and I eventually managed to reach the sinks and get ourselves ready for bed, and then we headed back to room thirteen. I had to admit I was a little relieved not to run into Ebony again. Something about her just wasn’t quite right.
Getting under the sheets was the strangest feeling after being away from Rookwood for so long. Our beds had been made with hospital corners as usual, meaning I had to untuck the whole thing before I could actually climb into it. But once I was lying down, I had to admit … it almost felt like home. More than anywhere else did, anyway.
I thought briefly about hiding my new diary in the mattress, but that wouldn’t be much of a hiding place, since everyone knew about it now. Do I need to hide it? I thought. I didn’t have so many secrets these days.
But then I thought of what had just happened in the lavatories. I was no longer faced with Miss Fox or Violet, and Penny seemed to have mellowed a little, but then there were people like Ebony.
I decided to put the diary inside my pillow, just for now. I’d have to find a better place, though, or it could get tossed into the laundry.
Ivy yawned in the bed across the room. “Back at Rookwood,” she sighed.
“Everything’s different, but …” I took a deep breath. “There’s more of the same. Bullies and secrets and—”
“Stew,” Ivy finished for me. “Lots and lots of stew.”
We smiled at each other in the darkness.
“Night, Scarlet,” she said.
“Night, Ivy.”
It was chilly and the sheets were a little scratchy against my skin. But only a few moments passed before I slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
I woke to a loud clanging, and almost panicked before I realised it was Rookwood’s regular morning bell.
I sat up, stretched and looked around to find Ivy already sitting at the desk, brushing her hair with our mother’s brush.
“How are you awake already?” I asked.
She shrugged happily. “I slept well.”
“Me too,” I said. I unfolded myself from the covers and got up. A glance out of our window with its threadbare curtains revealed a bright day outside. The leaves were rustling in the trees, waving gently like green fingers.
“I wonder how Ariadne got on,” Ivy said. “With her first night sharing with Muriel, I mean.”
Once we were dressed and ready, we went to investigate. We knocked on their door and Ariadne’s mousy face peered out. “Morning,” she whispered, slipping into the corridor.
“So … did you survive?” Ivy asked, even though it was plainly obvious that she had.
Ariadne’s brow wrinkled. “Nothing happened. She seemed upset after that incident with Ebony, and I asked if she was all right. That cheered her up a little. Then she just said she was going to read a book and didn’t speak another word.”
“See?” I poked her gently. “I told you it would be fine.”
“Scarlet, stop poking people,” Ivy said.
I poked her in the arm, just to prove a point.
Ariadne still didn’t look very reassured. I noticed there were bags under her eyes, and her hair was a bit of a tangle. “So you didn’t sleep as well as we did?”
She shuffled her feet. “Well, I know it’s silly, but I couldn’t relax knowing she was in the room. It was like … being haunted or something. I can’t forget what she was like before.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Muriel appeared. We all looked up – and Ariadne went a bit white. But she didn’t seem to have heard what we’d been saying. She just smiled at us. “Morning,” she said. “What do they do for breakfast around here?”
“Porridge,” I said.
“Oh.” She didn’t seem too disappointed. For someone who had apparently been the worst bully since Penny, she appeared to be quite cheerful. “Well, see you down there.” She strode away towards the stairs.
We both looked at Ariadne without saying anything. I raised my eyebrows, as if to say: A bully? Really?
“I’m serious!” she squeaked. “She was awful!”
“It’s all right,” said Ivy. “We believe you. It’s just that … she seems different now.”
I nodded in agreement. “I think it’s Ebony we need to worry about.”
In the dining hall, the familiar thick smell of porridge greeted us, but I could see something was different straight away.
Ebony had gained a following.
It was only a small one, but it was still a following. She was up at the serving hatch and there was a little group of girls trailing her like kittens round their mother.
As we got closer, I realised that the group mostly consisted of Ariadne’s old roommates, as well as some of the other younger girls.
“What’s that about?” I hissed, gesturing over to them as we joined the back of the queue.
Ariadne’s eyes were wide. “I think she has a fan club.”
We watched as two of the girls fought over who was going to carry Ebony’s tray for her, which was eventually solved by Ebony handing one of them her mug of tea. They went over to one of the tables and all gathered round her. She was talking. I had no idea what she was saying, since it just faded into all the surrounding noise, but they were all leaning in and hanging on her every word. She waved a hand at one point and all their eyes followed it, as if she were drawing something in the air.
“Now that’s just odd,” I said. “She can’t be that interesting, surely?”
One of the new teachers went over – by the looks of it, she was telling some of them off for not sitting at their house table. But they didn’t pay her any attention, and she walked off looking red-faced and flustered.
When we’d picked up our helpings of porridge, we headed for our table. I couldn’t help taking a sneaky detour past where they were sitting. Pieces of their conversation floated to my ears.
“Is it true?” I heard one of the younger girls say.
“Teach me, Ebony, please!”
“Show us what you can do!”
I rolled my eyes. They were so unbelievably desperate for her attention.
But the last exchange I caught as I walked past them was more interesting.
“Can you really do magic?” I heard Agatha say, her voice glittering with awe.
For a moment, Ebony said nothing.
