No longer trying to hide herself, she stalked over to the dried ferns and pushed them aside. Allie hurried to her side, arriving just in time to see a small, spiky creature curl up into a ball and cover its eyes.

'Oh! A hedgehog,' she cooed. 'I've never seen one before in person. It's adorable.'

'You can touch it,' Zoe said. 'It won't bite.'

Lowering her hand, Allie brushed one finger lightly over the hard shell-like spikes. At her touch, the hedgehog quivered and tightened its curl.

'It's scared,' Allie whispered. 'We should leave it alone.'

'Sorry, Mr Hedgehog.' Zoe moved the dried ferns back into place. 'We didn't mean to spook you.' As they tiptoed away, it snuffled to itself consolingly.

And so their night went.

Whatever he might have expected, Carter's fears proved to be unfounded. They encountered nothing more frightening than the hedgehog while patrolling.

Each night after that was the same: no Nathaniel, no Christopher.

Nothing at all.

In the days before the ball, the mood at the school changed markedly. Most students had already turned in their final papers and essays for the term so classes, which up until then had been frenetic with last-minute work, took on a relaxed atmosphere. Even so, when the students walked into English class they were stunned to see a television in a corner.

As she followed the others into the room, Allie's jaw dropped when she saw what they were all looking at. With technology forbidden at Cimmeria, the sight of even an old box-shaped TV filled them all with excitement and something like wonder.

Watching their reactions from across the room, Isabelle seemed positively gleeful.

'I thought for a bit of a treat we could watch a film,' she said, laughing as they broke into raucous applause. 'It's a film version of a book we read earlier this term The Age of Innocence so don't get too excited. It's not exactly MTV.'

Zoe was practically jumping out of her seat with joy, and Allie laughed at her reaction. Then, as always, her gaze floated to Carter, who sat as far away from her as possible. Talking to a friend next to him, he looked as if he were trying to summon a smile and failing.

Sliding down in her chair, she dropped her eyes to her notebook as all the excitement fizzled out. Just looking at Carter made her feel awful, every time.

When Isabelle turned down the lights and switched the television on the students fell into instant silence, gazing at the glowing screen, rapt.

'I've missed this so much,' someone whispered.

Though the film was slow and the story complicated, the technology-starved class became engrossed in the tale of a young man who marries the wrong woman. Although her own worries and fears were whirling in her mind, after a few minutes, Allie found herself lost in the story, willing Newland Archer to run off with Ellen.

When Ellen asked him, 'How can we be happy behind the backs of people who trust us?' Allie unconsciously covered her mouth with her fingers.

Sensing someone watching her, she glanced up. Across the darkened room, she caught Sylvain's gaze, the flickering lights of the screen reflected in his blue eyes. For a long moment their eyes locked. The confused emotions coursing through Allie's body were like nothing she'd ever felt before. She was drawn to him, angry at him, longing for him ... all at once. She felt as if they were speaking to each other through that one long look. Communicating things they didn't dare say aloud.

Finally, she couldn't bear the tension and forced herself to turn back to the film. Only then did she notice her hands had been clenched so tight her nails had dug pale crescents into her palms.

TWENTY-SEVEN.

The day of the ball dawned clear and cold. With snow forecast for later, nobody knew whether to be more excited about the dance with its array of international political leaders and corporate billionaires, or the mass snowball fight that would inevitably follow any snowstorm.

Students were free from classes and many of them spent the time packing, as most were leaving for Christmas break the next day. Allie had no reason to pack. She and Rachel were staying at the school until Christmas Eve, and then only spending a few days at Rachel's house before returning to Cimmeria. Allie's parents had agreed with Isabelle that London for Christmas wasn't really possible this year. Not after what happened in August.

Downstairs, a giant Christmas tree had been installed in the entrance hall, while a smaller tree stood in the common room near the piano, draped in red and gold fairy lights and so weighed down with baubles it looked buried. The whole building smelled of pine and cinnamon. Students played Christmas carols on the piano in the common room. But Allie, who felt not even slightly festive, had so far ignored the impending holiday. No cut-out snowflakes or baubles hung in her room.

Her main goal right now was to meet Lucinda to ask her all the questions she'd been longing to ask.

Her other goal was to stay alive.

She still believed Nathaniel would try something during the ball, and she wasn't convinced they were ready for it.

But there was no way to stop the ball from happening. And when she knocked at Jo's room that afternoon, holding her dress in her arms, Allie was determined to put on a festive face for her. If Jo knew she was worried, she'd be worried, too. And that was rarely a good thing.

In stark contrast to Allie's room, Jo's embraced the ethos of the holidays in a borderline fanatical fashion. An LED Christmas tree glowed on the desk, fairy lights were draped across the bookcase, and a glossy gold ribbon had been wrapped around the chair and tied into a gigantic bow. From his perch on a bed pillow, a stuffed Santa Claus surveyed the room doubtfully.

'I think,' Jo said, 'we should do something special for the ball.'

'What do you have in mind?' Allie hung her dress from a hook on the back of Jo's door and dropped casually on to her bed next to Santa.

Reaching into the wardrobe, Jo produced two small boxes and held them up. 'Since neither of us has a date, which in my case is unprecedented, I think we should look particularly amazing tonight,' Jo said. 'Let's show everyone what they're missing.'

She tossed one box to Allie.

As she turned it over in her hands, a broad grin spread across Allie's face. 'You're a genius.'

'I know.' Jo grabbed two towels. 'I loved your hair when you first came here. It inspired me. Come on. You and me. Loos. Now.'

Ignoring the curious stares from two girls standing at the sinks, they ducked into a shower cubicle together, giggling.

Without ceremony, Jo took off her top and draped a towel across her shoulders. Allie did the same.

Jo pulled on rubber gloves with a loud snap and shook a plastic bottle in one hand. 'I think I should do yours and then you do mine. It's hard to do your own.'

Allie leaned over as Jo streamed purplish goo on to her hair, working it in with the rubber gloves.

Allie shivered deliciously. 'I love someone else doing things to my hair.'

'I know. It's like a headgasm.'

'Where did you get this stuff?' Allie asked.

Working on the back of Allie's head, Jo said, 'My brother's girlfriend sent it to me. I called her last week.'

The room smelled so strongly of chemicals Allie's eyes watered. 'You were planning this all the time?'

'After we made up, it just came to me.' Jo squished the goo through to the ends of Allie's hair with a satisfying squelch. 'Like a vision.'

One hour and two ruined towels later, the job was done. Back in Jo's room they admired their handiwork.

Hanging in wet strands below her shoulder blades, Allie's hair was vivid, almost metallic red. Jo's short blonde locks were now shiny pink.

Dimpling prettily, Jo shook her damp locks. 'I look like a pixie.'

A wave of melancholy hit Allie as she studied herself. 'I look like old me.'

As if she knew what she was thinking, Jo's eyes met hers in the mirror. 'Old you is just as beautiful as new you.'

Someone knocked at the door. 'Whatever you're selling ...' Jo said, yanking it open.

Zoe and Rachel stood on the other side, their arms full of clothes.

At Allie's insistence they were all getting ready together. After everything that had happened to drive everyone apart, she wanted this one night everyone to be together. Where she could keep an eye on them.

Zoe stared at Jo's pink hair with her mouth open.

'Oh my God, you look amazing.' The fabric in her arm rustled as she jumped up and down in excitement.

'Enter.' Jo stepped back from the door. 'And prepare to be fabulous.'

'Leave my hair alone.' Rachel's eyes flickered to Allie's head. 'Vivid,' was her only comment.

Allie shrugged helplessly. 'Something came over us.'

'Can my hair be purple?' Zoe dropped her dress on the bed.

'Sadly, your very young hair will have to stay its natural colour as we used up all the dye I had,' Jo said. 'But you can hang out with us and bask in our reflected, many-coloured glory. And I'll put makeup on you.' She added the last sentence hastily when she saw Zoe's face fall.

Zoe looked up at them hopefully. 'Lots of makeup?'

'As much makeup as your heart desires.' Holding up a golden tube of lipstick that sparkled in the light, Jo smiled.

First, she styled Allie's hair into glossy red curls. Next, she wound Zoe's straight brown hair between ribbons, pulling it back off her face and brushing it smooth until it shone like a sheet of dark glass. Then she lined Zoe's eyes with dark blue liner and applied a lavish coating of mascara. As she painted Zoe's lips with strawberry pink gloss, Rachel glanced over at her doubtfully.

'She looks like a midget prostitute.'

'I like it.' Zoe pouted at herself in the mirror. 'I think I look older. More mature.'

'It's the Cimmeria Ball. She'll be fine.' Jo motioned for Rachel to sit in front of her. 'It's not like Gary Glitter will be here.'

'Who's Barry Glitter?' Zoe asked.

The others ignored the question.

As Jo began working on Rachel's mane of dark curls, Rachel watched her suspiciously. 'I don't really do anything with my hair.'

'I won't do much either.' Jo waved curling tongs. 'Just a bit of this and a little of that.'

Rachel hunched her shoulders. 'That's what I'm afraid of.'

By now it was dark outside the stars had disappeared behind a bank of cloud, and the air had that heavy, silent feeling that portends snow. For the last hour, Bentleys and limousines had pulled in steadily, crunching their way down the gravel lane. Now the drive was full, as far as they eye could see.

As she finished with Rachel's thick mane, Jo glanced at the clock on her desk, currently covered in sparkly gold tinsel. 'It's time, ladies.'

After makeup touch-ups, they zipped each other's dresses then stood in front of the full-length mirror to take it in.

'We look like angels,' Zoe breathed, staring at them.

'More like fairies, I think.' Jo's pink hair glittered in the overhead light and her black velvet minidress showed off her long, slim legs. 'Or film stars.'

Zoe's dark green taffeta dress had a high neckline and a circle skirt. Her heavy eye makeup gave her an oddly charming punk look. Rachel wore a matte red dress that left one arm and shoulder bare. Her thick dark hair had been pulled back from her face with a gold braided band that made her look like an exotic princess.

But they were all staring at Allie.

'Allie, darling,' Jo said, 'you really do look amazing.'

'So amazing,' Zoe agreed.

'Even with that hair,' Rachel conceded.

Allie's vintage blue silk dress clung to her waist and swung out into a full skirt ending at the knee. The sleeves hugged her arms to just below her elbows. Her henna-red hair contrasted with it perfectly, making her fair skin glow. She'd loved this dress since it first appeared in her closet during the summer term one of Isabelle's mysterious, well-chosen gifts.

Allie blushed. 'Well, all I can say is: who needs boys? I just want to snog us.'

'Not again,' Zoe muttered, heading for the door.

'Seriously, Allie,' Rachel said, 'this kissing girls thing seems to be becoming a habit.'

'I'm convinced if I were a lesbian dating would be easier.' Allie followed them out. 'Boys are the problem.'

'I don't know,' Jo said mildly. 'Sometimes boys can be the answer too.'

'I don't know what either of you is talking about,' Zoe said.

'Me neither,' said Rachel.

By the time they reached the top of the main staircase they were all laughing. Down below the wide, oak-panelled hallway had been draped in velvet ribbon and filled with bouquets of red and gold flowers. The ban on candles had clearly been lifted, because they glowed in sconces and on every table and windowsill.

Classical music filtered out of the great hall and down the corridor, accompanied by a low roar of voices. The hallway was packed with people most of them adults; their glossy hair glittered in the light. The men were all in tuxedoes while the women wore designer dresses and clutched tiny bags.

'I don't remember inviting all these people,' Jo murmured dryly as they walked down the stairs side by side.

'Oh my God. Is that President Abingdon?' Zoe zipped ahead of them and threaded her way through the people, soon disappearing into the crowd.

'Our little girl,' Jo sighed.