Читать книгу Scarlet and Ivy – The Lost Twin - Sophie Cleverly, Sophie Cleverly - Страница 12

t six o’clock it was time for dinner. I had spent an hour listening to Ariadne telling me about her beloved pony, Oswald, and her dog, and her chickens. The whole time I was becoming more and more aware that I hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I would have to go down and find food, but that meant facing more people who knew Scarlet. Surely they would see through my pretence?

I left the room with Ariadne chattering away behind me. There was no need to worry about where the dining hall was – all I had to do was follow the stream of girls flowing down the stairs. I tried to disappear, to not to think about their staring eyes.

“… and we’ve got this huge duck pond full of fish, you know, really really huge. It even has a bridge across it.”

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” I asked, turning to look at her as we walked.

Ariadne blinked, her train of conversation derailed. “No. It’s just me and Mummy. And Daddy, sometimes. I wish I did, though. What about you?”

“Um, yes. I have a sister. But she … goes to another school. And some brothers, I suppose. Stepbrothers, really.”

Ariadne sighed. “How lovely.”

“You haven’t met them,” I said.

The dining hall was an enormous noisy room with rows of tables, all filled with girls. There was a long hatch in the wall that looked into the kitchen, and through it the cooks were spooning steaming food on to plates. Whatever the food was, the whole room smelt strongly of stew. Ariadne and I joined the back of the dinner queue. I’d never seen so many people in one place.

Everyone was talking at once, and the air was filled with the sounds of knives scraping and glasses clinking. I wanted to clamp my hands over my ears to block it all out.

Then I spotted Miss Fox, who looked very much like she wanted to do the same. She was standing at the far end of the hall, tapping a wooden cane against the side of her leg. I swallowed, uneasily.

I took a tray and a cheap-looking china plate from the pile. One of the cooks, her hair messily poking out of a white cap, lifted her ladle and spooned a large pile of gloopy brown stuff on to the plate.

“Sorry, what is it, please?” I asked.

“Stew,” she replied, flatly.

“What kind of stew, Miss?”

The cook just stared at me and then turned to serve Ariadne.

As I headed into the middle of the room, I stopped and froze, realising I didn’t have a clue where I was supposed to sit. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I swore Miss Fox pointed with a barely noticeable flick of the cane. Empty seats.

Ariadne followed me to the table and we sat down. She poked her food around the plate with a fork, apparently trying to make sure it was dead.

“Welcome back, Scarlet!”

I looked up. I was being addressed by a woman with greying hair and big grey eyes to match.

“Um, thank you, Miss,” I responded. I scooped up some of the stew with my fork. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, but ow, it was hot. I swallowed it quickly.

“Decided we like the stew now, have we?” said the teacher sitting opposite us.

I stared down at my plate. “Oh. I guess it’s not that bad … really?”

She smiled archly. “Indeed. Well, I always like to see a healthy appetite.”

Ariadne came to my rescue. “What’s your name, Miss?” she asked.

“Ah, you must be the new student! I’m Mrs Knight. I’m the head of Richmond House.”

“I’m Ariadne, Miss. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand. It still had a fork in it.

Mrs Knight ignored it, but I heard giggles rippling away from us along the table. I felt my cheeks turn red.

It wasn’t long before they faded, but I noticed that one person laughed for a little longer than anyone else. I peered down the length of the table, and wasn’t surprised to see Penny looking back. She gave me a fake smile, and waved her fork in my direction. Then she pretended to stab herself with it, and started making gagging noises. Her friends were in fits.

I flushed even harder. Scarlet would’ve done something. Perhaps she would have tipped the stew down the front of Penny’s black dress. The threat of Miss Fox’s cane would mean nothing to her.

But I wasn’t Scarlet. I was still Ivy. I finished my dinner in silence.

It was lights out. I lay in my nightgown, feeling strange in my new surroundings. I waited in vain for Ariadne to go to sleep. She had been whispering excitedly for the past half an hour, while I occasionally replied with ‘mmmhmm’ as loudly as I dared.

Once she dozed off I would be able to take out the diary. The light of the full moon through the thin curtains ought to be enough for me to read by.

“Isn’t this exciting?!” Ariadne somehow managed to pronounce extra punctuation marks even when whispering.

“Shouldn’t we go to sleep now?”

“But it’s like a sleepover, isn’t it? We can stay up all night and have a midnight feast!”

“We don’t have any food, Ariadne.”

“Oh, right.”

I watched as she picked up a teddy from the floor. It was fluffy and bright-eyed, clearly brand new.

“I suppose I shall try and go to sleep then,” she sighed, placing the teddy next to her head on the pillow and patting it gently. “I’m sure it will be absolutely impossible. Goodnight, Scarlet.”

“G’night,” I mumbled.

She flopped down with her eyes wide open. “Impossible!” she whispered.

Exactly two minutes later, she was snoring contentedly.

Finally! I pulled the lumpy pillow from under my head. With a quick shake, the diary fell out into my lap and I turned my back to Ariadne.

I hoped the diary might hold answers, but when I opened it again I realised that it was empty aside from the letter to me. There were only torn edges of pages that had been ripped out. Where had a year of Scarlet’s life gone?

I looked at the words on that remaining page again, read them over and over, the ink swimming in front of my eyes. I shook my head. Don’t be as wet as you usually are, Ivy.

I would have fallen asleep clutching the little leather book in my arms, but I couldn’t risk it. So I hid it away, and held on to the memory of my sister instead.

The following day was a Saturday; a blessing that saved me from lessons and wearing Scarlet’s uniform. Ariadne and I returned to the dining hall and ate cold porridge for breakfast. It was lumpy and required far more chewing than it ought to have done.

“What shall we do today?” Ariadne asked.

I blinked up at her. What was there to do at this school?

Luckily, she didn’t wait for me to respond. “I’d like to visit the library,” she said. “I’ve heard they have a wonderful collection.”

So, after a sneaky look at my map in the lavatory cubicle, we took a trip to the school library. It was an impressive sight – rows and rows of enormous shelves, stretching up to a high vaulted ceiling. There were ladders on wheels for reaching the upper levels, and some girls were laughing as they pushed each other along the racks. In the centre lay numerous tables, packed with students being studious, or at least doing a good job of pretending.

And books. There had to be hundreds, no, thousands of them. So many stories, unread. So much to learn.

Of course, I had to pretend I was completely unimpressed. Scarlet would have seen the library many times before, and she wasn’t particularly interested in books.

“I’ll just get … a couple out,” I said to Ariadne, trying to sound bored.

“A couple? I’m going to get the maximum!” she exclaimed.

And that was how we returned to our room, me carrying a meagre two books and Ariadne tottering under an enormous pile of them. If the girls hadn’t been laughing at her yesterday, they certainly were now.

On Sunday we had to go the school chapel for a service. The sermon echoed off the walls, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I saw Scarlet everywhere, in the brass of the candles, in the stained-glass windows and in the tarnished gold collection plates. I felt like somehow she was watching me.

It started to drizzle as we filed out under the glare of Miss Fox. I tried to hurry back through the jostling crowds with Ariadne trailing behind me. But then I checked myself. You’re trying to be Scarlet – don’t be so wet.

Father had always said that she walked around like she owned the place, like there was a pole down the back of her dress. So that was what I had to do.

And it worked! The stream of girls began to move out of my way as I climbed the steps of the school. I turned back to Ariadne and smiled at her. She stopped and waved back, almost getting trampled in the process.

That was a bit more like it, wasn’t it, Scarlet?

That night, accompanied by Ariadne’s gentle snoring, I took out the diary, just to hold it. But I soon found myself reading the words again.

Scarlet’s last line, that oft-heard insult – ‘don’t be as wet as you usually are – just look in the mirror’ – had been playing on my mind. It seemed out of place somehow. And why would Scarlet underline it? Unless …

What if it’s one of Scarlet’s secret messages that used to drive me mad? What if she’s telling me to look for something? She said she’d try to leave me with some advice – did that mean this was a clue?

I looked at the underlined words again – first, something wet. A lake? A river? That seemed unlikely. And second, somewhere with mirrors …

The bathrooms.

It jumped into my head as if Scarlet had whispered it right in my ear.

It was lights out, and everyone was in bed. There was a good chance that Miss Fox would be patrolling the corridors, looking for rule-breakers. Then again, surely needing the lavatory was a valid excuse to be up in the night. I sat up in bed and looked down at my shoes. Too noisy; I’d have to go barefoot.

I tiptoed to the door – my ballet training was certainly useful for something. I had to tug on the handle hard and it made a squeaking noise as it opened that was like a scream in my head. I winced as I stuck my head out and surveyed the corridor. Empty. The nearby door marked ‘Matron’ was shut tight.

I hurried towards the bathrooms. Every time I passed a door, I half expected Miss Fox to leap out from behind it. Suddenly there was a bang from the other end of the corridor, and I almost jumped out of my nightgown. It was only a window, left hanging open in the breeze.

There was a dim light in the lavatories, but through the door marked ‘Bathrooms’ it was a different story. I could just make out a small row of doors along the dark corridor, each with a number on it.

My heart beat faster as I tried the handle of the first door.

Inside was an enormous cast-iron bath, rusting at the edges, a flat-framed mirror and a faint smell of mildew.

I pictured Scarlet walking into the room, walking right through me. I pictured her when we were five, climbing into the bath and splashing me with soapy water. Then I pictured her sneaking in here to hide something in the last days of her life.

“What am I even looking for, Scarlet?” I whispered. There was a lump rising in my throat.

I walked to the mirror, ran my fingers over the cold glass. My reflection stared back at me, and I had to look away. I tugged on the mirror, wondering if there was anything behind it, but it was screwed tightly to the wall.

I looked around the chilly room. The pages obviously couldn’t be in the bath. They certainly weren’t next to it. That left only one place – underneath.

I crouched down and felt along the rough iron surface …

Nothing. My heart sank faster than the Titanic.

But then – I could almost hear Scarlet’s laughter ringing out in my head – there were four more bathrooms to choose from, weren’t there?

Two and three were as empty as number one. I shivered in my nightgown.

As I walked into number four, I thought I heard a muffled noise, somewhere nearby. I stood stock-still and listened, but there was no sound apart from the dripping of a tap. It must have been a mouse. These old buildings were full of them.

That gave me a thought. Where do mice live? Holes. Holes in the skirting, holes in the floorboards. Hiding places.

I crouched down and I crawled around to where the pipes descended through the floorboards. There was a jagged gap surrounding the lead pipes, just large enough to fit my fingers through.

I touched something. Paper.

“Oh my goodness!” I whispered, drawing it out. My hands were shaking. The pages were crumpled and covered with dust, but Scarlet’s flowing handwriting was clearly visible on them.

It was then that I heard the noise again, even closer than before. I had to get back to my room as soon as possible. I walked out of the bathroom and pulled the door to behind me, as quietly as I could. And then I turned to go back into the lavatories.

Only someone was in my way.

“Hello, Scarlet,” Penny said, grinning and showing her pointy teeth. “What do you think you’re doing in here at this hour?”

I was right about there being a mouse. I was the mouse.

And Penny was the cat about to eat me alive.