After a minute, though, her exhausted muscles protested so loudly she slowed her pace. The night was cool – the rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing away. A glowing crescent moon dusted the landscape in silver.
Through the trees she caught a flash of something white. At first her breath stopped. Then she remembered.
The folly.
She’d forgotten all about the little gazebo where she’d hidden with Jules the night of the fire, but now she made her way over to its hiding place behind a line of trees.
The dome-roofed white structure was encircled by narrow columns. The moonlight illuminated the statue at its centre – a girl in a silky gown dancing eternally, arms above her head, a stone veil slipping through her fingers.
On the cold marble step next to the statue’s bare feet, Allie rested her head on her knees. But now that she wanted to cry, tears wouldn’t come. She felt empty.
Maybe I’m not cut out for it after all, she thought wretchedly. Maybe I’m not good enough for Night School.
She tried to imagine what it would be like to fail at Night School completely. What would Jules think? Or Lucas? Would they want to be her friend if they knew what a loser she was?
Jo was kicked out, she reasoned. And it hasn’t totally ruined her life.
But Jo was different. She travelled in the same social circles as Lucas and Katie and Jules. Her family was important. They’d all like her no matter what. Allie was an outsider. Her parents were nobody. She would never run into the others on skiing trips in Switzerland or shopping on Bond Street or Fifth Avenue.
Because she’d never be in those places.
Except I’m Lucinda’s granddaughter. The very thought was heady. So maybe I should be.
‘Allie.’
At the sound of the distinctive French voice, Allie looked up. Sylvain stood at the foot of the steps, his expression unreadable in the dark.
‘Hey.’ Allie put her head back down again. ‘What’s up? Seen any really rubbish new Night Schoolers lately?’
He sat down on the step beside her. ‘I wanted to make sure you were OK.’
‘Yeah well.’ Allie sat up. ‘I’m a total loser. But otherwise I’m fine. So … move along. There’s nothing to see here.’
‘I saw what happened.’ His vivid blue eyes met hers; colour crept across her cheeks as she turned away.
Shrugging to show how much she didn’t care, she said, ‘I hope it was entertaining.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not why I’m here. I know what went wrong. I can help.’
‘I know what went wrong, too.’ She didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I couldn’t do a really simple move. It was pretty obvious. I just … failed.’
He ignored her self-pity. ‘Zoe is very good but she is young. She’s never taught anybody before. She was showing you the right things but she missed some details. Your hands were in the right place but your feet were wrong every time. If your feet are not right it will not work. I can teach you. If you let me.’
She studied him out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t see any sign that he was making fun of her – his voice was steady and calm. And there was something about him that made her feel comforted. Maybe he could help. She couldn’t bear another nightmare session like the one she’d just had.
As she hesitated, though, one thought nagged at her the most.
Carter wouldn’t like this …
But Carter wasn’t here. And she had to practise.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘We can try. But be aware: I totally suck at this.’
His smile was confident. ‘I promise you can do it.’
He led her to a nearby clearing where the pine needles lay thick enough on the ground to make a springy mattress.
After kicking stones and fallen branches out of the way, he turned to her.
‘Now, stand as if you were about to attack me,’ he said.
Allie crouched down and tried to look tough, her arms bent at her side, hands curled into fists. Amusement flickered in his eyes; he struggled to contain a laugh. ‘OK, that is all wrong.’ He walked closer to her. ‘Look, you’re a runner, so your strength is in your legs. Stand up straight.’
Over the next few minutes he explained to her how to arrange her body into the correct posture – legs straight but knees soft, arms loose at her side, feet shoulder-width apart. But something still wasn’t right.
‘Turn your feet this way,’ he said, demonstrating. When she tried to emulate him, he shook his head. ‘No, that’s not quite right.’
Crouching down beside her, he reached out for her leg. Instinctively, she flinched away from his touch.
He stopped, his hands still outstretched. He looked up at her, moonlight turning the blue of his eyes to glitter.
‘May I?’ he asked.
Allie’s stomach tightened. It would be stupid not to let him touch her ankle. He was being helpful.
‘Yes,’ she said. Her voice sounded small and she cleared her throat, watching as he carefully took her ankle in his hands to reposition her foot. His hands were warm against her skin.
If he noticed her anxiety, he didn’t show it. When she was in position, he demonstrated how she should grab him. Again, he asked permission before touching her. This time, though, she said ‘yes’ with more confidence.
His body pressed lightly against hers as he moved one of her hands to his shoulder, and the other to his elbow – sliding her fingers gently into place. She stood stiffly but his light touch spread goosebumps across her skin.