The Whispers in the Walls (Scarlet and Ivy, Book 2)

by Sophie Cleverly

  I reached up and gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Miss. I just need to figure this out. They –” I stopped, unsure whether to confide in her, but something told me to carry on – “they think that it was me who’s been stealing things, but it wasn’t, I swear! I need to find out who did this, ghost or no ghost.”

  She smiled then, a worried smile, but her eyes shone and crinkled at the corners. “Well, I wish you the best of luck. I was beginning to consider calling a priest to exorcise the room, but if you can find out what’s going on here …”

  “I will.” It was a promise.

  We stood without saying anything for a moment. I listened. There was nothing, save for a quiet rustling in the distance and the occasional creak as the old building settled.

  Miss Jones broke the silence. “Thank you for keeping me company,” she said. “I suppose you shouldn’t really be in here at night, but then I shouldn’t, either. It was nice to meet you …”

  “Scarlet.”

  “Nice to meet you, Scarlet. I’m Catastrophe Jones.”

  I stared, not sure if I’d heard her properly. “Catastrophe? As in … an awful event?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “My mother came from China, and she had a passion for unusual English words. I usually go by Cassie instead.” She looked down at her watch, a dainty, pretty one that hung from her wrist. “Goodness, it’s late. Run along now, my dear, or you’ll get into trouble.”

  She was right. But at least I was that tiny bit closer to figuring out who was responsible for all this. I had one last question, though, as I looked at the heavy book on her desk. “Miss, how exactly were you going to hit a ghost? Don’t things pass straight through them?”

  The librarian suddenly went very pale. “I didn’t think of that,” she said.

  I had tried to stay awake to keep an eye on Scarlet, but I hadn’t managed it. And now it was breakfast time, and Scarlet was so sleepy I thought she was about to doze off in her porridge. I wanted to believe that she’d just had a restless night, but my instincts told me that she’d been off somewhere again. Stealing?

  I chastised myself for thinking that. Though I was cross with my twin for being so secretive, she had sworn to me that she wasn’t the thief. She may have been a troublemaker, but she’d not given me any reason to believe she would lie to me. At least, not since we had been reunited …

  Ariadne was watching Penny write in her prefect book. “She’s almost filled the whole book! That’s a lot of apparently suspicious behaviour,” she said.

  Ethel Hadlow nudged Penny when she saw us staring. Penny just glared and made a show of writing something down.

  “What?” I said to Ariadne. “They’re going to report us for looking at them?” But then again, it was Penny. I wasn’t exactly surprised. At least Nadia was friendly with us now. She gave us a surreptitious wave from down the table.

  Ariadne turned to Scarlet. “Have you seen anything suspicious? What with the thefts and all?”

  Scarlet frowned at her, and I wondered if she thought she was being accused again. “Possibly a ghost,” she said.

  We both went wide-eyed.

  “I’m serious,” she continued. “Well, I’m not sure if I believe it’s a ghost, but something weird is going on, anyway. I went to the library …”

  “You went to the library?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “That is beside the point. The point is that not only have some of the books gone missing, but there were footprints going into the wall. And the librarian said she’s been hearing strange noises. She seemed terrified.”

  “A ghost,” said Ariadne. “Goodness. Well, that would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? Like how they’re getting in everywhere, and why they haven’t been caught yet.”

  “It might explain a lot if ghosts were real,” Scarlet replied, nonchalantly eating another spoonful of porridge. “Which they’re not.”

  “But if they were,” Ariadne continued. “Who would it be? No one’s died here, have they?”

  Nadia stopped right behind us with her tray, the empty bowl sliding to the edge. “You don’t know about the girl who died?”

  We all shook our heads.

  She glanced quickly at Mrs Knight, who thankfully wasn’t paying attention, and leant down beside the table. “I heard that, about twenty years ago, there was some sort of accident. Something went terribly wrong, and a girl drowned.”

  I looked at my twin and saw my own horror reflected in her face. “Really?”

  Nadia shrugged. “It might just be a rumour. But apparently there’s a memorial plaque somewhere. Penny and I went looking for it, but we couldn’t find anything.”

  “P-perhaps it’s just something they make up to scare first years,” Ariadne said hopefully.

  “Who knows,” Nadia replied. “But just in case, you must watch out for the water.” She gave a wink, stood back up and walked away.

  The thought gave me goose bumps. Nadia had pushed me into the pool not long ago, and I’d almost drowned. She may have been under the impression that I was Scarlet, but still. Thank goodness she’d dropped her vendetta after finding out about Miss Fox locking my sister away in the asylum.

  “Well, that was creepy—” I started, but I could tell Ariadne’s brain was already whirring.

  “We need to look into this,” she said. “If Scarlet isn’t the thief, then we’ve got to find out who is. Even if it’s a ghost.”

  She had a point.

  “What do you mean, if I’m not the thief?” Scarlet demanded, before brightening up. “Then you’ll help me?” she said.

  “Of course,” me and Ariadne chorused, but I felt bad that I was just a moment behind.

  Throughout that day’s sermon in the chapel, all I could think about was the ghost. Or more specifically, the girl who had died. I wondered if she was buried in the little overgrown graveyard outside, if the plaque to her was one of those that peppered the walls.

  It was unlikely, though. The chapel was old, and I’d not seen a date any later than 1880 on any of the memorials.

  Perhaps Nadia had just been trying to frighten us a little. But as I sat shivering in the cold, wrapping my cardigan tighter around me, I looked at my twin sitting next to me. And I remembered what had happened to her.

  Scary things did happen at this school. Things that the teachers seemed very keen to cover up …

  We had free time that afternoon, and that meant investigating – Ariadne was nothing if not determined.

  “Can you show us what you found in the library, Scarlet?” she asked.

  Scarlet leant over to me. “Does she have to tag along?” she said in a stage whisper. I glared at her, but Ariadne didn’t seem deflated.

  We trekked over to the east wing. When we got there, Violet was sitting by herself at one of the tables. She was studying, writing things down in a jotter with books open all around her.

  “I just don’t get it,” said Ariadne. “She’s completely silent the whole time she’s in our room. I thought she’d at least be a bit mean to me. I don’t think she even talks to her old friends.”

  It was strange, that was certain. Was Violet’s withdrawn manner because of whatever had happened to her? And if so, was Scarlet equally broken? I looked at my twin, but her expression gave nothing away. She just seemed like the same old Scarlet.

  “Forget Violet,” she said. “Let’s find Miss Jones.”

  Ariadne and I followed Scarlet through the stacks. It was fairly busy at this time of day, many bustling girls with arms full of books, chatting in hushed voices.

  We found the librarian staring at one of the bookshelves.

  “Um, Miss?” asked Ariadne.

  Miss Jones turned around, fiddling with her name tag. “Hmm?”

  “What are you looking at?” asked Scarlet.

  The librarian pointed at the dusty shelves. “There’s something not right here,” she said. “I haven’t got round to cataloguing this bit yet, but I’m su
re these books are … different.”

  “Different how?” I asked, peering around her.

  “The spines don’t look right. And these titles …” She shook her head, as if trying and failing to dislodge the right information. “Sorry, girls. Did you want to speak to me? And goodness – don’t you two look alike!”

  “We came about the G-H-O-S-T,” Ariadne spelt out.

  Miss Jones went pale. “Oh yes. I’m afraid there’s nothing else to report. But you’re welcome to have a look around, if you like. I’ll be at the desk.” She scuttled away, leaving us looking confused.

  “The footprints have gone,” Scarlet pointed out, after a moment of silence.

  Ariadne bent down and examined the bottom of the shelf. She touched an inquisitive finger to the floor. “There’s water here,” she said, crinkling her nose.

  Water. Like the girl who drowned.

  I didn’t say that aloud. It seemed silly.

  “Maybe the caretaker mopped the floor. Or the culprit tried to get rid of the prints,” my twin suggested.

  I nodded. But my mind wouldn’t stop picturing the ghost, gliding through the air in wet rags, hair streaming out behind her, as though she was trapped by weeds underwater.

  I turned round, and Violet was right in front of me.

  “Stay away,” she hissed.

  I nearly screamed, but I managed to stop myself. Violet may not have been a ghost, but she had appeared suddenly and her eyes were wild. Not to mention that they were the first words I’d ever heard her speak.

  “Stay away from what?” asked my twin, stepping between us.

  Violet’s eyes darted back and forth and she appeared disgusted that she had another Grey to deal with. “From here,” she hissed again. “Just stop whatever you’re doing. Stop it.”

  Before Scarlet could open her mouth to argue, Violet had already turned and stalked away.

  “She’s the ghost!” said Ariadne.

  “She’s the thief!” I slapped my palm against my forehead. “Of course! We were getting close to catching her, so now she’s making threats. Why else would she suddenly remember how to talk just to tell us to stay away?”

  My twin looked pensive. “That makes sense, I suppose. But how can we prove it? Everyone knows you and Violet hate each other, I don’t think accusing her is going to get you very far.”

  She had a point. But I had an idea.

  “Just you wait,” I said.

  That night, I considered telling Ivy that I was going to slip out of the room and investigate again. I wanted to catch Violet prowling around after lights out and confirm that she was behind the spate of thefts. But I knew my twin would just try to talk me out of it, say that I was going to get myself in more trouble. And I’d only just managed to get her to start speaking to me again … it was best to keep this latest excursion a secret for now.

  I can handle trouble, I thought to myself. Trouble is practically my middle name.

  As I waited, I watched the frost climbing the glass, listening to Ivy’s gentle snoring, and feeling the crisp bed sheets against my skin. I was so tired, perhaps I should just stay in bed … but then there was a harsh, clanking noise from the walls, and I jumped right up.

  It was just the heating pipes, I knew that. That was all it was.

  I took a deep breath, and walked out of room thirteen and into the darkness.

  I moved along the corridor until I came to room twenty-four, where Ariadne and Violet would be sleeping. I supposed I could have asked Ariadne to spy on Violet, but I didn’t quite trust her yet. And besides, Ivy had told me that Ariadne usually slept like a log – or maybe even a whole tree.

  Their dorm was at the end of a corridor, just around the corner from the lavatories. So I sat down, hopefully out of sight, and I watched.

  After about ten minutes, I began to wonder if it was a stupid idea. I could sit out in the corridor all night and freeze to death.

  After half an hour, and the loss of sensation in my toes and fingertips, I was certain it was a stupid idea.

  But that was when I heard the school’s big grandfather clock chime midnight. And then came a creak, and the door of room twenty-four began to open.

  I dodged into the lavatories and leant back against the cold wall, my heart racing. Violet had better not have got up just to go to the toilet.

  I slowed my breathing down and ordered my heartbeat to calm itself. And then I heard the footsteps go past the door. Time to go.

  Tiptoeing back out, I spied Violet heading for the stairs. I almost shouted at her impulsively, wanting to tell her she was caught, wanting to see the look on her face. But I stopped myself. Stupid. I had no proof that she’d done anything yet.

  I followed quickly and quietly, straining to see if she was still ahead of me in the darkness. I could hear the swishing of her nightgown as she hurried, until suddenly she stopped dead and whipped round to look behind her.

  I snapped my head back and plastered myself against the wall, trying to hold my breath. Had she seen me?

  I listened. Silence. I waited.

  That has to be long enough. I looked back, heart pounding, just in time to see her ebony hair and white nightdress slipping around the corner. I was safe. But where was she going?

  I sped up, not wanting to lose her. It wasn’t long before I realised the answer was obvious: the library. She was returning to the scene of one of the crimes. Maybe she was going to steal some more books. This was going to be good. I hoped Miss Jones would be there too, to witness me triumphantly unmasking Violet as the thief and clearing my name.

  Contrary to my suspicions, all the lights but one were switched off in the library, leaving a dim orange glow, and there were no obvious signs of life. If Miss Jones had been there, she wasn’t now.

  Violet had slowed down as she walked into the vast room, and I watched her as she approached the desk cautiously, probably checking for ambushing librarians. She walked around it, and I saw her picking through some of Miss Jones’s papers and books. There was nothing Violet liked better than spying, though you’d have thought that the fact her snooping about in Miss Fox’s desk drawer led to her disappearance would have taught her a lesson.

  Of course, I wasn’t spying. I was catching a criminal. That was different.

  Violet walked off in the direction of the stacks where we’d found the footprints – and that was my cue to follow. I sneaked behind her, between the towering bookshelves. I approached the dark corner, coiled like a spring, poised to catch her in the act …

  But she was gone.

  I stopped still. Where on earth was she? She’d been right in front of me!

  I turned round slowly, panic rising. If Violet jumped out at me, there was no telling what she’d do. Scenes of the rooftop flashed into my mind, the cold and the dark flooding in, and I fought the urge to whimper.

  Calm down, I told myself. Keep looking.

  So I searched, pacing the stacks, struggling not to cough in the dusty air, anticipating that at any moment I’d come face to face with my worst enemy. But it didn’t happen.

  Violet had well and truly disappeared.

  Suddenly, I became aware of how alone I was. Alone, in the dark, in the enormous library, that may or may not have been haunted, in deathly silence.

  No, not silence.

  There was a distant creaking, heavy thuds below my feet, the sound of the wind howling in the trees.

  And there were whispers in the walls.

  I ran.

  Scarlet shook me awake in the middle of the night.

  “What?” I murmured groggily, sitting up. I could just make out my twin’s panicked face. “What is it?”

  “I followed Violet.”

  “You did what?”

  Scarlet sat down on my bed, her breathing ragged as if she’d been running. “I thought I’d catch her stealing, so I could prove it wasn’t me.” She paused and gulped a breath of air. “So I waited outside her room until she came out. She went all the way down t
o the library, and then she, she …” Another pause. “She disappeared.”

  I was awake now. I wrapped the covers around myself, trying to keep out the chilly night air. “What do you mean, ‘she disappeared’?” It wasn’t as if this was the first time that Violet had gone missing.

  “One minute she was walking off through the shelves, then she was gone. And I don’t have a clue where. And I heard voices. I think.”

  Now this was strange. I thought I should probably give Scarlet a good talking-to for chasing after Violet, especially without me, but it sounded like whatever was going on was more curious than I’d ever imagined.

  I had a horrible thought. “W-what if it wasn’t Violet that you saw? What if it was the ghost?”

  “Ivy,” she said, and although I couldn’t see very clearly in the dark, I could tell from Scarlet’s tone of voice that she had probably rolled her eyes. “I really doubt it. Unless the ghost has been sleeping in Ariadne’s room without her noticing.”

  I lay back down in bed, suppressing a shiver that I told myself was just the cold. “We need sleep. Well, I need sleep, at least. We can tell Ariadne about this tomorrow, and see if she’s got any ideas about what happened. She’s usually good at figuring these things out.”

  Scarlet huffed at this. “I don’t see why we need to wait for your friend! Let’s go and investigate now, just the two of us.”

  But I stood up to her. “No, Scarlet! If we get caught sneaking around, we’ll be punished by Mr Bartholomew, and I don’t want to get in trouble again! We wait until morning.”

  Scarlet look dumbfounded at my words, but stood up and crossed the room, slipping under her covers as if she’d never been gone. And then, after a few moments of silence, she said, “Can we trust her?”

  “Ariadne?” The idea of someone not trusting her was perplexing to me.

  “Yes. It’s not like you’ve known her for long. And now she shares a room with Violet.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. She’s still the same person. And you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her – she helped me track down the pages of your diary!”