Secret Lives (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

C
assie focused intently on the art master. The class had left the Orangerie and its treasures, and now they sat blinking in the sunlight as Signor Poldino gestured enthusiastically around the Jardin des Tuileries. He was no oil painting, bless him, but at least he was relaxing to look at.

‘Remember
Les Nymphéas
,’ exclaimed the little teacher, bouncing on his heels with excitement. ‘The impact on the eye and the heart! Think of texture and light, of creating your landscape from these. See with Monet’s eyes! Use colour! Use emotion!’

‘Use a camera, perhaps?’ murmured a familiar English voice, carrying in the clear autumn air. ‘Technology having advanced since Monet’s day.’

Keiko put her sketchbook over her face, snorting with mirth. Signor Poldino reddened, Jake threw Richard a filthy look, but Cormac frowned and called out, ‘Give it a rest, Richard.’

‘Quite,’ snapped Ayeesha. ‘Do go on, Signor Poldino. Please.
Some
of us were quite overwhelmed by the waterlilies. Some of us would like to learn more.’

Poldino shot her a grateful look. ‘I shall leave you all to wander in the gardens. Please return here in …’ he checked his old-fashioned pocket watch, ‘… two hours. I am sure
some
of you will produce delightful sketches.’ He smiled at Ayeesha and Cormac, then at Cassie.

‘God,’ Richard murmured to Perry as he stood up and stretched. ‘Ayeesha’s turning into an insufferable prig. And old Oirish-Eyes is almost as bad.’

Perry sniggered. ‘I think he fancies her.’

‘Perry!’ called Keiko imperiously.

‘Go on, you’ve been summoned. Do try to get some work done too, Peregrine. I don’t want my roommate’s poor performance reflecting on
me
.’

With another sycophantic chuckle, Perry was gone. Richard was close to Cassie’s shoulder, and she felt her heartbeat quicken as he leaned down. ‘Come and see my sketchings?’ he said seductively.

‘Ha ha,’ she said, not turning. If he only knew how close he was to a good slap … But which of his two faces would she go for? No, better to keep pretending that everything was fine. Cassie wasn’t about to have a row with him in front of everybody. He’d caused her enough embarrassment already.

‘Sorry. Not funny. Come and be my muse, then, lovely Cassie?’

Cassie concentrated hard on sorting the half-squashed tubes in her paintbox. ‘Richard, if it’s OK with you, I’d like to … um … be on my own?’ Taking a deep breath, she managed to glance up and force a smile. ‘I’ve never been here before. It’s pretty amazing. I need to think about it. If you don’t mind.’

‘Oh. Of course not.’

His puzzled disappointment sounded genuine. But, then again, so had all his compliments, and Cassie knew now how much they were worth. For a few seconds Richard hovered, as if expecting her to change her mind, then he wandered away.

She breathed out a relieved sigh, and turned.
Damn
. She hadn’t thought Ranjit would still be there. He glanced over in her direction, and their eyes met for a split-second, before the unsmiling Indian turned away.

Crossly, Cassie got to her feet and walked swiftly in the opposite direction. There were two hours to kill: surely she could find something paintable, since Poldino obviously expected good work from her again. The gardens were not vast, but she had to avoid Ranjit. And Richard. And Jake, who was in a surly mood. And preferably Keiko too … Lordy, her room for manoeuvre was limited.

When she was certain that she was far enough away from everybody else, Cassie sat down on a low wall and began to draw desultory figures in her sketchbook. It was more fun and a lot more involving than she’d expected, but just as her fascination with the tourists was wearing thin, and the crowds were dwindling, she spotted a little girl in a yellow raincoat holding a bright-blue balloon. That was better.

The child noticed the attention, made a face. Cassie made one back. A small tongue came out, and so did Cassie’s. Hurriedly sketching the balloon clutched in one fist, Cassie found herself in a face-pulling contest. They were both giggling by the time a parent seized the child’s hand and swept her off towards the gallery.

Drat. She hadn’t got the collar right: it looked like an Elizabethan ruff. Frustrated, she stared at the gap where the girl had been, and let her eyes wander for the first time in over an hour. They ached from concentrating, so she rubbed them. As her vision cleared, she made out two familiar figures, barely twenty feet away.

Ranjit and Jake.

Ranjit had been sitting on a bench, but he had half-risen to confront Jake, who was standing over him. Jake’s posture was aggressive, his expression was twisted with rage, and he was giving Ranjit an earful. Ranjit seemed stunned, as if he’d been caught off guard, and as Jake raised his voice, so did he.

‘Jake, would you listen to me, for God’s sake—’

Cassie stood up, took a few steps towards them. Both their heads snapped round simultaneously. Without a word, Jake turned and stormed off, his feet crunching on the gravel path. Ranjit sat down heavily.

Cassie hesitated, but something in Ranjit’s expression was so miserable she couldn’t help herself. She sauntered up to him, trying to look casual.

‘What was all that about? Artistic differences?’

With a low groan, he put his face in his hands. Cassie waited, happy to study him. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing golden arms. His hands were beautiful too, and strong, but right now they were white-knuckled and tense.

‘Don’t want to talk about it, eh?’

‘That’s right.’ He took his hands away from his face and stared after Jake. ‘Just like you, Cassandra.’

She shrugged, allowing herself a smile, since he wouldn’t see it. His sketchbook was half-open beside him, so she took another sly peek at his face. He still wasn’t looking. Leaning down, she flipped the cover back.

If she hadn’t gasped, she might have had longer to examine the picture. As it was, he whipped round as fast as a cobra and snatched it away, his dark cheekbones flushed. ‘It isn’t finished!’

She chewed the corner of her mouth, not quite able to look at him. ‘Can I see it when it is?’

‘If I ever finish it,’ he said curtly as he got to his feet. ‘We’d better get back.’

He didn’t say another word to her, even though she walked at his side all the way to the Orangerie. They were the last to arrive and Cassie felt several pairs of eyes on them as they arrived. Keiko’s glare was ferocious: no doubt it wouldn’t be long before Katerina heard how Cassie and Ranjit had emerged from the shrubbery together. Richard’s smile was a little less assured than usual; Jake didn’t look at anyone or anything.

At least Signor Poldino was delighted to see them. He clapped his chubby hands. ‘Wonderful. Now we must return to school, but Cassie, Ranjit! I am looking forward to seeing your finished work.’

I hope Ranjit does finish his, Cassie thought wistfully. And she really hoped he’d let her see it. He’d drawn two simple figures who were watching one another with open delight and amusement: a small girl in a yellow raincoat holding a balloon, and a laughing teenager cross-legged on a low wall, sketching her. The older girl looked so carefree, it would have been easy not to recognise herself.

She did, though.

*

‘Ooh, pretty woman,’ sang an American voice.

Cassie snapped her head up, expecting to see Jake’s familiar features.

But it was Richard. He dumped his books on Jake’s desk, pulled out his chair and slumped down, linking his hands behind his head in a fair imitation of the American’s cocky attitude.

Cassie scrutinised him. ‘You’re good at that.’

‘What?’

‘Mimicking. You sounded just like him.’

‘Why, thank you.’ He batted his long lashes at her.

‘Pretty good actor all round, really.’

‘Hm?’ His body tensed, very slightly.

It put her in mind of a snake, somehow. Like the way a snake’s whole length tightened like a spring, just before it struck out.
Be careful
, Jake had said in the restaurant. Falling out with Richard could be really, really stupid, for more than one reason.

Not that she was taking Jake’s advice. But she wouldn’t find out the Academy’s secrets by having a strop with anyone who hacked her off. So don’t get mad, she told herself: get even.

Besides, Richard wasn’t the only decent actor around here. Cassie gave him a grin that put the big, easy smile back on his face. ‘Where’s Jake?’

‘He’s not coming to classes today.’ Richard’s shoulders lifted slightly. ‘He isn’t too well, I heard. Suffers from insomnia, you know. Perhaps he had a particularly bad night.’

‘Shame,’ said Cassie lightly. ‘So. You been avoiding me or something?’

‘Darling!’ He sat a little straighter. ‘I thought
you’d
been avoiding
me
!’

‘Course not. I’ve been busy, that’s all.’

‘And a bit sleepless yourself. I nearly fell off my chair when I saw you at the common-room door the other night.’ He was all concern, leaning forward. ‘Listen, if you want to see the place that much, I can try and arrange something.’

She gave him a sheepish grin. ‘Actually, I’d really like that. I got a bit lost, that’s all. I like walking round at night when I can’t sleep. I always did. Better than just lying there, staring at the ceiling.’

‘Thinking of England,’ drawled Richard. ‘I do like the image you conjure up.’

Cassie laughed. ‘I’ll say it again. You’re the
limit
, you.’

From the front of the classroom there was a cough. ‘Victor Hugo, ladies and gentlemen. Would you please turn to page fourteen …’

Madame Lefèvre wasn’t exactly the hardest disciplinarian in the school, and she was short-sighted into the bargain. Cassie could sense Richard fidgeting and flicking ahead through the pages. At last he leaned across.

‘You’re interested in the Few, aren’t you?’ he whispered.

Cassie tapped her open book with a forefinger, feigning disapproval. He sat back and sighed. In less than a minute, though, he was leaning towards her again. ‘Look, I can tell you what happens. I’ve seen the movie.’

‘There’s a movie?’ she whispered. ‘About the Few?’

He grinned. ‘Tease. I mean The Hunchback. He dies, OK? I’m bored. So how interested are you?’

‘Get over yourself. And shush.’

He muffled a laugh. ‘In the Few, I mean. How interested? Would you like to be a member?’

Cassie blinked, rendered speechless. This she hadn’t expected. Low sun streamed through the tall windows, making it hard to see Richard’s face, but there was something eager in his voice.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Mademoiselle BELL!’

‘Sorry.’

Cassie tried to take in the page in front of her, but her concentration was shattered. To be a member of the Few! What better way to find out what was going on here? Surreptitiously she turned again to Richard. She’d caught him unawares, and his stare was different, more intent. Embarrassed, he faked a grin and returned to his book.

Aha! He did like her after all, she realised with amusement. She wasn’t going to be taken in by him again, but he actually
did
like her. He’d been acting the bitch with Katerina that day, just as he’d acted the lovestruck swain with Cassie. But he didn’t know Cassie had overheard him. That gave her the advantage. It was pretty obvious he didn’t want to offend Katerina – but he didn’t want to fall out with Cassie either. Oh, this could get interesting. She smothered a smile.

What a lot of masks he wore. Maybe even Richard didn’t know any more which was the real one. Still, there was nothing sinister about a bit of playacting. He was looking out for himself, and Cassie had to admit that appealed to her. She knew how to watch out for herself, too. She could understand the instinct.

Be careful, Cassie
. Hearing Jake’s voice again in her head, she frowned. What had happened to Jake, anyway? Too much night prowling, as Richard had hinted?

He wasn’t the only one throwing a sickie, either. Alice wasn’t at her desk.

‘You’d be great for the Few,’ Richard murmured. ‘Some of them really like you. They think you have … spirit.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Cassie remembered the empty desk three rows in front. ‘What’s happened to Alice?’

‘Oh, Alice.’ There was a grin in his low voice. ‘Still getting over her hangover, I should think.’

‘From three nights ago?’ Cassie raised her eyebrows.

‘Well. That girl can knock ’em back, let me tell you. And of course she was a little over-excited about being invited to the common room. You’d never be that silly, would you?’

Cassie frowned. Over-excited? That wasn’t what she’d call it. That wasn’t how Alice had looked, perched on that chair with the silver cup clutched in her hands, skin pale, eyes dull, body limp.

‘No,’ she murmured at last, managing a dry laugh. ‘I’m not that easily impressed, sunshine.’

‘I know.’ He winked. ‘That’s why you’d be ideal. And someone already recommended you.’

Cassie stared. ‘Who? Sir Alric?’

‘God, no.’ Richard looked alarmed. ‘Don’t tell him we had this conversation, will you? I’m not supposed to – um – speak out of turn. Keep it secret for now, OK?’

‘I’m hardly likely to be having a cosy chat with him.’ Cassie’s tone turned frosty. Why would Sir Alric object to her? Obviously Richard was still a crashing snob, if he couldn’t own up to liking her. Once more she was unsure if she liked and trusted Richard, or couldn’t stand him. ‘So who, then? Who recommended me?’

‘Someone very important. That’s all you—’

‘Monsieur Halton-Jones! Perhaps you would like to give us your insights into the structure of these opening chapters?’

‘Madame Lefèvre, of course!’ Richard threw the teacher a dazzling smile and cleared his throat, flipping open his notebook.

She’d probably imagined it, thought Cassie: the nervous relief on Madame’s face. A little flushed, as if she’d got away with heinous cheek by daring to scold a member of the Few. A pulse throbbing fast in her temple.

Richard stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. ‘Poor Quasimodo,’ he began. ‘The tragedy is foreshadowed from the outset …’