been scrubbed and painted, heavy Oriental rugs taken away to be cleaned then returned, floors polished, and furniture moved in and out of rooms endlessly. Each day involved a haze of work that had left her too tired at the end for anything except tumbling into bed. Many rooms were still being worked on, but enough of the building had been restored to allow the term to start on time.