Scarlet and Ivy – The Lost Twin. Sophie Cleverly

about the ‘unfortunate circumstances’.

      Who could I turn to?

      Aunt Phoebe.

      Of course! I ran to my bag and pulled out a pen, paper and ink. I flattened out the sheet on the dressing table and hastily scrawled:

       Dear Aunt Phoebe,

       Help! This has all been a huge mistake. I don’t know what’s going on here but they want me to pretend to be Scarlet. This can’t be right. I’ve found her diary, and somehow she knew this would happen. Something terrible is going on here.

       Could you come and get me? Or tell Father? Please, this is important!

       Ivy

      I folded the letter into an envelope and wrote Aunt Phoebe’s address and URGENT in big letters.

      But then, almost immediately, my excitement began to fade. How exactly was I going to send a letter? I didn’t have a stamp, nor did I know where to find a post office. If pupils needed to send letters from the school, they probably had to give them to a teacher. And if Miss Fox got hold of it, well …

      That was a chance I couldn’t take. I had to trust Scarlet’s words. They were all I had left.

      I forced myself to change into her uniform. The fabric was scratchy and didn’t smell like her at all. I looked in the mirror, but something was wrong … I loosened the tie, tugged on the hem of the dress and pulled the stockings up unevenly – there, not too neat.

      Once I was dressed, I unpacked my few possessions before remaking Scarlet’s – my – bed, and finally collapsed on it, exhausted. But as my eyelids began to drift shut, I noticed a shadow fall across the room.

      “Hello,” said the shadow.

      I looked up. The girl barely filled the doorway. She was small and so mousy that she looked like she might beg for cheese at any moment.

      I was about to offer an equally timid “hello” in reply, but then I remembered. I had to be Scarlet now …

      “Hello!” I said, jumping up from the bed and forcing a cheery smile on to my face.

      The mousy girl took a small step backwards. “Um, good afternoon. MynameisAriadneI’mnew.”

      “Sorry?”

      The girl inhaled a long, deep breath. “My name is Ariadne. Ariadne Elizabeth Gwendolyn Flitworth.”

      “Oh … um, sorry,” I said, wincing.

      “It’s okay, I’m used to it,” Ariadne sighed. She held out a small hand, nails bitten to extinction.

      I looked at it for a second, and then shook it with nervous enthusiasm. “My name is Iv— Scarlet. Nice to meet you.” Oh dear, I thought, as I unhooked my hand from hers. I’m not very good at this.

      Ariadne stooped to pick up her luggage, a little convoy of suitcases trailing after her. I watched her pick up each one and gingerly lift it over to her side of the room. I didn’t think to offer any help. It seemed like some kind of strange ritual.

      “Are you new as well?” Ariadne suddenly asked.

      “Me? Oh no,” I replied, my mind racing. “I was here last year.”

      Ariadne looked around the bare room curiously, so I babbled on.

      “Well, I was quite ill for a while. Some kind of flu, they said. Had to take all my things back home. They, erm, didn’t want everyone else to catch it.”

      “Oh, of course,” said Ariadne, tucking strands of mousy hair behind her ears as she shuffled back and forth. “My father decided to send me here, because he had to go away on important business.” She didn’t say this in a proud or boastful way – more like repeating something she had heard many times. She finished laying out her suitcases and turned to face me, blowing a stray hair out of her face. “Um, I don’t suppose you could show me where the lavatories are?”

      Oh good grief. I could hardly say that I had forgotten where the lavatories were. I hadn’t even looked at the map yet and I couldn’t remember seeing any signs on my way through the school either, but surely there would be some on this floor.

      Ariadne was still staring at me so I quickly said, “Of course, they’re just … down here,” and motioned for her to go out into the corridor. As I followed, I glanced back at the bed, checking that the diary was fully concealed in my pillowcase.

      Classes must have finished for the day as uniformed girls were milling about in the corridor. As I walked along, Ariadne trailing behind me, the whispers started. There were sideways glances and staring eyes and hands over mouths.

      Oh, Scarlet, I thought. What have you been up to here?

      The gauntlet seemed to stretch forever. I quickened my pace, and I heard Ariadne’s rushing footsteps as she tried to keep up.

      Finally, I came to a door marked ‘Lavatories and Bathrooms’. “In here,” I said to Ariadne, holding the door open. Then I ducked in behind her, and shut the world out.

      Ariadne walked into a stall and pulled the door closed. I could still hear the commotion from outside, but it was muffled as if it were far away. I leant against the wall, trying to conceal my panic.

      The lavatories were cold, with giant windows of dappled glass that let in weak light. The walls were a horrible mint green, and the paint was flaking with damp. But it was still luxury compared to Aunt Phoebe’s outdoor privy and tin bath.

      I went over to the sinks and wrenched at a tap, hoping to rinse some of the embarrassment off my face. At first there was nothing, then a tiny dribble. I wrenched harder, and a torrent of water shot out, splashing my dress.

      Brilliant. Just brilliant.

      “Scarlet?” the sound of Ariadne’s voice drifted over the wooden door.

      I was concentrating on wringing out my uniform and almost didn’t reply. “Ah – yes?”

      “What were those girls staring at?”

      I tried to imagine what Scarlet could have done to elicit such a reaction, but it could have been anything. Even her best behaviour was probably too outrageous for this school.

      Before I had a chance to answer I heard the lavatory flush and the bolt of the door slide back. Ariadne appeared at the sink next to me and began washing her hands.

      “Do you think they were staring at me?” she said, looking flustered. “It’s because I’m new, isn’t it? They probably think I’m strange, or ugly, or dull, or … or … all of those things!” She sunk down onto the floor in a heap, her dress billowing out over her legs.

      I almost laughed with relief. “Actually I think they were probably staring at me. Because … because I was away for so long. They probably thought I ran away to join the circus.”

      “Are you sure?” she said, blinking up at me.

      I wasn’t sure of anything. “Absolutely. They probably didn’t even notice you were there.”

      I suddenly realised that what I had said might have been a little insulting. But Ariadne was standing up, a quivering smile spreading across her face.

      “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She looked at me expectantly, as if to say ‘what next?’.

      I didn’t want to go back into the corridor again, but we couldn’t stay in the lavatories forever. So I took a deep breath and walked out. The crowds had thinned a little, but heads still turned to look at us as we passed. I sped up again, hoping that I wouldn’t lose Ariadne in the throng.

      When we got back to room thirteen I breathed a sigh of relief and retreated to my bed. I felt for the reassuring lump of the diary inside the pillowcase. I would have to hide it back inside the mattress as