Monster (7 page)

M
atron wasted no time in doling out holiday chores to the unhappy band of sisters in the main hall before supper.

‘Dianna, yard duty, entrance hall and breakfast washing-up—’

‘But I’m—’

‘No buts. Natasha, dog walking, common room and litter.’

‘Yes, Matron.’

‘But, Matron—’ Dianna persisted.

Matron wasn’t listening. ‘Margaret. Margaret?’

I put up my hand. ‘She’s in the Chill … the basement, Matron, finishing off her detention. Orders from Mrs Saul-Hudson just before she left.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Well, Margaret will be on kitchen
laundry, dorms and lunchtime washing-up. I’ll inform her when I go down to let her out.’

Dianna looked like she had a bonnet full of bees. ‘But Matron, I’m Head—’

‘If you say “But I’m Head Girl, I shouldn’t have to do chores,” Dianna, I shall give you
extra
chores to do. Understood?’

Dianna shut up. My heart gave a little leap of delight. I loved it when she got owned by a member of staff.

Regan appeared behind us on the stairs. A shudder ran through me. I hadn’t even noticed her arrive.

‘Regan, good of you to join us. You’re on bedroom laundry, corridors and Hall.’

‘Yes, Matron.’ She nodded meekly.

‘Tabitha, bathroom, evening washing-up and morning post duty. And sit on your own bottom, please. You are not a baby.’

‘Yes, Matron,’ Tabitha squeaked. She had been sitting on my lap, but she quickly slid off onto the stairs.

‘And Clarice Hoon, dining room, kitchen and Music room.’

Clarice checked the huge pink plastic watch on her wrist. She now had no plasters on her face, but all her Nash-inflicted bruises and thumps had been plastered with concealer. ‘Yeah, all right.’

‘Yes, Matron.’

‘Yes, Matron. Ooh, and Matron?’

Matron snapped her head round like a snake, glaring at Clarice. ‘What?’

‘Can we have our phones back? Now it’s Christmas hols, I want to call my boyfriend.’

‘You may not have your phones back until your parents arrive.’

‘What?’ Clarice cried. ‘Why?’

‘Because,’ said Matron, ‘I am under strict instructions from Mrs Saul-Hudson that owing to certain pupils flouting phone privileges, no girl is allowed their phone back until they go home.’

We all knew this meant Maggie and her secret science lesson Snapchats to some boy back in her home town. This knowledge didn’t take the sting out of it though. All pupils, both day girls and boarders, had to post their phones in a locked box outside the staffroom every single morning and were allowed them back every night when they went home or after Prep if they were boarders. Woe betide any Bathory girl who smuggled their phone into class and it went off. It was instant detention or, at the very least, five Blue Tickets for their house.

‘But my parents don’t get back from Australia until Boxing Day at least. What about emails? Twitter? Facebook?’

‘This doesn’t automatically become a youth hostel once the term ends. You are all still at school. You will continue to use the main public phone at the front of school for phone calls to relatives. You have Margaret Zappa to thank for your absence of phone and internet so take it up with her. The passcode needed to unlock the router is right here,’ she said, tapping the side of her own head, ‘so don’t get any ideas about hacking in to it because that would be impossible.’

‘And internet?
So unfair!’

‘This is not a hotel, Clarice. Whilst you are here, you will be expected to attend breakfast, lunch, dinner and Prep and to take part in quiet prayers at the Chapel on a Sunday morning. At all times, you are to wear your uniforms. And
wash that make-up off your face. Unless you’re auditioning for the circus, I see no reason to wear it. You’re not impressing anyone here.’

I swallowed the snigger I desperately wanted to emit. I could see Dianna straining not to smile too.

‘No internet?’ said Clarice, flicking her violent red hair in Regan’s face before it fell to her shoulder and sat there shimmering like a fat red snake. ‘What are we supposed to do instead?’

Matron sighed. ‘When we can trust Bathory girls not to order unsuitable items, download distasteful imagery or Google how to make incendiary devices, your privileges may be returned. But until then there remains, as I said, no internet.’

‘But my boyfriend might need to get hold of me. I do have a boyfriend, and a social life, unlike other people, and they both need attention.’

‘Do you want to mention your boyfriend any more times, Clarice?’ said Dianna.

‘Lesbian,’ Clarice muttered, before shutting up completely and leaning sullenly against the banisters.

‘Do you have a spinal issue, Clarice?’ sighed Matron.

‘No, Matron,’ she grunted.

‘Then will you please use the bones God has given you and stand up straight.’

I wanted to high-five Matron right there. Seb used to have a girlfriend like Clarice: all lipstick and hair straighteners and me me me. She hated me too—always commenting on my lack of boobs, my lack of style and not having a boyfriend. I constantly wanted to slap her around the gills too.

‘You may all continue to make your one ten minute phone call per evening, after Prep, using the payphone outside the
Head’s office. Phone cards can be purchased at Bathory Basics in the village. You can go down there tomorrow after lunch. Being here is still a privilege and you may not run amok.’

Run amok?
I thought. Far be it from me to agree with Clarice, but asking for our phones back was hardly amok-inducing. Unless she thought we were going to arrange bunga bunga parties or heroin drops.

Clarice had a face like a smacked butt cheek. I was the one who really needed a phone. But maybe I didn’t really want to hear. No news was good news.

It was as though Matron had read my mind. ‘Natasha, you may have ten minutes’ phone privilege after breakfast each day as well if you wish.’

‘Thank you, Matron.’

‘Why her?’ scoffed Clarice. ‘We’re all missing home, you know. Also, shouldn’t you be keeping
her
away from me, given what she did to my face? Shouldn’t I get some sort of restraining order?’

Matron walked up to Clarice. ‘I am under no further instruction from Mrs Saul-Hudson to punish Natasha for what she may or may not have done to you—’

‘May or may not have done? She punched—’

‘And when your brother’s missing, you may also have extra phone privileges. Now I’ll hear no more about it.’

Even that didn’t stop Clarice. Now she’d pushed past Regan and was right in Matron’s face.

‘What now?’ Matron glared at her.

‘Day trips.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘When some of us were stuck here for a few days in summer, Mr Saul-Hudson took us to the beach at Gunness-on-Sea.
We went shopping and had McDonald’s on the way back. What are you going to do about day trips?’

Matron gently but firmly pushed Clarice backwards, as though her smell was offensive. ‘And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?’

Clarice shrugged. ‘I dunno. Just some days out. Christmas shopping and stuff.’

‘And stuff and stuff,’
Matron mimicked. Tabitha looked at me and smiled. ‘And how were you planning on our getting to and from this
stuff
, Clarice?’

‘Bus?’ she suggested.

We knew there were no bus drivers working over Christmas, and Matron couldn’t drive. Clarice stopped talking. I think even she realised it was futile by this stage.

‘You should count yourselves lucky you’re allowed to stay here for however long your parents have deemed fit. I cook your meals, I lock you in and I report anything suspicious to the Saul-Hudsons. That is that. As for entertainment, you make your own. You will all use the prefects’ common room for recreation, to save making the other common areas untidy, and unless you have any relatives willing to spend the day with you, this school will be your whole world until your mother’s car rolls up that drive. Do I make myself clear?’

Clarice nodded, sulkily accepting she wasn’t going to get the lifeblood that was internet access out of the stone that was Matron, as the woman turned on her polished black heel and left, her key bunch jangling on her hip.

‘Such a troll,’ Clarice muttered.

Dianna threw her a look, but didn’t say anything.

So that was us for the foreseeable—me, Maggie, Dianna, Regan, Clarice and a six-year-old Pup whom Maggie had
decided we should call Tabby, her full name being ‘way too long to be arsed with’.

As Matron left us on the hallway stairs to go and let Maggie out of the Chiller after her hour’s penance, Dianna Pfaff sidled up to me. I was uncertain of the intention but got the distinct impression that a favour was about to be asked.

‘Listen, do you want to swap chores with me? She’s given me yard duty, entrance hall and breakfast washing-up.’

‘That’s not so bad. Maggie’s got the really bum chores—kitchen laundry, washing-up
and
dorms.’

‘I know, but I was only on yard duty a week ago. Could I swap you yard and entrance hall for Brody and outside litter?’

‘Why do you want to do those?’ I said. ‘Brody pulls hard on the lead and does about three craps every time and outside litter is never-ending.’

‘I know, but I don’t mind. Tell you what, I’ll do both and you just do one of mine.’

‘Matron’ll know we’ve swapped. I don’t think she’ll allow it.’

‘She wouldn’t have to know. I won’t say anything. Please?’

I stopped and looked at her. ‘You wouldn’t be breaking a rule, would you, Head Girl?’

‘Please, Nash.’

She seemed desperate. It flashed across my mind that the reason she wanted the outdoor duties was to do with her covert visit to the woods and that big white bag. ‘Sorry, Dianna,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to incur Matron’s wrath, not since the extra phone allowance.’

Dianna nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘If there was something you wanted to do outside, I could cover for you …’

‘No, I didn’t want to do anything in particular,’ she said. ‘It was just for the fresh air.’

‘You’ll get fresh air on yard duty.’

‘Just forget I mentioned it. You’re probably better off with Brody anyway. He likes you.’ She did a kind of awkward giggle thing and started up the stairs towards the dorms, her cheeks just beginning to turn a darker shade of pink.

I heard from my dad again that night. He and Mum were holed up in some grotty, boiling hot Colombian motel with no air conditioning, twenty miles from where Seb was last seen. I listened to him in a darkened corridor in a freezing cold school in the middle of nowhere.

‘Nashy?’

‘Hi, Dad. How are you?’

There was about a three-second delay on the line and lots of crackling. ‘Hi, sweetheart, we’re fine. There’s been a development, honey. We’re just trying to …’

‘What?’

‘… Seb … walking … backpack … he fell.’

‘What? Dad, I can’t hear you, the line’s gone funny.’

‘… ash … ash … hear me?’

‘DAD? Dad, for God’s sake I can’t hear you, what’s happened?’

I was frantic. The only words I could make out clearly were ‘backpack’ and ‘fell’. He was dead. I knew he was dead.

And then his voice came back to me, clearer than before.

‘NASH?’

‘Dad?’

‘There you are, I think we’re back now. Did you hear what I said?’

‘No.’ I didn’t dare breathe out. It hurt too much.

‘One of Seb’s party, Joe, has been found. He flagged down … bus … to the town. He’d gone to get help for their friend Mike who had fallen down a gorilla trap in the jungle. When Joe came back with some rangers a day later, Seb and Mike … gone. They found Seb’s backpack … and there was a rope … trap.’

‘So what does that mean?’

‘Well, it means that, until two days ago, they were alive, somewhere in the rainforest.’

‘Okay.’ I breathed out. It was easier to breathe, but it still hurt. They still hadn’t found him. Anything could have happened in those two days.

‘I think they’ll find him, love. I really do now.’

I nodded, not that Dad could hear that.

‘Nash? Baby, are you still there?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Listen, we’re going up into the hills tomorrow so we’ll be out of range. I won’t be able to call in for a few days, okay?’

‘Okay, Dad.’

‘I’ve got to go now, honey. We love you. We’ll see you really soon, all right?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Love you, Nashy.’

The line went dead. All I could think right then was how far away my whole family was. Oceans away. A whole continent away. I was nowhere near any of them and had no way of knowing if they were all safe. I felt sick. When I put down the receiver, Dianna was standing behind me and her appearance made me leap out of my skin. ‘You made me jump.’

‘Sorry. Is there any news on your brother?’ she asked.

I pulled my jumper cuffs down over my cold fists. ‘Yeah, up until a couple of days ago he was alive. No one’s heard anything since. It’s just a horrible limbo now.’

She looked like she was searching for the right words. ‘Is he a good brother?’ she asked.

I looked at her. ‘What do you mean? He’s just … my brother.’

‘Yeah, but there’s good brothers and bad brothers. Mine’s the worst,’ she said. Her voice had a jittery anger to it, like she truly meant it.

‘Seb can be annoying,’ I said, walking along with her towards the Refectory where we did Prep. ‘When I was little he used to tease me and lock me in suitcases and fart on my head.’

‘Yeah. I had all that too.’

‘But he’s good in other ways. He used to build these assault courses in our garden, made out of old fireguards and wardrobes. We used to time each other. And he’d tell me stories at night before we went to bed. Taught me to drive too, on the beach near our house. Once, when he was about eight, he ran away with me.’

‘He did?’

‘He didn’t want my mum to cut my hair so he packed our bags and we ran away.’

‘How far did you get?’

‘Not far. This busybody neighbour saw us in the High Street and drove us home.’

‘He looked after you though?’

I swallowed and rubbed my cold nose with my cuff. ‘Yeah. I didn’t know you had a brother until Maggie mentioned him at breakfast.’