The Whispers in the Walls. Sophie Cleverly

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      “Ahem …”

      I looked round. It was Mrs Knight, the head of Richmond house, standing on the other side of the hall. “Kindly leave the wall alone, Miss Grey. And perhaps save all of our ears by keeping your voice down?”

      “Sorry, Miss,” I said. Scarlet just frowned.

      “We’ve been expecting you, girls – Mr Bartholomew has been making arrangements. I’m to take you to his office now.” She gave me a smile, but it was an uncertain one. “Miss Carver will arrange for someone to take your suitcases to your room.” She indicated the secretary, who was regarding Scarlet warily.

      I shot my twin a look to see if she’d caught that – were we sharing a room? She raised her eyebrows at me.

      “This way,” said Mrs Knight, as we deposited our suitcases by the front desk. It was Sunday morning, so the classrooms she led us past were empty, silent as if they were sleeping. In a low voice, she added, “I hope you can put your ordeal behind you, Scarlet, and have a fresh start. We were all so horrified to learn what Miss Fox had done.” Scarlet made a face, but she didn’t reply.

      My heart pounded as we neared Miss Fox’s office, and I saw to my surprise that its door was wide open. There were men inside in suits, looking through her files. The hideous stuffed dogs remained, glassy-eyed and grotesque.

      Thank goodness Miss Fox was gone. I hoped Father was right, and that Mr Bartholomew would make everything better for us.

      Before I had time to think more about it, we’d come to another heavy wooden door with ‘HEADMASTER’ in stern capitals on the nameplate.

      Mrs Knight knocked gingerly. Her knock was answered with coughing, and a rasping “come in”. She waved us inside, and I hoped she’d follow, but instead she just quickly pulled the door closed behind us.

      This office was big. Twice the size of Miss Fox’s. A huge stone fireplace in one corner sheltered a roaring fire, and dark furniture loomed in front of wood-panelled walls. There were no windows.

      An oak desk took up almost all of the floor space, and behind it was a tall leather-backed chair with a man sitting in it, silver-haired and hunched over. A quivering hand pulled a pocket watch on a chain out of his jacket. “You’re late,” he said, and his voice rattled like bones.

      Scarlet and I looked at each other in horror.

      He gestured for us to sit down on two chairs in front of the desk, and we did so immediately.

      He spoke slowly without really looking at us, like he was considering each word. I watched his eyes, sunken and hollow. “Girls, welcome back to Rookwood. I understand there have been … troubling times. But I can assure you that these are now over.”

      Then he was silent. I wondered if I should say something. “Thank you, sir?” I whispered.

      Almost to himself, he continued, “I always questioned whether I was right to leave a woman in charge of my school. Now I know the answer to that.”

      I gripped Scarlet’s hand under the desk, just in case she was going to start shouting at him. But she remained tight-lipped.

      “You must understand, the school is the thing. Teachers and pupils come and go, but the school remains. That is what matters.”

      We both nodded. Where was he going with this?

      “Rookwood needs its reputation intact in order to survive. We are nothing but the image we project to the world.”

      Evidently Scarlet had had enough of biting her tongue. “Is there a point to all this, sir?”

      Mr Bartholomew unfurled in his chair. I realised as he drew himself up that he was a very large man indeed. His eyes narrowed at my twin. “I don’t remember asking you a question, Miss Grey.”

      I shrank back, but Scarlet was undeterred. “You didn’t, sir.”

      “THEN WHY ARE YOU TALKING?” he roared.

      Scarlet blinked. I felt like my heart had stopped in my chest.

      And then the headmaster folded back again, coughing.

      When he finally spoke, his voice had returned to its previous volume. “Rookwood prides itself on our education system, our high standards of teaching and the safety of our pupils. You will not do anything to compromise this. But –” another cough – “I assure you that what happened will not be repeated. Not on my watch.”

      We sat there, not wanting to say a word.

      “That is all. You may go.”

      “What was that all about?” I asked Scarlet, when I’d overcome the shock.

      “Search me.”

      We walked towards the stairs, and I had that strange feeling once again, doubting that my twin was really beside me. I’d never walked these halls with her before. “Do you think we can trust him?” I asked, as we climbed the staircase.

      Scarlet laughed sarcastically. “Trust him? He looks like a vampire!”

      I risked a smile. “At least he’s not Miss Fox. And he obviously doesn’t like her. Perhaps he’ll come clean to the school, tell everyone what’s really been going on.”

      “He might. I mean, people are surely going to notice that there’s two of me all of a sudden.”

      We’d just reached the top of the stairs when someone came barrelling into me and knocked me backwards on to the carpet.

      “IvyohmygoshIvyyou’reback!”

      I looked up, stunned, and saw a familiar grinning face.

      “Ariadne!” I cried.

      “Hello!” my friend scrambled up, pushing her halo of mousy hair out of her eyes. “I’m just so pleased to see you! And –” she turned and took in the sight of my twin, who looked frankly baffled – “Scarlet! Scarlet’s here! You found her, you really did it!”

      Ariadne started bouncing up and down to the point where I felt mildly seasick. But nevertheless, I was truly, truly pleased to see her again. I grinned and clambered up from the scratchy floor. “Yes, I did it. Well, we did it.”

      “Who is this?” said Scarlet in a mock-whisper.

      “Oh, um …” I held out my hands to both of them. “Scarlet, this is Ariadne. She helped me find you.”

      My sister frowned, but Ariadne didn’t seem to notice. “Nice to meet you!” she said brightly. “Ariadne,” she repeated, “like in Theseus and the Minotaur.”

      “Who and the what?” said my twin rudely

      “Scarlet,” I said meaningfully, “we need to get to our room and …” I looked at Ariadne, and a horrible realisation dawned. There were only two beds in our dorm.

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