Sylvain was leaning against the door frame watching her. In the split second their eyes met she saw something in his that took her by surprise. A kind of sadness. But almost immediately the look disappeared, replaced by his usual well-cultivated blankness.
‘You look better,’ he said.
‘I’m really fine.’ Her hand rose to her temple instinctively. ‘Thanks.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Nicole sent me up to check on you.’
Dropping the magazine on to a coffee table, Allie affected a casual stretch and yawn.
‘She seems nice,’ she said after a second. ‘How long have you two been together?’
‘We’ve known each other for ever,’ he said carelessly. ‘We are old friends.’
‘Oh.’
Allie concentrated on not finding his accent charming. Her eyes shot up to meet his for a second then flitted away. She found it a little hard to focus with him just standing there, watching her as if he knew what she was thinking.
A possible distraction occurred to her. Sitting up straight, she rooted around the sofa underneath her jacket. ‘Here’s your scarf back. Thanks for loaning it to me.’
Sylvain took the soft cashmere scarf from her hands but instead of walking away, sat down on the chair across from her. ‘I need to talk you about something else. I’ve been trying to see you alone.’ He fidgeted with the scarf and she studied his long slim fingers with their neat oval nails; so different from Carter’s strong, solid hands. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I have put it off too long because I think you won’t like it.’
A chill ran through her and her eyes flicked towards the door through which Carter would be walking any minute. When she looked back at Sylvain he was studying her curiously. She didn’t like the way his gaze could still unsteady her.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s just that …I have you.’ His electric blue eyes held her gaze.
Glancing again at the door, she drew back. ‘What do you mean, you have me?’ she whispered. ‘Have me how?’
Leaning closer he lowered his voice.
‘To investigate. For Night School.’ He held out his hands, palms up. ‘I have you.’
FOURTEEN
‘Nineteen twenty-five was a particularly fertile year for literature.’ Isabelle leaned against an empty desk as she lectured. ‘That year The Great Gatsby was published, among many other works. Fitzgerald thought Gatsby was his greatest work. He described it as a “sustained imagination of a sincere and yet radiant world”. But I see it as a morality tale. A book about a good man seduced by corrupt people.’ She straightened, and began walking around the circle of desks. ‘What I want you to tell me is whether that good man is really a good man at the end of the story. And was he truly good at the start?’
Allie, who was just enduring the class today, circled the title in her notebook and put a star beside it. As Isabelle continued to talk, though, her thoughts wondered back to what happened last night. And how furious Carter had been when he found out.
Sylvain had left by the time Carter returned, carrying two steaming cups of tea and looking comforting and normal and … Carter-like.
Allie waited for him to sit down before she told him. When it came to Carter, she didn’t care about the rules. He was so jealous of Sylvain. If she didn’t tell him and he found out later, he’d never forgive her.
As she explained what Sylvain had said, Carter didn’t shout or rage. It was worse than that. He went quiet and pale, and the tendons in his neck were taut.
After a long pause he said in a low voice, ‘I’ll talk to Zelazny.’
‘The thing is … Sylvain says …’ Carter twitched, but she continued. ‘He says he already asked Jerry and Zelazny to change the assignment. They refused. That’s why it took him so long to—’
‘Great.’ Cutting her off in mid-sentence, Carter shoved his hands deep in his pockets and looked down, his gaze so icy Allie marvelled that the floor didn’t frost.
‘It’ll be no big deal,’ she’d said, trying to make things better. ‘It’s just an interview – it’s one afternoon. Then it’s over.’
But Carter hadn’t been mollified. ‘They really are,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘messing with us right now.’
Isabelle tapped Allie’s desk sharply with a fingertip, making her jump. Without interrupting her patter, the headmistress shot her a warning look before continuing her journey around the circle. Allie sat up straighter and tried to pay attention. But her chest felt tight, as if the anxiety that curled up there had left less room for her lungs.
After class, she and Carter were going to do their interview.
She wished the class would last for ever. But it was already over.
Isabelle’s parting words had to fight through the sound of students gathering their things: ‘Please collect your copies at the library – Eloise has them ready. And I’d like you to read the first three chapters by tomorrow’s class so we can discuss them. You’re free to go.’
‘Allie, I’m going to a kick-boxing class, want to come?’ Zoe looked up at her expectantly as they walked through the door.
God yes.
Beating something up was about the only thing she wanted to do right now.
‘I wish I could. But I’ve got plans.’ The regret in Allie’s voice was so tangible Zoe gave her an odd look as she turned away.