“And we were wrong about you and the necklace,” Cassandra said. It looked like saying the words physically pained her. “And I shouldn’t have accused you of stealing it.”
Rose nodded again, that mischievous smile totally priceless.
“I think she’ll let you off … this time,” I said.
“You may go now,” Scarlet said, waving them away.
We all collapsed laughing.
Back in our room, we packed up our things. The bus would be able to get through, Mrs Knight had said, now that the tree was cleared. So it was back to Rookwood once again.
In a way, I’d miss this place, I thought as I folded my clothes back into my suitcase. I was glad the trip was over, after all that had happened, but, well … Lake Seren was beautiful, and Rookwood was Rookwood. It was stew and chilly baths and hospital bedsheets. It was the screaming morning bell and chalk dust and endless dark corridors.
But there was something about Rookwood too. With my friends by my side, it wasn’t all bad. There were things to be learnt and secrets to uncover.
And besides, we just had to last the rest of the term. Then it would be time for the summer holidays, and just maybe we’d be allowed to stay with Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Sara. It all depended on whether our stepmother was involved – I just hoped she wouldn’t find out about the trip. The last thing we needed was more trouble.
And after the summer? A whole new year at Rookwood. A fresh start, perhaps. Without the shadow of Miss Fox and Mr Bartholomew hanging over everything. Maybe things could really be different this time.
Ariadne placed her final suitcase on top of her stack of them. “Phew,” she said, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I think I’m done!”
“I think you forgot something,” Scarlet said.
Ariadne looked distraught. “Oh no! What did I forget?”
“ME!” Scarlet yelled, tackling Ariadne to the floor.
Rose snorted with laughter, and I couldn’t help grinning. I couldn’t ever forget Scarlet. I had to remember what we’d said – as long as we were together, everything would be all right in the end.
We said our goodbyes to the Rudges, to the hotel guests and to Bob. Scarlet made him promise to behave, and he just laughed and put his hat on her head. Mr Rudge had already begun the plans for the village memorial. Things were changing, moving forward.
Ariadne took one last photograph of all of us together, standing in front of the hotel, in the sun. I had a suspicion that this would be the one to make it into the school newsletter. Well – at least, if she’d managed to avoid the moment where Scarlet was pulling a face.
“I’m going to send this one to Daddy too,” Ariadne said as she lowered the camera. “I hope he liked my picture with the water nymphs.”
“It was a masterpiece,” Scarlet said. “And it cannot be repeated.”
Ariadne laughed. “Oh, I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve got some ideas …”
The bus was waiting down the hill, and we all trekked towards it, lugging our suitcases. Mrs Knight counted us on with her good arm, the other still bandaged.
“Can’t we just leave those two behind?” Scarlet asked, tilting her head at Elsie and Cassandra.
“Get on the bus, Grey,” Miss Bowler said, unimpressed.
You could hear the rush of the dam as we climbed on, still letting out the water from the lake. You could see the surface was getting lower, creeping away from the shoreline.
When Mrs Knight was satisfied that no one had been lost this time, she told the driver to get going. “Right, everyone!” she called out. “Back to Rookwood. After this term, we’ll be having a new start. Many new pupils will be joining us …” She took a deep breath. “So let’s get this year over with, shall we?” She sat down heavily at the front, with a huge sigh of relief.
I didn’t blame her one bit.
The bus began to chug away down the hill, and we took the opportunity to look out over the lake, Scarlet leaning over me, Ariadne and Rose in the seats behind us. It was breathtaking in the sun. Deep blues and greens, the dotted white shapes of sheep on the hills, the fairy-tale tower tall and majestic. It all shone in a valley so beautiful that I could see why Mr Owens loved it so much. The darkness had lifted. I hoped that the spirits of the villagers might rest now.
“Oh my gosh!” Ariadne said suddenly. “Look!”
I peered out, and realised what she was pointing at. Everyone gasped, and Ariadne – of course – took a photograph.
There, in the lake, I could see the tip of the church tower rising from the waters. I wondered, as the breeze blew, if the bells might start to ring.
“Goodbye, Lake Seren!” Scarlet waved as we drove past. “Goodbye, Shady Pines!”
But I was still staring at the church tower.
And I could have sworn, for a moment, that I saw something golden glinting in the sunlight.
THE END
Acknowledgements
This book owes a debt to my own school trips, where we stumbled over sheep skulls in muddy forests, listened to ghost stories in pitch-black caves and climbed jutting cliffs in the rain. And also to my parents, for taking me to visit the stunning Lake Vyrnwy, one of the places on which this book is very loosely based.
There are many more people who have helped bring this book to life. Thanks go to:
My marvellous editors – Lizzie Clifford for all her support with the series and in helping to plan this book, and Sarah Hughes and Samantha Stewart for lending their editing expertise in the later stages. And to all the fab folk at HarperCollins, who have worked so hard.
Superagent Jenny Savill, and all at Andrew Nurnberg Associates.
Illustrators Kate Forrester and Manuel Šumberac – thank you for interpreting my words so beautifully. And to Elisabetta Barbazza, who is a fantastic cover designer.
My indispensable writing-advice givers: r/YAwriters, #UKMGchat, the Bath Spa gang and the MA Writing Group of Wonders. I don’t know where I’d be without all of you lot!
To my online followers, and to those who spend time chatting with me or counselling me – you are wonderful; please don’t change.
Last but never least, to Ed, and to all my friends and family. Thank you for existing. You are my favourites.
And, as always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the trip, but soon we’ll be returning to Rookwood, and All Hallows’ Eve is approaching …
A creepy boarding school.
A sudden disappearance.
A secret diary waiting to be found.
This is the story of how I became my sister …
The wind is howling.
The rain is freezing.
But that’s not the reason why pupils at Rookwood School are feeling the chill …
Beloved ballet teacher Miss Finch suddenly disappears.
Poison-pen letters start circulating.
“Accidents” are plaguing the students.
Is someone out for the ultimate revenge?
About the Author
SOPHIE CLEVERLY was born in Bath in 1989. She wrote her first story at the age of four, though it used no punctuation and was essentially one long sentence. Thankfully, things have improved somewhat since then, and she has earned a BA in Creative Writing and an MA in Writing for Young People from Bath Spa University.
Now working as a full-time writer, Sophie lives with her husband in Wiltshire, where she has a house full of books and a garden full of crows.
Books by Sophie Cleverly
The Scarlet and Ivy series in reading order
THE LOST TWIN
THE WHISPERS IN THE WALLS
THE DANCE IN THE DARK
THE LIGHTS UNDER THE LAKE
About the Publisher
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United Kingdom
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The Lights Under the Lake Page 19
