Exchanging a glance, the two girls walked behind him down the stairs. The morning light was unforgiving – Allie could see how Rachel had attempted to cover her black eye with makeup and failed. The powder only made the marks on her skin more obvious.
Allie’s wounded left arm was held tight against her chest in a sling. She’d had to cut the sleeve off her blouse to accommodate the thick bandages. She could only imagine how they must look to a stranger but their escort hadn’t raised an eyebrow when he saw them.
At the foot of the stairs, he opened a door and they stepped out on to the tarmac. The air was cool and damp. Allie’s nose wrinkled at the acrid smell of jet fuel.
Ahead of them, Lucinda’s private jet gleamed silver on the runway. At any other time she would have been thrilled at the chance to ride in it. But this wasn’t any other time.
They were running away.
Lucinda had explained it simply on the phone. ‘Until we establish who the spy is, the school isn’t safe for you.’
‘But where am I going?’ Allie had asked.
‘I’m not telling you or anybody else that information,’ Lucinda said. ‘You will find out when the plane lands. This has all become too dangerous, Allie.’
Allie, who now had fifteen new stitches in her body to remember Nathaniel by, knew this already. But she wasn’t going without a fight.
‘I’m not leaving the others,’ she’d said stubbornly. ‘What about them? It’s dangerous for them, too.’
‘It’s not them Nathaniel wants,’ Lucinda said. ‘It’s you. And if I can get you out of the picture I think it will make them safer, at least for a while.’
‘But why can’t they all just come with me?’ Allie had asked, not giving up.
Lucinda’s reply had been simple. ‘Because it’s easy to hide two people. It’s harder to hide six.’
She said she was sending Rachel with her so she wouldn’t be lonely and also to act as a tutor. Raj would coordinate their security.
Ahead of them, the plane’s door swung open; its stairs unfolded like an insect’s legs, stretching down to the runway.
In silence the two girls followed the uniformed man to the plane.
Inside, it was all luxury. The cabin’s twelve armchairs were upholstered in buttery leather dyed a tasteful shade of taupe. The furniture wouldn’t have been out of place in an upscale hotel or a fine office. The jet had a clean scent of leather and furniture polish – nothing like the commercial jets Allie remembered from family holidays.
Allie and Rachel sat where they were told, facing each other across a polished walnut table. A flight attendant brought them glasses of iced orange juice and Allie watched the beads of condensation gather on the glass and fall like rain.
Her arm ached and she touched it gingerly. The doctor had given her painkillers but she hadn’t taken any yet. She knew they’d make her sleepy and she wanted to know everything that was happening – she needed to stay alert.
Most of all, she wanted to know where they were going.
The engines roared into life.
Across the table, Rachel looked tired and scared. Allie reached out her good hand; Rachel took it and squeezed it lightly.
‘You OK?’ Allie asked.
Rachel nodded. ‘Fine… just…’ She made a vague gesture that said, ‘All this.’
Allie knew what she meant. It had all happened so fast. There hadn’t been time to process it. There wasn’t even a chance to say goodbye properly. Zoe would be so upset when she found out they were gone. Nicole was still in the infirmary. And Carter and Sylvain… they’d all risked their lives to save her last night. And now she was leaving them behind.
Leaping on to the plane just before the doors closed, Raj strode to their table. ‘Are you both ready?’
They gave dutiful nods.
He rested a hand on Rachel’s shoulder before heading up to the cockpit to sit with the pilots and, a few minutes later, the wheels began to turn. The plane sped down the runway with a kind of eagerness – as if it couldn’t wait to be in the air.
But all Allie wanted to do was stay.
In physics they’d studied the way aeroplanes take off. There’s something called the point of no return, when the plane’s speed is so high, and the amount of runway ahead so limited, there’s no physical way to stop safely. The plane must either take flight or crash.
That’s what this journey felt like – like they had to go. They had no other choice.
The jet was so powerful, so fleet, when the wheels left the tarmac Allie barely felt it but she gripped the edge of the table as the world dropped away. The green English countryside spread out beneath them, with its ancient hedgerows and castles, small villages and busy motorways, all fading slowly behind a curtain of grey clouds, and then disappearing entirely.
Allie saw it through a haze of unshed tears.
There was no going back now.
If you are reading this book you are one of my favourite people in the world and I would like to thank you so much for coming with me on this journey so far. Your emails, letters and tweets fill my days with joy. I am forever in your debt. Thank you.
I want to thank the amazing Madeleine Milburn, who is both my friend and the best agent a girl could ever have. Were it not for her, there is no way this book would be in your hands right now. She makes things happen. Maddy, you are my hero.
Huge thanks also go to my international team of amazing editors and translators. First, to the team at Atom/Little, Brown in the UK – especially the fabulous and ludicrously talented Samantha Smith. Sam – I will follow you to the ends of the earth. Thank you for everything. Also to my French team at Collection R/Robert Laffont – led by the brilliant Glenn Tavennec, who is just as suave and calm under pressure as you’d hope – and my incredible German group at Oetinger, led by the unflappable and wonderful Doris Jahnsen. And to all my international publishers – thank you so much for your hard work! We are doing this together.
The first readers of this book are a group of my friends who do the difficult but so important thing of being honest with me. Laura Barbey, Kate Bell, Catriona Verner-Jeffries, and Hélène Rudyck, you are my muses. I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you all so much. Please read all my books for ever. In return, I will give you all the cupcakes.
To all the booksellers and librarians who have personally put my books into people’s hands – if I weren’t already married I’d want to marry you all. If it weren’t for people like you I’d never have read so there’s no way I could ever have written. You make people’s lives better. Thank you.
And, finally, to my patient, thoughtful husband, Jack, who reads my bad early drafts, helps me work out sticky plots, picks me up when I fall down, and convinces me not to give up when the going gets rough – thank you so much. I love you.