The Curse in the Candlelight

by Sophie Cleverly

  She gave another incredible knock on the door to Mrs Knight’s office.

  “Enter!” Mrs Knight’s voice called from within.

  Miss Bowler held open the door and I saw … Mrs Knight, sitting at her desk.

  And sitting opposite her, our stepmother.

  I couldn’t help my sharp intake of breath. I felt Scarlet stiffen beside me. Oh no.

  “Stop dilly-dallying,” Miss Bowler said, prodding us both in the back until we were forced to go inside.

  We stood there, adrift on the sea of blue carpet that Mrs Knight must have had fitted. Her cheery posters bobbed on the walls above us like life rings, just out of reach.

  I tried not to look at our stepmother. I didn’t want to see the expression on her face. I could hear her quietly seething.

  “Girls,” said Mrs Knight, taking her glasses off. “I’m sure you can appreciate that this is very serious. I told you that we needed everyone on their best behaviour, and then Miss Bowler finds you playing cards and burning candles in the library in the middle of the night! Would you care to explain yourselves?”

  “Well, actually …” Scarlet started, but her sentence trailed away from her. What could we possibly say? In fact, Miss, we were trying to put a curse on you because a witch told us to, except it was actually all a trick to get us into trouble? It sounded like madness.

  “We’re very sorry,” was all I could manage.

  Mrs Knight shook her head in disappointment. “That’s not good enough, girls. I’ve had to bring your stepmother in to talk about your behaviour, to show you how serious this is. Now, I want to make it very clear that this is your final warning.”

  I gulped. The room seemed to spin around me.

  “I have been lenient before,” the headmistress continued, “but no more!” She stood up and waved a finger at us. “This is it, do you understand? If it continues, I will be forced to expel you.”

  I stared down at my feet. Scarlet was shuffling hers. We were both speechless.

  “Do you understand?” Mrs Knight said again.

  “Yes, Miss,” we replied.

  “Now,” she walked out from behind her desk and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to leave you to have a little talk with your stepmother. I want you both to think very hard about how you will behave from now on.” She patted me gently and then left the room.

  Left us alone with Edith.

  Our stepmother pushed her chair back and stood up.

  “Well,” she sneered. “Isn’t this nice?”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  SCARLET

  couldn’t believe our stepmother was actually here, at Rookwood. It made me feel sick. I wanted to lash out at her, to scream and run away. But I was so shocked that I just stood there next to Ivy and said nothing.

  Edith put her hands on her hips. Her nostrils flared, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Have you got something to say to me?”

  How about, ‘Leave us alone forever, you nasty old cow’? I thought the words, but I just felt tongue-tied.

  “You two are despicable,” she spat. “Worthless. Less than nothing. Why are we paying for you to go to this school when all you do is disrespect us?”

  “We didn’t—” Ivy started, but Edith held a hand in the air to stop her, clearly not interested in anything we had to say.

  “This is how it is going to be,” she said. “You’re going to be on your absolute best behaviour for the rest of the year. If you so much as put a toenail out of line, I will hear about it; do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I muttered. I felt uncomfortably like I was being lectured by a shorter, dumpier version of Miss Fox.

  “Hold your tongue! I don’t want a word from either of you brats!”

  “You never wanted anything from us,” I said, finally finding my voice. “You never wanted us at all.” Ivy squeezed my hand.

  Edith turned to me, her eyes fiery. “You’re right, Scarlet.” She said my name like a curse word. “I don’t want either of you cluttering up my home. And that is why YOU WILL STAY AT THIS SCHOOL.”

  I bit my lip. There were angry tears prickling at the corner of my eyes.

  “And if you get expelled,” she said, leaning far too close to our faces, “then you can always be sent somewhere else.”

  With that, she marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

  My legs gave out from underneath me and I sank on to the sea-blue carpet.

  “Somewhere else?” Ivy whispered in shock from above me.

  “She means the asylum,” I said eventually. Echoes of night-time sobs and bars on windows flowed through my mind. The one place I would rather die than set foot in again. “She’d put us in the asylum.”

  The week that followed was dreadful – quite literally filled with dread. It hung over us like a cloud, and just the threat looming on the horizon made us quiet and scared.

  There was no more spying on Ebony. She had put an end to us doing that with her prank. If I had been myself, she wouldn’t have got off lightly. I was dying to scream at her, to wipe the smug, knowing smile from her face.

  But maybe we were to blame too, as much as I didn’t want to admit it. We’d been spying on her, pretending to want to get involved in her witchcraft.

  Ivy and I spent what felt like days sitting in mostly silence, afraid to cause the slightest bit of trouble. I had no doubt at all that Mrs Knight was serious about expelling us if we did anything else wrong, and even less doubt that our stepmother would be true to her word and make our lives worse than hell.

  On Saturday afternoon, I decided I was sick of being so miserable.

  “We have to go and talk to Ariadne,” I said, jumping to my feet from my bed.

  Ivy looked at me over the book she was reading. It was the first thing I’d said in hours.

  “I’ve had enough of this!” I insisted. “I’m fed up of walking on eggshells. If we’re going to spend our lives being terrified of getting thrown out of school, I at least want to do it with a friend.”

  Ivy put the book down. “That’s a good point,” she said, her voice a little quiet with disuse. “But what about Muriel?”

  I couldn’t help but sigh. Muriel was the problem. I hated her. I liked her. I didn’t know how I felt. Even though I was sure she was involved with Ebony somehow, I had no idea how and no way to prove it. And now you couldn’t get to Ariadne without going past Muriel. She was always there.

  “If we just confronted her …” I started.

  “No!” Ivy said. “I’m not doing it. If she’s innocent, Ariadne will never forgive us.”

  “Ugh.” I kicked my bed in frustration. “We can’t win.”

  Ivy sat in thought for a moment, but then she said, “I think you’re right that we should talk to Ariadne, though. What if we wait until Muriel leaves their room?”

  I nodded. “That could work.”

  So we took it in turns to wander along the corridor, past their room, pretending to be perfectly innocent.

  As I was taking my fifth wander towards the lavatories, I saw Muriel step out and head off down the stairs.

  Going to meet Ebony and turn people into toads I bet, I thought.

  This was our chance. I ran and grabbed Ivy and together we knocked on Ariadne’s door.

  “Oh, hello,” she said when she opened it. I might have been imagining things, but I thought she looked a little pleased. Perhaps she guessed why we were there.

  Ivy nudged me and I realised I wasn’t saying anything.

  “We’re here to apologise,” I said. “Again,” I added.

  Ariadne had the ghost of a smile. “Come in,” she said.

  I had a brief glance around their room. It looked like a whirlwind had hit it. Ariadne and Muriel’s bedsheets were in piles that Matron was sure to throw a fit about, their clothes tossed on the floor, school work spread out haphazardly all over the desk. One of Ariadne’s jars of midnight-feast sweets was spilling on to the floor below her bed, and there was a chocol
ate-bar wrapper on the windowsill.

  I wanted to mention it as I awkwardly found a place to stand that wasn’t covered in discarded school uniform. The words threatened to jump from my throat, but I pushed them back down. This was not the time to start criticising Ariadne’s unusual untidiness. But I did make a mental note of how strange it was.

  “Ariadne, we …” Ivy started.

  “Before you say anything,” Ariadne said suddenly. “I’m sorry.”

  Ivy and I looked at each other in surprise. I was thrown from the script.

  “You’re sorry?” I asked.

  She nodded meekly. “I shouldn’t have been so cross with you. It was awful of me. I was just … not feeling myself. I felt left out and upset and I was terribly rude!” She took a deep breath. “I really am sorry!”

  “This was supposed to be our apology,” I said.

  “I know, I know.” Ariadne went red and stared at her feet. “You can go next, if you like!”

  That was when I started to laugh. “We missed you so much, Ariadne!”

  She grinned sheepishly.

  “We’ve got ourselves in a total mess,” Ivy said.

  “You won’t believe it!” I put my head in my hands. “You were right to tell us to be careful of Ebony. She tricked us into doing this ‘spell’ with her at night in the library, and the next thing we knew, Miss Bowler was marching in and carting us off to Mrs Knight’s office. We’re in deep trouble.”

  Ariadne gasped and grabbed my arm. “No! I’d heard rumours, but I also heard that you’d been expelled for stealing Miss Bowler’s knickers, so—”

  Now Ivy laughed as well. I nearly spat out my tongue. “What?”

  Ariadne shrugged. “I have no idea. You’re not going to be expelled, are you? That wouldn’t be any fun.”

  The thought flashed into my mind that the only reason Ariadne had been expelled last year was, in a strange way, because of Muriel. After all, the fact that Ariadne had burned down the shed that Muriel’s bully-gang had hung around in was the reason why she’d come under suspicion for the fire at Rookwood.

  Had Muriel really changed that much? Or was she still that same rotten apple underneath?

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Ivy insisted, snapping me back to reality. “We just need to stay out of trouble.”

  “Me too,” Ariadne sighed. “Mrs Knight gave me a warning as well. She said I’ve been getting too many detentions.”

  I gave Ivy a fleeting glance. But I don’t think either of us wanted to say anything. I derailed the subject a little. “Our stepmother turned up at school and threatened us. We’re as good as forgotten if we get kicked out of Rookwood.”

  “I can’t believe all this has happened,” Ariadne said, sitting down on a bare corner of her mattress that the sheet had peeled away from. She twiddled her fingers. “I hope we can all be friends again.” Now she grinned up at us. “Us and Muriel, all together!”

  I didn’t say a word. Because I had just noticed a playing card sticking out from under Muriel’s pile of books.

  It was a Joker.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  IVY

  n the time that followed, it felt as though things were almost back to normal. Ariadne was our friend again. We went to lessons. We did all our work on time.

  But it felt as if there was this great spectre breathing down our necks. I felt it every time I saw Muriel smile. Every time I saw Ebony, her cat curled round her neck, doing her card tricks for her followers. Every time we walked past Mrs Knight, and I remembered that morning in her office.

  One Monday, though, I saw Mrs Knight and Miss Pepper as I was on my way to take a letter from one teacher to another, as we were often sent to do. I froze for a moment, wondering if I was doing anything that I could get into trouble for. When I was certain that everything was all right, I moved on again.

  And that was when I saw the poster.

  Mrs Knight was pinning it to the noticeboard and it read:

  It was decorated with a border of tiny bats and owls. My curiosity got the better of me. “Miss?” I asked her.

  She turned and saw me standing beside her. “Oh, hello, Ivy,” she said.

  I smiled. People didn’t often get it right on the first try when I wasn’t standing beside my twin. I pointed at the poster. “We’re having a party?”

  Mrs Knight nodded. “It was all Ebony McCloud’s idea. We’ve never celebrated All Hallows’ Eve here at Rookwood before, and of course I’m trying to keep up our school spirit. I thought it seemed like a jolly good plan.”

  “That sounds nice,” I said weakly. A sliver of ice had formed in my heart at the mention of Ebony’s name, but I was trying my hardest to ignore it. Perhaps a party would be fun. Perhaps it was just what we needed.

  Scarlet and I had never really joined in with any All Hallows’ Eve celebrations before. When we’d lived at home, the end of October had been a time for cowering inside the house, with the rain and wind battering at the windows, hoping that any witches or spirits that were abroad would stay that way.

  Miss Pepper was holding another sheaf of posters. I supposed she must have drawn them up. “Mr McCloud has been very supportive,” she said.

  That pricked up my ears. “Is he Ebony’s father?” I asked.

  “Oh yes,” said Mrs Knight. “A most interesting man. And very generous too,” she added, though I wasn’t sure whether she was addressing me or Miss Pepper. Anyway, hurry along now, Ivy.”

  “Yes, Miss.” I did as I was told, and quickly. But as I was scurrying through the corridors, I thought of what she’d said.

  Very generous. That was interesting.

  Was Mr McCloud giving money to the school? And what could that mean?

  At lunchtime, I told Scarlet and Ariadne about the poster and what I’d overheard about Ebony’s father (which unfortunately meant telling Muriel as well).

  “A party!” Ariadne gave an excited gasp and nearly dropped her sandwich. “Whatever am I going to wear?”

  “We need to make costumes,” Scarlet said. I could already see the ideas forming in her eyes.

  “I think I have something,” Muriel added eagerly.

  I looked at them all in disbelief. “The party wasn’t the point!”

  All three of them went quiet and stared at me.

  I took a deep breath. “Did you hear what I said? Mrs Knight described Mr McCloud as interesting and generous. If he’s been donating extra money to the school, then …”

  Realisation dawned in Ariadne’s eyes. “That could explain why the teachers are so lenient with Ebony!”

  “Hmm.” Muriel frowned. “Are you sure? She might not have even been talking about money. Perhaps he’s just generous as in nice. Anyway, Ebony’s proved she has dark powers – that’s what all the teachers are afraid of.” I watched her carefully as she said this. Muriel always seemed to lean away from any discussion of the fact that Ebony’s mischief might not be magic. Was she really a true believer, or did she just want us to believe it?

  I still thought Mrs Knight’s comments might be important. “Don’t we need to investigate further? What if Ebony’s father is mixed up in this as well somehow?”

  Scarlet leant forward. “Maybe he’s a witch too.”

  Ariadne’s face wrinkled in thought. “Wouldn’t he be a wizard?”

  I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

  “It seems unlikely that he would be involved,” said Muriel, her lips twisting. “He’s not even here.”

  “But it doesn’t mean he can’t have an influence,” Scarlet said. “I think we need to go to that party. And we need to talk to him.”

  It wasn’t long before the end of October. The nights were drawing in, slowly clawing away at the daylight hours. The leaves were a cacophony of reds and oranges and yellows. The school grounds were littered with conkers and pine cones, and everything crunched underfoot.

  Scarlet couldn’t stop talking about the party and kept insisting we needed to make
something for the fancy dress. This was somewhat difficult, as we didn’t own very many clothes. The only costumes that we’d ever owned had been the ones Aunt Sara made us for the ballet the year before, and we’d had to give those to Miss Finch for safekeeping.

  But then in art, Miss Pepper announced that we would be making spooky masks from papier-mâché.

  “We should match,” Scarlet said excitedly.

  “But what are we going to make?” I asked, staring down at the pile of paper on our desks. I wasn’t sure what you were supposed to have as a mask. “What’s spooky?”

  Scarlet looked around the classroom and her eyes fell on Ebony, who was at the back, carrying two tins of black paint. “A black cat,” Scarlet said.

  So we both made black cat masks, with pointy ears and white whiskers, and almond-shaped holes for the eyes. We had black leotards, skirts and tights for ballet, and I thought that would do for the rest of the outfit. I could stuff some old stockings with paper to make the tail.

  Ariadne came bobbing over at the end of the lesson. “Look what I made!” She held up her mask and attempted a roar. It was a lion, with orange wool hair.

  I grinned back at her. “Perfect!”

  I was so pleased that we’d made up with Ariadne, but things were far from back to normal. She was still getting detentions. In music, she sang all the words wrong and was sent out. Her sewing had to be unpicked; she spilt her paints in art; her numbers didn’t add up in arithmetic. She seemed in a daze half the time.

  And every time I saw Ebony, I wondered … Was she still casting spells? Still putting curses on people? I swore I saw a smile twitch on her face whenever Ariadne or Muriel got into trouble, as if things were all going to plan. I considered whether we ought to follow her again, or try to sabotage her somehow – but then I would remember our stepmother in the headmistress’s office, and I would go straight back to keeping my head down. I couldn’t risk any trouble, knowing she would make us pay for it.

  There was the matter of the party as well. Scarlet was so excited, and I was a little too, but there was something more pressing on my mind. All Hallows’ Eve was supposed to be a time for witches. When they flew out on broomsticks and cackled in the night air. When they stole away children who misbehaved. When they were most powerful.