Suddenly, Elsie Sparks appeared behind Ariadne. “Miss said lights out, you little weasels!” she snapped.
She blew out the candle and then slammed the door shut, plunging us into darkness.
Chapter Eight
SCARLET
couldn’t sleep.
I lay awake in the dark. The four-poster bed was warm and comfortable, much better than what I was used to, even if it was a little musty. But there was a chill coming from the fireplace, and I couldn’t escape it without putting my head under the covers. And trying that had caused Ivy to prod me and whisper that I should stop messing around.
And on top of that, there had been the noises. Footsteps and dull banging and creaks from the walls. It was actually almost familiar – Rookwood was the same – but in a new place it was still unsettling.
Now Ivy was breathing steadily and twitching in her dreams, and I was pretty sure Ariadne was snoring. At least, someone was snoring, and Rose didn’t seem like the type.
I sighed and rolled over. We hadn’t shut the curtains, and there was a little moonlight, enough to cast the weird bath in shadow.
There was something odd about the Shady Pines Hotel, and whatever it was making me feel on edge. Stop being so stupid, I told myself. You wanted to get away from Rookwood. And you’re as far away from Miss Fox and the asylum as you’ll ever be. Nothing is going to go wrong.
That was when I heard a loud gasp from the corridor.
Well, now I was awake. I slipped out of the bed and over to the doorway, and pulled it open as gently as I could manage.
There were still lamps lit along the corridor, and Mrs Rudge was standing by the nearest one, staring at the wall opposite our door. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her face was pale and her hand was clamped over her mouth.
I shut the door gently behind me. “Mrs Rudge?”
She jumped and then turned to face me, lowering her hand. “Ah, Miss …” She trailed off, apparently realising she didn’t actually know my name.
“Scarlet Grey,” I said automatically. What had she seen? “Did something startle you?”
Her eyes flickered. “Well, you did, a little.”
“I meant before that,” I said. “I couldn’t sleep and I heard you gasp.”
“It was nothing,” she said quickly. She straightened her apron. “I was coming to put out the lamps for the night, and I thought I saw a mouse; I’ll, um … just finish putting these out, shall I?” She cupped her hand round the lamp and blew it out, and then hurried away to the next one.
I stepped into the corridor and examined the place she’d been staring at. There was a cross hanging from the wall. It was golden and quite ornate, and the nail it was dangling from looked haphazardly tapped in, like it was only just hanging on.
I frowned. I could’ve sworn that hadn’t been there before. It seemed out of place among the portraits of posh dead people. Why on earth was Mrs Rudge so frightened of it? She didn’t seem like a wet blanket – or at least I thought she couldn’t be, not living in such a remote place with such a cranky husband. She had to be tougher than she looked. But a cross on the wall had just scared the stuffing out of her!
Maybe Mrs Rudge is a vampire and that’s why she’s afraid of crosses, I thought, chuckling to myself.
I had questions, but tiredness won. I was exhausted and the lights in the corridor were almost all out. I needed to go to bed before it became too dark to see.
I darted into the room and shut the door behind me, then felt my way to the bed. I jumped under the covers, relief washing over me.
Ivy rolled over. “You kicked me,” she mumbled.
“And you’re talking in your sleep,” I said.
I woke the next morning feeling strangely light, like something was missing. My head swam with fog. As I pushed myself up on to the feather pillows, I realised what it was. There was no shrieking Rookwood morning bell!
Ivy had apparently noticed this as well. “It’s so quiet,” she said with a yawn.
Ariadne was already up, and she was leaning on the windowsill, brushing her hair. “Can you hear that?”
“Hear what?” I said, swinging my legs out. The fireplace didn’t seem so draughty in the morning sun.
“Birds singing,” she said with a grin. “Actual singing! Not just cawing and squawking! There must be lots of different birds around here.”
Reluctantly I got out of the bed and opened up my suitcase. I pulled one of the dresses from it and held it up against myself. It was a bit odd to have to wear Ivy’s clothes, even if she was my twin. I made a mental note to ask Aunt Sara if she could make me something.
Soon all three of us were dressed, but Rose was still lying in the other four-poster bed. She was awake, but she didn’t seem to want to move.
“Are you coming down for breakfast, Rose?” Ariadne asked.
Rose shook her head, but she was smiling. “I like it here,” she said quietly. Which I thought was a little odd, but then everything about her was.
“I’ll bring you some toast,” said Ariadne.
“If there’s toast,” I said, “I might actually jump for joy.”
There was toast. I didn’t quite jump for joy, but I did shout “Yes!”, earning myself a telling-off from Miss Bowler. She asked where “whatsername” was, and we told her Rose was still resting.
The Shady Pines dining room was big, with huge windows looking over the lake. Everyone from Rookwood was wandering in and finding somewhere to sit, with the teachers presiding over us to make sure we didn’t do anything disruptive (like yelling with excitement). There were other guests too, though not many. The tables weren’t in long rows like at Rookwood, but arranged in little clusters. Each one had four chairs round it, and was laid out with toast and marmalade and jam. You could order boiled eggs and kippers and, most importantly, there wasn’t any gloopy grey porridge in sight.
“This is wonderful,” Ariadne sighed. “A proper breakfast.”
I spread my toast with strawberry jam and tucked in gleefully, but my mind was elsewhere. Mrs Rudge was running around beside the serving girl, making sure everyone had their food, but besides seeming a bit flustered, she didn’t look terrified any more.
I realised that I hadn’t told Ivy and the others what I’d seen, and I suddenly felt dreadful. We’d promised no more secrets. I hadn’t really been keeping it a secret, I suppose, but I’d still forgotten to tell them.
“Psst,” I hissed. I gestured at Ivy and Ariadne to lean in. “I woke up last night, and I saw Mrs Rudge in the corridor. She was acting funny and staring at this cross on the wall.”
“That is odd,” said Ariadne, peering at the hotel owner without any sort of discretion. “I didn’t see any crosses.”
“Excuse me,” said a voice, and we all jumped back.
The voice belonged to a woman. She was tall, blonde and pretty, wearing a dark long-sleeved blouse and rolled-up trousers, and there was a cap on top of her perfectly curled hair. She looked like she was about to go hiking.
“Phyllis Moss,” she said. “How do you do?” She shook all of our hands and, slightly puzzled, we gave her our names. “I couldn’t help noticing that you have a spare seat at your table. May I sit with you all?”
I was about to ask why she didn’t just sit at her own table, but Ariadne beat me to it with a friendly smile. “Of course! I don’t think our friend is coming down.”
“Wonderful,” the woman replied, taking the seat. She looked over at me, and then answered my question as if she had read my mind. “My husband has gone out early, you see. He’s an ornithologist. That’s—”
“Someone who studies birds!” Ariadne piped up.
“Precisely! He says there’s all kinds of rare species around here. He’s such a bore about it, honestly,” she said with a good-natured laugh. “I couldn’t stop him heading out at six am with the binoculars.”
We all sat there for a moment, unsure quite what to say.
“… toast?” said Ivy, pushin
g the rack over to Phyllis.
“Ooh, lovely,” she said. She picked up a piece and began spreading butter on it daintily. I didn’t think I’d ever seen butter spread daintily before. My efforts usually ended in torn toast.
“So you girls are on a school trip?” Phyllis said, reaching for the marmalade. “This is a bit of an unusual destination, isn’t it?”
“Our headmistress thinks we need to get to grips with nature,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Yes,” Ivy chimed in. “She wants us to do lots of activities, apparently.”
“Well, that’s a good idea!” Phyllis said cheerily. “You never know when it might come in handy. I actually teach orienteering skills myself. Who’s your headmistress? I might offer my services …”
“The lady over there with the glasses, who looks constantly enthusiastic,” I said, pointing at Mrs Knight – although now I thought about it, Phyllis Moss looked like she had plenty of enthusiasm to share too.
“Oh, here’s my husband!” She suddenly stood up and waved him over. “Julian, this is Scarlet, Ivy and Ariadne.”
The man came over and put his arm round his wife. He was wearing a grey tweed suit-jacket and trousers that were muddy at the knees, and a pair of binoculars hung round his neck.
“Charmed,” he said shyly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “How’s my lovely wife?”
“Well, I was a little lonely having breakfast by myself,” she said, giving him a playful jab.
“Those peregrines won’t watch themselves,” Julian teased back. These two were sickening.
“But,” she continued, “the girls’ friend hasn’t come down for breakfast, so they let me sit with them. They’ve just told me that their headmistress wants to do some nature activities here. So I might be able to help out.”
“Sounds wonderful, darling. I must be off again, though.” He picked up a slice of dry toast. “I want to see if I can spot a pied flycatcher.”
“Oh, all right.” Phyllis pouted a little and reluctantly let him disappear from the dining hall. She sat down again and finished her toast, then wiped the crumbs from her cheeks. “I’m going to have a little chat with your headmistress and see if we can arrange something fun. Lovely to meet you!” She headed off in the direction of Mrs Knight.
“She seemed nice,” said Ariadne.
“If you like people who are totally insipid,” I said, and Ivy whacked me with a napkin. I hoped I could finish my breakfast in peace now.
And that was when Cassandra walked in and screeched: “WHO’S BEEN GOING THROUGH MY THINGS?”
Chapter Nine
IVY
veryone in the hall turned to face Cassandra. I’d been raising a cup of tea to my mouth and had almost thrown it in my lap. Why was she so angry?
Miss Bowler stood up and marched towards her. “Miss Clarkson, I hope you have a good reason for shouting like that in front of all these guests? Is the hotel on fire? Is the world ending?”
Cassandra was shaking with rage, and even the threat of Miss Bowler didn’t stall her. “Someone’s taken my necklace!” Her eyes flicked around the room and then came to settle at our table. Her nostrils flared and she barrelled over. “Was it your weird little friend, hmm?” She whispered angrily in my ear. “Where is she? All her clothes are stolen; she steals our friend’s place on the trip; now she wants to steal my jewellery too?”
I was about to say something in retaliation, but Miss Bowler pulled her off me. The teacup wobbled in my hand. “What is the meaning of this? What necklace?”
Cassandra spun round, breathing heavily. “My grand-mother gave me a gold locket on my birthday, Miss. It’s a family heirloom, and someone’s taken it! They’ve rifled through mine and Elsie’s suitcases and the necklace is gone!” She looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Elsie was in the archway that led into the dining room now, her face red and her arms folded.
“I bet I know who did it,” she said darkly.
“Now then, girls,” said Mrs Knight, heading over from where she’d been talking with Phyllis Moss, presumably about orienteering. “Let’s go to your room and sort this out, shall we? You’ve probably just misplaced it. We’ll have a look round. No more shouting, please.” She held her arms out and raised her voice. “Rookwood girls, finish your breakfast, get ready and then we’ll meet up at the hotel entrance for our first activity!”
Cassandra leant down by my ear again. “I’ll get her for this,” she hissed. Then she marched back out, Mrs Knight shepherding her and Elsie towards the stairs.
I saw other guests shaking their heads in dismay, and slowly a murmur of conversation began to bubble up again.
“What did she say to you?” Scarlet frowned.
“She thinks Rose stole her necklace,” I said. I thought that was very unlikely. Violet may have stolen clothes and food for Rose in the past, but Rose herself had never been a thief.
“We don’t even know if it’s really been stolen!” Her frown deepened. “I don’t trust those two.”
“Me neither,” said Ariadne.
I finally took a sip of the tea. It had gone cold.
We went back to the room after breakfast and found Rose sitting on the bed. She was up and dressed this time, and reading one of the pony books that she’d borrowed from the school library.
“Rose,” Scarlet said as we walked in. “I hate to tell you this, but I think you’re a wanted criminal.”
Rose put the book down. “What?” she said quietly.
“Cassandra and Elsie said someone went through their things and stole a necklace,” I explained. “They think it was you, for some reason.”
“Violet’s fault, I think,” Scarlet added, with a little too much glee.
Rose looked horrified.
“Well, we know it wasn’t you who stole it, if it was indeed stolen,” said Ariadne. “Because you were here all night, and this morning you’ve just been in here reading, haven’t you?”
Rose nodded carefully.
“Not to mention,” Scarlet added, kicking her foot against the corner of the bedframe, “that Rose wouldn’t steal anything in the first place. Who do those witches think they are?”
We had gone past their room, but the door had been shut, and all we could hear was muffled conversation coming from inside. I wondered if Cassandra’s heirloom would be found under a sock or something, and she’d have to say sorry. She didn’t seem the type to apologise.
We started getting ready to go out on whatever activity it was Mrs Knight had planned. I didn’t own any trousers or walking boots, so I had to make do with some thick woollen stockings and my school shoes. Scarlet wore much the same, while Rose wore a pair of jodhpurs and Ariadne actually had what looked like a full hiking outfit.
“Where did you get those clothes from?” I asked.
Ariadne was unpacking her camera equipment, rolls of film in their black cases and boxes of paper spilling out of the bag. She craned her head up to look at me, and gestured down at herself. “Oh, all this? Daddy bought it for me when I was at my old school. We used to go on nature walks, and he said I had to be prepared for the dangers of the outside world.” She sighed. “I’m surprised he didn’t send me a safety helmet and a lifejacket when he heard about this trip.”
I giggled. I could certainly imagine him doing that.
She pulled the camera strap round her neck. “I can’t wait to get started on the photographs. I need to document as much of the trip as possible for Mrs Knight.” She grinned, apparently very pleased at her new responsibility.
When we were all dressed, we headed out into the corridor.
“THERE SHE IS!” a voice yelled.
Within moments, Cassandra was bearing down on us. She towered over Rose.
“Did you take it? Did you take my necklace?”
Rose said nothing.
“What’s the matter?” Cassandra sneered. “Cat got your tongue? Answer me!”
Elsie peered out of their room and then hurr
ied over. “Cassie,” she said, “it’s probably just lost. That’s what Mrs Knight said.” She looked around hurriedly. I had the suspicion that she knew the teachers were nearby, and didn’t want to endanger her prefect status.
Cassandra leant in closer, and her eyes glinted. “Look, she has a gold necklace on, I can see the chain peeking out of her jumper! It’s mine, isn’t it? Give it back, thief!”
I stepped forward. “That’s not yours. It’s Rose’s. She always wears it!” Scarlet stepped forward too, always ready for a fight.
“It’s true,” said Ariadne, her chin wobbling. “It is hers.”
“Oh, really?” The prefect’s expression turned more mean than angry. “Then show it to me.”
She reached out and tried to grab the chain, but Rose batted her hand away with surprising strength. “No,” she said firmly.
I think it was the loudest I’d ever heard Rose speak, and it made Ariadne gasp. Seconds later, Rose was tucking the necklace away inside her jumper and running for the stairs, Cassandra gaping after her. I half wondered why Rose wouldn’t show them the locket, but then she didn’t owe those two anything.
“That practically proves it! She must be guilty! The little creep …”
Elsie grabbed her arm. “Stop it, Cassie. We’re going to be late. And we’re supposed to be in charge of these shrimps.”
Scarlet glared furiously at them both. “You’re not better than us just because you’re bigger and older, and a murderer gave you a shiny badge. Grow up!”
And with that, my twin stomped away, leaving both of the prefects with perfectly horrified expressions, and Ariadne and me standing beside them.
Ariadne held up the camera. “Smile?” she said.
Mrs Knight and Miss Bowler were standing in the courtyard in front of the hotel, with a crowd of girls in front of them. The weather was warm but humid, and grey clouds were swimming overhead and threatening rain at any moment.
As we made our way into the crowd, I noticed that there was a third person beside the teachers. It was Phyllis Moss, our breakfast-table invader. There were various boxes at her feet, and a stack of papers.
The Lights Under the Lake Page 5
