Copyright
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
HarperCollins Publishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Text copyright © Sophie Cleverly 2017
Illustrations copyright © Manuel Šumberac 2017
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration © Manuel Šumberac
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Sophie Cleverly asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008218331
Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780008218294
Version: 2017-02-20
Praise for
“This is one of the best books I have ever read. It was exciting, funny, warm and mysterious.” Lily, aged 9
“The whole book was brilliant … after the first paragraph it was as though Ivy was my best friend.” Ciara, aged 10
“This book is full of excitement and adventure – a masterpiece!” Jennifer, aged 9
“This is a page-turning mystery adventure with puzzles that keep you guessing.” Felicity, aged 11
“A brilliant and exciting book.” Evie, aged 8
“The story shone with excitement, secrets and bonds of friendship … If I had to mark this book out of 10, I would give it 11!” Sidney, aged 11
For Lizzie – thank you for believing in Scarlet and Ivy
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Praise
Dedication
Chapter One: Ivy
Chapter Two: Scarlet
Chapter Three: Ivy
Chapter Four: Scarlet
Chapter Five: Ivy
Chapter Six: Scarlet
Chapter Seven: Ivy
Chapter Eight: Scarlet
Chapter Nine: Ivy
Chapter Ten: Scarlet
Chapter Eleven: Ivy
Chapter Twelve: Scarlet
Chapter Thirteen: Ivy
Chapter Fourteen: Scarlet
Chapter Fifteen: Ivy
Chapter Sixteen: Scarlet
Chapter Seventeen: Ivy
Chapter Eighteen: Scarlet
Chapter Nineteen: Ivy
Chapter Twenty: Scarlet
Chapter Twenty-one: Ivy
Chapter Twenty-two: Scarlet
Chapter Twenty-three: Ivy
Chapter Twenty-four: Scarlet
Chapter Twenty-five: Ivy
Chapter Twenty-six: Scarlet
Chapter Twenty-seven: Ivy
Chapter Twenty-eight: Scarlet
Chapter Twenty-nine: Ivy
Chapter Thirty: Scarlet
Chapter Thirty-one: Ivy
Chapter Thirty-two: Scarlet
Chapter Thirty-three: Ivy
Chapter Thirty-four: Scarlet
Chapter Thirty-five: Ivy
Acknowledgements
Keep Reading …
About the Author
Books by Sophie Cleverly
About the Publisher
Chapter One
IVY
carlet and I were a team that couldn’t be broken. She was my twin; my reflection in the mirror; the other side of the same coin. As long as we were together, there was nothing we couldn’t face. That was what we’d promised each other. We could do anything.
But this wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind.
“Hold still!” yelled Ariadne. “Just one more minute!”
I looked at Scarlet in horror. By my estimation, we had less than a minute before Miss Bowler arrived and we were all in hideous trouble, and about ten seconds before I lost my balance and plunged straight into the water.
Scarlet was staring back at me, the expression frozen on her face. “I hate you, Ariadne,” she said, twisting her mouth without moving her eyes.
Ariadne had received a camera from her father as a present during the Easter holidays, and it was her new obsession. It was small, black and silver, with knobs and dials that clicked and whirred. And right at that moment we were being subjected to it.
“It’s going to look magical!” she shouted from the other side of the pool.
I was wobbling. I tried very hard not to think about the chilly water just inches from my toes, and even harder not to think about what I was wearing.
This was Ariadne’s brilliant idea: Scarlet and I were to dress as water nymphs and pose on the diving boards of Rookwood School’s horrible outdoor pool. She had made us costumes out of old swimsuits and ballet tutus, with streamers of blue and green, and chalked streaks of colour on our faces. She’d scattered flowers in the water around us. I was certain that we looked quite ridiculous.
She wanted us both to do an arabesque, the ballet move where you stand on tiptoe with your arms outstretched and one leg up behind you, in a mirror image of each other. And now she was on the far side of the pool, bobbing up and down with the camera as she tried to get the perfect angle.
“Who agreed to this, again?” I whispered to Scarlet.
The diving boards were cold and slippery, even in the morning sun. Lessons were about to start, and Miss Bowler was not going to be happy if her first swimming session of the day was disrupted by two failed water nymphs tumbling into the deep end.
“Ariadneeee!” Scarlet wailed as her leg started to give.
“There. Got it!” Ariadne exclaimed finally. “You can stop now!”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said, lowering my raised leg gently to the ground and slowly backing off the board. I could feel my muscles twitching. Scarlet just sat down with a thump, making her board thrum with vibrations.
Our best friend wandered over to us. She was clutching her camera and grinning, seemingly oblivious to our close brush with peril. “I think this will be my best photograph yet. Daddy will be so pleased.” She’d been learning how to develop her pictures in the new darkroom and sending them to her father in the post. Apparently he was proudly displaying them on the walls of Flitworth Manor.
“Never make me do that again,” said Scarlet. Ariadne just blinked at her happily.
“GIRLS!” came a sudden booming voice.
“Uh-oh.” The colour drained from our friend’s face.
The huge figure of Miss Bowler came striding past the changing rooms towards us, her whistle swinging back and forth round her neck. “What do you think you’re doing? Is this some sort of art?” She bellowed the word as if it were something terrible and offensive.
“I … um …” Ariadne stammered, holding the camera out in front of herself as if it would protect her.
Miss Bowler glared at us furiously. “You should all be in lessons. My class is about to start and the pool is full of GREENERY!”
“I’ll clear it up, Miss!” Ariadne squeaked. She ran and grabbed a net that was leaning against the wall and began trying to sweep the flowers from the water. The camera bounced on its leather strap as she moved.
/> The swimming instructor turned her glare to my twin. “I expect better from you, Ivy.”
“I’m Scarlet,” said Scarlet.
Miss Bowler went red. “I don’t care who you are! Clean up this mess and get inside! And for goodness’ sake, put your uniforms back on!”
I looked down at myself sheepishly. Ariadne had made a brave effort with her costumes, and she was certainly a good seamstress, but she wasn’t exactly at the level of our Aunt Sara.
I hoped Miss Bowler had finished her shouting, but evidently she hadn’t. “Flitworth, if I see you messing around with that infernal gadget during lesson time again, I will take it off you! Do you understand?”
Ariadne dropped a sopping pile of flowers at her feet. “Yes, Miss! I’ll put it away, Miss!”
Miss Bowler’s face contorted with disgust. “Children,” she muttered with distaste. “I’ve a good mind to make you swim la—” She cut herself off, and looked over her shoulder, some of the tomato red draining from her cheeks. I wondered if she was remembering our new headmistress Mrs Knight’s aversion to punishments, or perhaps old Headmaster Bartholomew and the girl who had once drowned at his hands in the school lake. Either way, she seemed to change her mind. “Just get inside,” she said finally, before stomping away.
I looked back at Ariadne, expecting her to be upset. She loved that camera, and hated being told off. But her worried expression had changed to an excited grin. She waved the camera at us. “I can’t wait to see how this one turns out!”
Rookwood School was trying its best to return to normality. Or at least, what passed for normality at a place where there really was at least one actual skeleton in the cupboard.
Last term, girls had left the school in droves, their parents afraid it was unsafe. And they were right, it turned out – our terrifying headmistress Miss Fox had stopped at nothing in trying to destroy the reputation of Rookwood School, but we’d finally thwarted her.
So Rookwood was a safe place once again, but that didn’t mean everyone had come back. Some had enrolled at other schools for good, their parents horrified by the spate of poisonings and anonymous threats. Violet, former arch-enemy of Scarlet, had been taken away by her guardian, and nobody had heard from her since. Not even Rose, who Violet had rescued from the asylum and brought to Rookwood. Rose had been allowed to stay while efforts were made to find out where she came from.
Things were now as normal as they could be. Lessons, porridge and stew, detentions for Scarlet; all under the now slightly more watchful eye of Mrs Knight. And now, I supposed, under the lens of Ariadne’s camera.
The next day began, as they tended to do, with an assembly.
We were shuffling into the hall when Mrs Knight breezed past us, clutching a piece of paper.
“Looks like an announcement,” said Scarlet, craning her neck to see over the first formers.
“Oooh,” said Ariadne. “I hope it’s a good one. Perhaps they’re going to improve the school dinners.” I was amazed that she had managed to keep up her appetite after being poisoned by the stew last term.
“Maybe they’re cancelling all the lessons. Or firing all the teachers and letting us run the school,” my twin suggested, her face suddenly hopeful.
I laughed and took a seat in our row, praying the announcement would actually be about something good, and not another one of the ‘unfortunate incidents’ that Rookwood was becoming famous for.
But as Mrs Knight took to the stage, I could see a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “Good morning, girls,” she called cheerfully.
“Good morning, Mrs Knight,” we chorused back. The chorus wasn’t quite as loud as it had been before we’d lost so many students.
“Before we go on to the hymns this morning, I have an announcement to make!” she said. “And I think this is one you’ll all enjoy.”
Scarlet nudged me. “Firing all the teachers,” she mouthed.
“We could all do with a fresh start after last term,” Mrs Knight continued. I felt that was a bit of an understatement. “And so I have prepared a special treat: a school trip!”
A ripple of excited murmurs spread across the hall. Mrs Knight held out her hands to quieten everyone down, looking unusually pleased with herself.
“Now, girls, this will be a great opportunity to show some Rookwood School spirit. We will be staying at a wonderful lakeside hotel for a week of nature activities and working together.”
Scarlet and Ariadne were grinning, but I felt a tiny shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go near another lake.
“Parents have already been notified by letter so they can give permission and pay the fees.” She smiled down at her notes. “There will also be a notice in the local paper. We want to show just how great our school can be.”
Hmm. I could see what she was up to. She was putting her brave face back on, and hoping that this would rescue the school’s reputation. I wasn’t sure it would be enough. The murderous and swindling headteachers of the past had done too much damage, surely?
Miss Bowler strutted on to the stage. “I don’t want any dilly-dallyers on this trip, so you need to sign up on the sheet, or you won’t be getting a place!”
Already everyone was whispering to each other in excitement. “We have to go,” Scarlet said in my ear. “A whole week away from Rookwood! No lessons!”
“It sounds good,” I muttered back.
“Oh, I do hope Daddy will let me go,” said Ariadne.
I shuffled awkwardly in my seat. That was a point. If our parents had to agree that we could go, and agree to pay the money … did we have any chance?
Mrs Knight continued: “Erm, right, yes, myself and Miss Bowler will be leading the trip, and there will be additional supervision from some of the elder prefects. Safety will be of the utmost importance, and we want everyone on their best behaviour.”
My twin’s expression was as mischievous as ever. “Easy,” she whispered. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Chapter Two
SCARLET
s soon as the assembly was over, we ran for the sign-up sheet.
Or at least, I ran. And I might have shoved rather a lot of people out of the way. But what mattered was that I got there first, picked up the pen dangling from a string beside it, and wrote SCARLET GREY and IVY GREY in big letters on the top two lines and ARIADNE FLITWORTH just underneath.
“You can’t write someone else’s name,” a girl behind me complained.
“I can,” I said, pointing at the sheet. “I just did.”
We had to go on this trip. There were no two ways about it. At last, an opportunity to get away from this horrible school for a whole week.
I stood back and watched as other girls began jostling to add their names to the list.
Ivy and Ariadne appeared next to me, having hurried to keep up.
“I added you both,” I told them.
“Oh, goody!” said Ariadne, clapping excitedly. Ivy just looked a bit green.
“What’s up with you, then, Ivy?” I asked.
“Do you think Father will agree to this?” she said after a pause. “Or more to the point, will Edith agree to it?”
She was right. Just having our names up there didn’t mean anything if we couldn’t get permission. I wasn’t even sure if our father would be at home right now, or if he’d be off working in the big city somewhere, and that meant the person who would receive the letter would be Edith, our stepmother. I chewed my lip. This could be difficult.
“Ugh,” I said. “You make a good point. I don’t think she’d want to open her purse strings if we were starving on the streets, let alone to send us on a school trip.”
Ivy nodded slowly. “We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.”
I looked back at the sheet – it was full already, and people were already trying to fit their names into the blank space round the side in the hopes that someone might drop out. Other notices had been knocked off the board and were scattered on the parquet flo
or of the entrance hall. I didn’t think anything like this had ever happened at Rookwood before, at least not in recent years.
I clenched my fists, determined not to let our stepmother stop me.
“We’re going,” I said confidently. “And that’s that.”
“You’re not going,” Edith’s voice sneered down the telephone, “and that’s that.”
We were sitting in Mrs Knight’s office, just me and Ivy, and we’d been allowed to make a call. Apparently our dear stepmother had received the letter already, and wasn’t impressed. “But why?” I whined. I knew I sounded childish, but I truly didn’t understand. If it had been her precious boys, she would’ve said yes without a thought.
“Because it’s a waste of my money, Scarlet,” she snapped.
You mean Father’s money, I thought, but I held my tongue for once. We stood no chance if I was rude to her. Even if she especially deserved it.
“I’m not paying for you to go off gallivanting about the countryside when you should be learning,” she continued. “Your father expects you to be getting a proper education, and we pay enough for it as it is.”
I glared up at the motivational posters on the walls. Ivy was twiddling her thumbs in the chair beside me. “It’ll be completely educational. Mrs Knight said we’re going to learn about nature.”
I could almost see Edith smirk. “Oh yes, I’m sure looking at trees will be invaluable for your future. Will it help you to get a husband or pay your way in the world?”
I must have pulled a hideous face in response, because Ivy started silently laughing. What could I say to that? My mind raced. “But what if—”
“I said NO, Scarlet. You’re staying at Rookwood. Where you belong.”
There was a click as the line cut off.
“Well, at least I’m far away from YOU, you hideous old bat!” I screeched into the receiver, slamming it down.
Ivy looked horrified. “Scarlet, you didn’t …”
I turned to her. “She hung up,” I explained.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said.
I frowned at the telephone, as if it were responsible for all our problems. This was quite the setback.
The Lights Under the Lake Page 1
