Scarlet and Ivy – The Lost Twin. Sophie Cleverly

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СКАЧАТЬ that, child,” Miss Fox hissed. “And sit properly!”

      I looked up from my lap, but she had already turned away.

      Scarlet would have answered back. Scarlet would have drummed her feet on the seats. Scarlet would have ripped out every bit of that stupid stitching.

      I did as I was told.

      Soon the road widened, and more houses slid into view. I saw a dark-haired man digging his garden, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. His beard and strong features reminded me of Father, and I felt a sudden pang of guilt – I hadn’t even spoken to him for months. He was working in London, I supposed. The economy was still reeling from the Crash and it had left him working all the hours he could.

      It wasn’t as if I was close to our father. When we were younger, he had been a fiery man, always shouting. But soon after our stepmother came along, he became different. Scarlet was relieved; she was grateful for the peace, didn’t miss the fire. She could never understand why I would prefer the man who shouted at us to the man who spent long hours withdrawn, blank-faced.

      With three boys to spoil, our stepmother swiftly decided it was too much for her to keep looking after us as well. That was when she suggested that he ship us off to boarding school.

      If only he hadn’t sent us away. If only we’d stayed together.

       If only …

      The car slid through a pair of enormous gates. Beside them were pillars topped with stone rooks in flight, their wings spread wide and claws grasping at the air.

      A long drive snaked its way up to the school, through a cloak of trees and past what looked like a lake shimmering in the distance. We came to a halt and I heard the driver’s feet hit the gravel as he climbed out.

      “Watch your step, miss,” he said, pulling open the door.

      I smiled up at him as best I could as I clambered out with my bag.

      Rookwood School loomed over me, huge and imposing. The bright green trees that lined the drive looked lost in the gloom of the building. The walls were stone – the highest parts blackened by years of chimney smoke. Dark pillars stretched towards the sky in front of me, and crenellations framed the vast slate roof.

      It looked like a castle. Or a prison.

      It took all my strength not to turn and run back down the length of the drive. Of course, even if I had, I would surely have been caught and punished.

      Rooks flew past overhead, their loud caws mixing with the distant shrieks of girls playing hockey.

      “Don’t just stand there gaping, girl.” Miss Fox was looking at me like I was an unexpected slug on the sole of her shoe. “Follow me, unless you think you have something better to do.”

      “Yes, Miss … no, Miss.”

      She turned around, muttering something that I couldn’t hear.

      I followed her up the front steps, her sharp shoes clacking and pockets jangling. The front doors were huge, and despite being ancient they swung open without even the smallest creak when she pushed through them. Inside there was a double-height room with a gallery running all the way around. It smelt strongly of floor polish.

      In the middle sat an oak desk and a somewhat lost-looking secretary. She was shuffling papers in what I thought was an attempt to look busier than she actually was.

      Miss Fox approached the desk and leant on it with both hands.

      “Good afternoon, madam,” the secretary said quietly, as Miss Fox’s shadow fell across her.

      “Some would say so,” replied Miss Fox, glowering. “I have a child here. Scarlet Grey.” I started to correct her, but she waved an uncaring hand in my face and carried on speaking. “She will begin attending classes tomorrow. Sign her in on the register, please.”

      Miss Fox must have been the only person who could pronounce the word ‘please’ like it actually meant ‘RIGHT NOW’.

      “D-do you want me to escort her to her room, madam?” asked the secretary.

      Miss Fox blinked. “No, I am going to take her to my office to … fill her in. Get her signed up.”

      She strode away towards the corridor and I hurried after her. I risked a backward glance at the secretary, who stared at me with wide eyes.

      We went past rows of doors, each with a little window revealing the class studying inside. The girls were sat in rows, silent and serious. I was used to a quiet school, but in here there was an air of … wrongness. Like it was too quiet, somehow.

      The only sounds were our footsteps and the ever-present jangling from Miss Fox’s pockets. When we reached her office, she pulled out a silver key from one of them and unlocked the door.

      The room was dimly lit and smelt of old books. There was a single desk with a couple of high-backed chairs and some tall shelves. That was pretty normal, but that wasn’t all there was.

      The walls were covered in dogs.

      Big dogs, small dogs, strange foreign dogs – their blank sepia faces stared down from faded photographs, each in a brown frame. In one corner of the room there was a stuffed beagle in a glass case, its droopy ears and patchy fur serving to make it look even more depressed than beagles do when they’re alive.

      The most bizarre sight was a dachshund, stretched out in front of the small window at the back of the office. It appeared to be being used as a draught excluder.

      Strange, I thought, that someone with a name like Fox would like dogs so much.

      “Stuffed dogs, Miss?” I wondered aloud.

      “Can’t stand the things. I like to see them dead,” replied Miss Fox.

      She pointed a long finger at a nearby chair until I got the hint and sat down on it.

      “Now, Scarlet—”

      “Ivy,” I corrected automatically.

      She loomed over me like an angry black cloud. “I think you have misunderstood, Miss Grey. Did you not read my letter?”

      Her letter? “I-I thought it was from the headmaster.”

      She shook her head. “Mr Bartholomew has taken a leave of absence, and I am in charge while he’s away. Now, answer the question. Did you read it?”

      “Yes. It said I was to take a place at the school … my sister’s place.”

      Miss Fox walked around me and sat down in the leather chair that accompanied her desk. “Precisely. You will replace her.”

      Something in the way she said it made me pause. “What do you mean, replace her, Miss?”

      “I mean what I say,” she said. “You will replace her. You will become her.”

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