Fracture ns-3

by C. J. Daugherty

  ‘You’re late, young lady. And I don’t like how you say “hello”.’

  ‘What? But I… I couldn’t find you. Didn’t you hear me calling?’ Her mood shifted without effort from anger to defensiveness. ‘I looked for you for ages. Nobody told me to come to the orchard, and’ – they were both staring at her as she finished lamely – ‘it’s dark.’

  At that, Mr Ellison began stacking his tools into a worn metal box. ‘No need to go hiring a lawyer, Miss Sheridan. Just try to be on time from now on. And bring a torch. It doesn’t get light until after six.’

  Allie refused to look at Carter but she knew he was trying not to smile.

  Embarrassed, and in a bid to change the subject, she pointed aggressively at Carter. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  Carter opened his mouth to reply but Mr Ellison cut him off. ‘Carter is going to be helping us out today for reasons that are… not entirely voluntary.’

  His eyes twinkled as he said it, and this time Carter failed to stop his guilty grin.

  Instantly, Allie’s hackles rose. So it’s funny when Carter gets detention, but I get treated like an axe murderer?

  The injustice rekindled her rage.

  ‘Awesome.’ Her tone was sullen. ‘So, are we just going to stand around chatting about how funny it is when Carter breaks The Rules, or is there something you want me to do?’

  Mr Ellison’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘I’d appreciate it if you kept a civil tone, Miss Sheridan.’

  She couldn’t remember him ever looking truly stern before. Tall and broad-shouldered, with warm brown eyes and skin the colour of burnished oak, the groundskeeper had always been kind to her.

  Normally she would have apologised and defused the situation but right now she was cold and bruised, every single one of her muscles hurt, she’d had that awful nightmare and nothing was fair.

  She glared at him in mute rebellion.

  When Allie didn’t respond, the groundskeeper spoke again, his tone signalling his disapproval. ‘I believe you’re right-handed, Allie?’

  Some part of her wanted to end this standoff and just answer him straight but she was sulking in earnest now. So instead she gave a dismissive shrug and crossed her arms.

  ‘Allie, come on…’ Carter said softly.

  She bit her lip hard to stop herself from telling him to just shut the hell up. Why wouldn’t he mind his own business?

  Evidently having decided she wasn’t going to speak, Mr Ellison reached into the pocket of his dungarees and pulled out a pair of well-used secateurs, small enough to fit easily in her hand, and held them out to her. He made no move to step towards her. She was going to have to walk over and take them.

  Allie’s arms stayed folded stubbornly. She didn’t want to give in. She wanted everyone to know how angry she was. How unfair everything was.

  But he’d report her to Isabelle. And then Lucinda would find out, and she’d told her she had to cooperate completely, so…

  She had no choice. With slow, resentful steps, she crossed the distance between them and reached for the clippers, trying to show him with her eyes how angry she was.

  When she started to pull away, though, he held on to the clippers.

  ‘I know you’re better than this, Allie,’ he said, not at all unkindly.

  Her first instinct was to tell him he didn’t know anything about her. Nobody did. But then, to her surprise, tears prickled the backs of her eyes. She didn’t want to say mean things to Mr Ellison. She knew she wasn’t in control of her actions right now. She was swinging wildly; hitting all the wrong people.

  She had to stop.

  Her rage dissipated, like a puff of breath in the cold air.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, needing him to accept her apology. Needing him to forgive her.

  His face softened. ‘I understand more than you know, Allie.’ The deep baritone rumble of his voice was comforting. ‘I’ve lost people. Good people. So has Carter. People we loved just as much as you loved Jo. We know how much it hurts. But we got through it and now you have to get through it, too.’

  Allie knew Carter’s parents died when he was only a child. And they were good friends with Mr Ellison. That must have been devastating. They must have felt as bad as she did now.

  She turned to look at Carter, but he’d dropped his gaze, as if Mr Ellison’s words had brought back painful memories.

  The tight strings that had seemed to bind her heart ever since that horrible night loosened, just a little.

  She was not the only one to go through this. And she shouldn’t punish them because of her own pain. All of them had lost someone.

  She nodded fiercely. ‘I’ll sort things out, Mr Ellison. I promise.’

  Perched high on a ladder, Allie trimmed twigs from the gnarled branches of the old apple tree as Mr Ellison had showed her, letting them fall through to the ground. From where she sat she could see the top of the school building – lights had just begun to come on in the dorm windows. Inside it would be warm and starting to smell of bacon and toast.

  At the thought, her empty stomach rumbled.

  She’d had to take off one glove to hold the clippers and she paused to blow warm life back into her frozen fingers. Below her she could see Carter dragging fallen branches into piles and raking leaves and twigs away from the base of the trees.

  Across the orchard, Mr Ellison was busy sawing fallen branches into firewood, so they were essentially alone.

  Amid the protection of the branches she watched Carter work, remembering what it was like to be close to him. She’d been his friend first – then his girlfriend. Now his… nothing.

  Since he’d got together with Jules they hardly spoke. She’d been stunned by how quickly he’d moved on, and he had just sort of avoided her. The air between them remained heavy with unspoken recrimination.

  Climbing down, she dragged the ladder around the tree to a new spot.

  Carter glanced up at her. ‘Do you need some help?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve got it.’

  With a shrug, he returned to his work.

  When she’d set up the ladder on the other side of the tree, she turned back to him and spoke quickly before she could change her mind.

  ‘Look. I’m sorry for… like, earlier. That wasn’t cool.’

  His rake stilled and he looked up at her, surprise leaving his face unguarded for a second.

  ‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I don’t blame you.’

  ‘To be honest,’ she looked down at her clippers, ‘I got spooked in the garden. Thought I heard something. But it was just you guys. So… I overreacted.’

  ‘No one could blame you for being on edge, Allie,’ he said. ‘I am, too. We all are. You have nothing to apologise for.’

  ‘Oh, I think I have a lot to apologise for.’

  Carter didn’t miss the wry tone in her tone and he looked at her searchingly. ‘Why’d you do it, Allie?’ he asked. ‘Why’d you leg it?’

  Leaning back against the ladder she glanced up at the lightening sky, remembering how she’d felt that day.

  ‘I felt like… like nothing happened,’ she said. ‘Like, Jo died and then everyone went back to business as usual except me. And I don’t want business as usual. Ever again.’

  He nodded to himself, biting his bottom lip. ‘Thing is,’ he said after a second, ‘nobody went back to business as usual, Allie.’

  She hadn’t expected that.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her brow creasing.

  ‘I mean, everything changed. I guess nobody told you because they knew you… needed space or whatever.’ He plucked a dead leaf from the tree, avoiding her gaze. ‘But we’ve been having loads of meetings about it. All Night School training has changed, too. They are looking for the spy – everyone’s completely paranoid about it. And Raj tracked Gabe and Nathaniel everywhere they’ve been.’ He shook his head and his gaze glanced off hers. ‘You know Raj is Batman, right?’

  ‘So wait.’ Allie needed
him to get back to the point. ‘Are you saying all this stuff has been happening but nobody told me?’

  Carter’s expression was hard to read. ‘Isabelle said you weren’t ready yet. You needed to grieve.’

  Allie’s jaw was so tight it was difficult to speak.

  ‘I’ve grieved enough,’ she said. ‘Now I’m ready to make Nathaniel pay.’

  NINE

  Allie’s classes went more smoothly that day – students paid less attention to her, and the lessons began to make a tiny amount of sense.

  In her free moments she thought about what Carter had told her. Why hadn’t Isabelle ever mentioned what they were doing? She tried to remember anything the headmistress had said about tracing Jo’s attacker, finding the spy. But all she could recall was being told not to worry about it. That it was under control.

  But as afternoon turned into evening, and evening into night, she grew increasingly jittery. She was about to find out for herself – her Night School training started that night.

  When she joined Rachel and Zoe in the library after dinner, nerves gnawed at her stomach and it was hard to focus on Rachel’s chemistry tutoring.

  ‘You’re not paying, like, a huge amount of attention,’ Rachel complained when Allie stumbled over the same problem for the third time.

  ‘Soz.’ Allie dropped her pencil with a sigh. ‘Maybe I just need to do something else for a while and come back to this. My brain is tired.’

  Across the table, though, Zoe gave a significant look. Allie glanced at her watch – it was nearly nine. Time to get ready.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, pushing back her chair, ‘I think I’m just knackered.’ She began gathering her books. ‘I guess I’ll have an early night and start fresh tomorrow.’

  Rachel gave a sympathetic nod. ‘Probably a good idea. You do look worn out.’

  ‘I have to go too.’ Zoe jumped to her feet. ‘I’m way ahead with my work, anyway.’

  As they hurried out, guilt nibbled away at Allie’s battered conscience. Lying to Rachel felt wrong. Their friendship was being re-forged link by link – deception made it seem more fragile.

  Outside the library door, Zoe stopped. ‘I’m going upstairs to drop my books first. Want to come?’

  But Allie just wanted to get on with it and she shook her head. ‘I’ll meet you down there.’

  After Zoe dashed up the stairs to the girls’ dorm, Allie made her way down the grand hallway, her heart in her throat. She could do this. She could go back to Night School and not screw it up this time.

  She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear footsteps. Turning a corner, she ran headlong into someone coming the other way. Their shoulders collided with a jarring thud that sent a quick sharp pain down Allie’s side.

  ‘Ouch. Bugger… I mean, sorry.’ Allie reeled back clutching her arm. Only then did she see who she’d crashed into.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’ Sylvain’s blue eyes surveyed her with concern.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said, flushing, although she wasn’t entirely certain that was true.

  When he saw the way she held her arm, his brow furrowed. ‘Merde. I did hurt you.’

  He reached for her shoulder as if he could fix her then thought better of it and dropped his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Allie. I was in a hurry – I didn’t see you.’

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ she mumbled. Looking up, she met his vivid gaze. ‘I don’t think you broke me.’

  ‘I can’t believe I was so clumsy. I’m just late for…’ He gestured down the hall to where the door leading down to the basement yawned open.

  ‘I’m going there too,’ Allie said.

  His eyes widened. ‘You’re back in it again? When did this happen?’

  She shrugged, as if Night School was no big deal. ‘It’s part of my punishment.’

  His eyes swept across her face – although he didn’t mention it, she got the feeling he was surprised she was talking to him. She’d been diligently avoiding him since the night of the winter ball.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him. She just hadn’t known what to say. Their kiss that night had been so epic – so intense. Just thinking about it made her heart flutter.

  But then Jo died. And the world changed overnight.

  That night she learned Nathaniel would kill the people she cared about. That night she’d decided to try not to care about anyone ever again.

  ‘It must be hard for you after everything that happened,’ he said. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But I have to do it. For her.’

  He nodded as if he’d expected nothing else. ‘I would do the same.’

  Her eyes darted up to his. ‘You would?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It’s the only way. You have to get strong and you have to fight. And win.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, meaning it. ‘That helps.’

  When he smiled it softened his sharp features, making him look boyish – less sophisticated. Sometimes he seemed so grown-up it was easy to forget he was only sixteen.

  Then he glanced at his watch and the smile faded.

  ‘We will both be late, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I have to run upstairs first.’

  ‘Of course,’ Allie said, taking a step away.

  ‘Allie…’

  She looked up at him enquiringly but he seemed to change his mind.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘See you down there.’

  He sped away with the smooth gait of a panther.

  Alone, Allie made her way downstairs. The once-familiar basement steps had never looked grimier or less inviting. And the walk down that dingy, narrow corridor had never seemed lonelier. She was relieved when she reached the girls’ dressing room.

  The big square space was mostly empty – only a handful of girls were getting ready, most already in their black Night School training gear.

  In one corner, she saw Nicole, still in her school uniform. As she flipped her long dark hair up into a ponytail, their eyes met. Nicole didn’t seem surprised to see her – or if she was, she hid it well.

  ‘So, are you ready to return to the meat grinder?’ Her French accent made ‘meat’ sound like ‘met’.

  ‘Is that what we’re calling it now?’ Allie forced a smile.

  ‘It is an appropriate name, n’est ce pas?’

  Nicole’s bitter tone perfectly reflected the way Allie felt. A bit brave. A bit angry.

  The two of them had only got to know each other at the end of last term but Allie had quickly started to like her. She was far too pretty – small and slim, with huge brown eyes – but she didn’t seem to be afraid of anything.

  ‘Good point.’ Allie walked over to a hook with ‘Sheridan’ stencilled above it in neat square letters. Hanging from it were black leggings, two snug-fitting long-sleeved tops – one for inside, one for outside – and a zip-up jacket. Stacked on the wooden bench below were sturdy waterproof running shoes, a black knitted hat and thermal gloves.

  She wondered if it had all been there the whole time she’d been out of Night School. Just waiting for her to come back.

  Rather than unbuttoning her white blouse, Allie pulled it off over her head – turning it inside out in the process. As she reached for the pullover, she saw Nicole’s eyes flicker across her scars, red against the white skin of her arms and torso. It was the first time anyone other than her doctors had seen what the accident did to her and, flushing, she hurried to pull the black top over her head.

  Noticing this, Nicole shook her head. ‘Don’t be ashamed of your scars.’ Startled, Allie glanced over at her. ‘Be proud of them. They are a symbol of your survival. Of your strength.’

  What bollocks, Allie thought, bristling. I’m not strong. I’m a failure.

  But as they finished changing in silence Nicole’s words stayed with her. After all, she was alive, wasn’t she? She’d taken on two guys twice her size, and she’d won.

  The scars were proof of that.

  When
she changed into her leggings, she didn’t try to hide the ugly red mark on her left knee.

  Nicole waited for Allie to finish; they walked together into the training room where several dozen Night School students stretched and chatted on the blue exercise matting. When those near the door noticed Allie, they fell silent.

  Feeling exposed, she looked around for familiar faces. Jules and Carter stood on the far side of the room with Lucas. Carter had his back to her but Jules nudged him and he turned to see. Their eyes met. He gave her a polite nod and then turned back to his conversation.

  Looking at the back of his head, she swallowed hard, angry with herself.

  What had she expected? For him to run over and hug her? Welcome her back to Night School?

  Still, after their conversation this morning she’d hoped for more than this and it hurt a little. The pain was quick and sharp – an emotional bee sting – and colour crept up her cheeks.

  Turning to Nicole, she scrambled to think of something, anything, to say so everyone would know she didn’t care one bit.

  ‘So… how are you?’ was all she could come up with.

  I hate my own brain, she thought, anguished.

  Nicole, though, missed nothing. ‘Fabulous, darling,’ she said with a delighted, musical laugh, as if Allie had said something clever and hilarious. ‘Should we go over here?’

  She tilted her head away from Jules and Carter.

  ‘God yes.’ Allie couldn’t keep the relief from her voice.

  As they sped across the room, someone called her name. Slowing, Allie turned to see Eloise walking towards them, a cheerful smile brightening her face.

  Allie felt better instantly. The librarian was one of her favourite Night School instructors. Young and vivacious, she had always been someone Allie felt she could trust.

  ‘Welcome back to Night School,’ Eloise said, draping an arm across her shoulders. Then she lowered her voice. ‘Are you ready for this?’

  It was clearly the question of the night.

  ‘I guess so,’ Allie said. ‘I mean… I hope so.’