The Chrysalid Conspiracy (4 page)

After cramming everything into Amelia’s locker, they hung on to each other in the push to Friday assembly in the ‘Great Hall,’ a huge, high-ceilinged room that hung with threadbare religious tapestries in an effort, Amelia was sure, to obscure the inevitability of time and change.

It always reminded Amelia of a temple, but she was never sure whether it was dedicated to some minor educational deity, or perhaps a more virulent God of social engineering.

As everybody settled down, Amelia whispered to Rayn. “Not to worry, the tapestries only smell this bad when it rains.”

A passing eagle-eared prefect homed in on their giggles and chided them in a loud voice in an effort to impress his superiors. “Come on now, settle down. Remember, school days are the best days of your life.”

“There’s not much hope for the future then,” Rayn whispered to Amelia, “if everything gets worse after this!”

A fit of the giggles is never a good thing to have in assembly on a wet Friday morning. A total breakdown can only lead to disaster. They were still laughing uncontrollably as they were being ‘escorted’ from the hall.

“What happens now?” asked Rayn, once they were in the corridor and she could breathe again.

“Don’t know, I’ve never been in trouble before.”

“Oh great. Well, at least you’ve got further to fall than me,” said Rayn.

“At a guess I’d say we’ll get a lecture from Miss Dempsey and either a detention or, more likely an extra essay. She likes giving those out,” Amelia told her.

“What subject does she teach?”

“RE,” was the short sharp reply.

Rayn slumped back and gently banged her head against the wall.

“Not that,” she muttered. “Anything but religion.”

Amelia stared at the masses of flaming wet hair and the tears of laughter staining her new friend’s face. She liked this girl, she felt Rayn to be a kindred spirit with her off-the-wall humour. It gave Amelia a completely different perspective on her own neat little life. She was a breath of fresh air in this stale Victorian warehouse, with its ivy-covered teachers and the culture of arrogance they waved like a banner of so-called excellence.
Perhaps there’s hope for the future after all,
she mused.

“I’m so glad we met, Rayn. I’m going to like you,” she said, smiling.

Rayn whirled round on her. “You’re glad we met?” she exclaimed. “That’s rich. I pushed you over in a puddle, got us soaking wet, had us thrown out of assembly and in trouble with the staff, and for all that I’m going to get a religious essay! For Pete’s sake Amelia, I’m an Irish Catholic with a Protestant father. My idea of religion will make these people tear their hair out, and I’ll be in even more trouble.” She paused for a gasp of air before continuing her tirade. “I wish I’d just pushed you over, jumped on you and ran off. Remind me to stay away from your friends as well.”

“That shouldn’t present a difficult prospect,” said Amelia, “I don’t have any.”

Stunned for a moment, Rayn took a long pause. “Wow!” she said at last. “If we can create this amount of chaos in ten minutes flat, just think what we can achieve in a whole term!”

As they were about to erupt into laughter again, Miss Dempsey appeared looking smug and superior. “Jaxson, and whoever you are, my off…” Her whole demeanour immediately froze and completely at a loss she watched as the two girls, deserted by both self-discipline and dignity, collapsed into a tangled mass of uncontrollable hysterical laughter.

***

The two girls sat in the cold stone corridor outside the Headmaster’s office. Miss Dempsey, not having properly recovered from such disrespectful behaviour that was so completely alien to her, had marched them ‘upstairs’. Her voice and manner indicated to them that they would be entering the ‘Gates of Hell for Final Judgement’.

Sitting together on what was obviously an old church pew; with its rich, dark, well-polished wood that had seen years of use, they appreciated its antiquity and both agreed that pews were the most uncomfortable seats ever invented.

Looking up at the huge Gothic-style arched window opposite them, they watched the rain running down the inside of the stained glass. It dripped off the windowsill onto a rusty radiator and on to the floor, where it lay, wondering what to do next.

“How come you don’t have any friends?” asked Rayn. Their mood had sobered somewhat, sitting as they had been for over half an hour in wet clothes. The humour in them had given way to the seriousness of reality and both girls were apprehensive.

“Oh, it’s just one of those things,” Amelia replied.

“No it’s not,” said Rayn. “You don’t just end up without any friends, there must be a reason.” her reasoning displayed a swift mind and a nimble tongue.

“I’ve sort of got this thing,” Amelia was reluctant to explain.

“Is it curable?”

“Don’t start me off again, we’re in enough trouble,” said Amelia. “No, I’ve got this memory thing.”

“Hey, they’re great for getting you home for dinner. What exactly are you talking about?” replied Rayn, curiously.

“I rarely forget anything I see, read or hear.”

“Photographic memory, you mean,” said Rayn, her eyes lighting up.

“Sort of,” replied Amelia, “but I only remember things I’m interested in. You know – maths, science, English. Practical things mainly. The trouble is I think someone told Miss Dempsey I’m trying to flunk her classes on purpose, but the truth is I just can’t take it in. There’s no logic to religion, it makes no sense.”

“You got that right,” said Rayn. “I hate to ask, but do you speed read as well?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Amelia felt dejected at having to tell her new friend.

“You’re the only other person I’ve met who can, and I’ve got the same sort of memory thing as well” said Rayn.

“What? You mean you can too?” Amelia was suddenly thrilled at the prospect of a co-conspirator.

“Yeah. Do you just run your eye down the middle of the page and all the information just seems to crowd around it?”

“Yes. That’s it exactly. My mum says it can’t be taught, either you can or you can’t. Apparently it’s a rare gift,” said Amelia.

“My mum claims she taught me. I’m going to have words with her. I’m so glad I’ve met someone else who can do it. I was beginning to feel like a freak.”

“Judging by the mess we’re in, you probably are,” laughed Amelia. “The problem is it puts you miles ahead of the others.”

“Why is that such a problem? Surely you’d be a star pupil?” said Rayn, with a frown.

“No chance, the teachers can’t handle it. They like to teach at their own speed, one bright kid and they’re flummoxed. They won’t move you up in case the older kids influence you. So I’ve learned to coast along just below the top graders. It makes life easier. Mass mediocrity seems to be the flavour of our generation. What I’d like to know is how did Miss Dempsey figure me out.”

“Amelia, that’s awful. I had no idea it was like that. What am doing here?” protested Rayn.

“Anyway,” Amelia continued. “Kids don’t like the ‘smarts’. In this place, it’s, ‘Them and Us’, the teachers and the kids. If you show any kind of ability then you’re not one of us or one of them, so that doesn’t leave many options. I have got one friend though, sort of. Sam. He’s black and I also think he’s gay, so he’s another loner. We talk now and then. I haven’t seen him for a while though…”

“Is it the same on the sports field?” Rayn asked only to be further disappointed by the answer. “Oh no,” she continued. “What am I doing here? I’m supposed to be way ahead of my years and came here to get some comparisons and improve.”

“Sorry kiddo,” Amelia sympathised. “It’s the same for me. I do most of my work on the Open University. You’ve got the right motivation, but the wrong school. Sorry.”

They sat on the uncomfortable pew in their soggy clothes, feeling cold and miserable. The rain had decided to join them and was easing its way across the flagstones towards their wet feet.

“Is this really your first school?” Amelia felt the need to keep both their minds off their present situation.

“Oh, mum and I moved around a lot.” Rayn explained. “She’s been teaching me at home,” explained Rayn.

“That sounds like a dream,” said Amelia.

“It definitely had its advantages, but my mum wasn’t really a teacher and she pushed me a bit hard through primary. She couldn’t understand when I couldn’t understand.”

“Why did you move around so much then?” Amelia asked.

“We follow the craft fairs – you know, exhibitions, carnivals, those sorts of things. Mum’s a dab hand at carving pictures into leather. She makes belts, bags, hats, even sandals, not to forget her ‘Gypsy Rose’ fortune telling. We did all right. Anyway, Mum hates staying in the same place too long. She calls it her Gypsy Wanderlust.”

“You’re a gypsy, then?” said Amelia, thrilled at this new revelation.

“Yeah, sort of. Half, anyway.”

“Good for you,” said Amelia, her mind filling with images of the romance and adventure of ‘life on the open road’.

“Not so good, really. It’s taken me a year to get her to stay put and let me go to school to get some qualifications. Now look where it’s got me, and on my first day! She’s going to kill me.” She looked around the dank, depressing example of a bygone and much maligned age and gave a sigh of hopeless surrender.

“I’m sorry,” said Amelia.

“Not your fault.”

“Yes it is,” cut in Amelia quickly. “You made me laugh, and on a day like this that’s really something. I shouldn’t have gone along with it. I just lost all sense of reason and I should have known better. It was just so refreshing to meet someone with a sense of humour that I got carried away.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the rain spreading across the floor towards them while they listened to the wind chasing itself around outside.

“What’s the boss like, then?” asked Rayn. “Are we in big time trouble?”

Amelia felt a shiver go through her, and it wasn’t just the cold. “Oh…er…well, he’s like anybody else really.”

“But what’s he like?” Rayn persisted.

“Don’t know,” said Amelia, too quickly. “I’ve never met him.”

“But you must have seen him? Didn’t you get an impression of what he’s like?”

“I…er… never took any notice, really.”

Rayn took a deep breath. “Amelia, you’re not a very good liar. What are you trying to hide?”

Amelia was quiet for a moment. She knew she’d been out manoeuvred and wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Well,” she said, unable to think of anything intelligent to say. “It’s that he’s a bit, well, odd.”

“Odd?” replied Rayn in exasperation. “Exactly what do you mean by…?” She was cut off in mid-sentence. The large, imitation-mahogany door of the Headmaster’s office opened and Miss Dempsey appeared with her nose in the air and a dark expression still on her almost pretty face. She walked quickly past the two girls without even a glance in their direction; her straight back accentuated her slim figure forcing her to take short sharp steps which echoed along the stone floor.

The Headmaster’s secretary came out and smiled at them. She was an attractive, middle-aged woman, smartly dressed with subtle, soft make-up and prematurely greying hair. “The headmaster will see you now,” she said. Her voice was warm and pleasant.

The room was magnificent. It could only have been a Headmaster’s office. Oak panelling on the walls hung with paintings of previous Headmasters. Glass cabinets crammed full of trophies and photos of past successes, each with their own story to tell. There were neat, tidy bookshelves filled with large ancient tomes, gold leaf titles complementing the dark red leather bindings. But most of all it was warm.

To the left was an ornate marble fireplace, too large but somehow just right. An artificial log fire gave the impression of flame and colour. Above this was an oversize painting of a man in Cardinal’s robes. Amelia couldn’t read the inscription but it had to be ‘Our Founder’. The portrait and the fireplace looked picture perfect, like something from a luxury furnishings magazine.

To the right there stood the great vaulted stained glass window, in much better condition than its elder brother in the corridor. In front of a long, low modern radiator beneath the window stood an oak coffee table displaying a magnificent bouquet of flowers. Amelia spotted immediately that they were professional, expensive and plastic.
certainly not supplied by my mother,
she thought to herself. The carpet was a typical deep luxurious red and the mahogany furnishings reflected the light beautifully. The chairs were in red felt upholstery, with brass edging studs shining mischievously. The Headmaster’s desk, however, was a glass and chrome monstrosity, which was so out of place it made Amelia wonder why they had bothered.

She glanced across at Rayn and her heart missed a beat when she saw the look on her friend’s face as she stared at the man behind the desk.
oh no,
she thought,
come on girl, hold it together.

***

Professor Theodore Elijah Melkins had had an almost brilliant academic career. An anthropologist, archaeologist and palaeobotanist – his studies had covered a wide range of associated subjects. Although he had enough letters after his name to fill a small dictionary, in a society that offers no discrimination against ability he unfortunately lacked the vital criteria for modern day success – personality and looks!

Too much time in the company of books or at the bottom of a trench had left him with little or no social skills. As regards his looks, he could be considered, to a certain extent, unfortunate that his life had coincided with the popularity of a certain children’s cartoon series.

He was clever enough to realise that the headmastership of a secondary school had become the upper limit of his career, and he had settled down to make as good a job as he could. His problem wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t very good at it, but that nobody liked him. The poor man was so boring that he was the first person not to be included on party or dinner guest lists.

His most endearing quality, according to the pupils, was that he considered all school children to have a mental age of six, and because Amelia had picked most of this up from the other kids in the school and hadn’t given it much thought, even though some of his assembly ‘sermons’ often left her wondering what the point was that he’d been trying to make.