Another day without Scarlet.
I pulled my pillow over my head, and tried my hardest to go to sleep, as Scarlet’s final words danced across my mind.
On Monday we were woken at seven by a shrill bell. I sat there at breakfast, feeling uncomfortable in Scarlet’s uniform, as Mrs Knight babbled away about something to do with her rhododendrons. Penny wasn’t looking at me. I hoped that she was keeping quiet about last night.
We had an assembly, where we sang hymns and listened to Miss Fox drone on about the school rules. She obviously liked rules much more than she liked people. There seemed to be hundreds, and I wondered how I was ever going to remember them all.
Our first lesson was history and luckily Ariadne had spent yesterday memorising our timetable and the classroom map, so I was able to follow her to class.
“Are you good at history, Scarlet?” she asked me as we walked. “It’s my favourite.”
Scarlet was useless at history. I, on the other hand, had a great memory for names and dates. “It’s all right, I suppose,” I said feebly.
“My great-great-granddaddy fought against Napoleon, you know,” replied Ariadne.
I feigned polite interest, but as we walked through the echoing corridors all I could think about was how to keep up this act in front of Scarlet’s teachers. Surely they would notice that I wasn’t my sister?
We joined a line of girls outside the classroom and filed in silently. I suddenly realised, too late, that I had no idea which desk belonged to Scarlet.
I felt like a bird in a flock that had just flown the wrong way. Which seat should I choose?
“What’s the matter, Scarlet?” said a simpering voice that could only belong to Penny. “Did you leave your brain at home?”
Giggles flooded the room as my cheeks heated up. At that moment there was a thud and a giant cloud of white dust billowed out of a cupboard.
From the cloud of dust emerged a coughing, white-haired woman. She waved her hand frantically, trying to disperse it. We all stared as she coughed for what felt like an age, and then finally slammed her blackboard rubbers down on her desk and pointed a quivering finger at me.
“Scarlet Grey!” she said, in an accusatory tone.
“Yes, Miss?” I responded, trying to hide the fear in my voice.
“That’s Madame Lovelace to you, insolent girl!” She pronounced it Loveless. “Why aren’t you at your desk?”
“I-I fancied a change of scenery?”
I heard snickers from behind me.
Madame Lovelace glared. “And you,” she said. “Who are you?”
Hang on a minute. Who was she talking to? I turned around and saw Ariadne standing just behind me, looking sheepish.
“Um,” said Ariadne. “I’m new.”
Madame Lovelace gave an exaggerated sigh. “Both of you, sit down,” she said, jabbing her finger in the direction of two unoccupied desks in the first row.
Relieved, I hurried to the nearest one and sat down.
“Now, girls,” said the teacher, slapping at her dusty dress. “Open your desks and take out your pens, please. Today we shall be studying the Battle of Waterloo.”
The lid of my desk was woodworm-speckled and decorated with a little brass number four, plus many years of idle scratches. I lifted it up. It smelt of ink and paper inside, and a familiar floral scent that went straight to my heart.
Scarlet. It was the rose perfume that she’d worn for the past few years after getting a bottle of it for Christmas.
I glanced around the class to see if anyone else had noticed the smell, but the other students looked half asleep. Madame Lovelace began to dictate lines about Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington.
Ariadne put her hand up. “My great-great-granddaddy fought against Napoleon,” she said.
“Very nice, dear,” said Madame Lovelace, looking displeased at the interruption.
I peered into the desk. There was a book in the bottom, with The History of Great Britain written in dull, heavy letters on the cover. I took it out.
“Now,” said Madame Lovelace, “turn to page fifty-three for a list of the important historical figures involved in the battle. Make a note of these, as you will need to remember them.” She punctuated every sentence with occasional coughs.
I heard Penny giggle quietly behind me.
I opened up the book and the smell of Scarlet’s perfume hit me so strongly I almost choked. It was as though she’d poured it all over the pages. I looked at Ariadne. Even she was wrinkling her mousey nose, so I slammed the cover shut.
“Miss Grey!” shouted Madame Lovelace.
“Yes?”
“Yes Madame. Do you have a problem with your book?”
“No, Madame.”
“Then kindly stop abusing it and pay attention!”
For the rest of the lesson I tried to ignore the perfume, but it felt like it was seeping into my mind. Why would Scarlet have brought her precious bottle into class?
At ten o’clock the bell rang and everyone began to filter out of the room. I had to think of a reason to stay behind.
“Madame Lovelace?” I asked.
She peered up at me over her thick-rimmed glasses. “Yes, Miss Grey?”
“May I clean the blackboard for you?”
Madame Lovelace looked like I’d just offered to spit in her tea. “Are you up to something, girl?” she said, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she frowned. “The Scarlet Grey I know wouldn’t have cleaned my blackboard without the threat of the cane.”
Oh no! She might tell Miss Fox and then … No. Stay calm. My mind scrambled for something to say.
“I’m turning over a new leaf.” I swallowed and tried again. “I shouldn’t have been insolent earlier. I thought I should make up for it.”
I half expected Madame Lovelace to stand up, point her bony finger at me and shriek that I was an imposter. Scarlet never made apologies for herself. I was always the one who had to do the apologising.
But it didn’t happen. Instead, she just blinked at me a few times and then said, “Very well. Just make sure you clap the rubbers out afterwards. I do hate chalk dust.” She gave a small cough again, and I wasn’t sure whether or not she was illustrating her point. “You can have a house point for that.”
I nodded, although I had no idea what a house point was, or what I did with one.
I
