CHAPTER 19

Lily really felt the loss of Phoebe’s friendship.

None of her roommates spoke to her at bedtime and Lily spent ages in the bathroom, so she wouldn’t have to deal with their anger before lights out.

She spent most of Saturday in one of the practice rooms memorising as much of A Midsummer Night’s Dream as she could. It was lonely work and hard to concentrate because she kept thinking about Phoebe and the ink stain and wondering whether Charlotte could have left Lily’s pen on her quilt.

She wished she had someone to rehearse with, but Max was out with Darcy and even if she’d been brave enough to ask Ronan, he’d gone out of town for the day. As she turned to Act II and recited, ‘The king doth keep his revels here tonight,’ Lily couldn’t help wondering where Ronan had gone and who he was with. Probably friends, or maybe a girl . . . Lily pushed the thought from her mind and reached for her phone.

‘Hey, Angel,’ she said when her friend picked up.

‘Hey Lily. I was just about to ring you. How are things?’

For a moment Lily was tempted to tell Angel the truth – about everything. But she opened her mouth and said, ‘Fine. Everything’s great. You?’

‘Pretty good. Monsieur Vidal’s still a perfectionist and I never feel I’m good enough, but I’m learning loads so it’s okay.’

‘How’s Grandmama?’

‘As masterful as ever. You know what she’s like. Wishing she heard from you a bit more, I think.’

‘I called her three days ago,’ protested Lily.

Angel laughed. ‘Well, unless you want her on your doorstep, I’d call her again.’

‘Sure,’ said Lily. She changed the subject. ‘How’s Nick? I haven’t heard from him for a while. I hope you two are still a couple,’ she added provocatively.

As expected, Angel practically exploded down the phone. ‘Of course we are!’ she cried. ‘We text and email and talk all the time, and Nick’s coming to Paris next weekend, which means I can’t come to London till the weekend after.’

‘Boyfriend before best friend, is that it?’ teased Lily, but she didn’t really mind. It felt good to laugh with someone. They talked for nearly an hour and, by the time she got off the phone, Lily felt better.

Okay, so she still hadn’t told Angel about her one-term trial, or the horrible note or Phoebe’s quilt, or the fact that she was practically friendless. She might’ve told her about Ronan, only so far there was nothing to tell. Besides, not confiding in Angel about Ronan somehow made it easier to stay silent about the impossible choice her dad had made Lily promise not to mention. She sighed. Maybe when things weren’t so difficult she’d be able to tell Angel all about the Academy. The weekend after next, when she and Nick came over, that’d be the time. Things were bound to be better by then.

Sunday morning, Lily got up early and went down to the gym. She’d had enough of the Arctic atmosphere in her room and she had hours to kill before she was due to meet Ronan at Pendragon. In the meantime, she wanted to find someone – anyone – to talk to.

Luckily, Mr Sutton had posted a notice offering an extra fencing class to any student willing to show up on a weekend. Lily was pretty sure none of her roommates would be there and when she got to the gym she was relieved to discover that her instincts had been right. Of the dozen or so students who’d turned up, the only other first years present were Fatima and Liam.

Which only made it more disappointing when, ten minutes into the class, Gemma arrived in full fencing gear. She looked angry and Lily’s heart sank. The last thing she needed was Gemma hassling her again.

She told herself to forget about Gemma and focus on the class, so it was another disappointment when their instructor put them together for the first practice bout.

‘Okay, people,’ called Waldo Sutton. ‘Let’s begin with a few simple ripostes.’ He waved Gemma over. ‘Lily, you and Gemma run through the basics and then move onto the compound attacks I had you two practising last week.’

‘Okay,’ said Lily, taking her position.

As Mr Sutton moved away, Lily pulled down her mask. She was lifting her sword to salute her partner when Gemma suddenly lunged forward at full speed, her buttoned foil aimed straight at Lily’s chest.

Lily jumped back hastily and only just managed to deflect the sword with a quarte parry before riposting gently to Gemma’s torso. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered. ‘We’re meant to be warming up, not running competition drills!’

‘You bitch – you did it again!’ hissed Gemma, lunging forward again at speed and aiming for Lily’s upper body.

‘Did what? What are you talking about?’ demanded Lily, her quarte and counter-sixte parries instantly answered by two angry direct ripostes.

‘First you threw my stuff all over the floor,’ said Gemma, driving at Lily with an attack to her exposed right side.

‘That wasn’t me!’ cried Lily, swinging her foil in a semi-circular octave parry and initiating the action with her feet, rather than her hand, in an attempt to drive Gemma back. ‘I told you!’

‘Then you ruined Phoebe’s quilt,’ said Gemma, this time aiming high and fast at Lily’s other side.

Lily tried to get her foil up in time, but there was no time to parry. She only just managed to deflect the blade with her sword arm. ‘I didn’t!’ she panted, closing the distance and locking the other girl’s blade between her arm and her body in an attempt to stop the bout. ‘I never touched it!’ She could almost feel the rage radiating through Gemma’s mask.

They separated, but as Lily took up the en garde position, Gemma suddenly lunged forward aggressively, disengaged and broke through, striking Lily on the chest. ‘You’re a liar,’ she said, stepping back.

Shaken, Lily desperately tried to regain her focus. ‘What is your problem?’ she cried, as Gemma came at her again, feinted to Lily’s high line, anticipated her parry and disengaged to the low line.

‘Charlotte’s Vidal jacket is missing,’ said Gemma.

‘Well, I didn’t take it!’ said Lily, desperately parrying a series of angry thrusts as she felt the panic rise inside her. If Charlotte went to the Drake and told him that Lily had taken her jacket, he’d kick her out of the Academy for sure . . .

‘She must have left it somewhere,’ insisted Lily, her panic turning to fury as she saw Gemma charging at her. ‘I never touched it!’ she yelled, quickly changing her riposte to a semicircular octave parry. She caught Gemma’s blade between the guard and forte of her own sword but, instead of riposting with a single disengagement, she bound her blade, lifted it up and struck Gemma in the mask.

Gemma instantly stepped back and tore off her mask. ‘That’s cheating!’ she cried, her face flushed with anger.

‘And fencing without any kind of etiquette isn’t?’ demanded Lily, removing her own mask.

‘It’s no more than you deserve,’ said Gemma. ‘I know you took Charlotte’s jacket!’

‘You don’t know anything,’ snapped Lily.

‘I know you lied to me about Ronan Carver,’ retorted Gemma. ‘Fatima overheard Max telling Darcy Johnson that Ronan told you he wanted to paint me.’ She lifted her sword, aiming it directly at Lily’s heart. ‘You can’t deny it, can you? So if you lied about Ronan, who’s to say you haven’t lied about everything else? You’re a –’

Mr Sutton’s voice cut her off. ‘Enough!’ He strode across the gym. ‘What do you girls think you’re doing?’ he barked. ‘If you want to quarrel, take it outside. Fencing is about focus. You can both give me ten laps. Now!’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Lily, stripping off her glove and holding out her bare hand to Gemma. Because, even if they hated each other, fencing etiquette still required them to shake hands at the end of the bout.

Gemma glared, ignored her outstretched hand and stalked away.

They ran their laps, but not together, and by the time Lily got to the change room Gemma was already there telling everyone how Lily had stolen Charlotte’s jacket.

‘I didn’t take it!’ yelled Lily. ‘You have no ri–’ The lunch bell drowned out the remaining words and a moment later the change room was empty and Lily was alone again.

By the time she was dressed, she’d decided that her best course of action was to go straight to Charlotte.

But Charlotte wasn’t in any of the usual places, and after Lily had checked their bedroom, the common room and the dining hall, she was sure Charlotte had gone to tell the Drake that Lily de Tourney was a thief and should be thrown out of the Academy immediately.

It was a horrible thought and Lily’s heart thudded as she stood indecisively in the entrance hall wondering what to do next.

And then she remembered the note she’d found on her locker. Surely that was proof that she was herself a victim of a hate campaign.

She spun round and raced for the locker room, praying that the crumpled note would still be where she’d tossed it. She wrenched open the locker door and gazed eagerly inside.

What she saw there made her heart stop beating.

Stuffed into the corner of Lily’s locker was Charlotte Cardew’s vintage Vidal jacket.