It was still dark when I woke up, though my desk lamp was on for some reason. I hadn't used it for days. It had also been angled away from the desk and into the far corner of the room. I was too warm and cosy to do anything about it though and simply stirred in my bed until I got comfortable again. I closed my eyes, but opened them again in a little confusion and a lot of wariness because early morning pranks on this corridor were becoming a thing.
"Chi?" I asked because out of her and Clara she was the one more likely to be awake at this time in the morning. Then again, Yelena was the one who'd pranked everyone else so far. "Yelena?"
"Morning, Grace," Mum said and I felt her weight dip the bed a little.
"Mum?" I asked. I ran a hand across my eyes and then propped myself up on my elbows. "What are you doing here?"
"We said we'd be back today," she smiled down at me, a dim figure against the dark background, and brushed some hair from my cheek. Bed hair was also a thing on this corridor and I generally had the worst.
"Yeah, but you didn't say you'd be here at," I looked around at my alarm clock, "seven in the morning." I looked around the room and saw that my camera was following me already. "With Tony. Morning."
"Morning," he said softly.
"Up you get," Mum said. "Dad's down stairs waiting for you. Master Clarke wouldn't let him up."
"That's because even he isn't allowed up here until we've all been down for breakfast unless there's a real emergency." I yawned again and sat up a bit more. "Ok, I'm up."
Mum squeezed my knee, kissed my forehead and then left me to get ready. I didn't normally have a shower in the morning, but I thought I might just have enough time to go for one and blow dry my hair before breakfast if I only spent five minutes in the shower.
I got out in four which was a miracle if ever I saw one.
Not long after we'd arrived we were asked if we had everything we needed our side of the house. The only thing we'd asked for was somewhere in the bathrooms where we could use hair dryers/curlers/straighteners so that we didn't wake each other up early in the morning. And by 'each other' I meant 'Chi'. I swear it was like that girl had an owl's hearing. She was at the top end of the corridor and someone could be using their dryer the other end and she'd still wake up. Now we had a hug vanity space with plugs all along it, a huge mirror above and it was somewhat decadent for a dormitory bathroom extra.
I wasn't the biggest fan of using heat on my hair, but occasionally I'd had to have early morning showers and everyone said that I could use their things so long as I didn't break them or it become regular habit. It hadn't. I liked sleeping more than showering. What had become regular habit was for people to leave their dryers and things out, but tidy, as carrying them to and from their rooms was apparently too much effort when an early shower was had. I actually agreed. I stood a few sockets down from Hope (to allow elbow space) and debated for a moment.
"Did I see your parents last night?" she asked. She was from Wales and had an accent that was reminiscent of Dad's before he picked up a mostly London one.
"Yeah," I grinned. "They're visiting for the weekend."
"Why?" she asked and twirled some of her red hair around a curling wand.
"Epic tale of a story short..." I sighed and wondered how to explain it in a sentence. "We've had some pretty, ah, long term issues that nearly broke us apart completely. I think Master Clarke thinks we need to reconnect."
"Sounds great. Them being here I mean. Is that why you were crying the other day?"
I nodded and pulled a brush, my own, through my hair before it knotted again. "Yeah."
She nodded and picked up another strand of hair to add a light curl to. "I know you're pretty close to Ben, but all of us girls are here for you, you know."
I nodded again. "Thank you. But things are getting better so... yeah. How's things with you?"
She shrugged. "Parents are pretty pleased with how I'm getting on here. We're going to Australia for Christmas." She scrunched her nose up whether because she burned her fingers or because of what she said next I wasn't sure. "We're spending the day on the beach."
"Weird," I said. "Can I use your dryer?"
"Sure," she said and passed it over. "Making an effort for them?"
"I just don't want my head to turn into ice as we go to class."
She laughed and we stopped talking because the dryer was too loud to talk over this early in the morning. It took about twenty minutes to get my hair nearly dry and by then I was too fed up with using the dryer to finish the job. By this time Hope was putting perfume on but hung around to talk to me about an essay problem she was having in English Language. As we talked it over I put my hair into a twisted crown. When I was done and the essay conversation was over, Hope got her hair spray out and insisted that she put a little bit of it on to keep fly-aways down. I wasn't sure it was necessary, but I let her do it anyway and then we headed down for breakfast after picking up all the things we needed for our day.
Saturdays were, thank goodness, shorter than every other day of the week. Four lessons, no designated prep lesson to make up the fifth, and allowed to do whatever we wanted for the entirety of the weekend once sports and clubs were over. It was raining outside so we were allowed to ditch our ridiculous hats in exchange for our umbrellas.
When I got downstairs Mum and Dad were talking to Ben, Clara, Chi, Tarq and Simeon, though Ben was doing most of the talking. I got my breakfast and then sat with everyone at the table plonking myself between my parents. The conversation dropped off.
"Let me see your hand, Grace," Mum said.
It was still bandaged after the skin was cut off and there were still a million rose thorn scrapes all over both of them. They weren't sore anymore, thank goodness. I swapped my spoon into my right hand, weird, and let her look at my left. Having an injured left hand had sort of been a nightmare and writing had been painful, but I hadn't complained about it at all.
"Must be a plus having a brain surgeon for a mother," Simeon said. I wasn't sure he knew everything that was going on, but I knew he was making polite conversation so I didn't grouch at him. Mostly I didn't grouch so Mum didn't feel bad.
"Yeah. Never have to actually go to the doctors," I said.
"Not that you ever get ill," Dad said.
"Good for some," Clara grumbled and pushed her hardly touched bowl of cereal away from herself.
Mum looked up from my hand which she'd been carefully prodding and flexing. Then Clara got that look, dashed from the room straight into the toilets that were close by. For a moment we all just looked at the door she'd disappeared through. Then Chi got up.
"I'll go see how she is," she said.
"You go as well, Mum," I said.
She followed Chi.
"Anyone else feel ill?" Dad asked with a little humour.
"If we start talking about people throwing up I'll get ill," Tarq said.
"Ladies, gents," Master Clarke called over the chatter. We all quietened down. Announcements during breakfast were quite a rare thing. "Due to the weather, girls – leave your umbrellas here. It's too windy for them. Everyone can wear coats and put your things in waterproof bags."
We actually cheered. We were going to look like normal students for the first time all year. Such was the excitement at this prospect everyone hurried to eat their breakfast and then dashed upstairs. I was pretty sure Dad thought it was at least a little amusing, the viewers would think this was a ridiculous thing to get excited about and our housemaster probably thought it was hilarious.
It didn't take me long to get ready at all. I grabbed my waterproof. It was purple, had a hood and was practically rebellious and anarchistic for this place. It even had reflector strips on the elbows. My rucksack had an interstellar space view on it full of bright colours and sparkly bits. It had got me through my GCSEs and I'd had to sew the straps back on a couple of times, but I loved it and didn't care that everyone else probably had sensible bags.
Um... I was wrong. The hallways and streets were a sea of bright colours, different styles, someone had feathers on their bag and someone had a flashing light going. There were stripes, polka dots, flowers, comic themes, bags that had been decorated by art students with a flare for rebellion. It was a wonder to behold in the drab streets which were normally uniformly black and white with only a small splash of colour from the Pops, the silver buttons of the Sixth Form Select and bits of grey that house captains were allowed to wear.
"This is great," I grinned.
"Well, there isn't a uniform code for coats and bags since we don't actually get to use them that often," Tarq explained. "They can't tell us of so..."
"I like it," I said. "Looks a bit like Park."
As much as I'd hated the school, there hadn't been a uniform or even really much of a dress code. It had been somewhat liberating.
"I'm down here, see you for lunch," he said and hurried off to his maths class.
"Where are we headed?" Mum asked.
"Literature. I think we're getting our coursework titles today."
"Grace, running late," Ben called and grabbed one of my hands to hurry me along. He was pulling Chi by the other hand. Clara had been sent to bed.
Mum and Dad hurried with us and we skidded into English just in time. Our coats and bags had to be left by the door so that they didn't drip all over the floor and we were instructed to quickly take our seats. Mum and Dad squeezed onto the bench Chi and I were on with Gregory and then the class started. We were actually told we had to come up with our own essay titles and had to pick another book or play to compare and contrast to Dracula and Macbeth. We had to keep in mind that we were looking at the Gothic as well. I spent the whole lesson brainstorming titles whilst Mum and Dad looked through my folder and read the essays I'd already done.
By the end I'd decided that I wanted to look at character archetypes of the genre and how they'd changed since Macbeth, but I had no idea what modern Gothic novels were out there that didn't include vampires.
"You could do Aristotle again," Dad said as we walked over to art. "And look at the differences in the tragic hero or villain throughout the development of The Gothic."
"Yeah," I said with a sigh, "But I don't want to do Aristotle again unless I have to. And I still need a modern Gothic novel."
"Google it," he said.
"I'm going to have to. Here we are."
Glad to get into the dry art building we took our hoods off and then noticed a coat rack with a drip tray under it near the door. We left our coats there and then we headed up to my art room. Mum and Dad gasped as they looked at the huge, open space and its white walls saying that it was like a real gallery. My div master came over and introduced herself to my parents, said that he'd been expecting them and asked if they'd like to see my body of work.
"We'd love to," Mum smiled.
"Great! We'll talk about how well she's doing in class as well," Master Woodward smiled and ran a hand through her damp hair. "She's certainly getting top marks for weather proof hair. Go get your canvas out, Grace. We'll pop over in a few minutes."
We were working on action paintings using watercolours. We'd had a few technique lessons from which I'd learned only a little compared to everyone else. I'd been using watercolours for years and had art books on the subject. It was another way to pass the time that I'd enjoyed. Everyone else was more used to acrylics, oils and gouache. I was sure I was going to be learning a lot when we got around to those. The other thing with our action paintings were that they had to be life size or larger and about something we did around the school that reflected different aspects of school life. We were creating a gallery of Eton across the art department and all year groups. F block were doing still lifes of classrooms, E block had the joy of the outdoors, D block had the working environment, my block had sport and relaxation action shots, and B block had buildings and perspectives. Each person in each class had a season to work with as well.
With my warm palate already been showcased in my self portrait, I'd been given winter to show a contrast in my abilities. There were seven people in my class and everyone had something different – dinner time, rugby, people sat in lounges talking, rowing, music and someone else was doing a picture of a group of his friends getting an exasperated telling off after tracking mud through the house. That hadn't really left me much to work with. I'd wanted to do a picture of me and my friends in a lounge, homework abandoned and all of us sprawled out. Apparently that wasn't showing a good work ethic and no amount of reasoned arguing to the contrary had swayed Master Woodward.
It had taken hours of thought and a lot of rough sketches before I came up with what I was doing. I was pretty happy with the idea though. The canvas was pretty huge and probably bigger than the finished piece would be, but that was ok. Once it was dry it would be easy to reframe. I also needed a ladder to do the top bits which I was blurring out to darkness both to give more depth of atmosphere, a photo like quality and it was just easier than doing full on detail all the way to the edges.
It was a look inside Master MacLachlan's lounge, the fire was going as was normal now, and there were some oil lamps on as well. I had Master MacLachlan sat in his chair, a soft smile of contentment on his face, and Ben was stood up passing him a cup of tea hence why the canvas was so tall. I was sat down pouring tea for me and Ben. It was a regular occurrence, so regular in fact that I almost didn't need the photo I'd taken to be able to paint it. The main difference to normal was that Ben and I were muddy from working in the garden and had a little dirt under our nails and our hair was a little wet. By the fire our socks and shoes were drying and giving off small plumes of steam.
After taking the photo I'd had to measure everything, an activity which had baffled our mentor and drove him a little scatty. I'd worked quickly but mostly I was using the furniture as a reference point for everything else. I'd asked one of the photography club members to take the photo, get the light levels on the camera right and all that technical stuff. He'd given me a photo size version of it as well as an A3 size because he thought it might be useful. He'd been right with that. I had it printed out in the highest quality our printers did and used it as my reference for pretty much everything. I'd done a little photo manipulation on it, under his supervision since I had no idea what I was doing, to get a blurred edges effect which I was basing the edges of the painting on.
To draw you into the photo, and make my life really difficult, the idea with the blurry bits was to have them angled into the photo instead of spreading out from it, so that it closed the picture in more and give the sense of going through a door and into a room. Now that I was looking at what I already had – just a sketch as we'd only started the project last week – I was beginning to think that I might scrap that part of the idea.
"Hey, Jason, you're good at this," I softly called over to him. "Can I borrow you a minute?"
"Sure," he said and stepped away from his super long canvass.
He was doing the rowing picture and had two boats on the water. It was the C block eights training session he was doing. He'd come along one afternoon and had been taking photos the entire time both from the bank and on the water. The one he'd chosen was when our teams were in the same frame, but only half of each team in it. All of us had gritted teeth and it was obvious we'd been going at it for a while. I was one of the unlucky people in that I was only half on the canvas and didn't look particularly great. He'd been given the autumn theme and he had a few reference photos of autumn weather looking at that exact spot. He'd been trawling school archives with the archivist for hours looking for them. He told me that in the end he asked my camera crew for a still of some of their footage.
"What's up?" he asked.
I explained my idea referring to the photos I had and pointing to the canvas. He listened patiently and titled his head a few times before crossing his arms and tapping his foot a little as he thought about it.
"I'd probably find a margin where you're happy to end the 'solid painting' and then see what it looks like. Then begin to blur it from there but don't do the drawing in thing you were on about. Then if you don't like it just give it a smaller frame," he said. "I think the directional blur thing will over complicate it and make it look fancier than it is. It's a pretty simple painting in terms of action business. Don't overcomplicate it."
I nodded. "That's a good point. Thanks. How's yours coming along?"
"Well I've finished drawing it now. I'm pretty much where you are. Though I'm really glad I was able to talk her out of making me have some branches in the background. It would have been huge as well as long."
"You putting leaves in the water and having tree reflections?" I asked and looked around at his painting. "I like it. Good way to bring in the season but keeping the focus on the boats."
"On you, you mean," he joked.
I scoffed. "I'm hardly in it and I look like I'm having a baby."
He barked out a laugh which he quickly bit down.
"Grace, Jason," Master Woodward warned. "Get to work."
We did so, both laughing a little. I turned back to my canvas, picked up a brush and palate and chose my starting point. I liked to start with eyes when I was doing people and I always chose the most important person in the painting to begin with. In this case it was Master MacLachlan. I wanted him to look homely as well was worldly and travelled and he had to have the depth of age his ninety four years gave him, but also the sprightliness of his spirit. I debated it a moment and decided the age could come through in his face and the youthfulness a spark in his eyes.
I'd moved onto his eyelids when Mum, Dad and Master Woodward walked over. I finished the little bit I was doing on the right eye and then stepped back so the whole canvas could be seen.
"That's great!" Dad said and put an arm around my shoulders. "How long is it going to take?"
"Until Christmas at least," I said. "I'm going to have to put some extra hours in."
"You won't be the only one," Master Woodward said. "I'm setting aside a couple of hours every day for students to come in without having to be bothered by club people. And the building's going to be open at the weekends with loose supervision."
"Home sweet home it is then," I said.
"It's looking good so far," she said. "I've got to check on everyone else. Excuse me."
"She said you'd explain the project," Mum said.
I mixed the next colour I needed as I talked and carefully began applying it to a shaded area of my mentor's face. I didn't explain in great detail as I was too busy focusing on what I was doing. After that I forgot that they were there and only stopped working when they told me everyone else was packing away.
Through music they sat back and listened to me learning a piece on the guitar as we were doing a pop music unit – ugh – and then it was a quick dash to get dinner after which I had dance, the last lesson of my day.
"Spoke to Onion earlier," Ben said as we were getting cups of soup. It used to be served in bowls but we'd asked the staff to put it in big cups so that we could more easily dash about talking to the people we needed to talk to during the short break. "River's running too fast to go on. I'm thinking I might go straight over to Master MacLachlan's after history."
I nodded. "We should probably check the garden over before the dog arrives."
He nodded. "Yeah that's my thinking. I googled Scottish Wolfhounds. You know what an Irish Wolfhound looks like?"
"Oh you're kidding me," I sighed. "Really?"
"A little smaller, but yeah. Pretty much the same."
"I wish we could talk him out of this."
"What's wrong?" Mum asked.
"Master MacLachlan's crazy notion of retaining his youth," I muttered.
Ben explained what our mentor's idea was and I told them that he was the man I'd been painting earlier. Her voice went high pitched when she asked, "Seriously?!"
"I used to have an Irish Wolfhound," she said. "Best dog ever, but absolutely mental."
"Except it tried to eat me," Dad said and rubbed his thigh.
Mum laughed. "You did break into my room at one in the morning. It was Valentines day –"
"Ugh," I went. "Do I want to hear the rest of this?"
"My dad dragged him out by the ear and slammed the door in his face," Mum said. "It was hilarious."
"Yes. Thank you for defending me back then," Dad said and rubbed his ear. "I had to walk all the way home in the snow. Five miles," he told me. "I got bronchitis."
"Nothing says romance like a germ infested cough," Mum said with a grimace.
They lightly bickered about that for a few more minutes. I went to get changed into my dance kit, packed some clothes to change into that I could do some gardening in and all but crashed into Ben when I went through the sister door.
"You ok?" he asked. "You scrambled sharpish."
I sighed. "It still weird. I've never seen them like that before."
"If you want to spend time with them I can go to Master –"
I shook my head. "Whilst we're in the garden he can chat their ears off. I love my parents, but I'm feeling the need for a bit of space. But I don't want to push them away either."
"Ok. If you're sure. You left your coat on the back of your chair," he said and held it up.
The back sister door slammed open and someone staggered in. We both frowned and then hurried over to it regardless of the rules about no boys allowed on this side of the house. Chi was slumped on the floor leaning on the door frame, soaked to the bone and shivering. I dropped my coat to the floor and dashed over to her as quickly as Ben did. She was pale, feverish and coughing.
"Should we get your mum?" he asked.
"Let's take her upstairs. She's got what Clara's got for a guess. No need to keep her in the cold," I said.
Ben nodded and picked her up. I picked up her things, shut the door and led Ben up to Chi's room. I had to fish her key out of her jacket pocket before we could get in.
"Put her on her chair," I said. "We'll only make her worse if we put her to bed in wet clothes. Go get Mum and Dame Clarke."
"Ok, I'll be right back," Ben said and rushed out.
When the door closed behind him I crouched in front of my friend. She was pale for a Japanese person anyway, but right now she was more grey than pale and her eyes were half closed. She retched. I grabbed her mostly empty bin and put it in front of her just in time. I worked to not throw up as well. It was the one bodily fluid I didn't deal with so well.
"It's ok," I said to try and distract my gag reflex.
She moaned pitifully and then threw up again. For a full minute. That was when Mum and Dame Clarke came through the door. I let Mum take over bin duty and hurried from the room instantly feeling better. I leaned against the wall, tipped my head back and let out a slow breath.
"What's going on?" Clara asked.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was back in pyjamas, her hair was in a sloppy ponytail and she was leaning on her doorframe. "Chi's got what you have. Go back to bed."
She nodded closed the door. Down the hall someone banged on their door and rattled the handle.
"Hello?" Bryony called. "Yelena, is this some prank? Let me out!"
I hurried over to her door. "Bry? What's up?"
"Grace?" she called. "I can't open the door."
"Let me try," I said.
I turned the knob, I juggled the door, I tried her key which she slipped under the door but that just got stuck. I tried it again paying more attention than before. I felt something crunch a little, the key jammed and nothing happened.
"Um... I'm going to have to get Master Clarke," I said. "Hang on."
"Ugh!" she groaned and probably threw her hands up in the air, a favourite gesture of hers when she was irritated by something. Generally that something was Sarah taking forever in the shower.
I hurried down the stairs aware that chambers was winding down. As I passed the dining hall I saw that Dad was laughing with Ben and Tarq. I took a fraction of a second to be glad that he was getting on with my friends and then knocked on my housemaster's door.
"Come in," he called. "Grace, is it important?" he asked and covered the mouth piece on the phone.
"Bry's locked in her room and I can't unlock it from the other side."
"Get Dame Clarke to –"
"She's looking after Chi who's throwing up."
He sighed but nodded. "I've got to go, Dean. It's all fun and games here... Will do." Dean was the first name of a few members of staff, one of them being the headmaster. Apparently the two didn't get along ever so well outside of the office.
"I've got her room key, Sir," I said and passed it to him.
He picked up the universal key and a cordless phone. "Is she ok in there?"
I nodded. "Just annoyed."
On the way up the stairs I explained what happened when you turned a key in the lock. He listened carefully and nodded a few times. Then he sighed and muttered something about the other side of the house being fine even though it was older. We got to her door and that was when Sarah and Rachel came up looking worse for ware.
"We've got doctor's notes," Rachel said. "We've got it too."
"Ok. I'll get Dame Clarke to look in on you in a minute," Sir said.
They went into their rooms. Sir looked at me.
"I've never had a stomach bug. I don't plan on getting one now."
"Good," he said. "Bryony, I'm going to try the door, ok?"
"Yeah," she called.
"Grace, get to class."
"Ok. See you later, Bry!"
I heard her mutter, "Hopefully."
Mum came out of Chi's room.
"How is she?" I asked as I walked over to her.
"Sleeping already."
"Ok. Let's go. I'm nearly running late."
I could have told her about Rachel and Sarah, but I knew that if I did, she'd want to stay and help. She was a doctor. The job and the instincts that came with it never really left you even if you left that world behind. I loved that she helped people all the time, but just this once I wanted to keep her to myself. Besides, Dame Clarke would only check on them afterwards anyway.
We hurried down the stairs, picked Dad up and then dashed to dance, the rain not quite as heavy as before.
"Oh good, you're here," Master Evans said when she saw me. "Half the class has the winter vomiting bug."
"Half the girls in my block have it," I said.
Josh, my dance partner, looked at me warily. We all laughed.
"I don't get ill," I said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Where's everyone else?" Mum asked.
"The class is only eight people," Master Evans said. "And we have two dance teachers. Each couple is getting some one on one today. Which is good. Grace, you need to tighten your elbows up a bit more. Warm up and then we'll go from the top."
The tango was a sexy dance, but mostly I just felt a bit awkward having to be pressed so close to a guy I didn't really know all that well. It was also awkward doing it in front of your parents. Especially when I could tell that Dad was watching Josh like a hawk.
"I'm so sorry," I said to him.
He shrugged. "If my daughter were with someone as good looking as me I'd be watching him too."
I laughed at his joke and we went from the top of the segment we were improving for a fifth time. It involved a lift, a near kiss, slow, sensual movement and a lot of touching.
"Good," Master Evan's said when the lesson was over. "Remember that for Monday and if you're still as tight –" Dad spluttered a cough. " – we'll advance you a bit further along." She smiled. "How about we show your parents the ballet piece we did, Grace."
I looked at Josh. He nodded and we got into position. It wasn't an especially long dance, but we were already tired from half an hour of intense work and by the time it was over I was feeling it. Mum and Dad applauded enthusiastically and cheered. Josh made me bow like a professional and then we were good to go. I grabbed a quick shower, changed into my casual clothes – the jeans I had given over to gardening and D.I.Y, a long sleeve black turtle neck jumper and the wellies I'd picked up during the week. I had to hot foot it out of the building so that I didn't get told off for not wearing uniform and then we took a more casual walk to Master MacLachlan's as the rain had finally stopped.
"Your dance was great," Mum said. "Really... emotive."
I laughed a little at her careful choice of words. Dad awkwardly cleared his throat and asked where we were going now.
"Master MacLachlan's."
"He's your PD teacher, right?"
I nodded. "We only have class with him once a week. Everyone else is still figuring out what life lesson he's trying to subtly teach us. I got last weekend. Ben and I come over quite frequently. He's still got a really sharp mind, but he is getting on now so he gets us to do D.I.Y and the more difficult of the cleaning chores. Sometimes all the cleaning chores. We also have to keep an eye on his heating because he won't call anyone out when it breaks. He's got this 'I survived a winter in foxholes fighting Gerries' attitude going on. His words not mine. But he's great. I think you'll like him."
"And the dog?" Mum asked.
"Is arriving tomorrow. I'm going to try and put it in my painting somehow."
The clouds opened up again and hammered down as much as it had been this morning and some wind picked up. We hurried the rest of the way to the house and arrived just a few minutes after Ben. His coat was on the stand by the door and was dripping wet.
"Hello!" I called through to the lounge as I took my coat off.
"Grace," Master MacLachlan smiled from the kitchen door. "Ah, Ben said you'd bring your parents over today. Go and help him in the shower and I'll tell a story or two that will make them chuckle."
"Ben's in the –"
"Fixing the shower," I pressed for Dad's benefit. "I've managed thus far without you protecting me from teenage boys, Dad. I think I can handle it." I dropped my bag to the floor and went up the narrow, creaky stairs faster than I'd so far dared too.
They wound up to the landing, a steep death trap if ever I saw one. I slipped on the top one, but caught myself before I fell completely. There wasn't much of a landing as there were only two rooms. The bedroom remained a mystery, but the bathroom I'd been in a few times. It was pretty poky, but it did the job and had enough room for a bath. Like most of the house it was painted white, but there were bits of memorabilia everywhere – souvenirs from all over the world, photos, model boats in abundance ranging from sailed navy boats through to yachts and a few army things. The bath was along the back wall and Ben was stood in it trying to get the shower head off the hose.
"What's up with it?" I asked.
He jumped and nearly slipped. "Hi."
"Hi. So what's up with it?"
"No idea. The taps aren't working either. How's things –"
"Let's just do this ok?" I said and turned a sink tap on. Nothing came out. "Are the kitchen taps working?"
He nodded. "I tried googling it, but the storm's messing up the signal."
"You mean, we're actually going to have to figure this one out ourselves and not rely on the internet?" I sighed. "We're going to be here forever."
"Let's think about it logically," he said and sat on the edge of the bath and left his feet in it. I sat along side him facing into the room. "It's only a problem with half the system, right?" I nodded. "So it's got to be something in the pipes as it's affecting both the bath and the sink, right?" I nodded. "So how do we get it out?"
"Depends what it is," I said. "And where it got in."
"It's a pretty internal system," he said. "All closed off and the only place that's easy to get to is the water tank."
"But if the problem is in the water tank wouldn't it affect the whole system?"
He shrugged and got out of the bath. "It's worth a look. Better than sitting here doing nothing."
He had a point. From listening to Clara tell stories about her house and its sometimes temperamental plumbing we both knew that old boilers and water tanks were kept in an airing cupboard which was normally at the top of the stairs. We opened the cupboard doors after asking James to move out the way of them, and peered inside. At the bottom was a huge tank radiating heat and had a pressure gauge on it. A little above that was a shelf that had warm towels on it and higher up still were a couple of black plastic tubs.
"Is there anything to stand on?" Ben asked.
"No."
"Ok. Leg up."
"What?" I asked.
He bent down a little and made a cradle with his hands which I supposed I was supposed to put my foot in.
"I'm still not going to be tall enough," I said.
He frowned a little. "You've really never done this?"
"Do I look like I've done this?"
He kept a smile to himself. "I'll lift you a little. Brace yourself with one hand on my shoulder and the other on the wall."
"You sure about this?" I asked.
"I've done this loads of times. You'll be fine. If not, your mum's a surgeon."
"Was," I said and put my foot in his hands.
"Was?"
"Yeah. She and Dad quit their jobs and are moving to the country."
"Whoa. That's... What are they going to do?"
"Can we just do this?" I asked and braced myself like he'd told me.
"Ok. One, two, three. Go," he said and lifted me.
As soon as I could grab onto the shelf that had the plastic tubs on it, I did.
"What do you see?" Ben asked.
I looked from one tank to the other checking them for similarities and differences. Then I shrugged. "They're just full of water. Nothing else in them," I said. "I suppose air could get in here though. There aren't any lids or anything. Let me down?"
He did so with another count down and soon enough I was back on the reliably sturdy floor. I trusted Ben, but people tired. Floors didn't.
"You know what's wrong and how to fix it, don't you?" I asked James who was smiling a little.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Master MacLachlan told me not to tell you though."
I scowled. Of course he had. All of this stuff, doing chores and D.I.Y was just another way for him to test us and help us learn as well as getting things around the house done. I didn't mind it really, but some help on this one would have been nice. So that I didn't have to see James' smug face as we puzzled it out, I went back into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath again. We decided that we were agreed that it was an air bubble – we didn't have anything else to go on – and puzzled it out in silent contemplation for probably about five minutes.
The only ideas we had were loosening the pipe connectors but I argued that that would raise the possibility of introducing more air into the system and making the problem worse. We were silent for a few more minutes.
Then I heard Mum laugh and the penny dropped.
"I've got it!" I exclaimed and hurried down the stairs and burst into the lounge. "Master MacLachlan, have you got a sandwich bag or something?"
He pulled one from his pocket. I didn't dare scowl at him no matter how much I wanted to as I took the bag from him. I hurried back up to the bathroom and pulled Ben's hair out of its tie.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"It's like hyperventilation," I said. "Sort of."
I attached the bag to the tap, tied it in place with Ben's hair tie and then turned the tap on.
"I don't get it," Ben said.
"When you hyperventilate, it's because there's too much oxygen in your system. You need to balance it out by introducing carbon dioxide which is why you need the paper bag – so that you breathe in the air you've just breathed out. The carbon dioxide levels rise and you eventually get back to a regular breathing pattern."
"Ok?"
"Well, there's too much air in this system too," I said. "And you can only get something out of the tap when its on, or open. But when you open a tap air can get in too. This way we stop air getting in so the only way things can flow is out. Pressure builds behind the air bubble and it will get forced out. At least, I think that's how this should work."
"Huh. That's pretty clever," he said. "So we just wait and hope for the best?"
I nodded.
He waited a beat before speaking again. "How have things been today?"
"I snapped at Dad earlier," I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "All the way though dance he was watching Josh like a hawk – we're doing the tango. And then Master MacLachlan said 'help Ben in the shower' and he took that the wrong way too."
"He's just looking out for you," he said softly. "Like any father would."
That made me smile a little and I felt some warmth spread through my heart. "I know. But I'm not used to it. It feels like he's smothering me."
"It'll only be for today and tomorrow. We're at boarding school remember?"
"Yeah."
"You said they're moving to the country?"
I nodded and told him everything that they'd told me yesterday from their telling off by Master Clarke, to everything we talked about in my room and how they tried to explain their behaviour and then their reasons for leaving the city. It felt really good to tell someone and get it off my chest. It was also just nice to be able to talk about my problems with someone. I was so used to bottling everything in that I was amazed at how much better I felt for sharing it.
"Sorry," I said after a short silence. "I know you're missing you dad and here I am waffling on about the Bennetts mark two."
"It's alri – agh!" he yelped.
The shower had come to life covering him in what must have been freezing cold water. He and jumped backwards and fell into the bath. I laughed so hard I nearly joined him. Meanwhile James darted into the room ready for action but a moment later laughed just as much as I was. I didn't help Ben as he struggled to get out of the bath. I just watched from where I was leaning against the wall near the door.
"Thanks," he muttered and finally climbed out of the bath.
"No problem," I managed to gasp out.
He turned the shower off and pulled the sandwich bag off the top. Then he took his t-shirt off. I stopped laughing mostly though surprise and watched him wring out his shirt. A cursory glance told me that rowing and working out had given him light musculature on his abs, lightly defined pecs and muscled arms. He got his dry jumper from the back of the door and pulled it on.
Mum came though the door, flapped me off the toilet and then threw up.
"Dad!" I called and left the room before I threw up as well.
He was already coming up the stairs and quickly slipped passed me to get to the bathroom. Ben followed me down stairs and we sat in the lounge.
"Squeamish, eh?" Master MacLachlan asked me. "You'll get over it when you have children."
"So when is the dog arriving tomorrow?" I asked him.
He smiled brightly at my discomfort. "In the morning sometime. But I don't want to see either of you here until Tuesday at the very earliest. He needs to settle in without interruption."
Ben and I looked at each other for a moment.
"If you need help with anything give us a call," Ben said. I figured it was the best we could do, but I still didn't like it.
"Oh Fergus and I will be just fine," he said.
"Grace," Dad said from the door. Mum was leaning against him and was trembling all over. "I need to get Mum home."
I nodded sad that the weekend had been cut short, but mostly expecting it. It was always more likely that Mum was going to get the bug than me since she'd helped Clara out too. "Ok. Bring Mum over here."
"I can walk you back to Walpole to get the car," Ben said.
Dad put Mum on the sofa opposite me and pulled his jumper over her. She was already nearly asleep. Ben and Dad hurried off to get the car. You weren't really supposed to bring cars down to this part of the old campus, but given the circumstances I'm sure it would be allowed.
"She'll be fine," Master MacLachlan said. "It's only a stomach bug."
"I know," I said. "Most the girls in my block in my house have it."
"Classes could be quiet on Monday."
"Yeah."
I think Dad and Ben must have run to get the car, the rain that was once again pouring being only one incentive, as they were back less then ten minutes later. Dad carried Mum out to the car and I followed so that I could open the car door. When she was safely inside, Dad turned to me.
"Sorry we're cutting it short," he said.
"It's ok. You've been here today."
He smiled. "I guess we'll see you for Christmas?"
"Yeah. But we can video chat and stuff."
"I'll have to set it up our end but we will. Yeah. Ok, well, I'd better get Mum home."
"Ok."
He pulled me into a tight embrace and kissed my hair. "I love you, Grace."
And that was another first. It shouldn't have been. But it was. I actually didn't care. I was just glad he'd said it.
"I love you too, Dad."
He kissed me again, squeezed a little and then got in the car and drove away. I watched the car until it disappeared. Those few moments were harder than when I'd first come here.
"Come on, Grace," Ben said and gently tugged on my hand. "We're getting kicked out."
I let him pull me away and we walked in silence back to our house where we were both immediately called into Master Clarke's office.
"All of the girls are ill," he said.
"All of them?" I asked with a deep frown. "Viruses don't spread that fast."
"Most of F block got ill yesterday afternoon and it seems to have crept down the sister side of the house and B block went out for dinner last night and have got food poisoning. Some of the D girls and B boys have it as well. I think they all went to the same place in town. Either way, you're not ill and I don't particularly want you to be." Well, that made two of us.
"What are you saying, Sir?" I asked. "Am I sleeping in the lounge?"
He scoffed. "It's flu not a one day bug. Ben, do you mind?"
"No, Sir," he said.
"Ok. Grace, if you think you can handle the boys for a week you can stay in Ben's room."
"I'm sure I can handle it, Sir."
He nodded slowly and laced his fingers. "Ok. Same rules as when the heating broke. Ben, let me know who you're sharing with. Everyone else is finishing up lunch, I'll let everyone know. Come on."
We went into the dining hall, Ben and I helped ourselves to what was left of the sandwiches and snacks and sat down with Tarq and Simeon. Sir banged a plastic tray on the edge of the table he was stood next to. Everyone turned to him.
"Ok, boys listen up," he said. Then he smiled. "I miss that phrase." He continued more seriously. "Ok, all the girls are ill except Grace. We're hoping to contain it so that it doesn't spread throughout the school like wild fire. A few of them only have food poisoning, the rest have flu."
"Awwwww," some of them mocked and sniggered.
"I had to carry Chi up the stairs," Ben said which shut them up. They were in E block. "A little sympathy wouldn't go amiss."
"And Heather collapsed in maths," someone else said.
"Sorry."
"Good. So the music competition on Sunday is cancelled. Now, Grace isn't ill and doctors' orders are that she's to make as few trips to and spend as little time on the sister side of the house as possible. So, Grace is going to be your side of the house for about a week."
Most of them cheered. I rolled my eyes and took another bite of my sandwich. Master Clarke gave them a dark look which shut them up pretty quickly.
"Grace, would you like to say anything to that?" he asked me.
I swallowed my food and then repeated something Chi had said she'd said to a guy who hit on her once even though I felt stupid saying it. "If you come anywhere near me I'll break your balls with a spoon. Then I'll feed you what come out of them." There was a collective wince. "If anything comes out of them."
Beside me Ben sniggered. He was the only person who hadn't winced.
"Well, now that's settled. C block, I'd like to see you in my office once you're all done. Grace as well."
We nodded and everyone got back to their food.
"Where's your parents?" Simeon asked.
"Mum's ill too. Dad took her home."
"You'd better not give it to us," Tarq said and leaned away from me a little even though he was sat the other side of the table and one chair down from me.
"I don't get ill, relax."
"What? Ever?"
"Nope."
"Lucky you," he muttered. "Seriously, you've never had a cold?"
"Not so much as a sniffle."
"Lucky you."
We quickly ate knowing that our housemaster was a busy man and reported to his office as ordered. The door was open and he was talking to some nurses from the sanatorium. They had face masks dangling around their necks even though it was just flu they were dealing with, but it would be pretty awkward if they got ill as well.
"With their weakened immune systems it's likely they the ones with food poisoning will get ill as well," one of the nurses said. "The one who isn't ill should pack up for a week."
Dame Clarke sighed. "Hopefully the boys won't be annoying for her to put up with."
Master Clarke snorted. "I won't let them be. But it does have to go both ways. Thank you."
"We'll stick around and swap over throughout the night," one of the unfamiliar voices said and then they both came out of the room.
We went in and stood in an irregular semi circle, me at the front so that I could see because I was the shortest. Master Clarke looked at all eleven of us individually before speaking. "If there was room in another house for Grace to sleep she'd be over there instead of Ben's room. For the most part everyone was well behaved after short leave." His eyes flicked to me and Ben. "I want that same behaviour again. No sneaking into her room, no hiding her clothes, no waking her up early or keeping her up late. And if there are any more pranks," he looked to me and Ben again, "detentions and chores will be dolled out. Understood?"
"Yes, Master Clarke," we all said.
He nodded. "Boys, give one of your bathrooms over to her. Grace – no hairdryers before breakfast or after ten, got it?"
"I don't own a hair dryer, sir."
"Really?" one of the guys I didn't speak to much but liked well enough, Ray, asked. "Seriously? My sister doesn't go anywhere unless she's spent an hour on her hair."
"Really," I said dryly. "Or straighteners or curlers and I didn't bring any makeup with me. I'm a boy."
They laughed, even Sir.
"Ok, Grace, Ben, stay behind. The rest of you can go."