Eternal (3 page)

My voice faltered. Two people in the shadows of the tack room broke away from each other with a guilty start.

One of them was a tal boy with hair the color of ripe corn—

Josh Parker. And the other one was Evie.

Oh—Sarah! I was just going to look for you.”

Evie stepped forward and threw her arms around me, but for an instant I felt a cold sluice of disappointment that Evie had arrived at school and sought out Josh before she had found me. And what had they been doing, huddled together in this hidden corner? Had she forgotten Sebastian already? The next moment I blamed myself for being so unkind. I was being total y oversensitive. I had no right to judge Evie. Nothing mattered except our friendship.

I hugged her back.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Evie. Where’s Helen? Miss Scratton told me you were arriving together.”

“We did, about ten minutes ago. Helen said she was feeling suffocated after being stuck for hours in the train and then the taxi. She’s gone for a walk down to the vil age to get some fresh air before unpacking.”

“Should she real y have gone on her own?”

“Of course, why not? Our year is al owed to leave the school grounds on a Sunday.”

That wasn’t quite what I had meant. I was thinking of the hidden dangers that could be lurking al around Wyldcliffe.

“Evie, I’d better go,” Josh said. “I’ve got tons to do to get al the horses settled in for the night. See you later, Sarah,”

he added casual y, pushing past me on his way out. I experienced the familiar ache as his body brushed against mine. He paused at the door and nodded to Velvet, who was staring at him appreciatively, then spoke to Evie again. “So, tomorrow after school?” Josh’s voice was warm and eager, as though ful of secret happiness. I had never seen anyone so clearly and hopelessly in love—but not with me. Of course not. “Say, five o’clock, Evie?”

Evie looked slightly self-conscious, but she smiled back at him. “Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.”

He left, and there was an awkward silence. My Wyldcliffe training in perfect social manners came to the rescue. “Evie, this is a new girl, Velvet Romaine. I’ve been showing her around. She’s going to be in our class. Velvet, this is my best friend Evie Johnson.”

“Hi there,” Velvet drawled. “Where did you find him? I thought this place was strictly al -female.”

“Josh isn’t a student here,” Evie explained. “He works in the stables sometimes, and helps his mother give the riding lessons.”

Josh wasn’t just Evie’s riding instructor. He was crazy about her, just as I had been crazy about him for so long.

He had lived in Wyldcliffe al his life and knew some of its secrets, and had learned about Evie’s connection with Sebastian and the coven. But Josh hadn’t been frightened off by what seemed like an impossible situation. He had stayed loyal to Evie through everything and was here for her now, reassuringly devoted and grounded and sane.

Not only that, he was pretty good-looking, which Velvet couldn’t fail to notice.

“He can give me a lesson anytime.” Velvet glanced provocatively from under her glossy fringe. “Or maybe I could teach him a thing or two.”

Evie’s smile faded, and she looked annoyed. “So are you the Velvet Romaine? The one in al the magazines?”

“The one with the famous parents and the dysfunctional childhood and drug problems and the unsuitable boyfriends? Yeah, that one.” Velvet’s dark eyes flashed with resentment.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—,” Evie began.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m used to it. Like they say, I don’t give a damn.”

I stepped in hastily. “I’d better take you to the dorm, Velvet, so you can change into your uniform. And then can we talk before supper, Evie? We could walk down to meet Helen coming back from the vil age. Have you heard that Miss Scratton is the new High Mistress? Did you know?”

“Mmm . . . yes, some of the other girls were talking about it. . . .” Evie tore her gaze away from Velvet and turned to me. “See you at the front door in a few minutes?

I’l wait for you there.”

“Okay, great. Come on, Velvet, we’l have to be quick.”

We left the stable yard and entered the main school by one of the many side doors. I hurried down an echoing corridor, and soon we arrived back at the black-and-white-tiled entrance hal . The grand marble staircase swept up to the higher floors, and I led the way.

“The second floor is where the mistresses live and have their common room,” I told Velvet. “If you need to see the housekeeper, or go to the infirmary, that’s on the second floor too. The dorms are al up on the third floor.”

“I hate dorms. I hate having to share a room.”

As we climbed the winding steps, I wondered how on earth Velvet would settle at Wyldcliffe. So many people had been hurt by the place: Agnes, Laura, Helen, Evie—

even poor little Harriet, who had been control ed and made use of by Mrs. Hartle the term before. They were like birds flying through a storm, unable to escape the spel of this strange val ey. And now a thought cut through me: It would be my turn soon.

“So your mom came to school here?” Velvet asked.

“And your gran?”

“Both my grandmothers, actual y,” I replied with a rueful smile. “And my great-grandmother before that. I’m afraid I’m Wyldcliffe through and through.”

“So your family must be kind of posh, what with your grandmother being Lady Thingamajig and al that.”

“People wil be much more impressed that your dad’s a rock star and your mother’s a famous model than they are by anyone in my family. Everyone says that Amber Romaine is one of the most beautiful people on the planet, don’t they?”

“Yeah, they do, especial y Amber,” Velvet replied sourly.

“She’s her own biggest fan.”

I was a bit surprised to hear Velvet talk like that about her mother. I didn’t want to pry, but for an instant, Velvet had dropped the mask of her cynical pose and I had caught a glimpse of her unhappiness. “So, don’t you two get on or something?” I asked.

Velvet shrugged. “It’s not exactly a secret that we clash.

Why do you think she’s packed me off to so many boarding schools? She got on better with my sister, Jasmine. But she’s dead.” Velvet glared at me, chal enging me to respond. But there was nothing much I could say, beyond the old clichés.

“I heard about it—I’m real y sorry.”

“Yeah. Anyway, Amber and I are probably too alike. And having a teenage daughter around isn’t real y on her agenda. Makes her look old, I guess. We’re always fighting. Every time we have a fight, Dad tries to make up for it by buying both of us masses of stuff. Funny, though, al his money can’t actual y stop her from hating me.”

I was kind of shocked. I love my mother dearly, and even though there are some things I can’t share with her—secret hopes and dreams—she is always there in the background, always loving and supportive. When I am with my friends at school I don’t talk about her much, as I am acutely conscious that Evie’s mother is dead and Helen’s mother, Mrs. Hartle, has brought her nothing but misery.

And here was Velvet now, angry with her mother, talking of hatred.

“She can’t hate you, she’s your mother—”

“Whatever.” Velvet switched back to her earlier flippant manner. “So tel me about these snobby grandmothers of yours.”

“They aren’t snobby,” I said, thrown back on the defensive. “My dad’s mother just happens to be Lady Fitzalan, but she’s total y down-to-earth. She’s a typical Englishwoman, mad about horses and dogs and her garden, that’s al .” Then I laughed reluctantly. “Okay, my other grandmother, on the Talbot-Travers side of our family, was pretty stuck-up. But her own mother, my great-grandmother, wasn’t born into privilege. She was cal ed Maria, and she was an orphaned Gypsy child who was adopted by wealthy people.”

“Real y? A Gypsy? That’s real y cool.” At least this was one thing that Velvet and I could agree on. “So you’ve got Gypsy blood?” She scrutinized my features as though sizing them up for some kind of modeling assignment.

“Yeah, I can see that now—you’ve got the dark, curly hair and that kind of natural, outdoor look—”

“Mmm . . . maybe,” I murmured in reply. But the connection I felt with Maria went deeper than any superficial chance of hair color or looks.

I had often thought about my great-grandmother and felt her presence in my life. I was drawn to any scrap of information I could find out about Maria and her Romany family. Perhaps it seems odd, but I felt some kind of spiritual bond with them. Maria had been sent by her adoptive parents to Wyldcliffe long ago, and sometimes I felt as though she was watching over me at school, as though we actual y knew each other and had some secret understanding. Sounds impossible, I know. But when I had met Cal, a young Traveler, the term before, it seemed that the Romany world was opening up to me at last. For a short time I had begun to believe that the secret loneliness that had always brooded under my oh-so-calm exterior might be healed. Of course, I knew that I was lucky, real y. I had a great family and home. I had my horses and friends.

I loved the land around me and the earth under my feet, and I would be faithful to my gifts of the Mystic Way. But I secretly wanted more. I wanted to have someone special, who real y understood everything about me. Was I being greedy?

As Velvet fol owed me up the steps to the third floor, I thought of my dream, of those eyes looking into mine, ful of warmth. I remembered the way Cal had talked to me, as if I real y mattered. I remembered his watchful eyes and his quick, rare laugh. I remembered the feeling of connection between us. But Cal’s family had moved on, away from Wyldcliffe, and I had been left behind. Cal had told me that he would see me again and had promised to write, but I hadn’t heard anything. He didn’t even have a cel phone, so there was no way I could get in touch with him. He would be far away by now.

My heart suddenly felt so weary. I had thought that I could trust Cal, but it seemed that he had forgotten me.

And now that I was back at school, the old nagging disappointment that Josh regarded me as nothing more than a friend—a real y nice girl, good old Sarah—was creeping over me again. But I forced myself to walk briskly down the door-lined corridor, tel ing myself off for being weak and self-indulgent. After al , I had something more important than a schoolgirl romance. I had friends, true deep friends: my sisters, Evie, Helen, and Agnes. That was what was important to me, not fal ing in love. That’s what I told myself, and tried to believe.

I opened a door that led into a plain, bare room. It was smal er than some of the Wyldcliffe dorms, with only three narrow beds, but it was furnished in the same austere style as the rest. “Your bed is at the end, under the window, next to mine. Look, the porter has brought your bags up already. Ruby Rogerson has the other bed. She’s a nice girl. Very quiet, bril iant at math. Caroline Woodford used to be in this dorm, but her parents have moved to Australia and she’s gone with them.”

Velvet stared around the stark white room and exclaimed in disgust, “My God, it’s like a prison! No, it’s worse. At least in prison you’re al owed to put up pictures on the wal s. At my other boarding schools we could decorate our dorms. This is so—so cold and weird. It’s like they expect us to be like nuns or something.”

“This is Wyldcliffe. They do things differently here.”

Velvet sank down onto her bed, and for a moment I sensed that her despair was genuine. It wasn’t about sharing a room, or not being al owed to put up some Metal ica poster; it was about being left here al alone by her parents. For al her celebrity connections, she had been dumped at Wyldcliffe by her mother, who was too beautiful and busy to care for a difficult teenage daughter. I went over to Velvet and gently touched her on the shoulder.

“You said I was good,” I murmured. “I’m not real y, not so much. But I do want to help you if I can. Remember that.”

Velvet pul ed away impatiently. “I’m perfectly okay.” She began grabbing stuff out of her Louis Vuitton suitcases, scattering clothes al over her bed. “If I’m going to wear this repulsive uniform, I’d better get on with it. Aren’t you going to meet your friend, the one with the gorgeous red hair? I got the feeling she didn’t like me very much.”

“Evie’s had a hard time lately,” I began, automatical y protective. “She’s been through a lot. She lived with her grandmother, but she died and so Evie had to come here, and it’s not been easy—”

“Yeah, whatever. She just doesn’t want me messing with her stable boy property. I can see why he’s keen on her, though; she’s stunning, like a kind of Victorian mermaid.

Hey—she looks a bit like Lady Agatha in that freaky old painting the principal was on about.”

“Lady Agnes . . . um . . . do you think so? Gosh, look at the time, it’s getting late.”

“It’s okay, go downstairs.” Velvet busied herself with her clothes. “I’l be fine.”

“Wil you find your way to the dining hal ?”

“I found my way round Manhattan last New Year’s Eve when I was stoned out of my mind, so I think I can manage.” She stopped tugging at her cases for a minute and looked up at me. “Look, Sarah, you don’t have to be good and nice and pretend that you like me or want to look after me. I don’t need you and I don’t need anyone else. I just want to get out of here, and I usual y get what I want, whatever it takes. Don’t get in my way.”

I felt strangely exposed and foolish as I stood there, as if she knew more about me than could be possible and that her warning went deeper than her words. It seemed to me that Velvet had a bitter anger inside her that would poison anyone who got too close, and I found myself wishing that she hadn’t come to Wyldcliffe. There was nothing I could do about her, though, or her problems. I had other things to worry about.

Leaving Velvet in the dorm, I hurried down the marble stairs. Evie would be waiting for me by now. But when I got to the entrance hal , there was no sign of her. I opened the front door and stood for a moment on the worn stone step, looking down the drive. The late afternoon sun was fading in a hazy glow of gold. Blackbirds were beginning their evening song. The hil s that ranged around the ancient Abbey seemed so peaceful, but they had been forged by gigantic upheavals: glaciers and landfal s and earthquakes. What new shocks and upheavals might be waiting for us in this apparently peaceful landscape?