‘I’m being too pedantic?’
She nodded.
‘OK, second attempt. What I mean is I think I’m falling for you too. How was that?’
Of course thinking would have to be part of the deal; he wouldn’t be Kieran without that. ‘Much better.’ They hugged for a long minute until a hooting outside the cottage disturbed their privacy.
‘That’s them. I’ll be back before you know it.’ He pushed something else in her hand before leaving.
‘What’s this?’
‘A present!’ he called, jumping into the back of the minibus and sliding the door closed.
She waited for the bus to wind out of sight then opened the parcel. A phone dropped out of the package and on to her palm. A nice one—not too flashy to attract attention but top specifications. It came with a note.
No point giving you a number without something to call it on. Elementary logic so you can’t refuse. Kieran xxx.
A full moon rose over the trees of the deer park, turning the view to greyscale lawns and silhouetted oaks. This was Kieran’s first in-the-flesh sight of the manor. He had studied the satellite imagery so knew the layout but it was more impressive than he had expected. He had been shown to a room on his own, Joe billeted on a different floor. The noble family that owned Westron had abandoned the old-fashioned Tudor castle and moved a few miles to a new site in favour of living surrounded by the best the eighteenth century could offer. What they had built was a Palladian gem of a country house, architecture by Vanbrugh and gardens designed by Capability Brown.
Joe slid into the room. ‘Nice digs.’
‘Not bad.’ Kieran unpacked his shaving stuff and put it in the en suite bathroom cleverly built into the corner of the room. No external windows, the extractor fan hummed loud enough to kill any hopes of overhearing them. He nodded to Joe, giving him the signal it was safe to talk.
‘Mine’s one floor down, two over. The Cavalier’s Chamber. I see they put you in the Pagoda Bedroom.’ Joe perched on the edge of the bath.
‘The Chinese pattern on the wallpaper is hand painted. Worth a fortune. The housekeeper told me not to touch it.’
‘So a game of darts is nixed then. Why do you think they brought the course forward? I thought this place was dedicated to conferences during term.’
‘Perhaps they had a cancellation.’ Kieran let his scepticism seep into his tone.
‘Or?’
‘Maybe they didn’t like us sticking by Raven.’
‘I can’t see why that should worry them.’
‘I agree it doesn’t make a lot of sense. So I’ve been thinking. Maybe we were wrong to assume Raven is their chief target? At least, I’m wondering now if they aren’t also aiming for Robert Bates.’
‘Her granddad? Why?’
‘I’m thinking they’re easing him out—him and other staff members who wouldn’t go along with this system. When Raven leaves, they’ll make him choose: his job or his granddaughter. He’ll have to go and they’ll have got away with bullying her into quitting and forcing him to resign. And the dance teacher, Miss Hollis, told me after our exam that this was her last term teaching at Westron. Her contract hadn’t been renewed.’
‘Yeah, I get it. And the caretaker goes everywhere, knows everything happening in a school—he’d soon notice a pattern if all these kids keep coming back changed.’
‘I predict the next move, if they’ve not already done it, is that he will be told he can’t continue to house her. His job means he has to live on site. They are making it so he has to choose between his position and his granddaughter.’
‘And he’ll choose Raven.’
‘Of course. They may offer him early retirement to sweeten the pill but it has to look to the world that they aren’t kicking out a man with thirty years’ service. He has to choose to go.’ Kieran took his bull whip out of his backpack and threaded it through the loops of his jeans so it went round his waist several times. An odd belt, but unless you looked very carefully it would pass inspection.
Joe just arched a brow.
‘You never know.’
‘True. I can see this scheme could add up to big business. So how do you think they are getting their results?’
‘That, my friend, is what we are going to find out.’
Joe stood up. ‘OK. Orientation meeting is in a few minutes in the Music Room. Ready?’
‘Let’s go catch ourselves some crooks.’
Kieran did not recognize the couple introducing the course to the six students. The man—‘call me Heath’—was fresh-faced, casually dressed in jeans and polo shirt, recalling a children’s TV presenter in his enthusiasm. His partner, Namrata Varma, took a more serious approach. Her long dark brown hair was beautifully groomed and she wore a spotless white suit. Kieran now understood who had given the girls at Westron their style notes.
‘Over the next weeks while we are together, we are going to have lots of fun.’ Heath bounced around at the front as if he had springs in his ankles. ‘This course is designed to strengthen those elements of your character which are most helpful to your personal development and to weed out the harmful. We’ll be giving feedback on a daily basis in our one-to-ones so you each have something tailored exactly to your needs.’
He stepped back and Namrata took over. ‘Now, as you will know, your parents or guardian have put your name forward for this course. We are sure you do not want to disappoint them by failing to give it one hundred and ten per cent of your attention.’
Kieran raised his hand.
‘Yes, Kieran?’
‘It is not possible to give one hundred and ten per cent of a self-contained resource such as attention. A hundred is the maximum mathematically achievable.’
‘I see.’ She did not look too happy at the correction.
‘And also, as a mammal, part of our attention will always have to be devoted to our survival instincts—our security, hunger, thirst, and so on. I would think that the real level any of us can give you is more likely to feature in the high seventies, and then only for short bursts.’
Kieran could feel Joe shaking with laughter beside him, hand covering his mouth. He enjoyed the small victory of bursting the bubble of their management-speak by deconstructing it in this way.
‘Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us.’ Namrata sounded like she was sucking on lemons. ‘I’ll expect seventy nine per cent from you then, Mr Literal-minded. The rest of you, I think you understand what I’m driving at.’
Heath popped back into the conversation. ‘Let’s crack on, shall we? A healthy body, guys, is part of the secret of success so we want all of you to take care to sleep well, eat well, and play well.’ He shook his hand, making a concealed bottle rattle. ‘We’ve got some vitamins here—again we’ve asked a nutritionist to advise us on a personally devised regime for each of you, engineered for teenage metabolisms. Take these now and we’ll give you the next dose with your breakfast.’
Joe raised a brow to Kieran. They had already agreed that they wouldn’t take anything suspect.
‘If those are just vitamins then I’m Santa Claus,’ murmured Kieran. He had considered the possibility that drugs to increase suggestibility might be involved. He was looking forward to analysing the pills.
The pair wittered on about their plans; Kieran listened only for the truth underlying the surface spin. He deduced that the students were going to be isolated from each other for most of the time but there was precious little detail on the actual content in the solo sessions.
‘And now I expect you are all anxious to get to your beds. Before you go, come and fetch your vitamins and the folder of your schedule.’ Heath pointed to a table where Namrata was laying out cups of water and little trays of drugs, one set on top of each folder.
‘Distraction?’ suggested Joe.
Kieran nodded.
Joe led the way, picked up his pills and shook them in Heath’s eyeline. ‘These mine?’
‘That’s right, Joe, healthy body!’ Heath pass
ed him a cup of water.
While Joe messed around, palming the pills as he pretended to toss them back with the water, Kieran made a less flamboyant grab for his. He turned his shoulder to Namrata, only wetting his lips and not drinking.
‘Everything all right with your schedule?’ she asked, coming too close. Her eyes were on his cup, not his file.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘We’re going to work on that literalness of yours, Kieran. You must realize that it gets in the way of normal relationships.’
Kieran thought of Raven, how she laughed when he went a little off track with his remarks. She enjoyed his logical flourishes. ‘I don’t think of it quite like that.’
‘Your godfather doesn’t share your view, but let’s see how you feel about this in a day or two, OK?’
Interesting. There was a huge emphasis on pleasing people whom the students should be eager to impress. After years of falling short of expectations, the course was promising instant repair of poor family relationships. It was a huge incentive to buckle under their pressure. It was good they didn’t know how far he’d go to please Raven; that was one gap in his armour he didn’t want exposed.
‘You want to make friends, don’t you? I have you down here as a social misfit, uneasy in large gatherings of your peers, always saying the wrong thing. No offence, but I think you demonstrated the truth of that tonight.’
‘Miss Varma?’ Kieran dug his hands in his jeans pockets, pushing the tablets deeper.
‘Yes?’
‘As you say, I take things more literally than they are meant, so please explain something to me.’
She foolishly took this as a sign that he was recognizing he had a problem. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Why is it that before someone says something insulting they tack on “no offence”? You were aware what you said was going to offend me so the phrase was a lie.’
She gave him a snake of a smile. ‘I see we have a lot of work to do, Kieran.’ She turned away to find a more tractable student.
Back in his room, Kieran left the reporting in to Joe as he quickly analysed the tablets with the tiny kit he had brought in his wash bag. Setting out a mini lab on the vanity unit, he only had the basics, but the preliminary results surprised him.
‘Joe, looks like I’ll have to change my name to Santa as these are vitamins—the usual cocktail: A, B3, C, D—I haven’t got time to test for everything but I can’t see that the pills have been adulterated in any way.’
No answer. He stuck his head round the door of the bathroom to find Joe fast asleep on his face, phone still clutched in his hand. He decided the results could wait for the morning.
‘Hey, my friend, time you went back to your room.’
Joe yawned. ‘Yeah. I’m tired. That was fun, wasn’t it?’
If you like baiting the brainwashers. ‘Need help finding your room?’
‘No, I’m good.’
Kieran offered him a hand and helped him to the exit. ‘Did you report in?’
‘Um, don’t think so.’ Joe rubbed his eyes. ‘Sorry. Dropped off to sleep the moment I lay down to do it.’
‘It’s OK—I’ll make the call. I’ll come by and get you in the morning in case you oversleep.’
‘Yeah. Appreciate it. I’m gonna sleep so well tonight.’ Joe stumbled off.
Kieran found Joe’s yawns catching. He splashed water on his face to wake up. They had been studying hard for the exams as well as working on their mission, not to mention the recent emotional upheaval, so both were running on fumes. He rang Isaac’s number.
‘Everything OK, Kieran?’
‘So far. We’re both here and had our orientation meeting. They handed out tablets and I got excited about the possibility of drugs, but it turns out they were just vitamins.’
‘Shame. Would have been a convenient piece of evidence. Other impressions?’
‘Sounds like a training course so far. Tutors plausible.’
‘Joe OK?’
‘Yes. He just went to bed. We’re both really whacked. Exams only ended today.’
Isaac chuckled. ‘I keep forgetting you have that stuff to do. Did they go OK?’
‘I believe so.’
‘From you that means you got an A. You are quite something, Kieran. Always surprising the hell out of me.’
Kieran walked to the window, looking out towards Westron Castle. It was out of sight but he could sense where Raven was like a compass pointing to the north. ‘Have you given my suggestion any thought?’
‘Working on it. But I must tell you I’m not convinced.’
‘I promise you it will work. You don’t know her.’
‘Let’s talk after this is over.’
‘That’s the kind of thing people say when they are going to say no.’
Isaac did not give an inch—not that Kieran expected him to. ‘Mission first, talk later. Keep in touch, OK?’
‘Of course. Either Joe or I will check in tomorrow.’
Kieran ended the call. His screen returned to the photo of Raven he had taken a few days ago and selected as his wallpaper. Was it too late to contact her? He decided on a text in case she was already asleep.
Everything OK here. I’m still the same old me. Miss you. See you at the prom if not before. Frog Prince.
Not the most eloquent message but it would have to do. He pressed send. His screen flashed up with a reply almost instantaneously.
Glad to hear you r OK. Missing you too. Thanks for the phone. It means so much. Love Raven. xx
Love. And two kisses so he would turn back to a prince. Kieran’s thumbs hovered as he wondered if he should send something a little more poetic, more charming. Joe would do that—flatter her with lyrics and clever little comments. But then she wouldn’t believe it was him if he started acting so out of character.
I wish I did charm but in the absence of that, I just want to say I think about you all the time.
There was a pause.
Even when you are employing that formidable brain of yours on working out the Theory of Everything? ; )
If the theory did not contain you somewhere in it then it would be useless to me. Goodnight.
Aw, thanks. Goodnight. P.S. You don’t do so bad in the charm department. I now have your texts as evidence.
Kieran went to sleep with a smile on his face.
Raven cradled the phone to her chest. Confused, that was how Kieran made her feel. In love and confused. Still, at least they were warm feelings, rather than the cold slice of hurt and loneliness she had experienced after the Gloria incident. What got at her most was that she didn’t know where the two of them were going. Kieran had promised a big revelation after the end of term, but what if he just disappeared on her? She had no home address for him, no way of preventing him walking out on her as easily as he had walked in. When she was with him, it felt like he fitted her, like a jigsaw piece slotting perfectly in place, but when he was away, all her old fears rushed back and she wondered if their relationship wasn’t going to be dumped back in the box and jiggled around, any emerging picture reduced to random fragments.
Some of her happy feelings fizzled out. Dad had walked out with his kit bag on his shoulder. Mom had gone with a suitcase in the car. Neither had been able to return. When good intentions met harsh reality, harsh reality won every time.
It came as no surprise when she drifted into the dream. Walking down a white corridor at Junior High, gun metal grey lockers either side. Everything bigger and longer than she remembered. Ahead she could see her parents, arm-in-arm, laughing with heads close together. If she could just run fast enough, maybe she’d catch up.
Dealer kid steps out in her path. Hey, girl.
She shakes her head. Ignore him. Step around.
Don’t turn your back on me. Do you a special deal if you do me one.
Not in this lifetime. Running now. But her parents are getting further away and she’s going nowhere, like running on a moving walkway in the wrong direction.
So not going there. But she has no power of speech, only this weird running without getting away. She looks down. Her foster brother, Jimmy Bolton, is lying on the floor, hands round her ankles, smug smile on his choirboy face. Warned you I’d get even.
She tries to shake him off but her parents are fading, stepping out of the doors at the end into bright, blinding daylight. Someone else is with them. Kieran? The footballers are getting closer, like she’s the opponent they’re about to tackle, or maybe the ball they’re going to kick. A ring of boys with pillowcase heads joins them.
Go away, Stone!
Water pours from the sprinklers. She throws her arms up to protect her head, knuckles crack on her headboard.
The real pain woke her from the imagined one. Heart thumping with the surge of adrenaline, she lay back on the pillow, nursing her hand. Far better to be awake and hurting than still stuck in that dumb dream. Ghosts of her past unleashed by fears in the present—yeah, she got it. She didn’t need a shrink to get her on his couch to explain that to her.
She took the phone from her bedside table and checked the time. 02:28. She scrolled through the last message from Kieran. He was OK. Not changed. She had his phone number even if she didn’t have his address; he couldn’t just vanish on her. She’d text him in the morning. For now, she would just have to trust him to look after himself.
Shaking off a mild headache, Kieran hurried down the stairs to wake Joe. He had overslept himself and there was only five minutes to go before breakfast.
No answer. Opening the door, Kieran found the room empty. The bed had been slept in but Joe must have done better at getting up than him. Then again, Joe hadn’t stayed up text-messaging his girlfriend.
The breakfast room was bathed in sunlight. Healthy food options were spread out on a long table—no bacon and eggs here. Kieran waved at Joe who was already digging in to his grapefruit. He grabbed a packet of muesli and a banana and went to find his place. Each student had a name tag by their seat, a little cup of vitamins by their name. He noticed his had two extra tablets than everyone else.
Storm and Stone Page 19
