Lowewood Academy

I can’t say I noticed that she wasn’t at breakfast.  But then, when you’re table-monitoring for the Dashwood second years, you can’t afford to take your eye off the ball for a moment!  Boy are they unruly!  Was I really ever that unruly when I was a second year?

On second thoughts, don’t answer that!

What was I saying?  Oh yeah: Juliet.  So it didn’t really hit us that something was up until she didn’t appear for first period.  I mean, prefects often have other tasks to perform, teachers to see, pupils to discipline, and that must be even more the case for the Head Girl.  But even though going to classes after the exams were finished has to be one of the most pointless exercises ever, Juliet equally had to be the least likely girl in the school to bunk off one!  Yet when Mr Croft asked us where she was, none of us could actually be sure.  He made a note, and the lesson carried on without her.

When she didn’t appear for history either, Lydia’s nose for a story started twitching.

“Do you think she could’ve been sleepwalking again?” she hissed to me when old Necrophia was writing on the board.  “Maybe there’s been an accident?  Maybe she went in the lake again?  Maybe…”

“Seymour, you may be 18 and you may have sat your history papers already, but nonetheless, if you talk in my class, I will tawse you.  I would have thought you were clear about this by now.”  Dr Necrophia glared at her in customary ill-humour.

“Er, yes sir, sorry sir,” she replied.

“Final warning,” he snapped dismissively, and effectively ended the conversation.  It had got me thinking though.  *Had* something happened?

(more…)

“I’ve invited Chloe Pearson to come and stay for a couple of days,” Rachel said.

“You’ve done what?” I said, astounded by the news.

Chloe had been pestering me all week, text after text. On Rachel’s instructions I’d been replying in a non-committal sort of way; I was astounded to hear that Rachel had invited her over.

Rachel grinned. “It’s ok Harry, I’ve got it all arranged, by the time she goes back to Westonbirt she won’t be bothering us again. Just do what I tell you and it will be fine.”

Well, who was I to argue. Rachel had told me she had got a plan to deal with my stalker, now the plan was swinging into action. She sat me down and told me what she had organised. I was impressed; when Rachel gets on to something it can be pretty scary, I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of her. Chloe was going to arrive on Friday afternoon, and go straight to Rachel’s flat. Rachel was going to cook for the three of us that evening and Chloe would sleep on the sofa. That much was straightforward; it was on Saturday that the sting (quite literally) was going to happen.

(more…)

I wasn’t in the best of moods on Saturday morning. Rachel and I had planned a whole day together and the plans did not involve me being stuck in a stuffy classroom for four hours.  Dr Higgins had caught me just as I was coming out of breakfast.

“Ah Mallinson… yes… just the chap.” He gave me that vague look that he sometimes has, as though he can’t quite remember what he is going to say next.

“Sir?”

“You’re a prefect aren’t you?”

I nodded. He knew full well that I was a prefect, so why was he asking? The reason soon became clear.

“I need someone to take detention for me,” he explained. “Something has come up that needs my urgent attention… so I… I won’t be in school today.”

From the copy of the ‘Racing Post’ that Dr Higgins had quickly slipped beneath the pile of books he was carrying it was obvious what was demanding his ‘urgent attention’.  No doubt the racing card at Kempton had proved too much to resist. Not that I was even going to hint at what I suspected. We all knew Dr Higgins’ love of gambling but no-one ever mentioned it.  “They’re in classroom 7a…here’s the list.”

(more…)