Fun and Games at Malory Towers Page 13

  Very soon all the fifth formers were asleep – apart from one. Poor Delia was feeling very troubled, for that very morning she had received a letter from Gillian’s mother. Mrs Weaver had written:

  I was quite concerned when I saw how ill Gillian looked at half-term. I feel so much happier now that I know that Gillian has a good friend, who will watch over her and make sure that she won’t overdo things.

  But although Delia had watched over Gillian, she hadn’t been able to stop her from doing exactly as she pleased. Sometimes Delia would broach the subject, rather tentatively, but Gillian would always brush it aside, her manner becoming bright as she insisted that she was quite well and enjoyed having plenty to occupy her time. And Delia wasn’t a strong enough character to push the matter. She sat up in bed suddenly, hugging her knees. A shaft of moonlight shone through a crack in the curtains, and she could see all of the fifth formers asleep in their beds. Delia sighed softly, wondering what the others would do in her position. If Felicity was worried about Susan, she would tell her so, straight out, thought Delia. She certainly wouldn’t allow herself to be brushed off, and nor would Susan if anything was the matter with Felicity. It was the same with Pam and Nora, Julie and Lucy, and Amy and Bonnie.

  None of them would be afraid of taking the bull by the horns, even if it meant the risk of causing offence, or falling out. Because they knew that their friendships would survive, and even grow stronger as a result. That was the trouble, thought Delia. She was too afraid of pushing Gillian away altogether, and losing her. But then, if she could lose her so easily, perhaps their friendship wasn’t worth having.

  With these thoughts churning around in her head, Delia lay down again and, at last, fell into an uneasy and fitful doze. A sound woke her, some hours later, and her eyes flew open. Blinking, she sat up and saw that the door was opening, a dark shape silhouetted there. In the middle of the night, all sorts of horrid, creepy thoughts filled Delia’s mind, and she wondered if she should yell, and wake the others. Then the shape closed the door and advanced into the room, and Delia felt weak with relief as the shaft of moonlight fell on it, and she realised that it was only Gillian.

  She must have been to the bathroom, thought Delia, and whispered, ‘Gillian! Are you all right?’

  But Gillian had climbed back into bed and gone straight off to sleep again. Which, thought Delia, just proved how exhausted she was.

  The girl mentioned the incident to Gillian the following morning, as they dressed.

  Gillian laughed, and said, ‘Heavens, I must have been worn out, for I don’t remember getting out of bed at all! Why, I must have gone to the bathroom in my sleep.’

  ‘You always seem worn out these days,’ said Delia. ‘And I can’t say I’m surprised.’

  Once again Gillian laughed, and brushed her friend’s words aside, but this time Delia was determined not to let the matter drop so easily. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so, Freddie suddenly cried, ‘I say! The thief has struck again! I bought myself a new hair-slide when I went into town the other day, and it has completely vanished.’

  ‘Are you sure it hasn’t just fallen on the floor, as Bonnie’s brooch did the other day?’ asked Felicity. ‘I know how careless you are with your things, Freddie.’

  ‘No, for I put it in the drawer of my cabinet when I took it out last night,’ said Freddie.

  ‘That’s right,’ said June. ‘I saw you.’

  ‘It seems that our thief is getting desperate,’ said Amy with a sniff. ‘First she goes for purses, and things like watches and brooches – not to mention my expensive perfume – and now all she can find to take is a cheap hair-slide.’

  ‘Do you mind?’ said Freddie. ‘It might just be a cheap hair-slide to you, Amy, but I spent the last of my pocket money on it. What’s more, I don’t have another one, and Miss James will probably send me out of the class for having untidy hair.’

  Fortunately Felicity was able to prevent this disaster from befalling Freddie, by lending her a hair-slide of her own. But the most recent theft put everything else out of the girls’ heads for the moment, and the chance for Delia to tackle Gillian was lost.

  Pam was very concerned, for as head of the form she felt that it was up to her to do her utmost to catch the thief, or at least stop her, and so far her efforts had met with no success at all.

  ‘If Freddie put her hair-slide in her drawer, that means that it must have been taken overnight, when we were all asleep,’ she said. ‘Right from under our very noses. And yet not one of us woke up and saw or heard a thing.’

  ‘Perhaps it isn’t someone from our form at all,’ suggested Susan. ‘It could be someone from another dormitory sneaking in here, and into our common-room.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s possible,’ said Pam. ‘Though I can’t think who would have such a grudge against the fifth form. I have made a decision though. If the thief hasn’t slipped up and been caught by the end of the week, I am going to Miss Grayling.’

  No one felt very happy about this, for the girls always liked to deal with such matters themselves, if they could. But they were forced to admit defeat on this occasion, and agree that there was nothing else they could do.

  Delia, meanwhile, was very thoughtful, and very troubled. For she had woken up, and she had seen something. She had seen Gillian, out of her bed. But the girl had been nowhere near Freddie’s cabinet. In fact, she had been coming into the dormitory from the landing. Ah yes, said a troublesome little voice in Delia’s head, but suppose Gillian had already taken Freddie’s hair-slide before you woke up? Suppose that she hadn’t been to the bathroom at all, but had gone out to hide the hair-slide somewhere, before slipping back in? Determinedly, Delia hushed the voice. How could she even think such a thing about her best friend? And then, the little voice piped up again, there was the business of Millicent’s notebook being in Gillian’s bag. But Delia had never asked for an explanation. Perhaps if she had done so at the time, Gillian would have been able to clear the matter up, and these horrible doubts wouldn’t keep popping up.

  ‘Horrid, isn’t it?’ said a voice in her ear suddenly, making her jump. Delia turned to find Gillian standing behind her.

  ‘I say, are you all right?’ asked Gillian, frowning. ‘You look awfully serious.’

  ‘Oh, I was just thinking about all these thefts,’ said Delia, turning a little red. ‘That’s enough to make anyone look serious!’

  ‘Yes, that’s just what I was saying,’ said Gillian. ‘Poor Freddie! I know that she hasn’t lost anything valuable, but it must feel horrible to think that someone has been in your drawer, and gone through all your belongings. Ugh! It quite gives me the creeps.’

  Delia was cheered by this, for surely Gillian couldn’t have spoken with such conviction if she really had been the thief. Smiling, she slipped her arm through the girl’s, and said, ‘Let’s try to put it out of our minds for a while. Ah, there’s the breakfast bell. I’m starving!’

  ‘Me too,’ said Gillian. ‘I shall need a good breakfast, for I mean to get some extra tennis practice in this afternoon. I was quite off my game yesterday.’

  ‘Perhaps you were off your game because you have been practising too hard,’ suggested Delia rather timidly as they made their way downstairs.

  ‘There’s no such thing as practising too hard,’ said Gillian, pulling a wry face. ‘When it comes to tennis or music, it really is a case of practice makes perfect.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Delia. ‘But surely even the most dedicated sportswoman or musician needs some time to relax.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right,’ said Gillian, and Delia felt her heart lift. Then it sank again, as Gillian added, ‘And the time to relax is when the tournament and the orchestra competition are both over. Ah, you wait, Delia, you will see a different side to me then, I promise you. I shall become so lazy that I’ll make Nora look positively energetic.’

  Perhaps, thought Delia, Gillian really did know best after all. She seemed
quite cheerful this morning, and the dark shadows beneath her eyes were less pronounced, although she had had a disturbed night. When June heard that she was planning to get some extra tennis practice in, she patted Gillian on the back and exclaimed, ‘That’s what I like to see! A bit of enthusiasm. Good for you, Gillian.’

  And, in Delia’s mind, that settled it. Everyone said what a marvellous games captain June was, and the whole school knew how well she looked after her players. So if June thought it was all right for Gillian to keep up the pace she had set herself, it must be.

  The lower school were also having tennis practice that day, and June made a point of singling out Barbara, the reserve. She praised the girl extravagantly, applauding her every shot, so that Barbara soon began to feel quite overwhelmed. Poor Hannah, on the other hand, found herself almost ignored, though she was practising very hard indeed and really playing very well.

  After her game had finished, Hannah, feeling rather hurt, went up to June and said hesitantly, ‘June, have I offended you in some way?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said June brightly. ‘What makes you think that, Hannah?’

  ‘Well, it’s just that I played my very hardest today, yet you didn’t even seem to notice.’

  ‘I did notice,’ said June. ‘And of course I am very pleased. But you see, Hannah, I have decided that I need to pay more attention to Barbara, as it is likely that she will be playing in one of the matches now. She is not as good as you, and doesn’t have your confidence.’

  ‘Barbara may be playing in one of the matches?’ said Hannah, not liking the sound of this. ‘I don’t understand, June. I thought that she was to be reserve.’

  ‘Yes, she is. But now that you have decided to play in Millicent’s orchestra, I have to be prepared for the fact that you may find it too much,’ said June.

  ‘Oh, but I shan’t!’ said Hannah, dismayed. ‘Really, June, I wouldn’t have taken it on if I had thought it would be too much for me.’

  ‘I’m quite sure that you wouldn’t,’ said June with a smile. ‘But you see, Hannah, the responsibility of choosing the best players for the team doesn’t lie with you. It lies with me. And if I think that your commitment to the orchestra is interfering with your tennis, then I may have no choice but to replace you.’

  Poor Hannah felt so upset that she could barely speak. Why, she had written to her parents and grand-parents to tell them that she was playing in the tournament, and they had written back, all of them telling her how proud they were. If June were to drop her now it would be too bad!

  ‘Cheer up, Hannah,’ said June. ‘I haven’t dropped you yet. And even if I do, why, you will still have the honour of playing in the orchestra. Of course, you will just be one of many, and the real glory – if you win – will be Millicent’s. Now, if you were to win your tennis match, it would be your victory, and yours alone.’

  Clever June gave Hannah a few moments to digest this, then she called out, ‘Oh, jolly well played, Barbara! Hannah, do excuse me, while I go and speak to Barbara.’

  Hannah was left alone, and she thought hard. June’s words had hit home, as the girl had known they would. The honour of the school was very important, but how marvellous it would be to have a slice of the glory all to herself, thought Hannah. And, if she won her singles match, that is what she would have. She glanced across at Barbara, who was hanging on June’s every word, staring up at her with an adoring expression. Oh, she simply couldn’t bear it if the girl took her place on the team, and got what she so badly wanted herself! Hannah’s mind was made up. Now came the difficult bit – informing Millicent of her decision!

  15

  A most peculiar night

  The atmosphere in the fifth-form classroom was not at all pleasant during prep that evening. As Lucy remarked to Julie, ‘You could cut the air with a knife.’

  The reason, of course, was that Hannah had told Millicent of her decision not to play piano in the orchestra after all. Millicent had been simply furious, and had been very cold indeed to Hannah.

  June, on the other hand, was delighted when Hannah sought her out and told her that she had decided to devote herself to tennis.

  ‘I’m very pleased to hear it,’ June had said with a wide smile. ‘I didn’t relish the idea of losing one of my best players to Millicent. I feel sure that you have made the right decision, Hannah. But then, I always knew that you would, for you’re a very bright kid.’

  These words of praise were very pleasant to hear, and Hannah felt more convinced than ever that she had been right to leave the orchestra, though she still felt a little upset at letting Millicent down.

  The next person to seek June out was Millicent. She found her down by the tennis courts, along with Felicity, Susan, Freddie and Gillian, and all five girls knew from the expression on Millicent’s face that she was in a temper.

  The girl wasted no time in getting to the point, saying angrily, ‘You mean beast, June! How dare you lure Hannah away from me?’

  ‘Lure?’ repeated June, with a soft laugh. ‘Let me assure you, my dear Millicent, there was no luring necessary. Hannah is quite capable of reaching her own decision, and that is exactly what she did.’

  ‘Yes, with a little help from you, no doubt,’ snapped Millicent. ‘You are determined to sabotage my efforts to win the orchestra competition.’

  ‘Oh, don’t talk nonsense,’ said June, beginning to lose patience now. ‘I hope that you do win the competition, but not at the cost of my tennis tournament.’

  ‘Well, I’m hardly likely to win without a pianist,’ said Millicent bitterly. ‘In fact, we might as well pull out.’

  ‘Come now, Millicent,’ said Felicity, beginning to feel a little sorry for the girl. ‘There are several girls in the school who can play piano, and I’m sure that there is still time for someone to learn the music. You’ll find someone.’

  ‘Yes, someone third-rate,’ said Millicent bitterly. ‘Hannah and Anne were by far the best players in the school.’

  ‘And you’ve lost them both,’ said June, in a light drawl that made Millicent long to shake her.

  Just then Pam came up, and seeing Millicent’s angry expression and June’s mocking one, her heart sank.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked, dreading the answer.

  But Millicent’s eyes suddenly lit up, and she almost pounced on Pam, seizing her arm.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted Pam. ‘Steady on, Millicent!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Millicent, slackening her grip. ‘Pam, I’ve just remembered that you play the piano. How would you like to be in the orchestra?’

  ‘Good idea,’ said June, with a grin. ‘Pam, Millicent was just saying that she was looking for a third-rate pianist!’

  ‘June, do be quiet!’ said Felicity, seeing that Millicent looked as if she was about to explode again. But the girl calmed herself and said evenly, ‘Actually, I said that I feared I might have to make do with a third-rate pianist. Then I remembered you, Pam. Do say that you will do it.’

  Pam looked into Millicent’s intense, earnest face and saw at once how much the competition meant to her.

  ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘I will do it, for the sake of the school. But please understand this, Millicent. I will not be bullied or humiliated by you. Any of that kind of thing, and I shall resign at once. Is that clear?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Millicent, feeling very relieved indeed. Pam wasn’t the best pianist in the school, but she was better than no one. And perhaps Millicent could re-write things a little, so that she didn’t have quite such a complicated solo to learn.

  ‘Well, all has ended happily,’ said June, smiling. ‘Millicent has found her third-rate pianist, and Pam has the satisfaction of knowing that she was only third choice.’

  Millicent shot June a poisonous glare and stalked off, while Pam said amiably, ‘You know, June, if we weren’t in the fifth form I would scrag you.’

  June laughed at this, while Susan said, ‘I hope you know what you’ve let yourself in f
or, Pam.’

  The easygoing Pam shrugged, and said, ‘Well, it’s as I said to Millicent. Any nonsense and I shall clear off. How do you find her, Gillian?’

  ‘Well, I know that she can be very harsh to some of the others,’ said Gillian. ‘But she’s never been unpleasant to me.’

  ‘No, because she is afraid that you will leave her high and dry,’ said June. ‘And she can’t afford to lose anyone else.’

  ‘Yes, as it is she’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, having to suffer me as pianist,’ said Pam drily.

  ‘Ah well, never mind,’ said June, a wicked sparkle in her eyes. ‘I daresay she will tell the others to play more loudly so that they drown out all your wrong notes. Ouch, you beast! That hurt!’

  The others laughed, as Pam playfully punched June in the shoulder. She really was very good-natured, thought Gillian, joining in the laughter. Then, all of a sudden, a great wave of tiredness seemed to wash over her, as it often did these days, and she put a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.

  ‘An early night for me tonight, I think,’ she said.

  ‘I should think so,’ said Pam. ‘I went past one of the music-rooms last night and heard you practising until almost ten o’clock. You were singing, too. I must say, you have the most beautiful voice.’

  Gillian looked puzzled for a moment. She hadn’t been singing, and she certainly didn’t have a beautiful voice – far from it! Then she remembered that Delia had been with her, and had sung along to the music. The girl had added some more words to the little song she had written and had wanted to see how they sounded. And they had sounded fine, sung in Delia’s melodic, lilting voice. But Delia still firmly refused to believe that she had any talent at all, and Gillian knew that she would not want the others to know that it was she who had been singing.

  So she said, quite truthfully, ‘Oh, my voice is nothing special, Pam.’

  ‘You’re too modest,’ said Pam. ‘You really must sing for the girls in the common-room one evening.’