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Chapters (93)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Part One
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Part Two
  17. Chapter 1
  18. Chapter 2
  19. Chapter 3
  20. Chapter 4
  21. Chapter 5
  22. Chapter 6
  23. Chapter 7
  24. Chapter 8
  25. Chapter 9
  26. Chapter 10
  27. Chapter 11
  28. Chapter 12
  29. Part Three
  30. Chapter 1
  31. Chapter 2
  32. Chapter 3
  33. Chapter 4
  34. Chapter 5
  35. Chapter 6
  36. Chapter 7
  37. Part Four
  38. Chapter 1
  39. Chapter 2
  40. Chapter 3
  41. Chapter 4
  42. Chapter 5
  43. Chapter 6
  44. Chapter 7
  45. Chapter 8
  46. Chapter 9
  47. Part Five
  48. Chapter 1
  49. Chapter 2
  50. Chapter 3
  51. Chapter 4
  52. Chapter 5
  53. Chapter 6
  54. Chapter 7
  55. Chapter 8
  56. Chapter 9
  57. Chapter 10
  58. Chapter 11
  59. Part Six
  60. Chapter 1
  61. Chapter 2
  62. Chapter 3
  63. Chapter 4
  64. Chapter 5
  65. Chapter 6
  66. Chapter 7
  67. Part Seven
  68. Chapter 1
  69. Chapter 2
  70. Chapter 3
  71. Chapter 4
  72. Chapter 5
  73. Chapter 6
  74. Chapter 7
  75. Chapter 8
  76. Chapter 9
  77. Chapter 10
  78. Chapter 11
  79. Part Eight
  80. Chapter 1
  81. Chapter 2
  82. Chapter 3
  83. Chapter 4
  84. Chapter 5
  85. Chapter 6
  86. Chapter 7
  87. Chapter 8
  88. Chapter 9
  89. Epilogue
  90. Acknowledgments
  91. Reading Group Guide
  92. About the Author
  93. Copyright

Dr. Blakely intervened. “Some references tend to upset her. Apparently both she and Rupert Gunderson find your championing of—­certain sexual practices—distasteful and upsetting.”

I snapped: “Well, I find Gunderson’s bullying of one of my boys equally distasteful. From what I hear, Allen-Jones—”

Dr. Blakely smiled. “I think that may be a discussion we have to keep for another day. For the moment, let’s reconvene—let’s say as soon as possible, John?”

Harrington nodded. “I’ll make a date.”

And at those words, a Century of duty and teaching were dismissed—by an upstart in a shiny suit and his pair of lackeys. The Chaplain had the grace to look awkward, and tried to catch me as I went out, but I was far too angry (and beneath that, too afraid) to deliver more than a curt good-bye. I went through the business of today like an automaton: smiling; talking to the boys; taking tea in the Common Room. But there was a bleakness inside me.

This is how it begins, I thought. Just as it did twenty years ago, a Juggernaut fueled by rumours and spite, crushing good men beneath its wheels. Just as it did with all of us. Just as it did with Harry Clarke.

Chapter 10

10

October 14, 2005

The golden lion of autumn is unusually subdued this year. Head tucked quietly over his paws, like a bronze statue over a grave. The dead walk in October; and not just on All Hallows’ Eve. Even the boys are oddly subdued. They sense the coming of winter. I sense it too, deep in my bones, just as I knew instinctively, when Colin Knight went missing last year, that I would never see him again—

Colin Knight. That wretched boy. I thought perhaps I’d put him to rest. But as Halloween approaches, I find myself remembering the dead. Colin Knight. Harry Clarke. Even Lee Bagshot—although he was not one of ours—perhaps even because of that.

With the passing of time, I find that the concept of belonging becomes less and less easy to believe in. I once belonged to St. Oswald’s. I was a part of it, heart and soul. Now I am in the shadows, contemplating the darkness. Harry too: now, even in death, he is a pariah. Our sense of belonging is nothing more than bright reflections on water; on a sunny day, we can see the sky; the clouds; each other. But dark water lies in waiting for the unwary; for us all. Dark water doesn’t discriminate.