‘But you told some people.’ Jo’s voice was accusing. ‘You told Rachel, didn’t you? And Carter.’
‘I told only those I had to tell. Only a very small number of people know.’
‘A small number of people,’ Jo said. ‘But not me.’
‘Jo, please,’ Allie said. ‘It wasn’t personal. I didn’t want anyone to know at all until …’
But Jo didn’t wait for her explanations. ‘I’m so glad it wasn’t personal.’ Pushing her chair back with a squawk, she stood up, her shoulders stiff. ‘That makes me feel so much better about everything.’
As she walked away, Allie dropped her head into her hands.
My whole day, she thought glumly. My whole day is going to be like this.
A few weeks ago, she would have gone to Carter for refuge. They would find somewhere to be alone and he would have shielded her from the worst of the attention. But those days were over.
She was going to have to take care of herself.
When she walked down the grand hallway she moved in a cloud of whispers, curious sideways glances and stares.
In the end, she retreated to the library, where the thick Oriental rugs absorbed the rumble of gossip. At the librarian’s desk, Eloise was staring at a document, a pen in one hand.
‘I’d like to use one of the study carrels, please.’ Allie tried to sound casual, as if she asked this sort of thing every day.
‘Technically those are for final-year students,’ the librarian began, but seeing Allie’s desperate expression she changed her mind, ‘and good students like you who helped clean the library after the fire.’
Reaching into a drawer, she pulled out a small key on a silver ring. ‘The third carrel is free. Use it for as long as you like.’
‘Thank you.’ Allie could hear the relief in her own voice. The librarian had obviously heard it too, and she looked at her with concern.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘No,’ Allie said, turning away. ‘It really isn’t.’
Getting the key turned out to be the easy part. The carrel doors were virtually invisible, tucked into the heavily carved oak panelling on the library walls so skilfully no join could be seen. She felt along the carved squares, acorns and roses until she found a straight crack that had to be a door frame. From there she could find her way down the wall slowly looking for similar cracks until she found the one she thought was the third doorway.
Then she had to find the lock.
By the time she finally found it tucked in the heart of a flower, she was frustrated and angry. Angry at herself. Angry at Carter and Sylvain. Angry as hell at Katie. And not thrilled about the stupid panelling.
The door opened with a nearly silent click. When she flipped the light switch the room sprang into life – vibrant colours from the mural that covered the walls formed a rainbow of rage that suited her mood.
This mural showed people facing each other with swords and pikes at the ready alongside a stream flowing through a verdant field. Clouds roiled overhead, with menacing cherubs holding vicious-looking golden bows and arrows. Everybody was shouting at everybody else.
Flinging her bag to the floor with a reverberating thud, Allie paced the confines of the small room, her hands tugging her hair. ‘What am I going to do?’ she muttered to herself. ‘How do I deal with this?’
She dropped into the chair behind the desk and lowered her head on to her arms. Everything seemed to have fallen apart. How had Katie found out about Lucinda? Nobody would have told her. Certainly not Isabelle, Rachel or Carter – and they were the only ones who knew.
A knock at the door interrupted her fretful thinking. It was most likely Eloise; some more senior student probably needed the room. She was already arguing her case when she opened the door. ‘Eloise, I’ve only been in here a few minutes …’
When she saw Carter on the other side, her words faded away. She hadn’t been this close to him since the night they broke up. Somehow seeing him was everything she wanted and the last thing she needed, at the same time. For a split second she wondered if, by some miracle, he’d forgiven her and things could go back to the way they were before. Then she saw the jaded look in his dark eyes and she knew that was just a dream.
As she stared at him, stunned, he gestured at the room behind her.
‘Can I come in or do you just want to stand here?’ The impatience in his voice jarred her and she jumped away from the door.
‘Sorry. Come in.’
He looked around the room as he stepped past her, taking in the bag she’d hurled earlier, which now spilled books and papers on to the floor. Glancing up at the furious mural around them, he muttered, ‘How appropriate,’ before throwing himself into the chair in front of the desk.
His straight dark hair fell forward over his eyebrows and he shoved it back with an absent gesture she’d always loved. For a moment she thought her heart would shatter in her chest, like glass dropped on stone. But it kept beating for some reason.
Standing with her back against the door, she took a deep shaky breath. His eyes flickered up to her. ‘I thought we should talk.’
His calm but distant voice chilled her as she walked to the desk and sat down across from him, her back held very straight.
‘How … How are you?’ Such a stupid thing to say but she really did want to know.
‘I’m great, Allie, thanks.’ His smile was sardonic. ‘My girlfriend is running around in the woods with other guys and doesn’t trust me enough to be honest with me. But otherwise things are good. I aced my history essay.’