“Morning, sunshine,” Owen called, as soon as I opened the door. He was sitting at the dining table, coffee mug in hand with a newspaper spread out in front of him. “Kettle’s hot.” He didn’t look up from the paper.
“Thanks. Anything interesting?” I had never been overly interested in the news. Whenever I picked up a paper it seemed to spell more doom and gloom across the world. I dug out some tea bags and poured the hot water into a pot.
“Fire and brimstone.” He flipped the paper closed and held it up for me to see the headline. “This one was quite close to Bree’s neck of the woods. Second one in a month and wait ‘till you see page five.”
I took the paper from him and scanned the headline. Another bomb, this time in Llandudno. I thought back to the bomb my Dad mentioned a few weeks back. Bournemouth and Llandudno weren’t the usual places to be targeted.
“What’s with the bombs? Do they know who’s set them?” I asked, even though I was holding the paper.
“No, not so far. It says nobody’s claimed responsibility. Bit odd though, isn’t it?” He gulped the last of his coffee and held his cup up toward me. “I’ll have some of that if it’s going.”
I grabbed his cup and poured him a tea. “What’s odd?”
“Well, why those places? What makes a seaside holiday destination a target for bombs?”
“High casualty rate?” I sat in the seat beside him and put the paper back on the table.
“Nah, it’s not the right season. This time of year it’s just locals. You should know that.” He took a sip of his tea and winked at me in approval.
He was right. My seaside village was almost deserted out of season. We occasionally had visitors on weekend trips, but they were few and far between. Most of the shops didn’t even open during the true winter months.
I threw down the paper and was about to stand up when Owen held up his hand, fingers spread.
“Page five.”
I opened it flat on the table, flicking through to find the page. Nothing stood out. A simple article about a heroic dog, complete with a picture of it slobbering over its owner.
“Give me a clue?”
“The new legislation. Right there, how can you miss it?”
I read through the next article, fighting to finish through sheer boredom. “They’re giving more power to the police to look for evidence during investigations? That’s good.”
“Bloody hell, Roz. Thought you were here to do the intelligence and stuff?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Owen shook his head, grinning. “Look at what it actually says, not how it says it. The government have lowered the level of privacy. They have given the authorities further permission to obtain evidence through online activity and history. You see what that means?”
I shook my head. “They can get the bad guys quicker?”
“It means, we’re now legally overheard, recorded and watched by big brother. We’re now without the defence of privacy or freedom of speech.” He held his cup up in cheers, grinning.
“So, why do you look so happy?”
“Why? Because it’s brilliant. Now, every time I get caught hacking into their systems, I can point to this new legislation.”
“I don’t think it’s there to give you permission. And, where do you get caught?”
“Government files, they have an embarrassingly pathetic firewall.”
“You hack into them? What for?”
He shrugged in response, still grinning.
“Owen, I really don’t think they put this legislation through to make it easier for you.”
“Maybe not, but that shady grey area just got a whole lot bigger.”
The two of us jumped as we heard a crash on the stairs.
“I’m ok,” Shouted Bree. She slammed open the kitchen door and sank into the chair beside mine. “If I have to spend another night like that…” She slumped her head into her hands on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Owen and I asked in unison.
“That fecking Warwick. All night. All flippin’ night he was at it. Right against my wall.” She banged her head against her hands which were laid flat on the table. “Creak creak, creak creak. All fecking night! He was either sleeping in a rocking chair or… I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Or what?” Owen laughed.
I poured her some tea and placed it in front of her. “Didn’t you knock to tell him to keep it down?”
“Did I hell. What if he came to the door all greased up and ready for action? No way am I wanting to see that.” She sniffed the tea and took a sip. “Any whiskey?”
“In tea?”
“Sure, why not. Need something to keep me awake today.”
The kitchen door opened, knocking the back of Bree’s chair. “Did someone just fall down the stairs?” Karissa asked, as she and Fern took seats at the table.
Bree raised her hand, then dropped it back to the table with a thud. “That’d be me. May have had a little too much last night.”
“We weren’t drinking last night.” I said.
Karissa sat in the seat beside Owen. “You’d already gone to bed. Sometime during the night Warwick pulled out a bottle of… something. Don’t remember much after that.”
“When was this?” Owen asked.
“Some time ‘round two in the morning.” Karissa laughed.
“I wasn’t drinking for that long. I was in bed before you two.” Bree said, prodding Karissa in the shoulder.
Karissa let out her now familiar laugh. “Yeah, that Warwick sure knows how to show a girl a good time.” The table fell silent, all eyes turned to Karissa.
“Oh, dear God I feel sick,” Bree shouted, “was that you? You were in his room last night?”
“How do you know?”
“Because his room’s right next to mine and I heard nothing but his bed squeaking all fecking night.”
Karissa slammed her hands over her mouth, erupting in muffed laughter. “Sorry, Bree.”
Owen shoved her playfully. “Bloody hell woman, we’ve only been here one night. How did you hook up that fast?” He turned to me without listening to her answer, rolling his eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
The sociology room was in one of the castle elements of the campus. The interior had been plastered and polished, but it still had the chill of a wide open stone room. I found a table close to the window and sat myself quickly, claiming my space. Most people seemed to be coming in alone, searching for a free table just like I had. By the time we were all seated, we each had a double desk to ourselves. I was surprised to not see Karissa here, knowing that she was chosen for the same area as me: intelligence.
I pulled out a pen and a pad of paper and waited. The students around the room began to shift and eventually whisper to one another.
The girl behind me tapped my shoulder. “Do you think we got the wrong building?” She asked, softly, keeping her voice too low for others to hear. I shrugged with a smile.
I was sure we were in the right place. The tutor was late.
I patiently watched the seconds on the clock tick by. We had been sat, waiting without word, for twenty minutes. I was drifting into a bored stupor when a blonde girl jumped to her feet dramatically, making me jump. It was the girl from the dining room. I didn’t know what it was about her, but something about her confident attitude unnerved me.
“Well, I’m going to go see what’s going on.” She announced to the room.
She made a show of weaving her way through the desks, playing with her silver blonde hair as she moved. She opened the door and gasped as the tutor entered.
“Twenty three minutes and forty six seconds.” The tutor dropped a stack of papers on his desk with a loud thud.
The girl ran back to her desk and cowered in her seat. He turned to look at the class with arms crossed.
“Let me ask each of you a question. Did you think sitting here all that time was time well spent? What have you gotten out o
f this class so far?”
We sat in silence. Not one of us had done anything but sit here. What were we supposed to be getting out of this class?
“You, what is your name?” He pointed to the blonde.
“Spring Arrandale.” Her voice carried across the room melodically.
“Tell me, Spring. Why did you feel the need to leave your designated classroom right now?”
I watched her sink back further in her chair. “I just, thought you were taking a long time, Sir. I was checking everything was alright.”
He chuckled gently. “Please, not Sir. I am Dr Wang.” He sat on the edge of his desk and looked to the rest of us. “Why did you all sit for so long in a room doing nothing?”
No one replied.
“Was it because you thought you should? It was what everyone else was doing? Was it because this is a class room, you are students, therefore you were merely playing a role?”
He watched us like we were prey. Closing in on the weakest.
“You.” He pointed directly at me.
“I don’t know,” my voice shook embarrassingly, “I guess, I was just waiting to be told what to do.” I could see Spring sniggering at me from across the room.
“You wanted to be told what to do.” He said slowly. “An honest answer. An answer that would be the same for the majority of the country. We want to be told what to do.” He picked up the stack of papers and began placing one on each table. “Today, I would like you to think about what it is, to be told what to do. When is it acceptable to follow the crowd and when should you follow your own feet? Like Spring here has just shown, a little independent thought goes a long way.”
He threw down the wad of paper to my desk. I opened it to humiliation. The opening section was titled: Obedience. I read through the first page. It described the typical behaviour of a classroom environment, specifically the social behaviour of a class room without the lead of a tutor.
He had set it up. He wanted to see how we would react being left in a room with no instructions. My heart sank.
I had failed the first task.
* * *
By the end of the week I just wanted to curl up in my room. The majority of my time had been spent in the lecture theatre with Doctor Wang. It seemed the aim of the university was to bombard us with an unimaginable amount of information the moment we arrived, regardless of our understanding. I clung to the faint glimmer of hope that I had managed to fair a little better than I had in the first lesson. Wang had informed us that during our education with the Consummate, we would be constantly tested. Many of these tests would be traditional paper questions. However, many others would be unannounced and physical, with no time to prepare. For the past week I had tried to keep this in mind. I had been sure to think for myself, keep a watchful eye and basically had become a ticking time bomb of nerves.
Friday evening had finally arrived. I had spent the day analysing video footage of countless public scenes. Our task had been to deduce and recognise who worked in what kind of job, and what kind of person they were, just from reading their body language. It was a surprisingly entertaining exercise, but one that left me with severe eye ache.
After trudging my way through the pouring rain and getting lost, I pushed open the front door to house G. I slung my bag at the foot of the stairs as I walked into the living room ready to collapse with a coffee.
I stumbled to a sudden halt in the doorway. There on the settee, was a mass of arms and legs. With only half of his arse covered by his jeans, I saw Warwick as I had never intended to see him. Thrusting and grunting, he gyrated as the brunette below him giggled in ecstasy. A rush of anger, humiliation and nausea forced its way through my body. Turning on my heel, I grabbed my bag and slammed the front door behind me. I gulped, but continued to flee as the glass pane vibrated and cracked.
I wandered the campus for half an hour. My arms wrapped around my chest tightly in an effort to fight off the biting cold. I thought about returning to the house for a jacket, but the thought of walking in on that again turned my stomach.
Although I was furious with Warwick for claiming the settee, I had to admit, it was good to get out and find my bearings. I had been here for just over a week, but still hadn’t ventured far off the direct path to Wang’s lecture room. Now that I was exploring, I found a little shop which stocked simple student needs like paper and chocolate. This was a welcome find as the emergency supply Mum had packed was almost gone. There were a number of social areas which looked to hold film nights, sports matches and club nights. I made a mental note to try to attend one of these events. At some point. I needed to do more than just drink coffee with Owen and go to lectures. I stopped in the centre of the path as a guy jogged passed me with a huge St Bernard dog. It was adorable. It looked to be a meter tall. Its huge paws pounded the grass as it easily kept ahead of its owner. A trail of saliva spattered the grass as the dog’s lolling tongue flopped with every pounce.
“You lost?” The man called. He came to a halt just passed me and pulled on the dog’s lead to bring him about.
I drew my eyes away from his gorgeous dog and immediately regretted what I was wearing and lack of makeup. My eyes opened wide as I slowly drank in the sight of his scruffed jet black hair and tight white t-shirt. His chest rose and fell deeply as he caught his breath; which was misting in the cold air. He looked like a magazine centrefold.
I resisted the urge to pull my cardigan into a more flattering position. “Lost? No, just getting my bearings. It’s a big place here, isn’t it?” I internally scolded myself for sounding so… lost.
He laughed and gently pulled his dog back to heel. “Och, it can be a wee bit dauntin’ at first. What you studyin’?”
I took me a moment to stop watching his lips move and realise he was asking me a question. “Studying? Oh, I’m in sociology.”
“Mole, eh? What d’ya think of it ‘ere so far?”
“Getting there,” I said, not knowing myself how much I liked it yet. “What are you doing?”
“I’m ‘ere to finish my doctorate. Over in the labs over there, with Doc Levins.” He pointed behind one of the tower blocks, toward a row of modern buildings. “So, you just wanderin’ now? You fancy…”
“Mark!” A girl ran over from our left and marched up to the man and his dog. She glanced to me and shook her head with a pitying smile. “Don’t fall for anything he says. He’s nothing but a cheating bastard.”
Her face changed as she turned to him. He flashed a grin, but his words were lost as she pulled back her fist and punched him hard in the face. He staggered back, letting go of the dog’s lead.
“You even try to speak to me outside the lab, you prick, and I’ll hit you with more than my fist.” Without giving him the chance to reply, she retreated back to where she came from.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, bending over him to see if he was alright.
“Crazy Lassie, that’s all.” He rubbed his cheek and laughed. “One night in town an’ she won’t leave me be.” He twisted on the spot, looking around. “Och crap, my dog’s gone an’ bolted. See you next time.” He ran after the Saint Bernard, which looked to be happily pouncing to freedom. I stood and watched as they rounded the corner, Mark shouting after the fleeing animal.
I continued along the path, with my arms wrapped back around my chest. The cold was beginning to sting my fingertips. I desperately wanted to retreat back to my warm room and kettle, but what if Warwick was still at it? The memory of his bare arse flooded into my mind and I shuddered, ploughing ahead to escape the image. I could stay out a little longer.
Finally I found just what I needed. The student bar. From outside it already sounded busy. The windows were masked by condensation, sending silhouettes of students trailing on the shadowed glass. I pushed through the door to a wall of backs. Everyone in the pub seemed to be circled round something, chanting and cheering drunkenly. I manoeuvred around them and ordered a beer at the bar. It felt strange to be out drinking.
Back home I was usually lumbered with the designated driver job. I stood with my drink, leaning back on the bar. The mass of people wasn’t thinning. They seemed to all cheer as one, then hold their breath, then cheer again. I watched the commotion for a while before my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to nudge my way through to see.
It wasn’t too difficult to squeeze through two rugby player sized guys. My head barely reached their shoulders. When I got to the front, my jaw dropped. Sat at a two-seater table was Bree. Opposite her was a huge guy, similar to the ones I had just pushed through. With a flash of his smile I recognised him from the lecture theatre. He was the guy who said ‘Hi’. In front of them were countless shot glasses and an empty bottle of tequila. A third guy with floppy jet black hair, was pouring each of them a new glass as they lowered their last. Bree’s cheeks were shocking pink. Sweat was pouring from her forehead. I watched as her trembling fingers clasped the tiny glass. The clear liquid was spilling over the sides as she tried to lift it to her lips. She knocked it back, her body shuddering with the onslaught. The crowd erupted in cheers as she slammed the glass back to the table.
“Had enough?” The guy with the black hair asked. He held the bottle out, ready to pour the next glass.
“Like hell,” Bree spat, swaying in her seat. She grabbed the glass bottle with both hands and gulped back the transparent spirit. Her body trembled violently as she audibly forced the liquid down. The crowd cheered, shaking her shoulders encouragingly.
I bent down beside her chair, prising the bottle from her hand. “Bree, what are you doing?”
Her head swung in an arc, her eyes swaying to focus on my face. She grinned at me drunkenly.
“Rozzz! Hey, this here’s my friend, Roz. Where you been?” She slung her arm around my shoulder, slurring each word.
“Bree, maybe we should go sit down over there?”
The crowd erupted in jeers.
“What? No chance. I bet Ash here that I could drink him under the table. And he’s getting under that damn table.”
Trials in Walls of Ivy (Triskelion Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
