The Secret Place (30 page)

‘Uh-oh,’ someone singsongs in the shadows. ‘You’re going to get in
trouble
.’

They leap and whirl, hearts pummelling their chests, Selena clenching the key deep in her fist, but the shadows are deep and they don’t see her till she steps out into the corridor. Joanne Heffernan, monochrome in the low lights left on in case someone needs to go to the toilet, just folded arms and a smirk and a babydoll nightie with big lips all over it.

‘Jesus fucking
Christ
,’ Julia hisses – Joanne swaps her smirk for her pious face, to show she disapproves of Language. ‘What are you doing, trying to give us heart attacks?’

Joanne dials up the holiness. ‘I was worried about you. Orla was going to the ladies’ and she saw you heading downstairs, and she thought you might be going to do something dangerous. Like, involving drugs or drink or something.’

A puff of laughter bursts out of Becca. Joanne’s holy look freezes for a second, but she gets it back.

‘We were in the Needlework room,’ Holly explains. ‘Sewing blankets for orphans in Africa.’

Holly always looks like she’s telling the truth; for a second, Joanne’s eyes pop. Julia says, ‘I had a vision of Saint Fucktardius telling me the orphans needed our help,’ and her face goes lemon-sucking pious again.

‘If you were indoors,’ she says, moving forward, ‘then what’s this?’ She makes a grab at Selena’s hair – ‘Ow!’ from Selena, jumping back – and holds something out in the palm of her hand. It’s a sprig of cypress, rich green, still wrapped in frosty outside air.

‘It’s a miracle!’ Julia says. ‘Praise Saint Fucktardius, patron of indoor gardening.’

Joanne drops the twig and wipes her hand on her nightie. ‘Ew,’ she says, wrinkling her nose. ‘You smell of
cigarettes
.’

‘Sewing-machine fumes,’ Holly says. ‘Lethal.’

Joanne ignores that. ‘
So
,’ she says. ‘You guys have a key to the outside door.’

‘No we don’t. The outside door’s alarmed at night,’ Julia says. ‘Genius.’

Which Joanne may not be, but she’s not thick either. ‘Then the door to the school, and you went out a window. Same difference.’

‘So?’ Holly wants to know. ‘If we did, which we didn’t, what do you care?’

Joanne is still being holy – some nun along the way must have told her she looks like some saint – which turns her faintly bug-eyed. ‘That’s dangerous. Something could happen to you out there. You could get
attacked
.’

That gets another stifled pop of laughter out of Becca. ‘Like you’d care,’ Julia says. They’ve all drawn close, so they can keep to whispers; the forced nearness prickles like they’re about to fight. ‘Skip to the part where you tell us what you want.’

Joanne drops the saint thing. ‘If you get caught this easy,’ she says, ‘you’re obviously too stupid to have the key. You should give it to someone who’s got the brains to use it.’

‘That leaves you out, then,’ says Becca.

Joanne stares at her like she’s a talking dog who’s said something revolting. ‘And you should really go back to being too pathetic to talk,’ she says. ‘At least then people felt sorry for you.’ To Julia and Holly: ‘Can you explain to that uggo why she needs to watch her nasty metal mouth?’

Julia says to Becca, ‘I’ve got this.’

‘Why bother?’ Becca wants to know. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

‘Oh. My. God,’ Joanne says, smacking her forehead. ‘How do you manage not to kill her? Hello, keep up: you need to bother because if I call Matron and she sees you dressed like that, she’s going to know you’ve been outside. Is that what you want?’

‘No,’ Julia says, standing on Becca’s foot. ‘We’d all be delighted if you could just go to bed and forget you ever saw us.’

‘Right. So if you want me to do you a massive favour like that, you should actually probably be nice to me?’

‘We can do nice.’

‘That’s great. The key, please,’ Joanne says. ‘Thanks
so
much.’ And she holds out her hand.

Julia says, ‘We’ll make you a copy tomorrow.’

Joanne doesn’t bother to answer. She just stands there, staring at none of them in particular and holding out her hand.

‘Come
on
. For fuck’s sake.’

Her stare widens a fraction. Nothing else.

The silence twists tight. After a long time Julia says, ‘Yeah. OK.’

‘
We
might make
you
a copy someday,’ Joanne says graciously, as Selena’s hand slowly comes up towards her. ‘If you remember to be nice, and if you can teach Little Miss Smarty over there what nice even means. Do you think you can manage that?’

It means weeks months years of smiling meekly when Joanne flicks bits of bitchiness their way, of asking pretty-please with a cherry on top can we have our key now, of watching her cock her head and consider whether they deserve it and decide regretfully that they don’t. It means the end of these nights; the end of everything. They want to wrap the dark air around her neck and pull. Selena’s fingers open.

Joanne touches the key and her hand leaps. The key skids and whirls away from her down the floor of the corridor and she’s squawking like she doesn’t have enough breath for a shriek, ‘
Ow!
OhmyGod, it
burned
me, owowow it
burned
what did you
do
—’

Holly and Julia are in her face and hissing violently, ‘Shut up
shut up
!’ but not fast enough: at the end of the corridor one of the prefects calls, drowsy and annoyed, ‘What do you want?’

Joanne whips around to scream for her. ‘No!’ Julia whispers, grabbing her arm. ‘Go; get in your room. We’ll give you the key tomorrow. I swear.’

‘Get off me,’ Joanne snarls, terrified into pure fury. ‘You’re going to be
so sorry
for this. Look at my hand, look what you
did
—’

Her hand looks totally fine, not even a mark on it, but the light is streaky and Joanne is moving; they can’t tell for sure. Down the corridor, less drowsy and more annoyed: ‘If I have to come out there, I swear to God—’

Joanne’s mouth opens again. ‘Listen!’ Julia hisses, with all the force she can cram into it. ‘If we get caught, then nobody’ll have the key. Get it? Go to bed; we’ll sort it tomorrow. Just
go
.’

‘You are total freaks,’ Joanne spits. ‘Normal people shouldn’t have to be in the same school as you. If my hand’s scarred, I’m going to
sue
you.’ And she whirls back into her room in a nightie-flounce of gaping lip-prints.

Julia grabs Becca’s arm and runs for their door, feeling the others behind them silent and speedy as down the paths to the glade, Selena barely breaking stride to scoop up the key. In, door closed, Holly presses her ear to it; but the prefect can’t be arsed hauling herself out of bed, now that the sounds have stopped. They’re safe.

Selena and Becca are giggling, wild and breathless, into their sleeves. ‘Her
face
– ohmyGod, did you see her
face
, I almost died—’

‘Let me feel it,’ Becca whispers, ‘come here, let me feel—’

‘It’s not hot now,’ Selena says. ‘It’s fine.’

They find her, in the darkness, and sift among one another’s reaching fingers to touch the key in her open hand. It’s palm-warm; nothing more.

‘Did you see it
jump
?’ Becca says. She’s almost dizzy with delight. ‘
Zooming
down the corridor, away from that cow—’

‘Or it bounced,’ Julia says. ‘Because she dropped it.’

‘It
jumped
. Her face, that was beautiful, I’d give anything for a photo—’

‘Who even did that?’ Holly wants to know, switching on her reading light half-hidden under her pillow so they can change without knocking anything over. ‘Was that you, Becs?’

‘I think it was me,’ Selena says. She tosses Julia the key, its glint like a tiny meteor streaking between them. ‘It doesn’t actually matter, though. If I can do it, you guys can too.’

‘Ah,
cool
,’ Becca says, wriggling out of all her layers at once and kicking them under her bed. She throws on her pyjamas and bounces into bed, where she balances the cap off her water bottle on edge on her bedside locker and starts trying to knock it over without touching it.

Julia is stashing the key back inside her phone cover. She says, ‘Next time, could you save that stuff for when it’s not going to get us into huge amounts of shit? Like, please?’

‘I didn’t do it on purpose,’ Selena says, muffled in the hoodie she’s pulling over her head. ‘It just happened, because I was getting all wound up. And if it hadn’t, Joanne would’ve have taken the key.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s not like she’s going to forget the whole thing. We’ll have to deal with it tomorrow instead, is all. And now she’s raging with us.’

That cools the air. ‘Her hand’s fine,’ Selena says. ‘She’s just being a drama queen.’

‘Right. So she’s a total drama-queen bitch who’s raging with us. How is that better?’

‘What do we do?’ Becca asks, glancing up from her bottle cap.

‘What do you think we do?’ Holly says, tossing jumpers into the wardrobe. ‘We make her a copy of the key. Unless you actually want to get expelled.’

‘Why would we get expelled? She can’t prove we did anything.’

‘OK: unless you want to never go out again. Because if we do, Joanne can go running to Matron and be all, “Oo Matron I just
happened
to see them going downstairs and I’m so
worried
about them,” and then Matron waits and catches us coming back in and
then
we get expelled.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Julia says, kicking into her pyjama bottoms. ‘I’ll talk to her. I think the hardware place beside the Court does keys.’

‘She’s going to be a total bitch about it,’ Holly says.

‘Yeah, no shit. I’m going to have to apologise to her for what you said, smartarse.’ She means Becca. ‘You think I’m looking forward to grovelling for that ass-faced cow?’

‘You won’t have to,’ Becca says. ‘She’s scared of us now.’

‘For the next ten seconds, she is. Then she’ll turn the whole thing into some drama in her head, like she’s the heroine and we’re the evil witches who tried to burn her to death but she was just too special. And I’ll have to apologise for that, too. And convince her that the key just felt hot because Lenie’d been holding it and her hand was hot from running or whatever.’ Julia climbs into bed and throws herself hard onto her pillow. ‘Fun fun fun.’

Selena says, ‘At least this way we get to keep our key.’

‘We would’ve anyway. We’d have talked her out of it, or just robbed another one. You didn’t need to go all fucking
poltergeist
on her.’

Becca says, and her voice is tightening up, ‘Better than going all
Yes Joanne no Joanne three bags full Joanne,
letting that stupid cow be the boss of us—’

The bottle cap hops on the bedside locker and tumbles over. ‘Look!’ Becca yelps, and claps a hand over her mouth as the others hiss ‘Shhh!’ at her. ‘No, look! I did it!’

‘Awesomesauce,’ Holly says. ‘I’m gonna try in the morning.’

‘What are we doing?’ Julia demands, suddenly and vehemently. ‘All this shit; this, and the lights. What are we getting into here?’

The others look at her. In that light she’s the unreadable silhouette from the glade again, propped on her elbows, a tense arc.

‘I’m getting happy,’ Becca says. ‘That’s what I’m getting into.’

Holly says, ‘We’re not blowing stuff
up
. It’s not like it’s about to go all horrible.’

‘You don’t know. I’m not saying OMG we’re going to unleash demons; I’m just saying this is weird shit. If it only worked in the glade, then fine: it’s something separate, with its own separate place. But it’s
here
.’

Holly says, ‘So? If it gets too weird, we just stop doing it. What’s the big deal?’

‘Yeah? Just stop? Lenie, you didn’t even want the key to get hot: it
just happened
, because you were stressing. Same with Becs, the first time she turned the light off: that was because we were fighting. So if Sister Cornelius gives me hassle about something, do I just go ahead and zoom a book into her fat face, which yeah would be lots of fun but probably not the greatest idea ever? Or do I have to watch myself the whole time to make sure I’m totally zen, man, so I can live like a normal person?’