The Whispers in the Walls. Sophie Cleverly

      The room was almost pitch black, but I could just make out the lump that was Ivy under her covers and hear her snoring softly. I was safe. Nothing was going to get me in here.

      I just had to keep telling myself that.

      Wednesday morning dawned, and the morning bell was like a hammer to my head. If Ivy had noticed I’d been awake, she didn’t say anything about it. But then she didn’t say two words to me anyway.

      And it didn’t look like things were going to get any better when Mrs Knight once again called an assembly.

      “It greatly saddens me to tell you that there were yet more thefts last night. A good deal of food was stolen from the kitchens, and –” she paused and looked down at her sheet of paper as if she couldn’t quite believe it – “Miss Jones tells me that books have gone missing from the library as well. Really, girls, this is appalling!”

      A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall, and I knew everyone was speculating about who the thief was. I heard something in the night, I thought. Maybe it was the thief.

      I turned to my twin, about to whisper to her, when I saw her furrowed brow. Ugh. It was no use. She’d probably think I was just trying to cover my tracks.

      “Thieves will not be tolerated in this school. If you know anything about who might be responsible, please report it to myself or Mr Bartholomew immediately.” Mrs Knight carried on giving notices, and then read a story from the Bible and told us all how it was bad to steal. As if we didn’t know.

      Well, I supposed one person didn’t.

      Who could it be?

      At the end of assembly, I saw Penny march up to Mrs Knight and start whispering something to her. I kept an eye on her as I stood, ready to leave, and saw her point very clearly in my direction.

      The little leech! She was telling on me! And for once, I hadn’t even done anything wrong. I looked around for my twin to share my disbelief, but she had already walked out.

      I stood, momentarily glued to the spot, but Mrs Knight beckoned me over. Despite the rising panic inside me, I smiled calmly and tried to look as innocent as possible.

      Penny gave me the stare of death as she walked away from us. I would not let her pin this all on me just to earn herself a few house points. Perfect prefect Penny. I shuddered.

      “Scarlet,” said Mrs Knight, “Penelope thinks you may know something about the recent thefts. She thinks you have some sort of grudge against her.”

      “Please, Miss. She’s the one with the grudge against me. I haven’t done anything.”

      Mrs Knight sighed. “Honestly, I think you’re both as bad as each other. Run along, then,” she said. “But you need to be careful. If there’s any evidence against you, Mr Bartholomew is going to come down on you like …”

      “… a ton of bricks?” I finished, having received that threat many times.

      She fixed me with a stern, searching look. “Perhaps make that two tons,” she said.

      Even though we didn’t have ballet that day, I wanted to talk to Miss Finch. Ivy was still cross with me, and I barely knew Ariadne. If there was anyone who might be on my side, it would definitely be Miss Finch. She’d helped to rescue me, after all.

      I lurked on the ballet studio stairs at the end of the day, arms folded, waiting for her lesson to finish. Eventually, once the gaggle of older girls had left, she noticed me standing there.

      “Hello, Scarlet,” she said, peering up the stairwell at me. “Are you settling back in well? How’s Ivy getting on?”

      “I didn’t do it,” I said.

      She blinked at me. “That’s nice. What is it you didn’t do, exactly?”

      “I’m not the thief, I mean. Everyone thinks I am, but I’m not. I swear!”

      She nodded gently, and then indicated for me to come down into the room. I followed her to her piano stool, and she perched on it. Her bad leg meant she had to rest often. “I believe you.”

      “Will you vouch for me?” I asked. “Tell the other teachers that I didn’t do it?”

      She played a few keys on the piano, the way she sometimes did when she was thinking about things. “Scarlet,” she said after a moment, “like I said, I believe you. And I don’t think you’d lie to me. Not any more.” A pointed look. She was thinking about the piano-smashing incident. I felt my cheeks flush. “But I’m also not sure if me telling everyone will do any good. Especially not if there’s evidence against you.”

      “There isn’t any!” I snapped back. Then I sighed and leant against the shiny new piano. There was something important I’d remembered. “Besides, Miss Finch … I’m not the only one who hasn’t been completely honest. You never told us that you were Miss Fox’s daughter!”

      She rubbed her face, and I saw in that moment just how tired she was. “We all have our little lies. Sometimes they become big ones. Sometimes you have no choice but to hide the truth, even when you know it’s wrong.”

      I nodded. “I know what you mean.” Lies were hard to keep under control.

      She smiled at me cautiously, and went back to playing the piano. I took that to mean the conversation was over, but there was something else I needed to say. I cleared my throat and her hands stopped moving. “Miss … Thank you for helping Ivy find me. I’d still be locked away if it wasn’t for you. And, well, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know if Miss Fox was my mother, either!”