Page 19 of Oleander

My mouth dried up. Caspienwasn’tgoing to Switzerland when school started? I tried to keep my face expressionless, but I’m not sure I was very successful when the smallest of smiles pushed at the corner of Gideon’s mouth.

“Which is why your company will be absolutely critical for him, I rather think. Gosh, everything is working out quite wonderfully, isn’t it?”

I felt sick, but I nodded anyway.

Five

Though it had only one small window and smelled of old wood, my room at the cottage was more than twice the size of my room in Gorey. An old fireplace in the corner ran up from the kitchen, which meant I could smell dinner before I was called down for it.

In early winter, that fireplace would blow cold air into the room, but in early September, it was so warm and stuffy that I was grateful for it.

Another positive about the move to St. Ouen was that I didn’t have to take the bus to school anymore. Despite being closer, the Deveraux estate wasn’t on a bus route – there’d been talk of me cycling the three miles to pick one up – but finally, Luke said it was easier and safer to just drive me there in the morning, which meant I got to sleep in a little longer.

But my favourite thing about the cottage was the garden and the view from my bedroom window out onto the shiny surface of the lake at the end of it. The lake was more of a glorified duck pond, but it was deep enough to swim in and big enough for a rowboat I could lie in and stare up at the sky for hours – which I’d done yesterday.

We’d been living there a week, and I hadn’t run into Caspien once. I also hadn’t taken Gideon up on the offer to use the library, mainly because my new laptop was living up to its promise and keeping me more than entertained. However, I hadpulled together a list of books which I’d give to him when I was helping Luke out on Saturday. Being back at school meant I only needed to help out on the weekends now.

So, despite my Caspien-shaped misgivings, the first week in the cottage was good, and I thought I might actually like living there after all.

I was in second period on the first day back when Alfie – my best friend – slid in next to me and said, eyes wide with disbelief: “Mum said you moved into Deveraux House!”

I’d forgotten Beth went to the same hairdresser as Alfie’s mum.

I snorted, pulling my stuff out of my bag. “Not the house, you twat, the cottage. Luke’s the groundsman now. Comes with the job.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. Which to Alfie, it clearly was.

“Have you met him then? Everyone says he’s an old pervert. And his nephew lives there with him, just the two of them.” He made a face. “Weirdoooooooo.”

I kept my voice level, but felt something hot rise in my chest. “He’s not old or a pervert. And Caspien goes to boarding school. He’s barely ever there.” I wasn’t sure why I told the lie.

“Oh,Caspien,is it?” Alfie laughed. “Caspien, the friendly ghost.”

“That’s Casper, you tool.”

He ignored that. “Anyway, when can I come round? Always wanted to see inside.”

“See inside where?” Georgia flounced down at the desk in front, a plume of something sweet and fruity drifting over us.

“Guess who’s got a new gaff?” Alfie tossed a thumb in my direction. “Alcott’s moved into a mansion.”

“Shut up, Alfred.”

Georgia stared at me, and then Ellie came towards us, smiling wide but distinctly not meeting my eye. We hadn’t spoken since the night at the beach when I’d kissed her, for reasons that seemed very valid at the time, but I was struggling to remember now.

“Hey, children,” she said, sinking down next to Georgia. “I cannot be pissed with this class today.”

“You’ve been back exactly one period, Els.” Georgia pointed out. “Apparently, Jude’s living in a mansion.”

Ellie turned to me. “What?”

“Not just any mansion either,” said Alfie. “The Deveraux Mansion.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m not living in the mansion.”

“You moved?” Ellie looked hurt.

“Yeah, kinda.” I smiled.

“Right, class, I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m ready to teach you everything I know about inheritance, variation, and evolution. Books open at chapter twelve, page thirty-six, please.” Mr. Simon’s eager voice cut short my friends’ questions about my new living situation. Until lunchtime, at least.