The Lost Twin

by Sophie Cleverly

  I hoped the diary might hold answers, but when I opened it again I realised that it was empty aside from the letter to me. There were only torn edges of pages that had been ripped out. Where had a year of Scarlet’s life gone?

  I looked at the words on that remaining page again, read them over and over, the ink swimming in front of my eyes. I shook my head. Don’t be as wet as you usually are, Ivy.

  I would have fallen asleep clutching the little leather book in my arms, but I couldn’t risk it. So I hid it away, and held on to the memory of my sister instead.

  The following day was a Saturday; a blessing that saved me from lessons and wearing Scarlet’s uniform. Ariadne and I returned to the dining hall and ate cold porridge for breakfast. It was lumpy and required far more chewing than it ought to have done.

  “What shall we do today?” Ariadne asked.

  I blinked up at her. What was there to do at this school?

  Luckily, she didn’t wait for me to respond. “I’d like to visit the library,” she said. “I’ve heard they have a wonderful collection.”

  So, after a sneaky look at my map in the lavatory cubicle, we took a trip to the school library. It was an impressive sight – rows and rows of enormous shelves, stretching up to a high vaulted ceiling. There were ladders on wheels for reaching the upper levels, and some girls were laughing as they pushed each other along the racks. In the centre lay numerous tables, packed with students being studious, or at least doing a good job of pretending.

  And books. There had to be hundreds, no, thousands of them. So many stories, unread. So much to learn.

  Of course, I had to pretend I was completely unimpressed. Scarlet would have seen the library many times before, and she wasn’t particularly interested in books.

  “I’ll just get … a couple out,” I said to Ariadne, trying to sound bored.

  “A couple? I’m going to get the maximum!” she exclaimed.

  And that was how we returned to our room, me carrying a meagre two books and Ariadne tottering under an enormous pile of them. If the girls hadn’t been laughing at her yesterday, they certainly were now.

  On Sunday we had to go the school chapel for a service. The sermon echoed off the walls, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I saw Scarlet everywhere, in the brass of the candles, in the stained-glass windows and in the tarnished gold collection plates. I felt like somehow she was watching me.

  It started to drizzle as we filed out under the glare of Miss Fox. I tried to hurry back through the jostling crowds with Ariadne trailing behind me. But then I checked myself. You’re trying to be Scarlet – don’t be so wet.

  Father had always said that she walked around like she owned the place, like there was a pole down the back of her dress. So that was what I had to do.

  And it worked! The stream of girls began to move out of my way as I climbed the steps of the school. I turned back to Ariadne and smiled at her. She stopped and waved back, almost getting trampled in the process.

  That was a bit more like it, wasn’t it, Scarlet?

  That night, accompanied by Ariadne’s gentle snoring, I took out the diary, just to hold it. But I soon found myself reading the words again.

  Scarlet’s last line, that oft-heard insult – ‘don’t be as wet as you usually are – just look in the mirror’ – had been playing on my mind. It seemed out of place somehow. And why would Scarlet underline it? Unless …

  What if it’s one of Scarlet’s secret messages that used to drive me mad? What if she’s telling me to look for something? She said she’d try to leave me with some advice – did that mean this was a clue?

  I looked at the underlined words again – first, something wet. A lake? A river? That seemed unlikely. And second, somewhere with mirrors …

  The bathrooms.

  It jumped into my head as if Scarlet had whispered it right in my ear.

  It was lights out, and everyone was in bed. There was a good chance that Miss Fox would be patrolling the corridors, looking for rule-breakers. Then again, surely needing the lavatory was a valid excuse to be up in the night. I sat up in bed and looked down at my shoes. Too noisy; I’d have to go barefoot.

  I tiptoed to the door – my ballet training was certainly useful for something. I had to tug on the handle hard and it made a squeaking noise as it opened that was like a scream in my head. I winced as I stuck my head out and surveyed the corridor. Empty. The nearby door marked ‘Matron’ was shut tight.

  I hurried towards the bathrooms. Every time I passed a door, I half expected Miss Fox to leap out from behind it. Suddenly there was a bang from the other end of the corridor, and I almost jumped out of my nightgown. It was only a window, left hanging open in the breeze.

  There was a dim light in the lavatories, but through the door marked ‘Bathrooms’ it was a different story. I could just make out a small row of doors along the dark corridor, each with a number on it.

  My heart beat faster as I tried the handle of the first door.

  Inside was an enormous cast-iron bath, rusting at the edges, a flat-framed mirror and a faint smell of mildew.

  I pictured Scarlet walking into the room, walking right through me. I pictured her when we were five, climbing into the bath and splashing me with soapy water. Then I pictured her sneaking in here to hide something in the last days of her life.

  “What am I even looking for, Scarlet?” I whispered. There was a lump rising in my throat.

  I walked to the mirror, ran my fingers over the cold glass. My reflection stared back at me, and I had to look away. I tugged on the mirror, wondering if there was anything behind it, but it was screwed tightly to the wall.

  I looked around the chilly room. The pages obviously couldn’t be in the bath. They certainly weren’t next to it. That left only one place – underneath.

  I crouched down and felt along the rough iron surface …

  Nothing. My heart sank faster than the Titanic.

  But then – I could almost hear Scarlet’s laughter ringing out in my head – there were four more bathrooms to choose from, weren’t there?

  Two and three were as empty as number one. I shivered in my nightgown.

  As I walked into number four, I thought I heard a muffled noise, somewhere nearby. I stood stock-still and listened, but there was no sound apart from the dripping of a tap. It must have been a mouse. These old buildings were full of them.

  That gave me a thought. Where do mice live? Holes. Holes in the skirting, holes in the floorboards. Hiding places.

  I crouched down and I crawled around to where the pipes descended through the floorboards. There was a jagged gap surrounding the lead pipes, just large enough to fit my fingers through.

  I touched something. Paper.

  “Oh my goodness!” I whispered, drawing it out. My hands were shaking. The pages were crumpled and covered with dust, but Scarlet’s flowing handwriting was clearly visible on them.

  It was then that I heard the noise again, even closer than before. I had to get back to my room as soon as possible. I walked out of the bathroom and pulled the door to behind me, as quietly as I could. And then I turned to go back into the lavatories.

  Only someone was in my way.

  “Hello, Scarlet,” Penny said, grinning and showing her pointy teeth. “What do you think you’re doing in here at this hour?”

  I was right about there being a mouse. I was the mouse.

  And Penny was the cat about to eat me alive.

  enny glared at me. “I said, ‘what are you doing in here?’”

  I scrunched the diary pages tightly in my fist behind my back. “I’m … it’s … nothing. I just needed to go to the lavatory, that’s all.”

  “You’re up to something,” she said, leaning towards me. “It’s after lights out and you’ve been creeping around in the bathrooms. I’ve a good mind to tell the matron. Or how about Miss Fox?”

  She stood there, arms folded, eyes narrowed.

  “But,” I said, my mind racing to
keep up with my mouth, “won’t you get into trouble as well? You’re not supposed to be up either.” There was a flicker of doubt in her expression. “Why don’t we just go back to our rooms?”

  Suddenly, she grabbed my arm and pulled it out in front of me. “Listen, you little worm,” she hissed. “This is my school, and you can’t sweet talk your way out of everything, understand?”

  I could barely breathe. I was praying that she didn’t grab my other arm as well.

  Thankfully, Penny didn’t seem to notice. “You think you can just walk back in here and get away with everything again, don’t you?” she said.

  “D-do I?” I stuttered.

  “What was that?” she said, her grip tightening.

  It was taking all my strength not to panic and cry. Scarlet would be tugging out a lock of Penny’s copper hair or kicking her hard in the shins. I thought that wouldn’t exactly be the smartest thing to do, though. Penny had the look of someone who would scream like a banshee, and I didn’t want the teachers to come running.

  Instead, I decided to try reason. “Penny, let’s just … forget about it, all right? Whatever I did, I—”

  “You know what you did,” she interrupted, digging her nails into my wrist.

  I gritted my teeth. “Well … I’m sorry about it. Now, can you please let me go, before we both get a caning?”

  Her glaring eyes bore into me. “Sorry? That’s all you can say?”

  I blinked at her.

  “Fine,” she said, her voice turning strangely calm. “But you’re not forgiven. And when I find out what you’re up to this time, it won’t be a secret for long.”

  I watched Penny stalk out of the room. A full minute later, I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief, and brought my fist holding the diary pages shakily in front of me again.

  What a nightmare.

  I went back down the dark corridor as silently as I could, and prised open door number thirteen. Ariadne was asleep with her pillow over her head. Good.

  I folded the thin cotton sheets and the blankets back over myself and flattened out the new pages against the wall.

  You’re going to meet a girl named Penny Winchester. She’s got a whole swarm of bees in her bonnet when it comes to me, so you should STAY AWAY FROM HER.

  That was Scarlet – always late.

  Penny thinks she’s the queen, and will try and order you about so you have to put her in her place. She actually has more in common with a poisonous toad.

  I smiled for the first time in what felt like days.

  The other person you have to watch out for is Nadia Sayani. She’s shaping up to be Penny’s new sidekick. She looks pretty and simple but don’t be fooled; she’s super rich and super clever, so you’ll have to brush up on your acting skills. She might spot that something’s afoot.

  I wasn’t sure if I was capable of acting anything but suspicious.

  Now, you need to find the rest of my diary. You CANNOT let anyone else see it. But someone needs to know the truth about

  About what?

  I looked around frantically. Had I dropped the next page somewhere?

  No, I couldn’t have. They were scrunched up so tightly in my hand that I had almost lost the feeling in it.

  So what was the next clue? Scarlet was probably up there laughing at me, calling me a dunce for not knowing the obvious place she had hidden the other pages.

  The truth about what?

  I gently tucked the pages inside the leather cover of the diary, and got down on all fours to hide it back inside the mattress, and then I climbed into bed.

  A delicate snore came from Ariadne’s side, and reminded me that it was getting late. Tomorrow was another day. Another day of doing a bad impersonation of my twin. Another day spent fearing that someone would catch me out at any moment.

  Another day without Scarlet.

  I pulled my pillow over my head, and tried my hardest to go to sleep, as Scarlet’s final words danced across my mind.

  On Monday we were woken at seven by a shrill bell. I sat there at breakfast, feeling uncomfortable in Scarlet’s uniform, as Mrs Knight babbled away about something to do with her rhododendrons. Penny wasn’t looking at me. I hoped that she was keeping quiet about last night.

  We had an assembly, where we sang hymns and listened to Miss Fox drone on about the school rules. She obviously liked rules much more than she liked people. There seemed to be hundreds, and I wondered how I was ever going to remember them all.

  Our first lesson was history and luckily Ariadne had spent yesterday memorising our timetable and the classroom map, so I was able to follow her to class.

  “Are you good at history, Scarlet?” she asked me as we walked. “It’s my favourite.”

  Scarlet was useless at history. I, on the other hand, had a great memory for names and dates. “It’s all right, I suppose,” I said feebly.

  “My great-great-granddaddy fought against Napoleon, you know,” replied Ariadne.

  I feigned polite interest, but as we walked through the echoing corridors all I could think about was how to keep up this act in front of Scarlet’s teachers. Surely they would notice that I wasn’t my sister?

  We joined a line of girls outside the classroom and filed in silently. I suddenly realised, too late, that I had no idea which desk belonged to Scarlet.

  I felt like a bird in a flock that had just flown the wrong way. Which seat should I choose?

  “What’s the matter, Scarlet?” said a simpering voice that could only belong to Penny. “Did you leave your brain at home?”

  Giggles flooded the room as my cheeks heated up. At that moment there was a thud and a giant cloud of white dust billowed out of a cupboard.

  From the cloud of dust emerged a coughing, white-haired woman. She waved her hand frantically, trying to disperse it. We all stared as she coughed for what felt like an age, and then finally slammed her blackboard rubbers down on her desk and pointed a quivering finger at me.

  “Scarlet Grey!” she said, in an accusatory tone.

  “Yes, Miss?” I responded, trying to hide the fear in my voice.

  “That’s Madame Lovelace to you, insolent girl!” She pronounced it Loveless. “Why aren’t you at your desk?”

  “I-I fancied a change of scenery?”

  I heard snickers from behind me.

  Madame Lovelace glared. “And you,” she said. “Who are you?”

  Hang on a minute. Who was she talking to? I turned around and saw Ariadne standing just behind me, looking sheepish.

  “Um,” said Ariadne. “I’m new.”

  Madame Lovelace gave an exaggerated sigh. “Both of you, sit down,” she said, jabbing her finger in the direction of two unoccupied desks in the first row.

  Relieved, I hurried to the nearest one and sat down.

  “Now, girls,” said the teacher, slapping at her dusty dress. “Open your desks and take out your pens, please. Today we shall be studying the Battle of Waterloo.”

  The lid of my desk was woodworm-speckled and decorated with a little brass number four, plus many years of idle scratches. I lifted it up. It smelt of ink and paper inside, and a familiar floral scent that went straight to my heart.

  Scarlet. It was the rose perfume that she’d worn for the past few years after getting a bottle of it for Christmas.

  I glanced around the class to see if anyone else had noticed the smell, but the other students looked half asleep. Madame Lovelace began to dictate lines about Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington.

  Ariadne put her hand up. “My great-great-granddaddy fought against Napoleon,” she said.

  “Very nice, dear,” said Madame Lovelace, looking displeased at the interruption.

  I peered into the desk. There was a book in the bottom, with The History of Great Britain written in dull, heavy letters on the cover. I took it out.

  “Now,” said Madame Lovelace, “turn to page fifty-three for a list of the important historical figures involved in the battle. Make a note of
these, as you will need to remember them.” She punctuated every sentence with occasional coughs.

  I heard Penny giggle quietly behind me.

  I opened up the book and the smell of Scarlet’s perfume hit me so strongly I almost choked. It was as though she’d poured it all over the pages. I looked at Ariadne. Even she was wrinkling her mousey nose, so I slammed the cover shut.

  “Miss Grey!” shouted Madame Lovelace.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes Madame. Do you have a problem with your book?”

  “No, Madame.”

  “Then kindly stop abusing it and pay attention!”

  For the rest of the lesson I tried to ignore the perfume, but it felt like it was seeping into my mind. Why would Scarlet have brought her precious bottle into class?

  At ten o’clock the bell rang and everyone began to filter out of the room. I had to think of a reason to stay behind.

  “Madame Lovelace?” I asked.

  She peered up at me over her thick-rimmed glasses. “Yes, Miss Grey?”

  “May I clean the blackboard for you?”

  Madame Lovelace looked like I’d just offered to spit in her tea. “Are you up to something, girl?” she said, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she frowned. “The Scarlet Grey I know wouldn’t have cleaned my blackboard without the threat of the cane.”

  Oh no! She might tell Miss Fox and then … No. Stay calm. My mind scrambled for something to say.

  “I’m turning over a new leaf.” I swallowed and tried again. “I shouldn’t have been insolent earlier. I thought I should make up for it.”

  I half expected Madame Lovelace to stand up, point her bony finger at me and shriek that I was an imposter. Scarlet never made apologies for herself. I was always the one who had to do the apologising.

  But it didn’t happen. Instead, she just blinked at me a few times and then said, “Very well. Just make sure you clap the rubbers out afterwards. I do hate chalk dust.” She gave a small cough again, and I wasn’t sure whether or not she was illustrating her point. “You can have a house point for that.”

  I nodded, although I had no idea what a house point was, or what I did with one.