The Curse in the Candlelight. Sophie Cleverly

shared a look with my twin. “I’m not so sure,” I said warily.

      He tapped his fingers. “It’s only school, girls. They let you out sometimes.” He sighed as he stared out at the village. “Thirteen years old, eh? Where does the time go?”

      “We’re fourteen, Father,” Scarlet said.

      He just blinked. “Fourteen, really? Hmm.”

      My twin rolled her eyes. I didn’t blame her. Father seemed to be paying less attention to our lives than ever. We were lucky, I supposed – lucky to have Rookwood to go to; who’d have thought I’d be saying that? It wasn’t as though we had a choice anyway – our stepmother didn’t want us there, and she didn’t want us living with our aunts either (not that they really had the room). I just had to hope that we could stay out of trouble for as long as possible. If Rookwood found any reason to expel us, well … where would we go?

      The journey passed in a blur of silver skies, green leaves and grey tarmac. The route was familiar to me now, but I still remembered how strange it felt that first time, with Miss Fox and her driver. The thought made me take Scarlet’s hand and squeeze it tight.

      She was writing in her diary again – a new paper journal with a green jacket that she’d found at school. Her initials, SG, were written proudly on the cover. She also seemed to have acquired a new fountain pen, which was unusual since we normally used pens you had to dip in ink. I decided it was better not to ask where she had got it from.

      “Don’t jog me,” she teased, poking me in the leg. “It’s hard enough to write in this bumpy old thing as it is.”

      “It’s always good to see you writing in there,” I said.

      “Well,” my twin replied. “You never know when a diary might come in handy …”

       Chapter Three

       SCARLET

      ather’s motor car pulled up on the gravel drive of Rookwood in the shadow of the enormous building, behind a queue of others and a bus. Everywhere girls were leaping out, lugging suitcases, waving to their parents. There were first years crying, clinging to mothers. But most of the older girls seemed eager to get going.

      As we climbed out with our bags, I saw a familiar car arriving behind us. It came so close to ours that it almost hit the bumper, and then a familiar man who looked like a bespectacled owl got out. “Sorry!” he said.

      I dropped my bag on the floor and ran over to the car, just as the door swung open and our best friend appeared behind the man. “ARIADNE!” I yelled, and jumped on her.

      “Oof!” she said. “Steady on, Scarlet.”

      I stepped back and grinned. “Never!”

      Ivy came up beside me and gave Ariadne a hug. “We missed you so much.”

      “Good morning, Sally and Irene,” Ariadne’s father said, tipping his hat at us.

      “Morning, Mr Flitworth,” I replied. There was no point in correcting him now. It was what he’d always called us. We’d have to be Sally and Irene forever.

      We said goodbye to Father, while Ariadne said goodbye to hers. I could hear him giving her a long lecture about safety and the importance of staying away from windows and potentially poisoned food. I half wished our father cared so much. Instead he’d just said, “Off you go then, see you soon,” and waved us towards the front entrance.

      Ivy and I picked up some of Ariadne’s suitcases (she had a little convoy of them, as usual) and together we headed inside for the first day of our new year at Rookwood.

      Mrs Knight was waiting in the foyer, greeting everyone. She was the head of our house – Richmond – and as of last year had become the headmistress as well, sort of by default. She was thankfully a lot less murderous than previous occupants of the position, and had a tendency towards being annoyingly cheerful.

      “Welcome, welcome!” she was saying. “Everyone head to the hall, please! Carry your bags with you!”

      I looked around the foyer, taking in the faces: there were some familiar ones – Nadia and Meena standing beside their very expensive luggage, even … ugh, our worst enemy, Penny, was there, chatting to some of her gang. But there were plenty of unfamiliar ones too. New girls. Mostly they looked like first years, with pristine uniforms. But there were some older girls among them, as well. Mrs Knight’s efforts to restore the school’s reputation had clearly had an effect.

      We headed for the hall where the noise was deafening. Everyone was talking at once, greeting friends who they hadn’t seen all summer. We managed to find a seat, just.

      “I got you these!” Ariadne said. She pulled one of her suitcases open a crack and took out two envelopes, then handed one to each of us. I tore mine open eagerly.

      It was a birthday card showing a girl striding happily along while she held hands with a cat, a dog and a bird. It said, May you have a string of smiles for your birthday. I laughed. “Thanks, Ariadne.”

      Ivy grinned, and waved hers at me. It was completely identical.

      I tucked mine away in my bag. At least our stepmother couldn’t take these from us.

      When everyone had filtered into the hall, the sound of chatter was broken by an ear-splitting whistle from the stage. The talking died away as all of the girls stared up at the swimming instructor and games teacher, Miss Bowler. She had the loudest voice in probably the entire world; she also seemed to have been given the job of ordering everyone about. “SIT DOWN, ALL OF YOU!” she boomed.

      When we had all done as she said, she stepped aside, leaving Mrs Knight in full view.

      “Welcome, girls!” she said, her expression as bright and cheery as ever. “Welcome to a brand-new year at Rookwood! We will be having a completely fresh start. I’m sure if we all work together, this will be the best year yet.”

      She did a sort of fist-pump, clearly expecting people to cheer. Nobody did. Except Ariadne.

      “First things first,” she shuffled all of the papers in front of her. “I want to announce that as I am officially the headmistress of the school, I am stepping down as the head of Richmond House. Your new house mistress will be Madame Zelda.”

      Well, that was an odd choice, considering that Madame Zelda hadn’t been at the school very long and she wasn’t exactly normal. Everyone looked around to see the silver-haired ballet teacher, who was tapping her long fingernails against her arm and smiling. She gave a small nod, and a flurry of whispers began.

      “So now,” Mrs Knight continued, “the first thing we need to do is get everyone lined up in alphabetical order in their house groups, then your teachers will give out room assignments and make sure that everyone knows where they’re going. Then we will give out the lesson timetables, and the lists of rules and maps of the school for the new pupils.” She took a deep breath, “And then—”

      She was interrupted by the doors at the back of the hall flying open.

      “I’m sorry I’m late,” came a voice.

      Everyone turned in their seats to look.

      It was a girl, about our age, with incredibly long jet-black hair. She was dressed in Rookwood uniform, but instead of the regulation