Page 95 of Twisted Ties

I watch as Winnie walks gingerly towards her grandma and her grandma rests her hands on her hips and frowns.

I decide to give them privacy and, with an inhale tosteady my nerves, pull my phone out of my pocket and switch it on.

The screen immediately lights up and the device pings in my hand with message after message. Fifteen at least, plus several missed-call notifications.

About half of the calls are from the man in black’s number, the other from a number that my phone declares belongs to Arrow Hart Academy.

Shit!

I take a look at the messages. Most of these are from Azlan too. All of them asking where I am and what the hell I think I’m doing.

There’s also a formally written one from the academy asking that I call as soon as I receive the message and then two more from numbers I don’t know.

The first is clearly from Stone. He tells me I’m a dick and a stupid one at that, and need to call in or come home.

Home? Does he seriously think I consider the academy my home? I tsk under my breath and press on the final message.

Where are you, Pig Girl?

That’s all it says. Tristan? But I have his number in my phone already. In that case it could be any of the jerks from school. Although why anyone of them care to know where I am is beyond me.

Winnie knocks on the windscreen and I jolt.

“Grandma’s making tea. Come say hello.”

“Pip?”

“He can come too. Grandma loves animals.”

Love is probably an understatement. The woman clearly adores them if her home is anything to go by.

A little dog greets us at the doorway, yapping excitedly at Pip who grunts in annoyance in reply. Three cats sit curledup on the windowsill, each opening their eyes to look our way, then returning to their snoozing when they decide we’re nothing of interest. Then there are at least five bird cages positioned around the room, each containing songbirds that chirp away happily, joining in with the noise of the dog.

“Quiet, everyone,” Winnie’s grandma says, clapping her hands as she enters the front room. The room falls silent.

“Nonny,” Winnie says, “this is Rhi. My new roommate.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me she was stunningly beautiful, Winnifred,” the old woman says, stepping forward to take my hands in hers and squeeze them.

“I’m sure I did tell you,” Winnie says, dropping onto the couch and letting the dog jump up onto her lap.

“And who is this handsome gentleman?” Winnie’s grandma asks, peering down at Pip who’s hiding behind my legs. At the compliment, he strolls out, little chest puffed up.

“This is Pip.”

The woman ducks down, her back creaking, and ruffles Pip’s ears.

“He’ll love you forever now you’ve called him handsome, Mrs. Wence.”

“Oh, none of that. Rosa, please. And of course he will. It’s how you win all gentlemen over. A few well-placed compliments, a little massage of their ego, and they’re putty in your hands.” She smiles warmly at me. “Take a seat then, Rhi.” She points to the space next to Winnie on the couch, lowering herself carefully onto an armchair. The little dog immediately leaps off Winnie’s lap and goes to settle himself on her grandma’s instead. “Ahh that’s the kettle whistling. Be a good girl, Winnifred, and go make that tea.”

When her granddaughter is out of the room, the oldwoman says, “Winnie doesn’t usually cut class. Are you a bad influence?”

I decide to go with the truth. “Probably.”

“Well, good. Winnie’s always been too much of a goody-two-shoes for her own good. It’s about time she broke loose. I hope you were cutting class to go meet some hot men.”

I stare at her. “Winnie has a boyfriend.”