The Clique by Rhiannon Barnsley

Author:Rhiannon Barnsley [Barnsley, Rhiannon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780008646141
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I get to Cannon Street Station and wait as I’ve been told to. I watch people go by, wondering if they’re the person I’m waiting for. I make eye contact and awkwardly smile at someone who looks like she’s about to approach me, but then she scowls and walks straight past.

I arrived early and I feel stupid, standing around, not knowing who I’m supposed to be meeting. It only serves to make me more nervous and put me on edge, but maybe that’s the point.

‘Cassandra Harlow?’

I spin on my heel in the direction of the voice. The woman in front of me looks younger than I imagined. She’s shorter than me, wearing thick-rimmed glasses, with her red hair in a tight bun.

‘That’s me.’

‘Do you want to follow me and I’ll take you to the interview?’

I obediently follow her like a dog. She leads me onto the main road but then takes a turn into a quiet side street. The streets are narrower here, not enough room for a car. Easily missed by unsuspecting passers-by.

‘So are you part of Inside?’ I ask.

‘No, I work on reception. I’m not a member.’

‘Oh, right.’ I don’t know how to respond. I can’t tell if that was a hint of disappointment in her voice. ‘Do you like working there?’

‘You ask more questions than people usually do.’ Her tone is blunt – it can’t be misinterpreted. ‘Just a word of advice – you won’t get very far if you ask too many.’

The woman stops in front of a narrow building at the end of the street. From the outside it looks like the other buildings nearby – although this is central London, so it’s still grand and imposing. Old architecture. The outside is white rather than brick. There are windows but they must have reflective coverings on them as you can’t see inside. There are also no signs on the outside to indicate what’s behind the front door. There’s a car outside and I notice it’s the same driver who took me to the mixer.

‘You know the drill,’ she says, opening the rear door. I climb inside, repeating the process of putting on the blindfold. I wait patiently until the car stops again and we get to our destination. I’m led into another building and the driver removes my blindfold. I don’t even know this man’s name and it’s not the first time I’ve been blindfolded in a car with him.

I open my eyes as the door slams behind me. In front of me is a hallway leading to an oval space with a double spiral staircase in the middle. Black and white chequered floor like a chessboard. There are numerous closed doors on both floors, all adorned with the ouroboros. A chandelier hangs in the middle, crystals dripping from its base like diamond tears.

The receptionist from earlier greets me. I’m not sure if she was in the car with us or followed behind.

‘You’ll be in Room Ten.’

She takes me up the stairs and opens a door to one of the rooms using a keycode.

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