Читать книгу The Dance in the Dark - Sophie Cleverly, Sophie Cleverly - Страница 9

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.