Fracture

been forced to back down.

When she asked Isabelle about it, though, the headmistress just shook her head. ‘He’s letting us get comfortable. Hoping we drop our guard.’

After the Night School instructors returned to the school, the group met less often. Raj and Isabelle had ordered them to stop looking for the spy and, under the circumstances, they had little choice – the teachers watched them like hawks. Now there was nothing for them to do but wait. Jules and Lucas began joining them for meals again and conversations about lessons replaced Nathaniel and spies.

It was a kind of false normality and Allie hated it. It felt like they were all pretending something awful wasn’t about to happen. But what else could they do?

She found she missed the adrenaline rush of meeting in secret out of hours, of sneaking into locked rooms and searching for evidence. She missed the feeling of actually doing something. They were back on the outside of things again. On some level, maybe they always had been but, at least for a while, it had felt like they’d had some control.

Without the daily gatherings, she found it easy to keep her distance from Sylvain. And she wanted to do that. She needed time to think about things.

Every so often, though, she’d look up and find him watching her from across a room, a lost look in his bluer than blue eyes. And her heart would twist inside her.

Each time it happened she remembered what he’d said: ‘I won’t wait for ever… It hurts too much…’

Sometimes, when he made no effort to pursue her, or he didn’t laugh at one of her jokes, she’d worry he’d decided not to wait any more and panic would unfurl in her chest unexpectedly, making her heart stutter.

He just… had to wait. Just until this thing with Nathaniel was finished. After that…

For his part, Carter never returned to the walled garden. Allie had suspected he wouldn’t after their talk, but she still felt bereft that first sunrise when he didn’t appear.

Still, though, at least they were getting along better. He treated her like a normal friend – not a good friend – but a friend, nonetheless.

Baby steps, she told herself.

The weirdest development was she was starting to like gardening. She remembered something Jo had told her once about falling in love with the gardens after she’d been given weeks of detention. At the time Allie hadn’t understood but now she could see what Jo meant. There was something therapeutic about the smell of damp earth; about dropping seeds into it and covering them up. It was calming.

It helped that the cold was less biting now. March had arrived in the midst of all this and green shoots appeared everywhere, all at once, as if someone somewhere had pressed a button marked ‘Grow’. The neat, straight furrows she and Carter had made that morning in the rain were already lined with tiny green plants that would someday be carrots, cabbages and potatoes. Looking at them, she felt a sense of accomplishment – she’d helped to create that.

Mr Ellison had become less fierce once he and Allie were alone again, as if he felt sorry for her. Most days, he brought out a thermos of hot sweet tea and packets of biscuits, and they’d take a break, sitting on a bench, munching the biscuits and watching the birds work. They talked about a lot of things then – about his childhood in London, and how he came to Cimmeria to escape the city. He never told her the story Carter had told, about making a mistake and losing everything, and Allie didn’t ask. But she found herself telling him things she wouldn’t have wanted to tell anyone else. How she and her mum couldn’t talk any more. How she missed her dad. There was something about him – a kind of thoughtfulness and wisdom – that made her feel she could really talk to him. He’d made mistakes in his life, too. And so he, perhaps alone among the adults she knew, was unlikely to judge her.

Lately, Allie had been having long talks with Isabelle, too. After Lucinda’s visit she’d plied her with questions about Orion and Nathaniel and Gabe.

It was Isabelle who told her about the other secret groups like Orion elsewhere in the world. That the one in Europe was called Demeter. The one in America, Prometheus. That Orion was the oldest but no longer the biggest or most powerful.

The headmistress also told her more about Nathaniel’s plan. As they sat in her office one Friday after the day’s classes ended, Allie asked her about Nathaniel.

‘What does he really want?’ she said. ‘I mean, I know he only wants me to get back at Lucinda. And I know he hates you because of the inheritance. But why is he really doing this?’

As if she’d felt a sudden chill, Isabelle pulled her navy cardigan off the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. Under it she wore a white polo-neck top and slim, grey trousers. There was no way you would look at her and think she was organising a fight – preparing for an attack. She just looked like a teacher.

‘For the last few years, Nathaniel has travelled the world seeking support for his plan to overthrow Lucinda and take full control of Orion,’ Isabelle explained. ‘Some of the reason is personal, as you know, but some of it is pure hunger for power and wealth. To be richer than his father ever was. Better. On his own, he hasn’t got enough support within the organisation to do it so he’s looking for international backers. He visited Demeter in Zurich in January and I’m told they sent him packing.’ Her gaze hardened. ‘But I fear he received a warmer reception from Prometheus.’

‘America?’ Allie blinked. ‘Why would they listen to him? He’s crazy.’

‘They’re not really listening to him,’ Isabelle said. ‘They want to use him. You see, there are people in Prometheus who have been arguing for precisely what Nathaniel is offering for many years. They see in him a potential ally. With Britain on their side that would tip the balance. They could have what they’ve always wanted – more control, more power. Unimaginable wealth. The return of the oligarchs. An end, I fear, to the modern experiment with democracy.

‘If they can rid themselves of the shackles of laws designed to protect people… just think of the money they could make. They would be kings.’

Allie looked at her doubtfully. ‘But that’s bonkers. Surely there’s no way it would happen. People wouldn’t accept it.’

Isabelle’s expression held an odd mix of cynicism and melancholy. ‘People wouldn’t even notice,’ she said.

‘Of course they’d notice – everything would change.’

‘Yes, things would change. But not obviously,’ Isabelle said. ‘And most people aren’t paying attention. They’ve got jobs and children, mortgage payments and problems… they don’t have time to notice little changes in the law that don’t seem to affect them anyway. Look at what Orion’s accomplished already – it has infiltrated every major branch of British leadership from the government to the media to the courts. It has never overtly tampered with an election as far as I know, but it could if it wanted to. And if it did, no one would ever find out.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘Because Orion controls the organisation that monitors elections.’

Allie stared at her open-mouthed.

‘Are you saying Nathaniel could actually do what he wants to do? He could –’ she didn’t even know the word for what he wanted to do – ‘take over?’

‘I’m afraid he could,’ Isabelle said. ‘That’s why this matters so much. That’s why people have died. Because what’s at stake is everything.’

With so little action, Allie had no choice but to catch up on her school work. Every afternoon she and Rachel could be found in the library studying at Rachel’s favourite tucked-away table, sitting in soft leather chairs in the glow of the green-shaded desk lamp. Just like the old days.

One Wednesday, nearly two weeks after the instructors first returned, Rachel was tutoring Allie in chemistry. It was late afternoon and Allie was thinking very strongly about going to the kitchen in search of a snack.

‘I think you missed part of that molecule.’ Rachel pointed at the diagram in Allie’s notebook. ‘There should be another bit. Like this.’ Sliding her textbook over, she showed Allie how the design should look. ‘Otherwise you’ll end up with, I don’t know, a badger molecule.’

Drawing the new section, Allie didn’t look up as she replied. ‘A badger molecule?’

‘You know how badgers kind of look like someone dropped some of their molecules and then accidentally added parts of something else’s molecules? That’s what I mean.’