Read The Madness Underneath: Book 2 (THE SHADES OF LONDON) for Free Online

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    “Au ror a. It is good to see you. And your parents…Call me Claudia. I’m housemistress of Hawthorne.”
    Claudia managed the entire return and good-bye process, assuring my parents in every possible way aside from interpretive dance that all would be well and I would be looked after and coming back to school was very much the right thing for me. Before they left, my parents went through the personal rules we’d established. I’d call them every day. I would never take the Tube after nine at night. I would carry a rape whistle, which I’d already been given and which was already attached to my bag.
    Claudia shepherded them back to the car. I finally understood why she was in charge of our building. She had skills with parents. She was like the parent whisperer.
    “I want you to know,” she said, when we were alone and back in the safety of her office, “I think what you are doing is exceptionally courageous, and all of us here at Wexford are behind you. Those events…are in the past. You’re here to pick up where you left off, and you will have an excellent rest of term. I encourage you to take advantage of our health services. Mr. Maxwell at the sanatorium is an excellent counselor. He’s helped many students…”
    “I have someone,” I said. “Back in Bristol.”
    “But you might want someone here. If you do, Mr. Maxwell would be happy to see you at any time. But enough of that. How are you coming along with your lessons?”
    “I’m a little…behind.”
    “Quite understandable,” she said, as gently as Claudia could say anything. “We have people to help bring you up to speed in all your subjects. Charlotte has already volunteered, and your teachers certainly know the circumstances. For thetime being, we’ll keep you out of hockey so you can use that time to catch up.”
    I tried to look sad.
    “Don’t worry,” she said. “Next term, we’ll have you back out there.”
    I would work on that one later. There was no way I was going back “out there.”
    “Now,” she said, “we’re almost to the end of term. Next week is the final week of classes. Then there’s revision over the weekend and through Monday of the following week, with exams on Tuesday and Wednesday. Obviously, you’ve missed too much to take a full exam, but we’ve worked something out for you. All of your teachers will assess your current level, both through classwork and through some informal testing, and you’ll be provided with modified versions of the exams. If necessary, we’ll give you take-home exams that you can complete over the holidays. Your teachers are prepared to work with you if you are willing to put in the effort. All right?”
    Claudia fished around in the top drawer of her desk and produced a small black box. She jacked this into her computer and pushed it across the desk in my direction.
    “Are you right-handed?” she asked me.
    I nodded.
    “Just put your right index finger on the pad there and hold it still for a moment.”
    There was a square on the top of the box marked off in white. I put my finger on it, and she clicked the mouse a few times.
    “Rotten thing,” she mumbled. “Always takes a…ah. There we go. Now, let me show you how this works.”
    She led me back to the front door and pointed to a small touchpad.
    “Try it now to see if your fingerprint was accepted.”
    I put my finger on the pad. A purple light came on, and there was a click.
    “Oh, good. Sometimes it doesn’t like the first time we take the impression. This is how you get in and out. It gives you ten seconds, or you have to do it again. The system monitors the whereabouts of all students. We know when you go in and out of this building. And no one goes in or out between eleven at night and five thirty in the morning. Now, why don’t you go up and get yourself settled back in?”
    The stairs of Hawthorne had a pronounced, musical creak as I walked back up to my room. My hall was much more narrow than I