And to make things worse, we weren’t the first to get back – we had been beaten by Cassandra’s group.
“Good job, Cassie,” Elsie had said cheerfully as she ran over to her, obviously relishing the chance to get away from us.
“She probably cheated,” Scarlet whispered.
Phyllis congratulated us on ticking off our whole list, though I felt a little guilty about the tower.
When everyone else had returned, in various states of muddiness and exhaustion, Mrs Knight ordered us all to go and get changed into clean clothes and then head down to the restaurant for lunch. Apparently the hotel had prepared everyone sandwiches. My mouth watered at the thought.
But when we’d all changed and walked back downstairs, we found Mrs Rudge hastily shutting the doors of the restaurant.
“The restaurant is closed,” she said hurriedly.
“But Mrs Knight said there would be sandwiches,” Scarlet told her, looking distraught. I knew how she felt. “What’s changed?”
“Erm …” Mrs Rudge leant back against the door. “One of the staff has suddenly fallen ill. It’s best if nobody goes in for the time being. You can eat the sandwiches outside,” she said. “I’ll bring them to you. Lovely weather today. Won’t that be nice?”
It wasn’t that lovely. In fact, it was muggy and occasionally drizzly, and I felt I’d had enough of the outdoors. But I was ravenous by that point, and decided I didn’t mind where we went as long as it involved food.
As we traipsed back outside, Ariadne muttered: “Well, that was strange.”
“Indeed,” said Scarlet. “She’s an odd one, that woman.”
I agreed. There was a lot odd about this place. But for the moment, I was still just relieved that it wasn’t Rookwood.
Chapter Twelve
SCARLET
rs Rudge may have been acting weirdly, but Mr Rudge was even weirder. We hadn’t seen him since the first night, when he’d been spectacularly grumpy, but that evening he was prowling around the hotel like some sort of big cat. He kept glaring at everyone, eyeing us with suspicion.
He stopped me in the corridor when I was heading for the lavatories. “Up to mischief, are we?” he said.
“No more than usual,” I replied, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
He was frowning at the wall, his grey brows knitted, and I noticed that the gold cross seemed to have disappeared again. “Mark my words, letting children come here was a bad idea. Bound to be up to something.”
“Who are you talking to?” I called after him as he shuffled away, but there was no reply.
Rose still seemed a little nervous after the events of the day. She’d been coming out of her shell recently, but now she’d gone back to being silent again. If I talked to her she would smile, and sometimes even mime a response, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say anything. She kept nervously patting her jumper as if checking that her necklace was still there – I guessed because she was worried that Cassandra was going to storm in and snatch it off her, but unless Cassandra could turn invisible, she hadn’t been anywhere near Rose since that morning.
The other thing that was weird was that Anna Santos had turned up for dinner claiming that someone had been through her things too, and maybe those of the other girls sharing her room. Everything had looked “ruffled”, she said. Mrs Knight just blamed their messy packing.
The dinner was marvellous: roast chicken with potatoes and peas, swimming in gravy. The Shady Pines Hotel had its problems, but the cooking wasn’t one of them. I was beginning to enjoy myself.
That night I slept better, feeling more accustomed to the strange noises and the draughty fireplace. Or at least, I was sleeping better until a clanging alarm bell began to ring, making me shoot bolt upright.
I thought for one horrible moment that I was back at Rookwood again, that the morning bell was going off and I was going to have to go to lessons. But as my bleary eyes got used to the darkness, I remembered where I was. I was in the hotel by the lake, and someone was ringing the fire bell.
I shook Ivy, but she was already awake, and she grabbed my hand in the dark. We hopped out of bed to see that Ariadne had managed to light one of her many candles. Rose had her hands over her ears. I remembered the fire in the library, the billowing smoke and the flames licking through the paper, and felt sudden fear rush through me.
“Where do we go?” Ariadne asked, panicked.
“Outside!” I said, quickly slipping my shoes on without bothering to do up the laces. That was all I could think of. If there was a fire, we needed to get out.
I cracked open the door cautiously, but no smoke poured in. Instead there was just a flurry of other girls bustling out of doors in their nightgowns. We broke out into the stream and followed it down the stairs, which resounded with footsteps.
“Keep going!” I heard Mrs Knight’s voice shout from somewhere behind us. She sounded tired. “Everyone out, please! Hurry! No shoving!”
I felt reassured, surrounded by everyone else, with Ivy’s hand in mine, but I still expected to see smoke at every corner. Yet there was none. Where was the fire? In the kitchens? In a fireplace? Had someone dropped a candle? The bell carried on ringing, shrill and angry.
We finally reached the reception area and poured out into the cold night air, under a circle of lamplight. Relief washed over me. We were safe. Ivy leant against my shoulder, and I could feel the goosebumps on her arms.
Moments later, Mrs Knight and Miss Bowler appeared in the doorway, having herded everyone outside. Mrs Knight was wearing a blue dressing gown with flowers on it, while Miss Bowler (to my amusement) was wearing a sort of frilly pink nightdress. I had never seen anything more unlikely.
“Line up!” she bellowed over the noise of the ringing bell, acting like we were back at school – although the nightdress definitely took away from the effect. “Everyone STAY CALM!”
I think that made all of us jump, which didn’t help.
And then, as we were sleepily shuffling into a line, the bell stopped. Suddenly the valley was silent again.
“Has the fire gone out?” Ivy asked anxiously.
“That or it’s got to whoever was ringing the bell …” I said. I didn’t really want to think about that.
Now all of us from Rookwood were lined up, I could see that a bunch of the other guests were gathered on the opposite side of the porch. Phyllis was there, with a group of other women. There was a man wearing a very ugly green suit (why was he dressed at this time of night?) and furtively smoking a cigar. An elegant woman in a wheelchair with a silk nightgown glared at him and moved herself out of the way. I wondered if his cigars had been responsible for the fire.
“I can’t see any smoke,” said Ariadne, looking up at the building. “Perhaps it was only a small one.” Rose was peering around frantically, but if she was looking for smoke, she didn’t spot it either.
“Where’s—” Ivy started, but she was interrupted by Mr and Mrs Rudge suddenly stepping outside.
“Nobody panic,” Mrs Rudge said. “Everything is all right. We were merely having a safety exercise. We …”
We all looked at each other, as if to say: Really? A safety exercise? In the middle of the night? It didn’t seem likely.
“A safety exercise?” the green-suited man shouted, brandishing the cigar. “It’s one in the morning, madam! What were you thinking?”
Mr Rudge stepped up to him. “Don’t you talk that way to my wife! I’ll have you know it’s a very important procedure. We have to make sure everyone can evacuate on time. At night. Mmhmm. When it’s dark.”
“Pah,” said the man, shaking his head. “Ridiculous. Ridiculous. I’ve a good mind to ask for my money back.”
“Well,” Mr Rudge sneered at him, “I can tell you now, you won’t be getting it!”
“Gentlemen, please,” Mrs Knight called, trotting over to them. “Let’s calm down.” I think she thought they were about to punch each other, which I’d rather been looking forwar
d to. She turned to Mr Rudge. “Are you saying it’s safe to go inside? I was about to take a register …”
Mr Rudge didn’t take his eyes off the green-suited man, but instead just waved a hand in the direction of the building. “Yes, yes, it’s fine.”
Mrs Rudge evidently decided this was a good time to take over. “Well done on getting outside, everyone. Time to go back in. We don’t want any of you to freeze!”
“All right, then,” said Mrs Knight, though she looked as puzzled as I felt.
I rubbed my head. I still felt like I wasn’t quite awake, and that this was all some sort of strange dream. Probably from eating real food instead of just stew. My body wasn’t used to it.
“Really?” said Ivy as we traipsed inside, rubbing our arms to get some warmth back. “Couldn’t they have at least done that during the day?”
“That would make too much sense,” I said sarcastically. So far, very little of what went on at this hotel made sense.
The next morning, I felt myself having to fight to wake up: like I was swimming against a current that tried to drag me down. But I eventually surfaced, blinked in the bright sunlight, and noticed something.
My suitcase had moved.
I climbed out of bed, a good deal more sluggishly than I had done in the night, and peered down at it.
I knew it had moved, because I’d tossed it down haphazardly when I was getting ready for bed, and someone had put it back neatly with the clasps shut.
“Ivy?” I said, turning to look at my twin, who was half buried in sheets. “Did you tidy my suitcase?”
“Mm … no?” came the muffled reply.
Ariadne wandered over. “I think someone’s touched mine and Rose’s suitcases too,” she said, pointing at their side of the room, where Rose was staring into her luggage. “They look … how was it Anna put it? ‘Ruffled.’” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d barely notice it, but they knocked one of the candles out, and the lens cap from my camera was under the bed, and I know I didn’t leave it there.”
“Did they take anything?” I knelt down and flipped through my belongings, but nothing seemed to be missing.
“I don’t think so,” said Ariadne. “Unless they took some sweets or candles, because I’m not certain how many of those there were …”
Ivy rolled over. “Someone’s going through people’s things?” she mumbled. “In the night?”
I snapped my fingers. “The fire alarm! It wasn’t a safety exercise or whatever nonsense the Rudges came out with. It was a distraction. For the thief.”
“The funny thing is,” Ariadne pointed out, “that they don’t actually seem to be a thief. The only thing that’s been taken is Cassandra Clarkson’s necklace, and she might just have lost that.”
I remembered the gold cross appearing in the night and Mrs Rudge’s horrified expression, and I suddenly felt a chill. Could it be something more sinister than just someone out to steal things?
We went for breakfast, passing several other yawning girls on the way down the staircase. Nobody had enjoyed the rude awakening.
As I queued up to get a boiled egg from the counter, I heard the serving girls muttering to one another as they worked. I leant in so I could hear them better.
“… all that commotion yesterday over a candlestick,” the smaller one said, wiping her hands on her apron. “It was just a candlestick. I put it out on the table because I thought it looked pretty. I didn’t know Mrs Rudge was going to go spare.”
The larger one nodded. “These city folk are madder than a box of frogs. It looked ordinary to me. Pr’haps a bit old. Maybe it was pricey, but still. She didn’t have to shut the dining room.”
As soon as they noticed me standing there, the conversation came to an abrupt halt, and I was handed an egg.
I went back to our table and told the others what I’d just heard. Ivy frowned, Ariadne looked puzzled and Rose seemed uninterested – probably because she was getting a proper breakfast for what might be the first time ever. She seemed to be enjoying her toast immensely.
“So we couldn’t have our sandwiches inside because someone put a candlestick out?” Ivy wrinkled her nose. “That’s ridiculous.”
Ariadne was staring into the distance as she often did when she was thinking. “So we have Mrs Rudge getting horribly frightened by a cross and perhaps a candlestick, and people’s possessions moving in the night.”
I thought about it. “And I heard strange noises, and that draught of cold air from the fireplace … You don’t think …” I took a deep breath. It was probably crazy, but … “You don’t think that perhaps … this hotel is haunted?”
Chapter Thirteen
IVY
thought Scarlet was perhaps taking things a bit far. Maybe there were such things as ghosts, and the hotel certainly was strange – but why would it be haunted? I said as much to my twin, and she simply shrugged.
“Perhaps not. But you’ve got to admit it’s all weird,” she said. And it was true.
We’d only just finished breakfast when I saw Elsie heading towards us from the other side of the room.
“Here comes trouble,” I said.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” muttered Scarlet. “Why can’t she leave us alone?”
When Elsie reached us she leant over, putting her hands on the tablecloth. “Some of the girls have been telling me that someone has been going through their things. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” She stared pointedly at Rose, who leant back in her chair about as far as she could.
“No,” said Scarlet. “Because someone went through our things as well.”
Elsie evidently hadn’t expected that development, because she stood up straight again. “Oh?”
“She’s telling the truth,” I added. “And Rose has been with us the whole time.” Ariadne nodded in agreement, taking Rose’s hand.
“Hmmph,” was all the prefect said, before scuttling to the next table to interrogate the girls there.
“I’m going to kill her if she accuses Rose one more time,” Scarlet said.
I gave my twin a look. She said terrible things sometimes. “I wouldn’t do that,” I cautioned. “I bet Elsie would haunt you out of sheer pig-headedness.”
That morning, we were meant to go out into the courtyard to meet again, but the drizzle had turned to heavier rain, and Miss Bowler decided to tell us the day’s activity in the reception area instead. She had already ordered us at lunch to put on our oldest clothes that we wouldn’t mind getting ruined.
“Right!” she said, as we crowded round her. “Time for a PROPER adventure today, girls! None of this pansy looking at landmarks!”
My heart sank. Anything Miss Bowler thought was great was bound to be terrible.
“Today we’ll be going caving!” she announced – to very little reaction.
“What’s that?” said Anna, in her usual slightly baffled tone of voice. “Just going in caves?”
“Quiet, Santos!” Miss Bowler boomed. “Yes, we’re going in the caves. For some proper exploring. Now …” she dragged a large chest into view and then banged on the lid. “I’ve brought some safety equipment. Very important.”
She opened the chest up with a creak, and as we craned our necks to peer in, I saw that it was full of helmets. They looked old, most of them a bluish-grey colour but some of them army green, all battered and dented and splattered with dirt.
“Right! Line up! Everyone get a helmet!” She picked up one of her own from a nearby chair – hers had a lamp on the front, I noticed, and looked considerably better quality.
Queuing for the helmets reminded me of the ice skating in winter – the ice skates certainly hadn’t been wonderful either, and that “fun activity” hadn’t gone well. I felt a horrible sense of foreboding. It wasn’t made any better by the fact that the helmet Miss Bowler handed me appeared to have a crack in it, as if someone had whacked it with a rock.
Scarlet fared a little better, with a helmet that at least did
n’t look damaged even though it wasn’t clean. Ariadne’s was far too big and wobbled, while Rose’s chin strap was too tight and she had to leave it undone.
“Where does Miss Bowler get these things?” I whispered to Ariadne, who just shrugged. I imagined her rifling through rubbish tips, just looking for awful sports equipment that she could force on unsuspecting pupils.
Once everyone was wearing a helmet, Miss Bowler handed out a few torches, then stood up tall and assessed us all. “Let’s head out, then, you lot!” she said, looking unusually enthusiastic.
“Is Mrs Knight coming?” Ariadne asked.
“Not today,” said Miss Bowler. “She’s planning the rest of the week for you. Come on, then, no more questions – let’s get going!”
We trekked through the forest once again, and soon we were at the caves that we’d seen the day before. We saw the same wide, dark mouths in the cliff face, but there was a difference – this time, there was a man with an axe.
Fortunately he was in fact only chopping firewood with it. He looked up as we approached, axe paused in mid-swing. “Whoa there,” he called out in a gruff local accent. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
The man was fairly old, with grey hair and a bushy moustache, and he was dressed like a farmer. His face looked weathered, as if years of sun and rain and snow had found their way into the cracks. He also didn’t look very pleased to see us.
Miss Bowler strode up to him. “We’ve come to see the caves, my good man! These are my students.” She gestured at us.
His frown didn’t shift. “Haven’t seen you around before.” He sighed. “You’ll be from the hotel, then, I take it?”
“Yes, indeed,” Miss Bowler said, and I detected a flicker of annoyance in the man’s face.
“Right, right …” He dropped the axe into the mud. “But you’re interested in the surroundings? In local history?”
“Of course! Aren’t we, girls?” She looked at us sharply, implying that there was a right answer to this question.
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