Copyright

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Scarlet and Ivy: The Dance in the Dark

Text copyright © Sophie Cleverly 2016

Illustrations copyright © Manuel Šumberac

Jacket illustrations © Katie Forrester 2016;

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2016

Sophie Cleverly asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007589227

Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780007589234

Version: 2016-04-27

Praise for

“This is one of the best books I have ever read. It was exciting, funny, warm and mysterious.” Lily, aged 9

“The whole book was brilliant … after the first paragraph it was as though Ivy was my best friend.” Ciara, aged 10

“This book is full of excitement and adventure – a masterpiece!” Jennifer, aged 9

“This is a page-turning mystery adventure with puzzles that keep you guessing.” Felicity, aged 11

“A brilliant and exciting book.” Evie, aged 8

“The story shone with excitement, secrets and bonds of friendship … If I had to mark this book out of 10, I would give it 11!” Sidney, aged 11

For all my Superheroes. The show must go on …

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

Chapter One: Ivy

Chapter Two: Scarlet

Chapter Three: Ivy

Chapter Four: Scarlet

Chapter Five: Ivy

Chapter Six: Scarlet

Chapter Seven: Ivy

Chapter Eight: Scarlet

Chapter Nine: Ivy

Chapter Ten: Scarlet

Chapter Eleven: Ivy

Chapter Twelve: Scarlet

Chapter Thirteen: Ivy

Chapter Fourteen: Scarlet

Chapter Fifteen: Ivy

Chapter Sixteen: Scarlet

Chapter Seventeen: Ivy

Chapter Eighteen: Scarlet

Chapter Nineteen: Ivy

Chapter Twenty: Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-one: Ivy

Chapter Twenty-two: Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-three: Ivy

Chapter Twenty-four: Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-five: Ivy

Chapter Twenty-six: Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-seven: Ivy

Chapter Twenty-eight: Scarlet

Chapter Twenty-nine: Ivy

Chapter Thirty: Scarlet

Chapter Thirty-one: Ivy

Chapter Thirty-two: Scarlet

Chapter Thirty-three: Ivy

Chapter Thirty-four: Scarlet

Chapter Thirty-five: Ivy

Chapter Thirty-six: Scarlet

Chapter Thirty-seven: Ivy

Chapter Thirty-eight: Scarlet

Chapter Thirty-nine: Ivy

Chapter Forty: Scarlet

Chapter Forty-one: Ivy

Chapter Forty-two: Scarlet

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Sophie Cleverly

About the Publisher

Chapter One
IVY

As new beginnings go, it was a good one.

The sun was making its first attempt at shining after the long dark winter. I had my twin by my side – Scarlet was lounging on the grass, pretending it was warmer than it really was. Tall trees towered over us, their fresh buds stretching towards the sky.

And, well, we were back at Rookwood School. That part wasn’t so good, but things were better than they were last term. Mrs Knight, the interim headmistress, welcomed us in the foyer with a big smile on her face. The school hadn’t had much luck with headmistresses and headmasters of late – Miss Fox was still on the run after being accused of embezzling money, not to mention hiding my sister in an asylum and pretending she was dead. And Mr Bartholomew had been no better. The cruel headmaster had finally been locked up for his involvement in the death of a pupil decades ago. Now the school was headless, so to speak, and Mrs Knight was left in charge.

We’d had our first day of lessons of the spring term, and there hadn’t been a caning in sight. All the teachers seemed happier. Even Violet seemed happier, and that was a feat in itself.

“Everything’s rather good, isn’t it?” I said to my twin with a happy sigh. I was a little chilly in my thin uniform, and the grass was damp, but the view down the long driveway of the school was beautiful now that everything was turning green again.

Scarlet looked up at me, unimpressed. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

I wasn’t, but I was trying my hardest to be airy and cheerful. Of course, Scarlet had to bring me right back down to earth with a bang. Ariadne. Our best friend had been expelled before Christmas, after she was blamed for the fire that Mr Bartholomew had set to cover his tracks. Even after her name was cleared, her parents didn’t want her coming back to Rookwood.

It felt like there was an Ariadne-shaped hole beside us. Several times that day I’d gone to tell her something, or expected her to pipe up with a jolly comment, only to be met with silence.

“I’m sure she’s happy at home,” I said weakly.

Scarlet sat up, grass stuck all down the back of her dress. “Oh, come on,” she said, giving me a gentle shove. “Cheer up, Ivy, things are better. Let’s make a list.” She pulled out her pen and a tatty notebook, the one she’d been using in place of her old diary. “One: no headteachers are going to try to murder us. Two: no more nasty punishments. Three: everyone’s getting on. Penny has even stopped hating Violet.”

Penny Winchester and Violet Adams were former archenemies of Scarlet, and they’d had their own massive falling-out last term. It was true that they had finally made up, although that mostly involved not speaking to each other. “I’m not sure whether that should be on the list of good things,” I said. “Do we really want them teaming up again?”

My twin chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully. “Good point. All right, scratch that one. Now we need a new number three.”

“Well,” I said, “Christmas was nice.”

We’d been allowed to spend Christmas with our Aunt Phoebe, Father’s scatterbrained sister, after she’d found the courage to stand up to our meddling stepmother. I’d lived with our aunt for years before I came to Rookwood, when Scarlet was away at the school. Although I didn’t like to admit it, she’d always seemed to prefer the company of my twin, which was rather strange given how opposite they were.

“Three: Christmas,” Scarlet said aloud as she jotted it down. As an afterthought, she added, “excellent plum pudding.”

I smiled. It had been so strange for me, seeing Scarlet in the cottage where I’d lived when I believed her to be gone forever. Strange but wonderful. I hadn’t even minded when Aunt Phoebe burned the turkey, or when she’d given me the exact same knitted scarf that she got me last year. This time, Scarlet got one too.

“Four,” she said. “The weather is getting better.”

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “Not as much as I would like. My dress is getting damp. And look at those clouds!”

Scarlet pouted at me and put the notebook away in her pocket. “Ah, but this is different. This is a new year. The promise of spring is in the air!”

She stood up, spread her arms wide and took a deep, relaxing breath.

A raindrop landed on her nose.

We both laughed as we ran through the sudden downpour, back into the school and into our new beginning.

Life went on. And for the first time, school was simple. The weather was a little warmer and brighter. Scarlet and I were woken by the bell each day, went to lessons, ate a disappointing lunch, went to more lessons, and ate tasteless stew for dinner. Straight to bed with no night-time excursions.

I was happier, and I kept telling myself that. After all, there were no secret diary trails, no ghosts to hunt, no teachers waiting round the corner to give you a caning. That was better, wasn’t it?

One March morning, Scarlet sat down next to me in assembly and practically slammed her head on my shoulder. “Ivy,” she declared. “I am utterly bored.”

I let out a sigh, glad that I hadn’t been the one to have to say it. “Me too.”

“For goodness’ sake, let something interesting be announced this assembly,” she moaned.

“Like what?”

Nadia Sayani leant over from the row behind. “Perhaps an untimely death,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“No!” I said. “No more untimely deaths!”

Nadia giggled and sat back again, and my twin grinned mischievously. Then the teachers began their usual round of shushing, so we sat up and paid attention.

“Good morning, girls,” said Mrs Knight, and waited for everyone to chorus their good mornings back. Our head of house had often taken assemblies before, but it was somehow different now that she was in charge of the school. “I have a special announcement for you today.”

Our ears collectively pricked up.

“As I expect you all know, your practice examinations will take place at the end of this term …”

We all groaned. Surely this couldn’t be the special announcement?

She waffled on for some time about the exams. Sunshine was spilling in through the hall windows – even though it wasn’t very warm outside, it was heating the room and all of us inside it, making me drowsy. I was usually a careful listener, but that day I tuned out most of her words.

“And now for the announcement,” Mrs Knight said in a more cheerful voice. “Miss Finch?”

I turned my gaze to the side of the stage, and saw our ballet teacher. She had started using a cane recently, as her old injury was playing up worse than ever. But nonetheless, she gave the hall a friendly smile as she climbed up to the lectern.

“Hello, girls,” she said. “I’m pleased to announce that we will be having a special performance this term from the ballet students.”

I grinned at my twin. That was us!

“They will be dancing the famous ballet Sleeping Beauty. The auditions will be held in a few weeks, and the roles will be chosen by a small judging panel of teachers.”

I swear Scarlet clapped her hands in excitement, a gesture which reminded me a little of someone else.

“And if that wasn’t exciting enough,” Miss Finch said playfully, “it will be taking place in the Theatre Royal in Fairbank. All students and parents will be able to purchase tickets, should they wish to.”

Scarlet’s eyes sparkled with the lights of fame. She was hooked, I could tell. This was her big chance at ballet stardom.

I was excited too, of course, and nervous, but my excitement was dampened. My twin’s enthusiastic response reminded me of the sad, Ariadne-shaped hole on the bench beside me. What was excitement if you had no best friend to share it with?

All Scarlet talked about was the ballet recital for the rest of the day. Not least in ballet class, where she spent more time going on about how brilliant it would be than actually practising.

But my sadness was increasing. By the time we went up to our dorm room to get ready for dinner, I felt like crying.

“What is it, Ivy?” said Scarlet, plonking herself down on the bed beside me. “You’ve been quite the sourpuss all day. Aren’t you happy about the ballet? It’s what we’ve always dreamt of!”

It’s what you’ve always dreamt of, I might have thought, but my mind was elsewhere. I was staring at my bedside table, where a pile of letters from my friend sat. I wasn’t sure whether to admit to my twin what I really felt, but before I could stop myself it came pouring out. “I miss Ariadne,” I said. “I just wish she was here! Things are so dull without her!”

“Oh, thank you very much,” said Scarlet. “Aren’t I good enough for you?”

“You know what I mean,” I replied.

She sighed and lay back on the bed, her head almost hitting the wall. “All right. I miss her too.”

“There’s got to be a way to get her back.” I bit my lip. “I swore that I would. But after what Mrs Knight said …”

“I know. Her father wants her to stay at home.”

I undid my school tie and twisted it round my fingers. “It’s not fair, is it? She did nothing wrong. Her father should let her come back if she wants to.”

“He won’t,” said Scarlet. There was always a hint of anger in her voice when she spoke about it. “She’s his precious daughter. He wants to wrap her in cotton wool and never let her out again.”

It was hopeless.

I blinked back tears as I walked down the hallway to the lavatories. I didn’t want to be soppy in front of Scarlet. I’d only just convinced her that I wasn’t as wet as she’d always thought I was.

But as I walked into the lavatories, I saw someone else I really didn’t want to cry in front of.

Penny stared right at me. “Well, if it isn’t the crybaby,” she sneered.

I said nothing, and tried to ignore her. She hadn’t picked on me so far this term. I had been hoping it would stay that way.

“I’m talking to you, crybaby,” she said. She shoved me, and I fell back against the cold sinks.

“Ow! What was that for?” I said.

“I’m sure you think you’ve won,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You and your sister may have got away with everything, but I don’t forget.”

Penny had a memory like a particularly vindictive elephant. Well, two could play at that game.

“I don’t forget either,” I said, trying to be brave. “I haven’t forgotten that you tried to tell on us to the headmaster, or that you pushed Violet into the lake.”

“We made up,” snapped Penny. “It doesn’t matter any more.”

“Then why are you picking on me again?” I asked. Every time I thought Penny had changed, her old horrible self reappeared just as quickly as it had gone.

“You’re going to shut up and stay away from me,” she growled. “Before I give you something to really cry about.”

Chapter Two
SCARLET

Ivy seemed shaken when she came back into the room. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “Let’s go down for dinner.”

I shrugged. I guessed she was probably still getting herself upset about Ariadne. But what could we do? We didn’t even know where Ariadne lived, so sneaking her away was out of the question. And I didn’t think her father would be easily persuaded to change his mind.

We trudged downstairs, Ivy still being quiet. Maybe we were just going to have to move on. Ivy and I would be a team of two once more.

I took her hand and squeezed it gently, but she didn’t squeeze back.

We made it to the dining room, and joined the queue. I thought maybe a bit of humour might cheer up Ivy, so I put on my poshest voice. “What is it today, Miss?” I said to the dinner lady on duty, who was skinny as a rake and wearing a filthy apron. “Are we having coq au vin? Maybe some steak tartare?”

She frowned at me. “It’s stew,” she said.

I feigned surprise. “Really? How original! What will you come up with next?”

She dumped a ladleful on my plate, spilling half of it over the rim, and then thrust it towards me. “You’ll eat what you’re given,” she said.

I nudged Ivy in the ribs. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy this culinary delight, won’t we, dear sister?”

“Hmm?”

Not even a giggle. The dinner lady was looking at me like she was about to put me in the stew. I sighed. “All right. Fine. I’ll move along.”

We got to our house table, Richmond, and I plonked my tray down.

Prefect Penny was already there, waving her fork about like she was conducting an invisible orchestra. “It will be simply magical,” she was telling Nadia. “I have to be given the role of Aurora. It was practically made for me.”

I glared at her. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the best ballerina here.”

She turned to me, narrowing her freckle-rimmed eyes. “And, as I expected, Scarlet Grey is already jealous. She knows I’m perfect for the part.”

I would have jumped across the table and slapped her, if it wasn’t for Ivy jamming her fork into my leg. “Penelope,” I said bitterly. “The day you win the lead role in a ballet over me is the day Queen Victoria herself comes back from the grave and dances the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

That got a few titters from around the table.

“Girls,” said Mrs Knight, bringing out her warning tone. “Let’s be sensible, please.”

Penny turned back to Nadia. “She’s just bluffing,” I heard her say quietly. “She knows she’s not up to scratch.”

I had to ignore them if I didn’t want a telling-off from Mrs Knight and another fork-stabbing from Ivy. So instead I just wolfed my stew down angrily. What did Penny know, anyway?

I lay awake that night worrying about Penny’s stupid words.

Now, I know I shouldn’t have given a jot about the nonsense Penny came out with. But something she’d said had struck a chord.

She knows she’s not up to scratch.

It was true. I was out of practice.

After all, I’d been locked in an asylum for months.

I shuddered and pulled the sheets up over my shoulders. I didn’t want to think about the asylum again, not now, not ever. It was endless, horrible and dull being trapped there. And worse, the feeling of abandonment, that you were never going to escape …

I shook my head into the pillow. Those thoughts had to be shut out.

I looked over at Ivy, wondering if I should wake her and ask her about my chances. She was snoozing peacefully, a half-finished book dangling from her fingertips. Somehow I wasn’t sure if I could. I always felt that I had to be the strong one, no matter how confident she got. And besides, she probably wouldn’t understand. She loved ballet, but not for the same reasons I did.

For me, it was my dream. It was my ticket to fame and fortune. And I wasn’t about to let anyone take it from me.

I had to be the best.

I was going to find a way to beat Penny and win that role.

Eventually, I don’t know how or when, I fell asleep. And that was when the nightmare came.

I was on stage, the spotlight pouring on to me. There was no music, but I knew the dance anyway. I leapt and twirled, my limbs flowing gracefully.

But something was wrong. Someone out there in the darkness was watching me. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept catching a shadow flitting between the seats. In between each silent phrase of the score, it appeared and then vanished again.

I ground to a halt. I suddenly became aware that the theatre was full of people, all staring at me with blank faces. None of them could see the shadow as it passed behind them.

I shielded my eyes from the spotlight. “Who’s there?” I called.

The shadow didn’t reply. It was lurking, hiding. A person made of smoke, not flesh.

I looked around. I had stopped mid-performance. And now I couldn’t remember where to start again.

From all around me came the sound of hissing.

It was the audience, I realised. They were hissing at me like snakes.

“No,” I tried to say. “It’s not my fault. I’m a good dancer! But there’s something watching me! Can’t you see it?”

The hissing got louder and louder, until it was deafening.

“No!” I yelled, and clamped my hands over my ears.

The shadow swooped out from behind a seat, and began to stalk towards me.

And that was when I toppled from the stage, and into the blackness below.

Chapter Three
IVY

If there was one thing Scarlet hated, it was not being the centre of attention.

I’d had my taste of the spotlight when I was forced by Miss Fox to pretend to be my twin for a term at Rookwood School, and I’d found it exhausting. It brought stares and gossip and trouble. Especially from people like Penny.

But it hadn’t been all bad. For the first time in my life I’d changed things and made things happen, and I had even made a real friend of my own. I’d felt noticed, like I was no longer just a reflection of my twin.

So the centre of attention was a nice place to visit, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to live there.

The moment they announced the ballet recital, I knew Scarlet was going to obsess over the lead role. It was her chance to prove to everyone what she was worth, not just to our fellow pupils but to the teachers and parents and – just maybe, as she excitedly told me on the way to lessons that morning – potential ballet talent scouts. I honestly had no idea if there even was such a thing, let alone whether or not they came to school performances.

“I’m telling you,” said Scarlet, “I’m the best ballerina in the school. Penny’s nonsense doesn’t faze me. She’s like a parrot.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Colourful and feathery?”

“No, you clod!” Scarlet shot back, giving me a jab in the arm. “She’s all squawk. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Not up to scratch. Pah!”

Scarlet was definitely protesting too much. She’d been yelling in her sleep, and I’d had a feeling she was dreaming about the auditions. Now I was worried too. The last thing I needed was for her rivalry with Penny to flare up again.

“I’m sure you could fit in some extra practice somewhere,” I said.

Scarlet came to an abrupt stop outside the English classroom. “Practice?”

“That is traditionally how people do well at things,” I pointed out.

“I don’t need practice!” Scarlet snapped. “I’ll wipe the floor with Penny. You’ll see.”

Our English teacher, Miss Charlett, peered out of the classroom door. “No wiping the floor with anyone, please,” she said. “Come in, girls. You’ll be pleased to hear we’re beginning Oliver Twist today!”

I smiled, but Scarlet just rolled her eyes.

Behave, I mouthed at her, for all the good it would do. My sister’s mind was firmly set on defeating Penny, and toeing the line was the last thing she cared about.

As if to prove me right, Scarlet got three detentions that day. She tried begging me to take them for her, but quickly gave up when she realised I was still cross about her attempt to persuade me to do it last term. Thankfully it now only meant writing lines, instead of a caning or worse.

As I passed Miss Fox’s office on the way back to our room that afternoon, I saw Mrs Knight standing in the doorway, talking to the caretaker – a middle-aged man with overalls and a bushy moustache.

“We really need to get rid of these,” I heard her say, waving at the bizarre collection of stuffed dogs that still populated the office. “They’re rather vulgar, aren’t they?”

He scratched his head. “I s’pose we could sell them,” he said. “To an antiques dealer, pr’aps.”

I stopped, a sudden realisation dawning. “You mean you haven’t moved any of them, Miss?”

“Oh, hello, Ivy,” Mrs Knight said, a little distracted. “No, the whole office has been left just as it was.”

“Right,” I said, frowning. “But, um, there was a Chihuahua on the desk, wasn’t there?” I pointed to the little empty space where it had sat, which was now nothing but a slightly darker patch on the wood. “I remember it. It had pens in its mouth.”

The caretaker grimaced, his lip twisting under his moustache. “Sounds unnatural to me.”

Mrs Knight looked puzzled. “You haven’t touched anything, have you, Harold?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say I like to go in there at all, Miss. Had to fix the window once and that old Miss Fox threatened to give me a whack with her cane if I weren’t quick enough. And all those dead mutts are enough to give any man the heebie-jeebies. Preferred to stay well clear, meself.”

“It probably just got mislaid,” said Mrs Knight. “Perhaps when they were carrying out the investigation.”

I nodded, remembering when I’d seen all the policemen going through her things. “That’s probably it,” I said. “Thank you, Miss.”

“You’re welcome,” the acting headmistress replied. Then she blinked. I think she’d just realised that it was a bit strange of her to talk to a student about such things. “Go and get ready for dinner, then. Where’s your sister?”

“Detention,” I answered, feeling a spike of loneliness.

“Ah,” she said.

I hurried away, leaving them both to discuss what to do with the unfortunate dogs.

But I couldn’t help thinking that Mrs Knight’s explanation was odd. If that little dog wasn’t in the office, given that everything else was still in its original place, then someone had deliberately taken it. And what would the inspectors want with a stuffed Chihuahua that held pens? Come to think of it – who on earth would want it at all?

I waited patiently in our room for Scarlet. I tried to do some prep work, but my mind wouldn’t stay on task.

I thought about telling my sister, I really did. Twins are supposed to tell each other everything, and that was always what we had done …

Or at least, I’d thought so. Until I found out that Scarlet had swapped our exam papers to get into Rookwood School in the first place, because she’d known her marks wouldn’t be good enough. Remembering things like that made me wonder if we could ever really trust one another again.

I doodled on my paper – only realising halfway through that I’d drawn what looked like a tiny dog. I scratched it out.

I wouldn’t tell Scarlet yet. There was no sense in worrying her. And I would keep quiet about Penny’s threat too. Hopefully she would give up and leave me alone. It seemed unlikely, though. As I passed her in the corridor just now she’d tried to trip me, her friends Ethel and Josephine breaking out in peals of laughter.

Around half-past five, my twin barrelled back into our room.

“Finally!” I said, laying down my ink pen.

“Pfft,” she replied, blowing a lock of hair out of her eye. “I’m so sick of detentions. I hate them.”

“You realise there’s a really simple solution to that, don’t you?”

“And what’s that then, Little Miss Know-It-All?” My twin dumped her satchel on to her bed, her workbooks spilling out of it.

“Stop getting into trouble!” Honestly, I wondered how we were related, sometimes.

“Oh, that. Well, obviously. I will. I’ve got the ballet recital to think about now,” she said.

She had that to think about this morning, I thought, and it didn’t make a difference.

“So,” Scarlet continued, leaning over me to grab her silver hairbrush from the desk – the heirloom she’d inherited from our mother. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

I felt my cheeks get a little warmer. “Nothing,” I said. “It’s been very uneventful.”

My twin stared into the mirror as she brushed out her hair, which was the same dark brown as mine. “It’s so strange,” she said suddenly, “imagining our mother brushing her hair here, with this brush.”

“In this room?” I was sceptical. “Probably not.”

“No, not in this exact room. But here, at Rookwood. Isn’t that weird?”

I met my twin’s gaze in the mirror and nodded. Last term we’d found out that our dearly departed mother couldn’t have been who we’d thought she was. She had died shortly after we were born, and all we really knew about her was her name and date of birth: Emmeline Adel, 26/02/1914. But then we’d found those facts written on a memorial plaque for a girl who had drowned in the lake at Rookwood over twenty years ago. Whoever our mother was, it seemed she had been a Rookwood pupil, but she couldn’t have been Emmeline Adel, who had met her unfortunate demise at the hands of the now-incarcerated headmaster, Mr Bartholomew.

Scarlet looked down at the hairbrush in her hands. It had the initials EG on the back, for Emmeline Grey, our mother’s married name. “I see this every day,” she said, “and I just wonder … about everything. What was her real name? Who was she? If she cared. If she’s … watching us now.”

I shivered a little despite myself. “I don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll ever know.”

My twin put the brush down and preened in the mirror. “Do you think she’d be proud?” she asked.

That lightened my mood. “Ha! Proud of your three detentions in one day? Well, I suppose it’s quite the achievement …”

Scarlet whacked me on the shoulder.

“Hurry up, smarty-pants. A horrible dinner awaits us once more.”

I smiled. I could say one more thing about Mother – if Scarlet took after her, she must have been quite a character.

Chapter Four
SCARLET

I was practically buzzing when the time came for ballet class on Friday afternoon. My whole week had been building up to it.

“Come on, come on,” I said to Ivy, dragging her through the corridor towards the studio.

“You don’t have to drag me!” she protested.

“I can walk myself!”

“Then walk faster! I have ballet to attend to!”

We reached the door that led down to the studio in the basement, only to find Miss Finch standing outside it. We were a little early, but it was unusual for her to not be inside already.

“Miss?” I said.

“Oh, good afternoon, girls,” she said. “Go on down, I’ll be right there.” But her voice was shaky.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. She was looking at the stairway as if it were about to bite her, her walking stick clutched under one arm.

“Nothing, really,” she said. “Don’t worry. I just find the stairs a bit … difficult at the moment. I’ll be all right.”

Her brave face wasn’t fooling me. “I’ll go ahead,” I told her, “and Ivy will be right behind you. Just in case …”

She smiled gratefully. “Thank you, girls.”

I took the gaslit steps down into the basement, careful not to go too fast. It was still cold down there, as it had always been.

I reached the bottom and turned to watch our teacher take the last step. She grinned, though her face was pale and I could hear her breathing heavily. “Made it,” she said triumphantly. “Go on. Since you’re early, you can start your warm-up. I’ll be grateful for my piano stool today.”

Ivy and I went over to the barre and started our stretches. The rest of the class weren’t far behind.

Penny and Nadia walked in together, arm in arm. Penny looked annoyingly smug, and I fought the urge to make a cutting remark.

I was working through my pliés in each position, when I saw that Penny was smirking.

I looked down at my feet. Was I doing something wrong? No. I shook myself. It was a simple warm-up exercise, and one I had done a thousand times before, at that. I had to get Penny out of my head.

When we moved to centre work, I didn’t have to look at her, as we all faced forwards. That was fine, until we got to the Allegro portion of the class, where we did the faster steps.

Miss Finch was instructing us from the piano, since she didn’t feel up to demonstrating. I’d heard some of the other girls whispering, saying that she shouldn’t teach a ballet class if she couldn’t always dance. I thought she did a fine job, and I’d always tell them to shut up.

“We really need to work on our pirouettes, girls,” she called. “They need to be polished for Sleeping Beauty, especially for whoever wins the role of Aurora.”

We lined up in rows of three to practise, and, as luck would have it, I ended up with Ivy … and Penny. Ivy looked horrified, but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. Easy, I thought. I can do pirouettes in my sleep.

I kept my eyes fixed and held my body tight. I lifted my back foot, held my arms out and turned quickly, whipping my head around …

And I spun.

But I was off. Just a little. The realisation that I was going to stumble hit me the minutest moment before it happened. I fell forwards, my foot landing heavily on the wooden floor with a thunk.

My nightmare came flashing back. Tumbling from the stage into the darkness.

Penny laughed.

I stood up straight, fists clenched. I didn’t know who I was more furious with, myself or the freckled witch cackling next to me.

“Penny,” Miss Finch chastised, “we don’t laugh at others. Concentrate on yourself, please.”

“Oh, but Miss,” Penny giggled. “Scarlet’s definitely the best ballerina here. She told me so herself!”

And just to rub it in, Penny demonstrated a perfect pirouette right there and then.

Miss Finch still looked cross. “Ballet is about elegance and respect as much as it is about dancing. You’re showing neither.”

Penny bit her lip.

“Sorry, Miss,” said Penny. “I’ll stop it, I promise.”

Ha. I gave her my stealthiest death glare. I knew she was thinking exactly the same as me: trouble in front of teachers would mean no lead role.

Things went from bad to worse. The mistake had completely thrown me off, and I just couldn’t seem to get any of the steps. Ivy kept asking me if I was okay, and I wished she would shut up. I needed to be perfect, and I wasn’t even close.

My turnout wasn’t right. My toes weren’t pointing as much as I wanted them to. My spins were wonky.

And all the while, Penny was smirking silently.

By the time we were curtseying to Miss Finch in reverence, I felt like screaming. What was wrong with me? I knew these moves off by heart. Why wasn’t my body cooperating?

I must really be out of practice, I thought, feeling deeply, horribly embarrassed. The thought of getting it wrong on stage, of all those blank faces hissing at me …

That was when I had the idea.

“Ivy,” I said, as we sat and unlaced our shoes. “Can you go on without me? I want to talk to Miss Finch.”

Ivy looked a little baffled. “Why?”

“Oh well … I’m worried about her, and her leg, and all that.” Which was the truth, just not the whole truth. “I thought I’d stay behind and see if she needs any help.”

“I can help too,” my twin said.

Drat.

“Well, I just … I’d just like to do something for her myself. You know, I still haven’t made it up to her after the piano-smashing thing.”

Ivy twisted her mouth, and I wasn’t sure whether she was seeing through my excuses, or just thinking how stupid I’d been. In the first form, I’d taken a mallet to Miss Finch’s grand piano, then framed Penny for it. It hadn’t been my finest hour.

“All right,” said Ivy eventually, though she still looked unsure. “I’ll see you later.” I watched as she followed the rest of the girls out of the studio, and then wandered over to our teacher.

“Need any help, Miss?” I asked.

Miss Finch smiled at me. “I’ll be all right, Scarlet, but thank you.”

“Oh.” I shuffled my feet.

“Did you want something, perhaps?” There was a twinkle in her eye. Hmmph. She’d seen right through me. I leant back against her new piano and folded my arms.

“I …” I swallowed. The words didn’t want to come out. “I think I need extra help.” I felt my face heating up.

“You’re just a little out of practice, that’s all,” she replied brightly. “You’ll get it back again soon enough. It’s just an off day. We all have those.”

“But you could help me, couldn’t you, Miss? Maybe just … some extra tuition, in the evenings?”

Her brow knitted. “I’m not sure about that. Wouldn’t it be unfair to the other students? If this is about the recital … I’m one of the judges, you know. I can’t be seen to be favouring anyone.”

I racked my brains for a way to convince her. And then it hit me. “But … the reason I’m out of practice … is because of what happened, isn’t it? Miss Fox – your mother – she had me locked up. That’s got to be special circumstances. I’ve not had the same chance to learn as everyone else.”

Miss Finch’s face crumpled a little.

“Scarlet, I’m … I’m so sorry. I would have got you out sooner, if only I’d had any idea. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded, and chewed the corner of my lip.

She sighed. “Come back on Monday evening, after dinner. We’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Five
IVY

I felt sure that Scarlet was up to something, but I couldn’t say what. Perhaps she was just helping Miss Finch out of the goodness of her heart, but that didn’t seem like a very Scarlet thing to do.

I didn’t like being on my own. I walked down the corridor towards our room, and it felt strangely like my very first walk there – where I’d trailed along behind Miss Fox, believing my twin to be dead, not yet knowing Ariadne. The feeling left me hollow.

But worse was to come. Penny was leaning against our door, examining her fingernails.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. Suddenly, the fire I’d picked up from pretending to be Scarlet was back.

She looked up at me. “Alone again, are we? I’m beginning to think your twin doesn’t like you.”

“Penny.” I glared at her. “Why are you leaning on our door?”

“Waiting for you,” she said.

“You told me to stay away from you,” I pointed out. “That’s not easy if you’re blocking the door to my room.”

She ignored me. “Don’t you wonder what she’s up to without you? Getting herself in more trouble, do you think?”

“You wish,” I said. “You just want to stop her getting that part in the ballet, don’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t want to,” said Penny. “I know I will. And you’re going to help me.” Suddenly she stepped forwards and pushed me back against the wall. “She’ll do anything to protect you, won’t she?”

“Let go of me!” I yelled, but it came out more weakly than I’d hoped, more of a squeak than a roar. I looked around the corridor desperately. A group of first years were passing, but they huddled away, looking terrified.

I could really use your help, Scarlet, I thought.

But then again … Penny was right. Scarlet would flip if she saw this. Could I risk that? She could lose that part. Worse, she could be kicked out of school, and then I’d really be alone …

“I mean it, Penny,” I tried again, louder this time, but with my voice shaking.

A door further down the corridor opened, and Nadia peered out. “Penny?” she called. “What are you doing?”

Penny dropped me like a hot iron. My uniform was crinkled from where she’d pinned me against the wall. “Just helping Ivy do up her tie,” she called back, a sickly sweet grin on her face. She turned back to me and winked. Ugh.

As she stalked off to meet Nadia, I took a deep breath. Shortly afterwards Scarlet appeared at the top of the stairs. She sauntered over to me.

“What took you so long?” I asked. I couldn’t mention what had just happened. She’d chuck Penny out of the nearest window. “I still don’t understand why you needed to talk to Miss Finch so badly. Is something up?”

“Nope,” she said all too casually. “Nothing at all.”

“Is something up?” I asked Scarlet again, as we brushed our teeth in the chilly school bathrooms. I still wasn’t convinced things were okay.

“Blurble,” she replied, her mouth full of toothpaste.

“What?”

“I said, no!” She slammed down her regulation toothbrush, which had PROPERTY OF ROOKWOOD SCHOOL stamped into the handle. “Nothing is up, just as it has not been the last five times you asked. Let’s just go to bed, all right?”

“All right. Fine.”

Scarlet was soon snoring, but I lay awake, watching the moonlight dance on the walls through the thin curtains.

There was something troubling me, and it wasn’t just Penny. I still hadn’t mentioned the missing stuffed dog. I’d been trying not to think about it or about anything to do with Miss Fox. She was long gone, I had to remember that.

And that was when I heard it.

Out in the corridor, an unmistakable sound. One I thought I’d never hear again.

The clacking of heels, and the jangling of keys in pockets.

No. Oh no.

“Scarlet!” I whispered, panicked. “Scarlet!”

The sound echoed past, louder and then quieter, as if she were walking right by our door.

It can’t be!

“Scarlet!” I leapt out of bed and dived into my twin’s, grabbing her blanket and pulling it over my head, my heart racing.

“Unf,” she said, giving me a sleepy shove. “What is it? I’m trying to sleep.”

“I heard … I heard …” I stopped, gasping for breath, and listened.

The sound was gone. I could hear nothing except my twin’s breathing, and my own.

“… heard what?” Scarlet asked, putting her head under the blanket next to mine. “What’s the matter?”

“I …” I frowned. Surely I was imagining things. “I don’t know. Sorry. I think I might have been having a nightmare.”

“You are a nightmare,” she replied. “But if it’ll calm you down, you can stay over here.”

“A-all right,” I said. “Night, Scarlet.”

“Night, Ivy,” she murmured. She turned over to face the wall, taking most of the blanket with her.

I rolled on to my side, but my panic refused to fade. Could you dream a sound? Perhaps you could. It was late, after all, and dark, and I was tired.

I tiptoed over to the door, opened it, and cautiously peered out. There at one end of the corridor was Matron, holding a bunch of keys. She yawned, unlocked the door to her room, and stepped in.

I leant back, breathless with relief. It was only Matron. There was nothing to worry about.

*

Scarlet seemed more cheerful the next morning, perhaps because it was the weekend.

I didn’t want to spoil it by blabbing about my worries, and if I said a word about Penny, Scarlet would surely go mad, so I left things well alone.

“Let’s go and find Rose,” suggested my twin at breakfast. “I haven’t seen her in ages!”

“Well, she doesn’t go to lessons, does she?” I said. “She’s not even officially a pupil.”

Nadia leant in. “I think she’s down at the stables most days. I heard Mrs Knight saying she’s a natural with horses. Happy to muck them out, apparently!” She pulled a face.

We’d met Rose last term, when Violet had rescued her from the asylum – we’d never quite figured out whether it was true friendship or the promise of a family fortune that had motivated Violet. The mysterious girl had always loved horses and ponies, and we’d even found Rose in the stables one night when she’d escaped the hidden room where she’d been staying.

Ariadne loved ponies too, I thought. I felt another pang of loneliness for our missing friend. Perhaps a visit to Rose would help.

As soon as we’d gulped down our porridge, we headed outside to the stable yard. It was a warm day, with the sun peeking through the clouds and a hint of spring (and only a little drizzle) in the air. We tramped through the mud and straw that lay scattered on the ground.

I spotted Rose’s blonde hair over the top of one of the stable doors.

“Hello, Rose,” I said.

She looked up, stepped out of the stall and waved a shovel at me. Rose wasn’t usually one for words.

“How are the horses?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure if Rose would answer at first, but she had been getting a little better at talking lately – especially if it was to do with horses. She twisted her golden locket nervously before tucking it inside her jumper.

“Good,” she replied decisively. Then she paused, and stared back at the stall she had just come out of. “This one isn’t hungry,” she added quietly.

Scarlet snorted. “I’m going to go and give one a new hairstyle,” she said, grabbing a brush and wandering off across the yard.

But she hadn’t noticed which horse Rose was talking about.

Stall number four. Raven. The big black horse that belonged to …

Miss Fox.

I stepped closer to Rose and lowered my voice. “Why isn’t he hungry?” I asked.

Rose leant the shovel back against the wall, then gestured at me to follow her over to the stable door. She pointed inside.

Raven was lazing in the far corner, lying down and looking – though perhaps it was just my imagination – a little fatter than he had before. But what I wasn’t imagining was what Rose was trying to show me: there were bits of treats left scattered in the straw. A carrot top. An apple stalk. A few loose shavings where the big horse’s teeth had carved slices off the veg.

It was clear from the puzzled expression on Rose’s face that she wasn’t responsible for them.

“Maybe it was the other girls,” I said, trying to reassure us both. “Maybe some of the first years thought they’d give him some extra treats.”

Rose nodded, her long blonde locks bobbing gently. “They do that sometimes,” she whispered.

“Look!” Scarlet called from across the yard. She’d plaited a horse’s hair over its eyes. I sighed and walked over to her. “Scarlet? Remember not getting into trouble?”

My twin just grinned. “The horses can’t make me write lines,” was all she said.

Chapter Six
SCARLET

The weekend had been fun, but for once I couldn’t wait for it to end. We’d walked to the village shop and bought midnight feast sweets, as was our tradition, even if it felt strange to do it without Ariadne.

But I was waiting for Monday. Not only would I get to do ballet, but also I’d get my extra tuition with Miss Finch.

I was restless for most of the day, but I made sure to not get in too much trouble. The last thing I wanted was another blasted detention.

At least Ivy had stopped incessantly asking me what was on my mind. I knew I ought to say something, but there was a lot I ought to do.

Ivy tells you everything, my brain insisted.

Pfft. It wasn’t as if my extra practice would have to be a secret forever. Just until I got the part.

Ballet was the last lesson of the day, and I felt both excited and, well, a little nervous.

To my relief, everything went fairly smoothly – even queen witch Penny seemed to be on her best behaviour. We practised a small section from the beginning of Sleeping Beauty.

But I couldn’t stop second-guessing myself. Was my leg as straight as Nadia’s? Were Ivy’s jumps higher than mine? I didn’t even dare look at Penny, because if she was any better than me, I didn’t want to know.

It’s all fine, I told myself over and over. You’ll get your extra practice. Then you’ll be the best.

It was all I could do to not say anything to Miss Finch when the lesson was over. I really wanted to make sure she hadn’t forgotten, or worse, changed her mind. But if I said anything, I’d give myself away. It’d be one thing if Ivy found out, but I couldn’t risk Penny knowing. I’d be utterly humiliated.

So Ivy and I traipsed back to room thirteen, and I pretended nothing was different.

“Oh!” I yelled suddenly, as we reached our door.

“What?” asked Ivy.

I spread my empty hands out wide. “I forgot my toe shoes. I must have left them in the studio.”

My twin looked exasperated. “What’s wrong with you this week? You never forget your shoes.” Her own soft pink shoes were dangling from her arm.

“Dunno,” I said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ll go back down and get them. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Try to make it back before dinner,” she replied.

You’ll be lucky, I thought.

I was almost out of breath by the time I reached the studio. What if Miss Finch changed her mind? I had rather guilt-tripped her into it …

But there she was, sitting at her piano stool, just as she always did.

“I’m back!” I announced.

She smiled at me. “I can see that. Let’s get started.”

She watched as I pirouetted over and over, trying to get it just right.

“Engage your core muscles,” she said. “Keep your eyes up.”

Every time I did a pirouette I felt a little less dizzy, and a little more confident. But I was still wobbling.

“You don’t need to push yourself quite so hard. You’ll throw the turn off. You’re not trying to spin as fast as you can.” She pointed to my head. “Imagine yourself doing it perfectly, in a controlled way.”

I took a deep breath, and made sure my starting plié was right. That final time, I spun the pirouette without a wobble.

“Excellent!” said Miss Finch, clapping her hands. “Keep it up. I think that’s enough for now.”

I had to say something. “Miss?”

“Yes?”

I couldn’t quite meet her eye. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. What Miss Fox did to me wasn’t your fault. I hope you don’t think you have to help me just because of that.”

She looked up, her eyes searching my face. “Oh, Scarlet. It’s quite all right. You haven’t had as much time as the other girls, so I don’t mind doing this bit extra for you.”

“Are you sure?” I really wanted that to be true.

“I’m sure. Now come on, you need to get up to dinner. There’s still time if you go quickly.”

“Yes, Miss! Thank you, Miss!” I beamed.

“Don’t forget to get changed,” she said with a grin. That was a good point. I’d get all manner of questioning if I turned up at the dinner hall in my ballet clothes. Not to mention I’d probably never get the smell of stew out of them. “I’ll see you again on Friday.”

“Thank you,” I said again. I was repeating myself, but I meant it. This time she didn’t reply, just went back to happily playing the piano.

Things were finally looking up.

When I reached our dorm, Ivy had already gone to dinner without me. I threw my uniform back on and headed down to the dining hall to join her.

She was not entirely pleased.

“Where on earth have you been?” she demanded loudly over the racket of the hall as I slid into my seat. “I was worried sick!”

“I just …” I started. “I went to get my shoes back from the studio, and I got talking to Miss Finch.”

My twin looked sceptical. “Well it was a long talk,” she said. “You were gone for ages. I was getting anxious.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, slamming down my knife and fork. “Can’t I do anything on my own without you having a panic about it?”

Ivy gave me the look that she’d developed recently: the one that said I thought you were dead, so cut me some slack.

But this time it wasn’t going to work. I was fed up of her using that as an excuse to keep tabs on me. “I was fine,” I said pointedly. “We were just talking about the ballet recital. Nothing happened. This school isn’t dangerous any more!”

Mrs Knight suddenly appeared behind Ivy. “You’re quite right, Scarlet. Rookwood is a safe place for everyone, I will be making sure of that!”

I looked up at her. She’d said that as if she’d been practising in front of a mirror.

“Uh … thank you, Miss?” said Ivy.

It was quite unusual for Mrs Knight to join in our conversations. She seemed to register our surprise. “Yes,” she said, “I think it’s important that everyone knows how different things are these days.”

“You mean now that headteachers aren’t trying to murder us any more?” I asked.

“Scarlet!” She looked affronted. “Well, really!”

Nadia looked up. “She’s not lying though, Miss. At least one of them was a murderer. The other—”

“That’s quite enough,” snapped Mrs Knight. “This is a new Rookwood School, and I won’t hear any more about the past. Let’s all move forwards, please.”

“Yes, Miss,” we chorused. She bustled away, her cheeks red.

We ate our dinner quietly after that. At least Mrs Knight’s interruption had saved me from any further interrogation by Ivy. But how long could I keep my extra ballet lessons a secret? Maybe Mrs Knight wasn’t going to try to kill me, but if Ivy found out I’d been lying to her … it wasn’t going to end well.

Chapter Seven
IVY

That evening, I lay in my lukewarm bath and tried as hard as I possibly could to stop worrying.

It wasn’t working out particularly well. Just being in the bathrooms always reminded me of the first time I’d set foot in there, when I’d been hunting for one of the pieces of Scarlet’s diary. When I’d first come to Rookwood School, I’d truly believed that she was dead, and that the paper trail she’d scattered was all that was left of my sister. It made my toes curl just thinking about it.

And worse – just after I’d found the pages, I’d been ambushed by Penny. Even if we were truly safe from the teachers, Penny was still desperate to give me nothing but trouble.

I shivered as I climbed out of the bath and wrapped myself in a threadbare towel. It was times like these that I really missed my Aunt Phoebe’s house. There was something so comforting about the tin bath in front of the fire, even if you had to fill it yourself with the kettle.

As I changed into my nightgown, I had the idea to write to my aunt. I made sure to do so every now and again, even if her replies often didn’t entirely make sense.

I peered round the corner before I left the bathroom, just in case Penny was lurking. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

Scarlet was already back in our room, practising ballet. There really wasn’t much room, but that didn’t stop her.

“Don’t mind me,” she said.

“I won’t,” I snapped back, dodging round her to get to my bed. I still hadn’t forgiven her for disappearing earlier.

My twin just ignored me and carried on doing pliés. Typical.

I reached under my bed and pulled out my satchel, where I had some sheets of paper and a pencil. At least I could write letters without having to worry about them being intercepted by the teachers any more.

Dear Aunt Phoebe,

I hope this finds you well. I miss you. Thank you for having us to stay at Christmas. If you can’t find the turkey knife, it’s because Scarlet was using it to try and carve a sword out of a branch.

Things seem to be better here at school. Mrs Knight says we’re all safe and I hope that’s true, but some things have happened that are making me worried … Perhaps I’m over-thinking it. I don’t want to scare Scarlet, or make her angry.

Speaking of Scarlet, she’s been

“Are you writing about me?” said my twin suddenly, her face appearing over the top of my paper. I jumped so quickly that I almost crumpled the whole page into a ball.

“Scarlet! Go away! It’s private!”

“Private?” she frowned. “Since when? You’re only writing to Aunt Phoebe.”

I flattened the paper against my nightgown so that she couldn’t read it. “How do you know that?”

“Who else would you be writing to? You already wrote to Ariadne just the other day, so unless you’ve suddenly decided to try and rebuild our relationship with Father, I assume you’re writing to Aunt Phoebe. Come on, let me see—”

“Scarlet!” This was exasperating beyond belief. “When you vanish for an hour I’m apparently prying if I want to know where you’ve been, but then you demand to read my letters! How is that fair?”

“Hmmph,” she said, and threw herself down on her bed, unlacing her ballet shoes so hastily I thought she was going to break them. “I just think that sometimes we should share things. Maybe not all the time.” She chucked the shoes at the chair.

I glared at her. I knew exactly what she meant. She meant that we should share everything when it suited her, and not otherwise. “I’m going to sleep,” I said finally.

“Fine. Me too.”

“Brilliant.”

There was a long pause, as both of us lay back on our beds and stared at the ceiling, flooded with anger that neither of us wanted to release.

“Ivy?”

“What?”

“The light’s still on.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, I climbed up and went over to flick off the light switch. Room thirteen was plunged into darkness. Even the moon wasn’t shining that night, but was buried under grey clouds.

Back in my bed, on my blessedly no longer quite so lumpy mattress, I tried desperately to sleep. Unfortunately, though, sleep is one of those things where trying desperately to achieve it only results in it never happening.

I turned to look at my twin, but I could barely make out her shape, just a lump of blanket. So I stared up at the ceiling instead, until eventually I drifted off into a peculiar dream. One that I’d had a few times in the past month or so, but each time it altered slightly, unnerving me even more.

I was standing on a hill, green grass waving softly around my feet. I could feel the summer heat on my back. The sky was blue, the sun blindingly bright.

There was someone in front of me, sitting in the grass on a threadbare picnic blanket.

It was a woman, and I felt sure, somehow, that it was our mother.

She never turned around. She just sat there, a black silhouette against the sky. I tried to move towards her, to touch her, but I was rooted to the spot. I called her name – Emmeline – but my voice faded to nothing in the breeze. She couldn’t hear me.

Or perhaps – I realised, in the strange way you think in your sleep – it was the wrong name?

She wasn’t Emmeline, was she? Emmeline had died when she was just a girl.

Mother! I called, trying to pull my feet from the ground, but it was as though they had grown into the grass, the roots pulling me down. Mother! I’m here!

Still the figure didn’t turn.

I slept on …

And then, in the middle of the night, I awoke with a start.

Someone was trying our door handle.

I watched, sick with horror, as it turned. Time slowed to a crawl. Scarlet didn’t even stir in the opposite bed.

The door creaked open, just a fraction.

“Who-who’s there?” I whispered, as loudly as I dared.

The door thumped back into place, and the handle sprang up.

And I could have sworn that I heard the jangling of keys in pockets, and the clacking of heels as someone hurried away.

Chapter Eight
SCARLET

I thought I’d been the one acting strangely that week, but Ivy was really taking the biscuit.

When I woke up on Tuesday morning, she was sitting by our dorm-room door and staring at it as if it were about to sprout legs and walk away.

“What are you doing, you oddball?” I murmured sleepily.

“Nothing,” she said, but she looked guilty about it.

She was quiet and jumpy for the rest of the day. I only had to speak to her and she would flinch as if I’d given her a slap. In biology, Mrs Caulfield asked her to get something from the cupboard and she just started panicking.

“Miss, I can’t, I’m … not feeling well!” she said, and ran out of the classroom.

When lessons were over, I cornered her in the corridor. “What happened last night? Did someone kidnap my sister and replace her with a total wimp?”

She opened her mouth and gawped at me like a stunned fish. For a moment I expected her to start yelling – ever since we’d been reunited, she’d been so much more … well, like me. She’d stand up for herself, argue back.

But now … it was like the old Ivy had reappeared. She looked like she wanted to shrink into the wall. I watched her face carefully.

“I—” she started, then bit her lip. “Actually,” she said, “there was something. I keep having this dream.”

I took her arm as we started to walk back to our dorm, steering her through the crowds of uniformed girls. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s about our mother, I … I think. I’m on this hill, and she’s sitting there in front of me, but I can’t see her face. And I can’t get her to turn round.”

I shrugged – as much as you can shrug with your arm through someone else’s. “All right, it sounds weird, I admit. I’ve had some pretty unusual dreams myself recently. That doesn’t seem particularly scary, or anything.” I was thinking of my nightmares with the rooftop and the dark stage, but I swiped the thought away before it could bother me.

We climbed the stairs slowly. “It just … it feels so wrong,” she said. “Like I’m doing something wrong. Because no matter what I do, I can’t get to her. And she won’t hear me.”

“Well, she is dead,” I said, but the look on my twin’s face told me that was not a very tactful thing to say. “Sorry.”

“I know. But I had a realisation – I kept calling her Emmeline. At first I thought that maybe it’s not her, maybe it’s the shadow of someone else.” I shuddered. “But if she wasn’t called Emmeline, then …”

I snapped my fingers, almost right in the face of Ethel Hadlow, who glared at me as she passed. “You don’t know her real name. So that’s why you can’t get her attention!”

“I-I think that might well be it,” Ivy said. “Not that the dream is real, or anything, but …”

“But it made you think, yes?” We reached room thirteen, and I went to turn the door handle. I could’ve sworn Ivy flinched at that too.

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “There’s got to be a way to—”

“Hello!”

Both of us nearly jumped out of our skin. It was Ariadne.

She was sitting on my bed. Ivy backed up against the wall, gasping.

“Ariadne?” we exclaimed.

“I’m sorry!” she said, hurriedly jumping to her feet. “I didn’t mean to be scary. Was I scary?”

“Only mildly terrifying,” I replied, my heart thumping a little. I hadn’t expected anyone to be there, let alone our absent friend.

“Sorry!” she said again. “Well … hello.” She looked sheepish.

I bounced over to her. “Come on,” I said, “we’ll need a bit more than that. You were expelled! What are you doing here?”

“I came back,” she said, as if that weren’t evident from her standing right there in the middle of our room.

“But how?” said Ivy, before we both hugged Ariadne.

“Mmf,” Ariadne said, so we stopped squeezing her quite so much and stood back a little to give her some air. “Well,” she said triumphantly, “I persuaded Daddy. Since they found out it was the headmaster who started the fire in the library and not me, the school had no objection to letting me in again.”

“But Mrs Knight said there was no way your father would let you come back. Because he thinks it’s too dangerous for you to go outside, or something.”

“Well, I … might have threatened to tell Mummy that he ran over her prize petunias when he was trying out the new Bentley.” Ariadne carried on staring at her feet, her face red.

Ivy’s eyes widened. “You blackmailed your father?”

“Oh no! I mean, it’s not blackmail, is it? Well, he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. He’s not even supposed to drive a motor car, that’s Horace’s job …” Her mouth kept on flapping uselessly.

“Ariadne, you silly goat!” I shook our friend gently by the shoulders. “It doesn’t matter if you locked him in the basement to get back here. You did it!”

Her face lit up. “I did it! I’m back!”

I ran out into the corridor, nearly tripping over the little trail of suitcases. “Ariadne’s back!” I yelled to no one in particular.

Penny leant out of the doorway of her room and glared at me. “Nobody cares!” she shouted.

But even wicked witch Penny couldn’t dampen my mood. We were a proper team again. This was utterly brilliant. I danced into room thirteen, and spun Ariadne around.

“Bit dizzy now, Scarlet!” she said primly, and I let her go.

Ivy was grinning like a loon. “I can’t believe it,” she kept saying.

I sat down at the dressing table and blew a lock of hair off my face. “So,” I said, “where are they putting you, now that Violet and Rose are roomies?”

“Apparently I’m to go in one of the bigger dorms with the first formers,” Ariadne said. She went out into the corridor and picked up one of her suitcases. “I’m actually rather excited. They’ll love my midnight feasts, don’t you think?”

Ivy laughed. “I’m sure they will,” she said.

“Oh, wonderful,” said Ariadne, sinking on to the bed in relief. “Anyway,” she said suddenly, “did I interrupt you? You were talking about something …”

Ivy sat down on her bed. “I was thinking about our mother,” she said. “I had this dream about her, and— Oh! You don’t know!”

“Know what?” Ariadne asked.

Ivy gave me a quick glance – neither of us had explained. Nor had we put it in our letters. The truth had seemed too strange and secret to risk the teachers finding out, even the good ones. “After you were expelled, we went looking for the memorial plaque to the girl who drowned in the lake. And we found it, but it wasn’t exactly what we were expecting …” I paused, not wanting to waste a good moment for dramatic effect. “The name on it was our mother’s. Or at least, what we thought was our mother’s.”

“Your mother was a ghost?” exclaimed Ariadne. Her voice was reaching peak squeakiness levels.

“No, no,” Ivy waved her hands desperately. “At least, I don’t think so. We think that Emmeline Adel must not have been her real name.”

“Hmm.” Ariadne wrinkled her nose. She looked utterly baffled. “Well, who was she then?”

“Not the faintest,” I said. “A pupil at this school, I suppose. That’s as much as we know.”

“Oh!” said Ariadne suddenly. “Was she one of the Whispers, do you think?”

That was a good point. Last term, when we’d discovered Rose hiding in the secret room below the library, we’d also uncovered the Whispers in the Walls. They were a top-secret club who, twenty years ago, had vowed to bring down Headmaster Bartholomew and reveal the truth about what he’d done to the pupils of Rookwood – including the murder of the real Emmeline Adel. We’d had their book full of coded writing, but it had been destroyed in the fire, along with the staircase down to the secret room.

“I suppose she might well have been,” Ivy replied. “If only we hadn’t lost that notebook …”

“I might be able to remember some of the names from the wall,” Ariadne said, in between thoughtfully chewing on one of her nails.

Suddenly, an idea flashed brightly in my mind. “We ought to talk to Miss Jones! She went to school here, didn’t she? She might have known our mother!”

Ivy beamed at me. “That’s a brilliant idea!”

“Um, I think she’s away,” said Ariadne. “I went past the library earlier and I didn’t see her in there.”

“She probably needed some time off,” said Ivy. “She was really upset about the library. It was in such a state after the fire.”

I hadn’t been there yet, but Ivy said it still smelt faintly of smoke, and a lot had had to be replaced. Miss Jones had been totally distraught about the loss of her precious books.

I went over and patted Ariadne on the back. “Dinner?” I said.

“Oh! Yes!”

I grinned. If Ariadne had missed Rookwood’s school dinners, there was definitely something wrong with her!

Miss Jones the librarian was indeed away that week, Mrs Knight confirmed at the Richmond dining table. Our inquisition would have to wait.

The days leading up to Friday were a blur as I counted down the hours to my next secret ballet session. And of course, I had to come up with a way to distract Ivy. There was no way she was going to believe me if I tried to use the shoe excuse again.

Things got even more tricky when I happened to pass Miss Finch in the hallway. “Ah, Scarlet,” she said. “Could you come down after dinner on Friday? I think I’ll need a bit of a longer rest after the lesson.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said, a lot more brightly than I felt. “I’ll see you then.”

On Friday, our ballet lesson flew by, almost quite literally, as were practising tour jetés. I felt that I was getting better – but was I good enough?

I gave Miss Finch a little wave as class finished, not daring to be any more obvious. And I barely touched my dinner – which was part of the plan, but honestly I felt too nervous to eat.

“What’s wrong, Scarlet?” Ivy asked. “I know you hate the stew, but it’s not actually that bad today.”

“I don’t feel well,” I said. “I think I might … be sick.” I gagged a little for effect.

“Goodness,” said Mrs Knight. She edged her chair backwards as if I were about to spew all over her. “To the sick bay, quickly!”

I nodded, pushed my chair back and hurried out of the hall. I felt ashamed seeing the worried looks on Ivy and Ariadne’s faces. There was some chuckling from Penny’s direction, but I tried to ignore it. It was better than her knowing what was really going on.

I rushed through the corridors, pulling my ballet outfit out of my satchel as I went. I had to dart into an empty classroom and tug on my leotard and tutu. As I stuffed my uniform into the bag, I really hoped no one would try to check up on me in the sick bay. I decided to leave my bag hidden behind a desk, and come back for it later.

I made it to the door of the ballet studio, which was swinging open, and peered down the stairs.

All was quiet. I couldn’t hear the tinkle of Miss Finch’s piano keys, or any sound of her walking around. It suddenly seemed a little too quiet.

Come on, Scarlet, I told myself. Don’t be a wet blanket.

I took a deep breath, and the first step.

And as I got nearer I realised what else was wrong.

It was dark.

The gas lamps that always burned brightly in the studio were out.

I felt my heart speed up.

“Miss?” I called. “Miss Finch?”

There was no reply.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a small candle holder on the wall. I fumbled for it, and found a waxy stub with the wick still intact, and a match balanced on the side. I tried to stay calm, but my hand shook as I struck the match on the wall and lit the candle. A flame sputtered to life.

I held it out in front of me, and I saw …

Myself and the candle, reflected a million times in the mirrors.

The piano, the stool tipped on its side.

And Miss Finch’s walking stick, lying in the middle of the floor …

Chapter Nine
IVY

Scarlet flung open the door of room thirteen and strode in.

She found me sitting on the bed, arms folded. “Where have you been?” I demanded.

She looked at me crossly. “I was ill, remember? I went to the sick bay.”

I stood up. “Except you didn’t. Ariadne and I hurried up there as soon as we could to see if you were all right! Nurse Gladys said she hadn’t even seen you!”

My twin just glared at me. She hated being caught out in a lie. “It doesn’t matter,” was all she said.

“It does matter,” I shot back. I wanted to tell her that I was afraid something had happened to her again. The things I’d been seeing and hearing around school had only made it worse.

“Leave it,” she warned, throwing herself on her bed.

Suddenly, I noticed something strange. “You weren’t wearing your ballet outfit before!”

Her face was in her pillow, but she tipped it towards me. “I said, it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to do some ballet, alone, all right?”

“Fine,” I said. “Well, I’m going to tell Ariadne that you’re not sick, and then I’m going to have a bath and brush my teeth, alone.”

“I don’t need to know every detail of your life,” she grumbled.

Hmmph. I got up, picked up my things and headed towards Ariadne’s new dorm. It was some way down the corridor, in the section with the larger dorms for first years.

Unfortunately, I forgot that visiting Ariadne also meant going past Penny’s door.

I shut my eyes and held my breath as I walked, as if this would somehow protect me. But as soon as I approached, Penny’s door was yanked open. “So is your sister terribly ill, or do I need to tell everyone that she’s just pretending? I don’t know which I’d prefer.”

“Shut up, Penny,” I said, and kept on walking.

“So she’s fine?” Penny put on a mock expression of horror. “And she lied to a teacher?” She pulled out her prefect book and waved it at me. “I’ll be writing that one down.”

I dug my shoes into the threadbare hall carpet. “Mr Bartholomew’s gone. You’re not his stupid prefect any more.”

“I’m still a prefect, Grey,” she snapped back. “Which means I can do no wrong.” She smiled sweetly, the sweetness of eating too many chocolates that leads to you being sick. “See you soon.” She slammed the door.

I gritted my teeth. Ignore her, I told myself as I walked on. Count to ten.

Thankfully, once I got to my tenth step, Ariadne came out of her dorm, carrying her Rookwood regulation towel, toothbrush and soap. Relieved, I hurried over.

“Ariadne!” I called out. “Scarlet’s fine. She’s in a complete huff, but otherwise unharmed.”

“Oh, phew,” my friend said, tucking a lock of mousy hair behind her ear. “Where did she go?”

“No idea,” I said. “Something to do with ballet. She won’t say.”

Ariadne shrugged, nearly dropping her towel in the process. “Are you coming to the bathrooms too?”

I nodded. “Let’s go together. I don’t want to run into … anyone. Else.”

Ariadne looked at me strangely, but she didn’t say anything.

I stepped out of the chilly little room with the bath in it, shivering in my nightgown. Ariadne came out of the one next door, but she somehow looked a lot better than I did.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. “Those lukewarm baths are awful.”

“Oh, Daddy used to make me take cold baths for my ‘health’,” she said disdainfully. “I find these much more pleasant.”

I laughed, and she grinned.

We headed back to room thirteen. I knocked politely on the door, just in case Scarlet was changing. “Go away,” came the muffled voice from within.

Hmmph. Well, if we weren’t being polite, so be it. I pushed open the door and went in, Ariadne trailing behind me.

Scarlet was writing something in her new notebook. As soon as she saw us, she shoved it under her sheets.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “I’m fed up with all the secrecy.” Hypocrite, my mind said. Yes, well, I told myself. You can’t tell her about Penny, for her own good. “What’s going on? Why are you so cross all of a sudden?”

Ariadne peered around me. “What’s up, Scarlet?” she asked a bit more diplomatically. “Are you still ill? In your ballet clothes?”

Scarlet finally seemed to give in. “All right,” she snapped. “But promise you won’t tell anyone? I don’t want Penny the Slug hearing about this.”

“Promise,” said Ariadne eagerly.

“Miss Finch was supposed to give me extra ballet lessons, okay?” She looked really embarrassed.

“Why?” I asked. Scarlet had always been so wonderful at ballet, I didn’t think she needed extra help.

“Because I didn’t think I was good enough,” she mumbled at the carpet.

I frowned and sat on my bed. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want anyone knowing,” she snapped. “But that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Ariadne asked, plaiting her damp hair with fumbling fingers. It always made her nervous when Scarlet was angry.

“After I pretended to be sick – sorry – I went down to the ballet studio. All that effort and Miss Finch wasn’t even there!” She punched her mattress. “I can’t believe she’s let me down. I waited and waited. She obviously doesn’t care.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to let you down,” said Ariadne, trying to be cheerful.

I agreed. “Something important probably came up. Perhaps she had a meeting or a doctor’s appointment.”

“Hmmph,” said Scarlet. “She should’ve told me.”

“It wasn’t a proper lesson, though,” Ariadne pointed out. “And if she came to tell you, wouldn’t that mean everyone would know she was tutoring you?” Ariadne was always the wise one.

“I suppose,” said Scarlet.

“Let’s just forget about it and … and … read a nice book or something,” my friend said with a smile. “I’m sure she’ll explain what happened the next time you see her.”

But something about this wasn’t sitting right with me. I didn’t know if it was the mysterious things I’d been noticing, or the dark dreams, but I had this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. “There wasn’t anything … unusual, was there? In the studio, I mean?”

Scarlet sighed, picking at her bedsheets. “Well, her stool was knocked over. And her stick was on the floor. I thought perhaps she’d hurt herself and gone into the office to sit down, but I knocked and there was no one there.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Scarlet, she can’t … she can’t get up the stairs without her stick, can she? And if she wasn’t down there …”

Ariadne’s face paled. “Do you think something’s happened to her?”

I didn’t want to say what was on my mind. “We need to tell someone, just in case. This doesn’t feel right.”

“No, said Scarlet. “We can’t, we …”

“We have to,” said Ariadne, suddenly taking charge. She puffed out her chest. “Let’s find Mrs Knight.”

Scarlet looked distraught. “I can’t say why I was meeting her! Nobody can know about it!”

“Scarlet, this isn’t the time to worry about saving your own skin,” I said angrily.

“Ssh!” said Ariadne, waving a finger at me. “Ssh ssh ssh! No more arguing. If we can’t tell Mrs Knight about Scarlet’s extra lessons, we’ll have to tell her something else. Why don’t we tell her we were all supposed to be meeting Miss Finch, to, um … talk about the ballet? We’ll say we were going to paint the scenery or something.”

I bit my lip. None of us had an ounce of set-painting talent, but Mrs Knight didn’t know that.

“But I already told her I was sick,” said Scarlet. She certainly looked sick now.

“We’ll say Ivy and I were the ones looking for her,” Ariadne explained. “And you just came back to your room for a rest, and now you feel better. Anyway, won’t she be more concerned about what’s happened to Miss Finch?”

Of course, that was the important thing. My twin and I would have to put our differences behind us.

“Right,” I said, and got shakily back to my feet. “Let’s go.”

I just hoped we weren’t too late.

Chapter Ten
SCARLET

We were too late.

By the time we got down to her office, Mrs Knight must have already gone home. She lived in accommodation near the school, but I couldn’t say where.

I kicked the door and just about restrained myself from cursing.

“What are we going to do now?” Ariadne wailed.

“We could call the police,” I said.

Ivy gave me a look that said she thought I was being ridiculous. “How exactly are we going to call them? The offices are locked. And even if we could get to a telephone, what would we say? A teacher’s been missing for an hour? They’ll laugh at us!”

She was right, and I hated it. Our only hope was to talk to the teachers. But most of them had gone home, with the exception of the few staff that stayed overnight. I swallowed. In the past, that had included Miss Finch, when she’d had nowhere else to go. I tried my hardest not to picture her walking stick lying there in the middle of the floor.

“We can try and tell Matron,” I said finally. “But I doubt she’ll be any use.”

We went to the door of Matron’s room, only for her to bustle straight into us in her housecoat.

“Oof! Girls,” she said, narrowing her neatly plucked eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be getting ready for bed. It’s lights-out soon, you know!”

“We know, Miss,” said Ivy. “We’ve got a … problem …”

“If you’re here to tell me that Josephine Wilcox has been running laps of the corridor in her swimsuit, I already know. That’s what I was just on the way to sort out.”

“No!” I said quickly, before she could push past us. “It’s Miss Finch. We’re worried something’s happened to her.”

Matron stopped in her tracks and looked down at us – or, more accurately, across, because she wasn’t very tall. “Whatever makes you say that? She’s gone home to bed, I’m sure.”

I glanced at Ariadne, hoping she remembered her part of the plan. She took a deep breath and then gave her explanation without, it seemed, taking another one. “Well, Miss, we were on our way to visit Miss Finch, Miss, because she asked us to, you see, it was about the ballet recital, and we were going to paint the scenery, a lovely castle and some trees, you know, that sort of thing, and so we’d arranged a time to meet her this evening, so we went down there, Miss, and—”

At this point Ivy had the sense to push Ariadne out of the way before she dropped dead from forgetting how her lungs worked. “Miss Finch wasn’t there,” she said simply.

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