The Whispers in the Walls. Sophie Cleverly

      For months I had believed my sister was gone forever. And now she sat beside me, as we rode in a motor car back to a place neither of us wanted to set foot in, and I had to remind myself that she was real. I kept reaching out and taking hold of her arm for reassurance.

      Father’s car was comfortable but smelled strongly of pipe tobacco – he insisted on smoking all the way there. He attempted conversation, awkwardly. “How did you get on with your lessons, Ivy? How’s your ballet coming along?” As if that was all there was to talk about.

      I felt myself getting more and more nervous the nearer we got to Rookwood. I’d only been gone a few days, but knowing what had really happened made the place even more intimidating and foreboding than it had been before. I had to tell myself it was all right – I had Scarlet, I had Ariadne, and Miss Finch was on our side. Miss Fox was gone and she wasn’t coming back.

      The car chugged through the school gates, the stone rooks on the pillars poised to grasp us with their talons. Scarlet squeezed my hand tightly, but when I looked up at her, her expression was as determined as ever. The tall trees bent over us, their crisp leaves peeling away in the late-autumn wind.

      When we came to a stop in front of the building, Scarlet pulled away from me and got out of the car without a word. I leant out and watched as she climbed the steps with her suitcase. I didn’t know if she would ever forgive Father for this.

      I stayed in the car. If this was my one chance to speak to Father, I had to take it. “Do we have to do this? Do you have to just drive away and leave us here?”

      He craned his neck to look at me as I perched on the rear leather seat. “We’ve been through this, Ivy.”

      “I know, but there has to be another way. What if we went to stay with Aunt Phoebe? She must be lonely.”

      Father got out and pulled open my door with a thunk. Then he crouched down at my feet, looking up at me, a gesture that made me feel like I was a little girl again. “I know you’re worried about things being as bad as they were before.” He looked up at Scarlet, who was staring pointedly at the stonework above the entrance. “But it’s all in the past now. We have to move forward. The headmaster, Mr …”

      “Bartholomew.”

      “Bartholomew, that’s it. He reassured me and your stepmother that everything will be in order; that it’s all been dealt with. You need an education and this is the best place for it. Your sister can pout all she wants, but one day she’ll realise that we did the right thing.”

      I looked down at him, kneeling there on the gravel, greying streaks in his dark hair and wrinkles in his suit. The little girl in me wanted to give him a hug, tell him how much I’d missed him. But I wasn’t that girl any more.

      So instead I just said: “You’re wrong.”

      I picked up my suitcase and pushed past him. I heard his gasp of shock, but I wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.

      “I love you, girls,” he called out from behind me.

      I didn’t look back. I climbed the stone steps and took Scarlet’s hand. She pulled me through the entrance, and we left Father far behind.

      “HOW DARE HE?” Scarlet yelled, as the door shut behind us. “How dare he act like this is all for the best?”

      Rookwood’s worried secretary looked up and shushed her, though it was one of the most timid shushes I’d ever heard.

      My twin didn’t pay even the slightest bit of attention. “That old hypocrite! He lets the boys run around doing whatever they like, but we get left here to rot. After everything!” She kicked the wall. “This is so unfair!”

      “Ahem …”

      I looked round. It was Mrs Knight, the head of Richmond house, standing on the other side of the hall. “Kindly leave the wall alone, Miss Grey. And perhaps save all of our ears by keeping your voice down?”

      “Sorry, Miss,” I said. Scarlet just frowned.

      “We’ve been expecting you, girls – Mr Bartholomew has been making arrangements. I’m to take you to his office now.” She gave me a smile, but it was an uncertain one. “Miss Carver will arrange for someone to take your suitcases to your room.” She indicated the secretary, who was regarding Scarlet warily.

      I shot my twin a look to see if she’d caught that – were we sharing a room? She raised her eyebrows at me.

      “This way,” said Mrs Knight, as we deposited our suitcases by the front desk. It was Sunday morning, so the classrooms she led us past were empty, silent as if they were sleeping. In a low voice, she added, “I hope you can put your ordeal behind you, Scarlet, and have a fresh start. We were all so horrified to learn what Miss Fox had done.” Scarlet made a face, but she didn’t reply.

      My heart pounded as we neared Miss Fox’s office, and I saw to my surprise that its door was wide open. There were men inside in suits, looking through her files. The hideous stuffed dogs remained, glassy-eyed and grotesque.

      Thank goodness Miss Fox was gone. I hoped Father was right, and that Mr Bartholomew would make everything better for us.

      Before I had time to think more about it, we’d come to another heavy wooden door with ‘HEADMASTER’ in stern capitals on the nameplate.

      Mrs Knight knocked gingerly. Her knock was answered with coughing, and a rasping “come in”. She waved us inside, and I hoped she’d follow, but instead she just quickly pulled the door closed behind us.

      This office was big. Twice the size of Miss Fox’s. A huge stone fireplace in one corner sheltered a roaring fire, and dark furniture loomed in front of wood-panelled walls. There were no windows.

      An oak desk took up almost all of the floor space, and behind it was a tall leather-backed chair with a man sitting in it, silver-haired and hunched over. A quivering hand pulled a pocket watch on a chain out of his jacket. “You’re late,” he said, and his voice rattled like bones.

      Scarlet and I looked at each other in horror.

      He gestured for us to sit down on two chairs in front of the desk, and we did so immediately.

      He spoke slowly without really looking at us, like he was considering each word. I watched his eyes, sunken and hollow. “Girls, welcome back to Rookwood. I understand there have been … troubling times. But I can assure you that these are now over.”

      Then he was silent. I wondered if I should say something. “Thank you, sir?” I whispered.

      Almost to himself, he continued, “I always questioned whether I was right to leave a woman in charge of my school. Now I know the answer to that.”

      I gripped Scarlet’s hand under the desk, just in case she was going to start shouting at him. But she remained tight-lipped.

      “You must understand, the school is the thing. Teachers and pupils come and go, but the school remains. That is what matters.”

      We both nodded. Where was he going with this?

      “Rookwood needs its reputation intact in order to survive. We are nothing but the image we project to the world.”

      Evidently Scarlet had had enough of biting her tongue. “Is there a point to all this, sir?”

      Mr Bartholomew unfurled in his chair. I realised as he drew himself up that he was a very large man indeed. His eyes narrowed at my twin. “I don’t remember asking you a question, Miss Grey.”

      I shrank back, but Scarlet was undeterred. “You didn’t, sir.”

      “THEN WHY ARE YOU TALKING?” he roared.

      Scarlet blinked. I felt like my heart had stopped in my chest.

      And then the headmaster folded back again, coughing.

      When he