Books: "The Four" By Ellie Keel

 

The Four

By Ellie Keel

William Morrow Paperbacks; paperback, 448 pages; $18.99; available today, Tuesday, August 20th

Ellie Keel is the founding director of The Women's Prize for Playwriting, a literary prize for writers on the stage in the UK and Ireland. 

The Four is Keel's debut novel, and it is set in England, in an intense setting ripe for intrigue, the heart of dark academia. It is a tale of revenge, guilt, privilege, and loyalty in an elite institution that holds a lot of secrets.

The story is centered on four scholarship pupils at an exclusive boarding school, who found themselves bound by a dark secret that could save one of them, or destroy them all. They were outsiders in a world of privilege, and to everyone but themselves - dangerous.

Each of the four were desperate to go to High Realms, one of the most exclusive schools in the UK, with each having their own reasons. Marta, Rose, Sami, and Lloyd beat out thousands of applicants to earn their spots at one of the most exclusive private schools in the UK, with an alumni base that can be found at the highest levels of society. 

As the only scholarship students in their class, the four, naturally, formed a crucial camaraderie as they guide their way through the school's web of rivalries, honor, loyalty, and revenge. 

Within this storied institution, marked by majestic buildings and rolling grounds, a sinister undercurrent of violence is brewing, and when one of the four reveals a devastating secret, each of the friends is left to wonder what kinds of risks they need to take to remain at High Realms. 

Ultimately, their bonds of friendship are tested, one of many layers that makes this a book you won't be able to put down, as the cinematic story is vividly told.

In this excerpt, Keel, brings the reader right into the conflict that immediately threatened the four's bond: "It would have made out lives a lot easier if Marta had simply pushed Genevieve out of our bedroom window on our third day at High Realms. Certainly, it would have been tragic. The Main House was six storeys high, and our room was at the very top. Genevieve would have fallen hundreds of feet through the clear Devon air, landing on the smooth lawn, which ended just short of the sandstone wall of the East Wing. She would have died instantly.

But Marta didn't push her that day, or - if you choose to believe me - at any other time. Things ultimately got pretty bad for Lloyd, Sami, Marta, and me, but already on day three I had an uneasy sense that we weren't going to be able to make things work at this school. My scepticism was largely based on Marta's inability to follow rules, even simple ones, which was getting all four of us into trouble: Marta and I had had two Unofficial Sanctions and lessons hadn't even begun. That first Tuesday - a golden, early September day in 1999 - we'd been warned about the Senior Patrol Inspection, which would take place between Games and Formal Supper, and I'd asked Marta to make sure she tidied up, but when I returned to our room after my first hockey practice with the Hillary First XI, I pushed open the door to find Room 1A in a worse state than ever.

Marta was standing on her bed, arranging books on the shelves above it. 'Hiya!' she said, beaming at me.

'What the-' I stared at the scene. When I'd left for hockey my bed and my half of the long desk had been fairly neat, but now Marta's possessions were strewn everywhere. Items of uniform - not all of them clean - smothered every surface, including the floor. I picked my way over to my bed and plucked Marta's trainers off the pillow. 'We need to tidy up,' I told her.

'I am tidying.' Balanced precariously on her bed, her dark hair dishevelled, Marta pointed to the shelves. 'I'm putting these books in alphabetical order. I'm doing yours too.'

'OK, but...' I swallowed, staring at the mess. 'We've got twenty minutes before Genevieve comes. Let's clear the floor, at least.' Before I could continue, there was a smart rap at the door. 'S**t.'

Marta bounded off the bed and across the room, yanking the door open with misplaced enthusiasm. 'Hello!' 

'Senior Patrol Inspection.' As I'd feared, it was Genevieve Lock's voice. She had the room next door, 1B, and was a member of the Senior Patrol - High Realms' word for prefects - for Hillary House. She was also on the hockey First XI. In our first few interactions she'd treated Marta and me with lofty derision, but I'd put two goals past her that afternoon, and now, as she stepped over the threshold of Room 1A, I saw anger simmering in her high-cheekboned face. 'Oh dear,' she intoned. 'Am I early?'

Marta and I watched as Genevieve picked her way between the twin bedsteads, across the cluttered floor towards the two sash windows. She's already changed our of her hockey kit, and was wearing her gown over a tartan dress and high heels. The gowns were made of black crepe, with billowing sleeves and hems that brushed the floor, making the Senior Patrol homogenously intimidating. The first time I'd seen all twelve of them together I'd found their appearance absurd, but my impression had quickly changed when I realised how much power they had. Only that morning, I'd witnessed Genevieve and the Captain General of School, Jolyon Astor, terrorising a group of First Formers who had mistakenly attended the early breakfast sitting. There are one thousand f**king students here, and you think you're getting in first?

With one motion, Genevieve swept all of the objects on my side of the desk onto the floor, swung herself onto its surface, and tugged the lower half of the window up to above her head. She crossed one slim leg over the other, leaned nonchalantly against the wall, and lit a cigarette with an ornate silver lighter.

'So,' she said, exhaling sharply out of the corner of her mouth, 'our suspicions are confirmed.'"