Scarlet and Ivy 3-book Collection Volume 1

“The weekend!” she shouted, far too cheerily for so early in the morning. “It’s the second Saturday, in fact. That means we’re allowed to leave the school grounds, right?”

I blinked. Perhaps this was one of the rules Miss Fox had told me in her office on the first day. “Oh yes,” I said. Ariadne was usually right about these things.

As we ate our meagre breakfast of lumpy porridge, Mrs Knight informed Ariadne that we were indeed allowed to walk to the local village of Rookwood. “There’s not much there,” she said. “A post office and a grocer’s, and a church. That’s about it.”

I nodded along and attempted to look a bit bored, as if I was well familiar with the place. In truth, I was desperate to get out of the school. The past week had felt like a lifetime. It was like being trapped in an enormous box filled with people who hated me, or at least hated Scarlet. Even a trip to the post office – with nothing more to do than to watch people licking stamps – was preferable.

“Can I send a letter to my parents?” asked Ariadne.

“Of course,” Mrs Knight replied. “But the postmaster puts aside any from pupils that don’t have the official seal on them. The school has to check them first, you see.”

Ariadne frowned. “Why?”

“I … I’m not totally sure. It’s just the rules.” Mrs Knight looked a little perturbed then, and Ariadne wisely stopped asking questions. I was pretty certain that I knew the reason – Miss Fox didn’t want anyone bad-mouthing her precious school to their fee-paying parents. Thank goodness I hadn’t tried to send that letter to Aunt Phoebe – who knows what trouble I’d have got into for that.

But maybe I could write to Aunt Phoebe again. I could be cryptic this time, write to her in riddles, like Scarlet would. And if it got through to her, she might be able to send help.

Back in our dorm, I waited impatiently for Ariadne to go to the lavatories and then retrieved the diary. As I took it out, I fumbled and some of the papers fell to the floor. I gathered them hurriedly, feeling like my secrets were spilling out for all to see. The words stared up at me: Ivy, Penny, Violet, the Fox. You’re the new me. Someone needs to know the truth.

I flipped past a page with something scribbled about being hungry on it and the entry about Nadia, until I found my original letter to Aunt Phoebe. How things had changed in such a short time! I knew now that I had to be smarter, had to try to stay one step ahead of Miss Fox.

I carefully returned all the pages and hid the diary in my mattress once more. By the time Ariadne returned, I was sitting on my bed composing a new letter.

Dear Aunt Phoebe,

I hope you are well. Did you remember to water the plants? And have you got enough coal for the winter? Make sure you tell Mr Phillips from the village if you haven’t got enough.

The school is certainly interesting. Remember when we got that letter, by the pond that day, what we talked about? I’ve found something relating to it. I hope I’ll find out more soon. Please write back.

Best wishes,

Your loving niece

There. I hope that would be vague enough to escape Miss Fox’s attention. I almost signed my name, before realising I didn’t know which to write. If I wrote ‘Ivy’ there was a chance that someone would see, and Miss Fox would be furious with me. And I couldn’t write ‘Scarlet’, not unless I wanted to give my aunt a heart attack.

Once Ariadne had finished her own letter, we tucked them into envelopes in her satchel and got ready to leave.

“I’ll go and get Miss Fox to seal them,” she said. I smiled, grateful but wary. Would it pass scrutiny?

Thankfully Ariadne returned a short time later, looking only a little shaken. She was brandishing two freshly sealed letters, and soon we were walking down the great stone steps at the front of the school. The sun was bright, but in the shadow of the grand building the air was chilly.

“It’s going to be wonderful,” said Ariadne, tugging on my arm. “I’m going to buy apples and chocolate and …” She must have seen me wince, because she loosened her grip and took hold of my hand instead. “Sorry, do you feel a little better yet?”

“Oh, it’s not too bad really,” I said, trying to put on a brave face. “Definitely improving. Thank you for getting the letters sealed. I’m not keen to see Miss Fox again in a hurry.”

“Me neither. She’s like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

I laughed. “Maybe I should try throwing a bucket of water over her, and see if she melts!”

Ariadne giggled and then looked around guiltily, just in case Miss Fox happened to be following us out of the building.

“Be careful, Ariadne!” I said in a stage whisper. “She has spies everywhere!”

“Winged monkeys would be more like it!” she shrieked and ran ahead of me down the tree-lined drive. I chased after her, forgetting all about my aches and pains. Today I had a small taste of freedom.

The village was a short walk away, back through the dark archway of trees that lined the drive and down a twisting lane that led through fields of corn and barley. We followed the other girls but kept a safe distance as we joked about teachers and our fellow pupils.

We soon reached a white sign that read ‘Rookwood’ in black letters, the paint old and cracking. A little further on we came to the village green, a triangle of grass with a stone cross in the centre, a memorial to the Great War.

“The shop is near here,” I said, looking around. I tried to phrase it like a statement rather than a question.

“Over there?” said Ariadne.

Phew.

A group of schoolgirls were congregated in front of a building bearing the sign ‘Kendall and Smith – Grocers’. Boxes of fruit and vegetables lined the street in front of the shop, under a striped awning.

I smiled. It was so wonderful just to be outside the school, and even though I had very little money to spare, the possibility of eating something that wasn’t porridge or questionable meat was very exciting.

We ran over, only to realise that the girls standing in front of the shop were none other than Penny, Nadia and their faithful band of thieves: Clara Brand, Josephine Wilcox and Ethel Hadlow.

It was too late by the time I’d noticed. They had spotted us, and Penny was bearing down on me like a steam train.

She came over and shoved me, hard, and I fell back on to the grass.

“What was that for?” I asked, bewildered.

“You got Nadia a caning,” Penny sneered, her copper hair glowing like embers in the sun. “That was payback!”

I stood up stiffly and smoothed out my dress. “But she was the one who pushed me into the swimming pool!”

Penny barely flinched at this news. “Well, I expect you deserved it!” Ethel laughed, and it was not a friendly laugh.

Ariadne tugged on my arm. “Let’s go back, Scarlet,” she whispered, and I turned around, about to walk away. But the mention of my sister’s name was like a slap to my memory.

Perhaps I didn’t have to be Ivy right now. I could be Scarlet.

I turned back. Penny was mouthing something to her friends, who were all grinning like Cheshire cats. Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed a handful of Penny’s hair and tugged as hard as I could.

She shrieked and tried to bat me away, but I held my grip. “Just leave us alone, Penny!”

Nadia marched over. “You let go of her, Scarlet,” she said.

“Gladly,” I said, pulling a little harder. Penny hissed and tried her best to kick me in the shins. “As long as you go back to school and let us do what we want.”

Nadia blinked her wide eyes at me. “Penny?” she said, uncertain.

“Yes, yes, all right!”

I let go of her hair, and several strands of it came off in my hands. She darted away from me, rubbing her scalp.

“Let’s go,” she said to her friends. Her face was flushed and her eyes were like thunder clouds. “I told you she was insane!”

The girls hurried away, leaving me standing breathless in front of the shop. What had I done? I was frozen, heart pounding, strands of copper hair still clutched in my clammy hands.

I slowly turned around.

Ariadne was standing behind me on the green, her mouth hanging wide open.

“Ariadne?” She didn’t move. I walked closer and waved my hand in front of her eyes. “A-Ariadne?”

“That. Was. Brilliant!” she said.

I breathed out. “Well, at least I got rid of them.”

“I … you’re so brave, Scarlet.”

“That’s one word for it.” I winced. “Maybe ‘insane’ is another one.”

Kendall and Smith’s was bustling with activity. It seemed like half the village was in there, as well as a few groups of girls from school. It wasn’t even a very big shop – it was about the size of one of our classrooms – with heavily stacked shelves lining the walls. Kendall (or possibly Smith) stood at the counter. He looked like he was about to do some hair pulling of his own.

Locals were shouting their weekly orders at him or grumbling amongst one another about the sudden invasion of schoolgirls. Some of the girls were waving purchases in his direction. “One at a time!” he shouted. “Please form an orderly queue!”

Ariadne went straight for the jars of sweets, and I followed her. The candies in each jar sparkled with the sugar coating and my mouth watered.

“How much money do you have?” I asked Ariadne. In response she pulled out a green purse from her satchel that jangled as she moved it.

“A lot.” She grinned. “My daddy sends me an allowance.”

“Lucky you! I don’t think my Father is even speaking to me. Come to think of it, I’m not really speaking to him either.”

“Why?” asked Ariadne, suddenly looking sad.

Oops. What could I say? He sent me to this awful school, where my sister died, without even a word … and I’m currently impersonating her?

I curled my hand into a fist. “No reason,” I said. “We just don’t get on.”

“Oh,” said Ariadne. “Well, never mind. I’ll share my money with you! Now we can finally have that midnight feast.”

“Brilliant!” I replied.

On the way out of the shop, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I thought at first that it was Nadia, come back to get revenge for what I did for Penny. But this girl was taller, and older.

“I’m sorry about my sister,” she said in a soft accent, as we stepped out into the street. I must have looked bewildered, because she continued, “I saw what happened earlier. Nadia should not be friends with that girl. She’s trouble.”

I nodded. “You can say that again.”

Nadia’s sister smiled. “My name is Meena. What’s yours?”

“I— Scarlet.”

“Scarlet,” she repeated. She held out her hand, and I shook it gingerly. “I will try to get her to leave you alone. But I cannot promise anything. She longs to fit in, and since what happened with that girl Violet, Penny had an opening for a best friend. I hope you understand.”

“Meena!” called some older girls from the other side of the green, waving at her. She hurried away after them, smiling back at me as she went.

I wanted to call after her, to ask her what she meant about Violet, but I realised how foolish that would be. Scarlet would already know.

Meanwhile Ariadne had picked up a peculiar fruit from the stand and was scrutinising it intently. Once I’d grabbed her, we stopped off at the post office to send our letters, with Ariadne insisting on using her money to pay for both of our stamps. I prayed that Aunt Phoebe might sense that something was wrong from my strange letter, that she’d see it was a cry for help. That Miss Fox wouldn’t intercept it and throw it away. But I felt that my chances were slim.

That night, we shut the door to our room and wedged some dirty linen under it to make sure no light or sound got out. I didn’t know the punishment for eating sweets in the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to find out.

Ariadne lit a candle and we laid out our provisions in the semi-darkness. We had pear drops, aniseed balls, liquorice, sugared almonds, mint humbugs and chocolate fudge. It was the best picnic I’d ever seen.

“You’ll have to thank your father, Ariadne,” I said.

She sighed. “I will. I just wish I could see him. Letters and money aren’t the same, you know?”

“I know. But let’s not be sad,” I replied, sounding more cheerful than I really felt. “We have the finest midnight feast in history!”

Ariadne smiled in the flickering candlelight. “But now we have a difficult decision to make … What do we eat first?”

An hour later, we had eaten more sweets than a person should probably consume in a lifetime. I lay back against my bed frame, blissfully content. Ariadne was telling me about how she had a whole wardrobe full of dresses at home and was describing each one in painstaking detail.

“And I have this beautiful jewellery box too – it’s full of necklaces and bracelets and rings and … Oh, Scarlet, I’m sorry! I forgot about your ring …”

I blinked. I think I had been seconds away from sleep. “What?”

“Your gold ring! I’m so sorry. You must think me such a show-off, when you’ve lost your treasured possession.” She whacked herself in the head with a feather pillow, and I tried my best not to laugh.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“Have you tried looking under your bed?” she asked, suddenly. “Sometimes when I lose things, that’s where they turn up. I always think there’s a little goblin who likes to steal things and hide them under beds.”

“Oh …” I started, my tired mind struggling to form a sentence. Of course I’ve looked there, I was going to say. First place I tried. No need to investigate.

But I didn’t say it quick enough, and Ariadne was already on her hands and knees on the carpet, the candleholder in her hands.

“I think the stuffing is leaking out of your mattress,” she said.

Oh no …

I leapt in front of Ariadne. “I’ve looked there already!” I said, sounding a lot more panicked than necessary. But she just peered around me into the dark. “No no, it’s fine!”

I put my hand in my mouth and bit it, trying not to say anything. If she discovered the diary …

But a few moments later, Ariadne came out backwards, the little stub of her candle glowing brightly. “There’s a hole in your mattress,” she said plainly. “No sign of your ring, though.”

I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable questions, but they didn’t come. She just sat down, picked up the last mint humbug and sucked it thoughtfully.

“Well, it is quite uncomfortable,” was all I could think to say.

Ariadne nodded, then yawned widely. “What time is it?”

I glanced out at the night sky through our thin curtains. “I’ve no idea,” I said. “Maybe around one in the morning.”

“Well, I think I shall go to bed. Goodnight, Scarlet.”

“Goodnight, Ariadne.”

We both got into our beds. As quietly as I could, I let out a sigh of relief. The diary was safe for another day.

But how much longer could I keep it a secret?

hat Sunday, it rained. It tapped relentlessly on the stained-glass windows of the school chapel. It drummed on the roof and spilled from the gutters, and the caretaker was forced to put out buckets to collect the drips. But most of all, it prevented us from going outside.

We lay in our room all day. I read while Ariadne practised her sewing, which she already seemed to excel at and therefore didn’t need to practise. The matron came to change our sheets and do laundry, and at six o’clock we went down for dinner – what I assumed was an attempt at roast beef – where I saw Miss Fox again for the first time since the caning.

She was back in her place at one end of the dining room, her faithful cane by her side. Her expression was as acidic as usual. I nervously avoided her gaze.

I’d just disposed of my cutlery in the bowl for cleaning when the Fox appeared right behind me. I almost smashed my plate in shock.

“I do hope you’ll be on your best behaviour for lessons tomorrow, Scarlet Grey,” she said sharply.

“Of course, M-Miss,” I stuttered, edging away from her.

She stepped sideways. “I mean it. I don’t want to have to see you in my office again.”

“I understand.” I couldn’t bear another beating, nor did I have any wish to stare into the eyes of those eerie stuffed dogs for a minute longer than necessary.

“I sincerely hope so. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Had she ever not been keeping an eye on me? I shuddered at the thought, and hurried out of the dining room.

I had butterflies, moths and possibly a whole host of other insects in my stomach as I prepared for ballet the next day. I was scared I’d get everything wrong, especially since I was still rather sore. I felt calmer when I finally entered the studio. At least it wasn’t a swimming lesson.

I headed to the barre and began my warm-up. Although my muscles were less stiff, the stretches weren’t exactly comfortable. As I practised, I observed the rest of the class in the mirror. Nadia had chosen a spot as far away from me as possible. She looked my way at one point and glared, so I grimaced back at her, making her start in shock. I caught sight of my expression in the mirror – truly terrifying in the orange gaslight – and had to resist the urge to laugh. I resumed my straight face and carried on.

When we moved to centre work, I began to feel like I was getting back on form. “Your grand battement is well controlled,” said Miss Finch, pleasantly. She turned. “Nadia, that is not fifth position. I’m not even sure that’s any position!”

I risked a smile of my own at that.

To my relief, Nadia continued to leave me well alone. Perhaps I had scared her off? I hoped that the same would be true for Penny.

It was only as the class concluded and I went to unlace my shoes that I had a thought – unlike the dining hall, the ballet studio was a place that was often deserted, as well as being a place that was important to Scarlet. Miss Finch couldn’t be there all the time. If I returned at night, I could search the place uninhibited …

“Scarlet?” called Miss Finch’s voice.

I looked up. “Yes, Miss?”

“Class is over,” she said. “You can go now.”

I looked around – I’d just been sitting on the floor, my shoes half unlaced. “Oh yes. Sorry.” I hurried to take them off and put my regular shoes back on.

It seemed like my life nowadays was just one big apology.

When night came, I waited for Ariadne to fall asleep. This didn’t take long, since she was thoroughly exhausted from playing hockey. She started snoring, but I decided to wait a while longer to make sure everyone else was asleep too. I hoped that all the adults still in the school, like the matron, would go to bed fairly early.

After what felt like ages, I changed out of my nightgown and into my black leotard and skirt. Hopefully they would help me blend into the shadows. Once again I went barefoot. I didn’t want to damage my ballet shoes, and anything else would be too loud.

I took a deep breath and opened the door slowly. When I was sure that the coast was clear, I darted out as nimbly as I could in the direction of the staircase.

It was pitch black, so I had to feel for the walls. Eventually I reached a gap that I knew to be the stairs and made my way down.

The school was silent. My light steps seemed louder than hammers as they echoed on the wooden stairs. I kept close to the edge, hoping I could hide quickly if anyone came along.

At the bottom of the stairs was the corridor that led past several of the classrooms, and eventually to the door to the basement containing the studio. My heart was thumping in my chest. I didn’t even dare to imagine what the punishment would be if I were caught.

I peered in each direction, but it was useless in the dark. I could barely see my own hands. At least, I thought, that means no one can see me either. Hopefully.

I felt my way along, until my hand hit metal hinges. Standing back, I could just about make out the familiar door. I pushed the handle down gently, and the door swung inwards, making only the faintest of creaking noises. I still checked over my shoulder, though. Just in case.

When I looked back down, I noticed a warm orange glow from the bottom of the stairs. A few steps inside, I could smell the gas lamps. Strange for them to still be burning at this time of night.

I froze and fought the urge to run. What if someone was down there? I stood flat against the cold stone wall and listened. If there was a person in the studio, they were alone.

I pulled the door shut behind me and made a tentative step downwards. What was the worst that could happen? Well, the absolutely worst would be Miss Fox, of course. But that was unlikely. The ballet room was Miss Finch’s domain. Even though she was a teacher, I didn’t think she would do anything more than chastise me.

It was now or never.

I went slowly, like walking through water. When I finally reached the studio I was surprised to find it completely empty.

I waited a few seconds. I was almost convinced it was a trap, that a page of Scarlet’s diary would be on a golden plinth at the end of the room, and that when I touched it Miss Fox would leap out and shout, “Aha!”

I walked out into the centre of the floor. The cold chilled me to the bone, and the wooden floorboards felt rough on my bare feet. The flickering of the gas lamps distorted everything, bending the shadows. I headed for the piano at the far end, large and black, almost like a shadow itself.

And then I caught sight of my reflection.

It was Scarlet.

I don’t know what it was: the darkness or the strange light or the cold air. But for some reason, I wasn’t just seeing me, the twin who looked like Scarlet. I was seeing her there, trapped behind the glass, her big eyes looking out at me. Pleading.

I took a few steps forward. So did the girl in the mirror. As I got closer, I reached out my hand, and touched my fingers to the icy surface. Instantly, I was back in our childhood home, Scarlet copying my movements on the other side of the window.

“Scarlet,” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek.

I moved a little, and saw the image reflected a thousand times. I spun around, and I saw a thousand Scarlets.

I was not alone.

And I began to dance.

I danced, and I watched as the reflection, Scarlet, danced alongside me. She flipped her head as I did, she leapt into a grand jeté when I did. Her footsteps followed mine across the floor. In my head I could almost hear the extra set of echoes from her feet.

No matter what I did, she was there. She was everywhere, and the reflections spun around me until I began to feel dizzy and shut my eyes. But there she was, in my head, dancing with me for one final time, my twin.

As I went into a fouetté en tournant, I lost my balance and I stumbled …

And fell straight at the feet of Miss Finch.

“You didn’t turn your head,” she said.

blinked up at her. For a moment I stopped still as my brain whirred and then I scrambled to my feet.

“What are you doing down here?” she asked.

“I-I wanted to practise,” I said. Miss Finch’s eyes widened but I continued. “I haven’t danced in ages, and … I felt like I was getting behind the others.”