Blue Moon (Book One in The Blue Crystal Trilogy) (3 page)

Someone once told me there were
more consultants per square inch in Hartswell-on-the-Hill than any
other neighbouring village, due to its vicinity to a nearby major
hospital, but I don’t know if that was true.

One thing was certain, to live
in Hartswell you needed money, as its expanding population of
doctors, lawyers, accountants, businessmen and other upwardly
thrusting young professionals testified. There was the obligatory
council estate at the other end of the village, where Tash lived,
and a number of smaller houses in some of the less desirable roads,
such as the one where Seth and I lived, but for the main part, the
houses were large, expensive and afforded only by birthright,
inheritance or a big salary. All of which meant one thing.
Desirable as Hartswell-on-the-Hill was from a real estate point of
view, it was a fairly boring place to live. Especially if you were
young. An infrequent bus service into the neighbouring town meant
you were back in the village by 10pm on a weekday, and 10.30pm on a
Saturday night, which was hardly conducive to partying. For a few
months, until it gave up the ghost, my old mini had been our
passport to freedom, but now we were beholden once more on the bus
service or our parents, which was not an option we favoured.

The bus pulled up outside
Hartsdown High, the local red brick senior state school, with its
assortment of add-on Portakabin classrooms housing a growing
population of fifteen hundred plus pupils, and the majority of
passengers alighted. The campus also housed Hartsdown College, the
post-16 educational facility, and it was to this more exclusive
area that we headed.

We settled noisily into our
tutor group, more interested in discussing the previous weekend
than the forthcoming lessons, and very glad this was the last week
before the Easter break. There was one piece of news to make these
last few days a little more interesting. A new student was to join
us, according to our tutor, Mrs Pritchard, and we waited
expectantly while she took the register.

“She’s taking English
Literature, Art, History and Philosophy,” said Mrs Pritchard,
studying the file, “so any students enrolled on those courses,
please help her to settle in.”

“Same as us, apart from
Philosophy,” I said to Tash, who nodded back. We’d both attempted
this mind-expanding subject, but after sitting through one tutorial
had decided it was far too mind-boggling and altogether strange for
our liking. Instead, Tash had opted for Geography and I’d chosen
Business Studies, both solid, down-to-earth subjects you could get
your head around.

By 9.10, the new girl had
failed to show, and Seth, Tash and I went down to our first class,
double English Literature, wondering when she would arrive. There
was an unmistakable buzz of excitement in the air, based on a sense
of expectation that something new was about to happen, and as hard
as we tried to concentrate on Shakespeare’s use of language in
Macbeth, it proved increasingly difficult to focus on Miss
Widdicombe’s monotone voice. A general sense of disinterest settled
over the class as we all tried and failed to follow the lesson.

“Where is she?” Tash mouthed to
me, turning round from the row in front.

I shrugged my shoulders and
started to mouth a reply when Miss Widdicombe zoomed in on me.

“Emily, would you like to
explain the difference between Shakespeare’s use of an iambic
pentameter and trochaic rhythm as found in Macbeth, and give an
example of each?” she asked pointedly.

“Er, trochaic rhythm is, er,
where Shakespeare, er…..” I floundered, and struggling to answer,
looked down at my textbook for inspiration, my cheeks scarlet. I
hated being picked on, especially when I didn’t know the
answer.

“Yes?” asked Miss Widdicombe.
“Can anybody help Emily with this?”

The whole class looked at her
blankly and she tutted in irritation, about to launch into yet
another diatribe on our lack of appreciation of the subtleties of
the English language, when her attention was distracted by a knock
on the door. It opened almost immediately, revealing Mrs Pritchard
followed by the long awaited new student. Suddenly we were all
interested.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Mrs
Pritchard quickly to Miss Widdicombe. “I have a new addition for
you. Everyone, this is Violet de Lucis.”

The new girl stepped out from
behind Mrs Pritchard and there was a sharp intake of breath on the
part of the whole class, followed by a stunned silence as we gazed
at the vision before us. I don’t think anyone knew quite what to
say.

She was unbelievably beautiful.
Her long blond burnished hair was straight out of a fairy story,
tumbling gracefully over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were piercing
and large, her nose small and elegant, and her lips pink and full.
She wore a pale blue sweatshirt, faded skinny jeans and high-heeled
black boots, and with her slim figure, looked more like a fashion
model than a college student.

We stared at her and she stared
back without smiling, her look neither hostile nor unfriendly, but
simply sizing us up, selectively examining each one carefully.

Then two things happened
simultaneously. Somebody wolf-whistled from the back of the
classroom, breaking the tension and causing everyone to giggle, and
at the same time her eyes met mine and I felt as if I’d been
pierced with a laser beam. I’m not kidding, I felt like she was
looking inside my head and turning me inside out. I stared back,
locked into her gaze, feeling something I can only describe as a
magnetic pull linking us together.

For an instant, time stood
still, the classroom faded away and there was only her and me,
staring at each other. Then she smiled a dazzling, friendly smile
and the moment was gone. The classroom came back into focus and I
took a deep breath, feeling exhausted and energized at the same
time. I looked around, expecting everyone to be watching me, but no
one appeared to have noticed.

“Violet, why don’t you sit next
to Emily?” suggested Mrs Pritchard. “There’s an empty desk
there.”

“Thank you,” said Violet, in a
voice as clear as crystal, and came to sit alongside me. She turned
and smiled once again, although not with the previous intensity,
and this time, I grinned back.

“We were just examining the
difference between …’ began Miss Widdicombe.

“Shakespeare’s use of trochaic
rhythm and iambic pentameters?” said Violet, smiling confidently.
“I know. I heard as I came in.” She then proceeded to give a
detailed explanation of each, backed up by examples from the play,
and we all stared once again, mouths agog in disbelief.

“I was just about to say that,”
Seth called out, and we all laughed.

The rest of the lesson passed
in a haze, as we all gawped at Violet, quite unsure what to make of
her knowledge, her composure or her dazzling beauty. Miss
Widdicombe might just as well have been teaching us Chinese as
English, for all the notice we took of her and when the bell came
for the end of the lesson, she gathered her books with an
exasperated sigh and swept out of the room muttering something
about the end of term not coming soon enough.

I turned to Violet. “It’s break
time, do you want to go to the café for a hot chocolate?”

“That would be nice,” she
started to say, before she was literally mobbed by the rest of the
class, all asking questions at the same time.

“Where do you come from?”
“Where are you living?” “Where do you get your skinny jeans from?”
“What are you doing tonight?” The questions came thick and fast and
Violet looked at me, shrugging her shoulders. She held up her hands
for silence and, miraculously, everyone stopped talking.

“My family has come to live
here from Egypt,” she said in her crystal clear voice. “We had to
leave with all the trouble that’s going on. It was getting too
dangerous to stay. We’re going to be living in
Hartswell-on-the-Hill, at Hartswell Hall, which we’re turning into
a luxury hotel. There’s me, my mum and dad, and my older brother
Theo, who will also be coming to college. He’s already done
A-levels, but he wants to do a refresher course.”

Thirteen female minds did the
same equation at exactly the same time. She had an older brother.
Coming to college. If he was anywhere half as gorgeous as his
sister, he was going to be an absolute heartthrob.

“Now, if you don’t mind, Emily
and I are going to get a drink,” she said, and linking arms with
me, literally pulled me towards the door. “Sorry,” she muttered
under her breath, “I simply can’t stand all the attention, it
really freaks me out. Now which way do we go?”

I guided her down the stairs as
if in a dream, realising too late that I’d left Tash behind. Never
mind, I’d see her at lunchtime. We could talk later.

For the next twenty minutes,
Violet and I sat in the café, sipping hot chocolate, talking and
swapping stories. She exuded a natural warmth and radiance, and I
felt totally at ease in her presence. As our body chemistries
meshed, I felt re-energised and refreshed, glowing in her reflected
glory, and I remember thinking that she was a better tonic than any
pills or potions.

I told her about life in
Hartswell-on-the-Hill, which didn’t take long, about my family and
friends, and about Hartsdown College. She told me of her life in
Egypt, of the heat and the dust, the markets and bazaars, the
colours and the spices, and the fabulous house that her family
owned, with its outdoor pool, many rooms and servants.

“Servants,” I repeated. “I
can’t imagine what it must be like to have servants waiting on
you.”

“Oh, you get used to it,”
Violet answered glibly. “Every house has them over there.”

“Did you go to school?” I
asked.

“No,” she answered, “there was
a school for foreigners, until it closed down. Then my mother
arranged home schooling for us. It was okay, just a bit boring with
only Theo for company. ”

“What’s Theo like?” I ventured
to ask.

“Well, he looks like me, said
Violet. “Blond hair, blue eyes, although taller. Put it this way,
he never has a problem attracting women. Not that he’ll be
interested in the girls here. It’ll take a very special girl to
catch Theo’s eye.”

My interest was aroused
immediately, although I doubted very much he’d notice me. For a
start, he was two years older and I guessed a lot more
sophisticated. He was obviously very handsome and while I was
passably pretty, I could never be described as beautiful, certainly
not in Violet’s league. Nonetheless, I was intrigued and couldn’t
wait to meet him or, as was more likely, admire him from afar.

“Have you moved in to Hartswell
Hall?” I asked Violet. “It’s just no-one’s mentioned a family
living there and turning it into a luxury hotel. Only this morning,
I heard a rumour that a local rock star was interested in buying
it.”

“We’re in the process of moving
in,” explained Violet. “The sale has just gone through and there’s
a lot of work to be done on the house and grounds before we can
open it as an hotel.”

“It sounds very exciting,” I
said. “I’ve only ever seen Hartswell Hall from the outside, but it
looks like a fabulous place.”

“You must come round and have a
look.…” Violet started to say, then hesitated. “Well, I’ll have to
check with my mother and father first. I’m not sure they want
people seeing inside until all the work’s done. It’s a bit of a
mess at the moment.”

The bell for the next lesson
sounded and any thoughts of looking round Hartswell Hall were put
to one side, as we made our way to History, with the world’s most
boring teacher, Mr Greaves. I sat next to Tash, who muttered:
“Enjoy break time with Blondie?” before studiously reading her
History course book for the entire lesson, in a way that was most
unlike her.

At the end of the lesson, she
gathered up her books and disappeared through the classroom door
before I’d even realised she was gone. I saw her walking down the
corridor with Seth, heading for the cafeteria, and was aware that
there had been a major and unpleasant shift in our friendship. It
didn’t make me feel good, but I had no time to dwell on it, because
Violet was there at my elbow, smiling her radiant smile and asking
if I’d like to have an early lunch. Being in her company was like
bathing in brilliant sunshine. It made me feel alive, relaxed and
energised all at the same time, and I was soon engrossed in her
stories of Egypt and a lifestyle I could only imagine.

That afternoon, we shared the
same classes and she sat next to me on the bus home. I vaguely
noticed Tash sitting with Seth towards the back of the bus, but
Violet pulled me into a seat at the front.

“Come on, let’s sit here,” she
said. I sat where she indicated, feeling as if the situation was
out of my control.

“Where’s your brother?” I
asked. “Wasn’t he at college?”

“No, he couldn’t come today,”
she answered. “He’ll start tomorrow. You’ll probably meet him.”

When the bus stopped outside
Hartswell Hall, Violet got up and flashed another of her radiant
smiles. “My stop. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

I watched her walk up the drive
way, a jacket thrown nonchalantly over her arm, her beautiful
golden hair catching the afternoon sunshine. She seemed to shimmer,
barely disturbing the air as she moved, and as the bus started up
again, I felt strangely dreamlike and serene.

My stop was next and I was
barely aware of Tash and Seth walking past me down the centre
aisle. As he passed, Seth turned to me. “Are you getting off, Em?
It’s our stop. What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” I murmured, “I’m
right behind you.” I quickly followed them off the bus.

“Have you and Tash had a
disagreement?” asked Seth, “It’s not like you two to avoid each
other.”