Page 43 of Take My Place

“Yes sir.” Lucas nods and comes to the back of the class to take the seat next to me.

“We meet again.” He reaches his hand out to me and I reluctantly shake it. “It’s nice to be formally introduced, Ivy. Your father’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same about you,” I reply. “I’ve never heard of you, let alone anyone with the name Donatello other than a dead artist. For someone who is such a good friend of my father’s, don’t you think it’s strange he never mentioned you?”

“From what I heard, you didn’t exactly see much of your father growing up,” Lucas replies smoothly. “I’m sure there’s lots of things he hasn’t mentioned to you. It doesn’t mean they didn’t happen or that his friends don’t exist. But he did ask me to tell you that he hopes we become as close as he and my mother are. And I have to say I hope so too.”

“Is that right?”

“Quiet at the back!” Mr Metcalf barks. “We’ve got a class to get through. Don’t think you can get away with disrupting my lessons, Mr Donatello. I have every right to withdraw your place if you fail to maintain the standards I require.”

“Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.”

Lucas slinks down in his seat, a smug grin on his face. I get the feeling he is getting a real kick out of making me feel wrongfooted.

“Now before we get into the real meat of today’s lesson, I’d like to say thank you to everyone who performed at the fundraiser. Becky–your piano playing is very much appreciated by the singers who needed accompanying. The orchestra is on point–your interpretation of Saint-Saens rivalled any professional performance and of course Ivy and Declan you were as great as I knew you would be. Mr Pilkington will be announcing the final figures for the fundraiser later this week, but I know it’s been an exceptional year and there’ll be a lot of very happy donkeys thanks to all your efforts. Now please open your textbooks to chapter seventeen. Josie, if you could please read the opening paragraphs for us?”

I never enjoyed music theory lessons much, but today I’m grateful for the excuse to bury my head in a textbook. I can look like I’m paying attention and working hard while I try to figure out what is really going on.

There is no way Lucas Donatello is who he says he is. Just last week he couldn’t find fifty pounds to enter the race and is accusing us all of being spoilt rich kids, but now his family can afford to send him here?

Another thought occurs to me; maybe his family isn’t rich. Maybe my father is covering his school fees. It would certainly make a lot more sense, but if that is the case, why? What possible reason could my father have for spending all that money on a nobody? He’d left my mother and me in poverty and I am hisdaughter. Why would he help out someone who isn’t even related?

There is a lot which didn’t stack up here, but there is no way I’m going to get the truth out of Lucas. I am going to have to be sneaky if I want to find out what is really going on.

Lucas did a good impression of a model student during Mr Metcalf’s class, and when the bell went off to announce break, he takes out his timetable and shows it to me.

“Looks like I’ve got double politics next,” he says. “Any chance you could point me in the direction of the class?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. It’s here in black and white. Double. Politics. In room 3E. Where do I have to go?”

“I’ll take you.” I sigh. “I’ve got double politics as well. We’re in the same class.”

“Really? Well, my day just got a little brighter.” Lucas smiles and for the first time I see why girls might find him attractive. He has the bad boy look going on, but it’s more hidden than what Archer gives off naturally. Lucas hides who he is under freckles and a sexy smile, but I see the darkness in his eyes. The darkness he is trying so hard to make sure I don’t see.

But there is something about him that creeps me out. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Maybe it is the fact that he arrived out of nowhere and now he is suddenly in two of my classes. Maybe it’s just that I can’t trust anyone who is close to my father. Either way, I’m not going to be sitting next to him in politics. Someone else can have that honour.

“You okay, Ivy?” Declan says lightly as he puts his books in his bag, but I remember how he nudged me earlier. I don’t think he trusts Lucas either.

“Yeah, fine.” I subtly shake my head to let him know I’m lying.

“I’ll be in the music rooms at lunchtime if you want to rehearse,” he tells me. “I’ll see you there?”

“Sounds good.”

We can compare notes about Lucas. Knowledge is always power in this place.

Lucas strides along confidently as we go to the politics department.

“How did you get into the politics class?” I ask him. “Music I can understand, but we’ve covered a lot of material. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Not really,” Lucas says. “I was in the advanced class at home and mum got me a tutor as well. She thought it was important I be aware of the British political system because of our business interests over here.”

“Really? What kind of business?”

“Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that,” says Lucas breezily. “I’m sure you don’t know everything your father’s involved in. Same deal with me.”

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