Читать книгу The Dance in the Dark - Sophie Cleverly, Sophie Cleverly - Страница 12

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.