Naughtiest Girl 6: Naughtiest Girl Helps A Friend Read online

  ‘Are you sure we’ve got time?’ asked Elizabeth. Reluctantly, she, too, got to her feet. ‘We could always go tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ve looked at the rota. We’ve got plenty of time!’ replied Joan. ‘We’re down for Kitchen Duties at six o’clock and that’s two whole hours away.’

  Joan had discovered that her torch batteries were getting low. She wanted to go to the village and buy some spare ones. It was a strict rule at Whyteleafe School that if pupils wished to walk down to the shops during free time, they must always go in pairs. Naturally, Elizabeth had agreed to accompany Joan. But in truth she would have much preferred to spend the free time exploring the camp site. There was so much jollity and excitement going on. There was going to be a barbecue round the camp fire that evening!

  ‘If you say so—’ began Elizabeth.

  And then suddenly there came a loud screech from inside the tent.

  A moment later, Arabella burst out, hurling her sleeping bag on the ground in front of her.

  ‘What have you put in my sleeping bag, Elizabeth Allen?’ she shrieked. ‘Take it all out, whatever it is. If you put it in, you can take it out! I suppose I was meant to feel all that stuff in the dark, when I climbed into my sleeping bag at bedtime!’

  ‘How dare you!’ exclaimed Elizabeth, in amazement. Her own voice rose in anger. ‘Whatever are you talking about? How dare you start screaming at me!’

  Girls from nearby tents were now peering out, to see what the rumpus was about.

  Arabella turned to Joan, for support.

  ‘When I started to roll my sleeping bag up, it felt all lumpy!’ she screeched. ‘Then I put my hand inside and there was something all wet and yukky. And there was something prickly, as well. Feel inside, if you don’t believe me!’ Her voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. ‘I’m sure anybody in the world would scream at Elizabeth, if she did the same thing to them!’

  As Joan bent down to unzip the sleeping bag, Elizabeth could feel herself starting to boil with rage.

  She hardly cared what Joan was pulling out of the sleeping bag. A wet sponge, Arabella’s hairbrush, a bar of sticky soap, a little nailbrush . . .

  ‘Oh, dear. Poor Arabella,’ Joan was saying, rather helplessly. ‘Somebody’s been playing a joke on you . . .’

  Elizabeth was too busy fighting to control her hot temper. Then—

  Arabella walked up to Elizabeth!

  ‘I suppose you think it’s funny? I suppose you were really looking forward to watching me get into bed tonight—’

  She gave Elizabeth a hard push.

  And at that point Elizabeth boiled over.

  ‘Why should I want to bother to play a joke on you, you stupid creature!’ she shouted. ‘Everybody knows you’ve got no sense of humour. I don’t know anything about your silly sleeping bag—’

  ‘Fibber!’

  ‘I expect you did it yourself to get me into trouble!’

  ‘Fibber! Fibber! Fibber!’ shrilled Arabella.

  ‘Don’t you dare call me a fibber!’

  Elizabeth made a lunge at Arabella while Joan stood there, looking aghast, just as the next-door tent monitor came racing over.

  ‘Stop it!’ she cried. It was Philippa, one of the senior girls. ‘Who’s the tent monitor around here? Can’t they keep order?’

  It was the sight of Joan’s ashen face that calmed Elizabeth down. She took a step backwards. Arabella, too, backed away.

  ‘That’s better,’ nodded Philippa. ‘If you’ve got a disagreement, just learn to settle it in a civilized way.’

  She returned to her tent.

  Then a tiny figure tiptoed out from behind the nearby willow tree. It was Teeny Wilson.

  She looked very white and trembly.

  She walked straight up to Arabella.

  ‘Please don’t blame Elizabeth,’ she said. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘It wasn’t her who played the joke on you.’

  Arabella looked startled.

  ‘Who was it, then?’ she asked.

  ‘It was me,’ said Teeny.

  They all gasped. Then Teeny turned to Elizabeth, miserably.

  ‘It was only going to be a – a bit of fun. I didn’t mean somebody else to get the blame.’

  Elizabeth stared down at the small upturned face in astonishment.

  Arabella’s mouth was opening and closing. No words would come out.

  ‘Teeny, some people don’t mind jokes and some people hate them,’ explained Joan, gently. ‘You must please apologize to Arabella at once.’

  The child went over and said sorry.

  ‘I suppose you’re only a kid,’ muttered Arabella. ‘But please don’t do anything like that again. You will now be so kind as to spread my sleeping bag out in the sun and sit with it until it dries off. When it’s completely dry, you will then roll it up and put it back in the tent.’

  Arabella turned to Elizabeth.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  ‘I should think so!’ replied Elizabeth.

  Flouncing off, Arabella then called back over her shoulder to Joan:

  ‘You could at least have stopped us two shouting at each other. No wonder Philippa didn’t know who the tent monitor was supposed to be!’

  It was so cruel that it brought tears to Joan’s eyes.

  As the two friends walked slowly away from the tent together, arm in arm, Elizabeth tried to comfort her.

  ‘Arabella often says unkind things, Joan. You mustn’t take any notice of her.’

  Elizabeth was thinking hard. Her head was still spinning from the dramatic events of the past few minutes. She was astonished that Teeny had dared to play such a trick on Arabella. Teeny was such a shy, nervous little thing! It didn’t make sense, somehow.

  But Joan had other things on her mind.

  ‘I can’t help but take notice of what Arabella said. The truth is, I’m really worried, Elizabeth,’ she confessed. ‘Teeny looks up to me so and I know she will want to lean on me. I’m quite frightened . . . that I’m not going to make a success of things.’

  Joan looked so agitated that Elizabeth’s heart went out to her.

  She suddenly felt full of remorse that she had teased Joan earlier. She had not taken her friend’s worries seriously. She was also very cross with herself for losing her temper with Arabella, however much she had been provoked. Arabella wasn’t worth it! Nothing was worth seeing Joan unhappy.

  She made a solemn vow.

  ‘Joan, from now on I’m going to be as sweet and good-tempered with Arabella as anything. And I’ll help you to make sure that Teeny doesn’t do anything silly again, either. You just wait and see. Everyone in the whole camp will soon realize that you’re the finest tent monitor there’s ever been! I’m going to back you all the way.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Joan makes a silly mistake

  AS ELIZABETH made her solemn vow, Joan’s face lit up with pleasure. Whatever her worries, it was a great comfort to have such a loyal friend.

  ‘Thank you, Elizabeth,’ she said, softly. ‘And I must try to live up to your hopes of me. I shall try not to let down any of the people in my tent.’

  ‘You will be a fine tent monitor, just you see,’ repeated Elizabeth, pleased to see that Joan looked calm and happy again. ‘We’ll both have to keep an eye on Teeny though, won’t we? Do you think she had just finished filling Arabella’s sleeping bag when we surprised her in the tent? She was right next to it, wasn’t she? And her hands shook with fright when we appeared!’

  ‘Why, yes, so they did,’ remembered Joan. ‘That must have been the reason! I had been warned to expect her to be nervy but—’

  ‘Nobody could be as nervy as that!’ agreed Elizabeth.

  The two girls were walking along the top of the
bank, deep in conversation.

  On the opposite bank, where the boys’ tents were pitched, some juniors were running along together, laughing and shouting boisterously. The girls gave them hardly a glance.

  ‘Don’t you think the whole thing was odd?’ continued Elizabeth. ‘It was such a strange thing for Teeny to do. She is such an unconfident little thing. Fancy her daring to try to play that trick on Arabella, of all people! You only have to look at Arabella to know that she’s not the sort of person to play jokes on.’

  ‘A girl in a higher form, as well!’ agreed Joan. ‘Yes, it’s puzzling. But I wonder if I can guess the reason? Miss Ranger has explained to me that Teeny is desperate to make some friends. Do you think she could have read story books about camping and the jolly jokes friends play on each other? Perhaps she thought we’d all like her and think she was fun and be pleased to have her in the tent?’

  ‘Oh, Joan, that’s a clever theory!’ exclaimed Elizabeth. Then she began to laugh. ‘You mean, perhaps she was trying to make friends with Arabella—?’

  ‘Well, at least to break the ice.’

  Even Joan began to laugh now, as she saw the funny side.

  ‘The trouble is,’ sighed Elizabeth, when they had stopped laughing, ‘I can see a flaw in that theory. If Teeny thought it was such a fun thing to do, why was she looking so scared—’

  She got no further.

  ‘Look out, Joan!’ she cried.

  Two figures were hurtling through the air towards them. They had launched themselves from the opposite bank and were heading straight for them!

  The girls leapt back only just in time, as the flying figures thudded on to the grass in front of them, sprawled out like starfish.

  ‘Are you all right?’ gasped Joan, anxiously.

  ‘Of course they’re all right!’ said Elizabeth, as a boy and girl from the junior class scrambled to their feet. ‘Look where you’re going, you two! You nearly landed on top of us.’

  Duncan and Kitty smiled cheekily. They were two very tough little juniors, both athletic. Elizabeth glanced at the huge leap they had made and was secretly rather impressed. The two opposing banks of the old stream were high at this point, the drop between them a steep one. Why, she would rather like to try that herself!

  ‘You’re lucky you haven’t hurt yourselves!’ Joan was saying. ‘You could have missed your footing.’

  ‘It’s easy as pie,’ boasted Duncan.

  ‘Well, you’re not to do it again,’ Joan told them.

  ‘There’s a footbridge down by Camp Centre,’ Elizabeth pointed out, anxious to give Joan full backing. ‘What’s wrong with using that?’

  ‘It’s the wrong way,’ grumbled Kitty, rather sulkily. ‘We’re going to visit one of the tents up this end.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, we are,’ agreed Duncan, looking equally put out. ‘We’re going to see somebody in our class, aren’t we, Kitty?’

  ‘In that case, you should have scrambled down the bank and up the other side,’ Joan told them. ‘And that’s what you must do in future, when you don’t want to use the footbridge. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, Joan!’

  ‘And turn your collars down neatly!’ added Elizabeth, for good measure. ‘They look messy turned up like that!’

  The two friends scampered off. Joan and Elizabeth watched them for a while.

  ‘Thanks for backing me up,’ said Joan, gratefully.

  ‘I think you managed them really well!’ replied Elizabeth, turning on her heel then, impatient to be on their way. ‘I wonder if we’ve got time to have a toasted muffin before we go to the village? I can smell them from here!’

  ‘I’m sure we have—’ Joan began.

  She stopped.

  ‘Look, Elizabeth!’ she said, eagerly.

  ‘What?’ asked Elizabeth, turning back. ‘Something interesting?’

  ‘In a way, yes. Look there – can you see our tent?’

  Joan was pointing back the way they had come. Through a gap in the tents they could just see their own, nestling under the high brick wall. Teeny was sitting cross-legged outside the tent. She was obediently watching over Arabella’s spread-out sleeping bag, waiting for it to dry. And Duncan and Kitty were running up to speak to her!

  ‘Teeny! That’s who they were on their way to see!’ exclaimed Elizabeth.

  ‘Yes, isn’t it good!’ said Joan, in relief. ‘Teeny must be making some friends, after all.’

  ‘Perhaps we’ll be able to stop worrying about her soon,’ smiled Elizabeth. ‘Let’s go and get our muffins now!’

  As Elizabeth stood by the camp fire, swallowing delicious mouthfuls of warm muffin, she remembered some words from a famous poem that her father had once read to her. Something about – ‘Bliss . . . was it . . . in that dawn to be alive . . .’

  This, she decided, was indeed bliss. How she loved it here at Whyteleafe School! How silly she’d been when she had first arrived last summer, trying to get herself sent home by being the Naughtiest Girl in the School . . . It was such a nuisance that she still had to live down that nickname. She was sorry that Philippa had overheard the quarrel with Arabella. That must have earned her a black mark! But everything was going to be all right now, surely?

  Camp Centre was abuzz with activity. Some of the boys had been collecting firewood for the barbecue. Mr Leslie had finished building a fine table in the camp’s Kitchen Area. Cook had arrived in her old jeep and boxes of bread rolls were being stacked on the table. Although some of their meals would be eaten in the school building, there was to be a First Night Barbecue outside this evening.

  There would be sausages and grilled bacon, eaten in the open air between crusty buttered rolls, and washed down with plenty of orange juice, apple juice or lemonade.

  Elizabeth was looking forward to it with great excitement. She turned to the boy standing next to her.

  ‘Poor old Julian, having to go home for half-term!’ she told Martin. Julian Holland was her great friend in the first form. ‘He has no idea what he’s missing!’

  ‘There’s plenty of work to do,’ replied Martin, who was also in the first form. He could be rather earnest at times. He pointed to the big table. ‘You and Joan are doing Kitchen Duty with me and Arabella. We’ve got all those bread rolls to butter!’

  ‘Have we really?’ asked Elizabeth, with interest. She had wondered what job they would be given.

  Joan had been talking to Susan, the other second form monitor. They had been in a huddle together over their timetables. All the tent monitors had been given one of the typewritten lists in advance. It was their responsibility to see that the members of their tent were at all times punctual for Camp Duties.

  ‘Elizabeth! Here a minute!’ Joan called, as Susan walked away.

  As soon as Elizabeth rejoined her friend, she could see that something was wrong.

  ‘I’ve made a silly mistake,’ she said, looking agitated. She handed Elizabeth the timetable and pointed to the first day rota. ‘I looked so quickly, I thought that was a 6. But it isn’t! It’s a 5—’

  ‘So it is,’ replied Elizabeth, peering at it. ‘It’s a bit smudgy. You could easily mistake it for a 6—’

  ‘So we’ve got to report for Kitchen Duty not at six o’clock but at five!’ Joan was saying. ‘And that’s less than half an hour away!’

  ‘Well, don’t look so worried, Joan. We all make mistakes!’ said Elizabeth cheerfully. Secretly she felt rather pleased. A trip to the village today had never been high on her list, not when they were still enjoying settling into camp! ‘We’ll just have to go and get your new torch batteries tomorrow, after all,’ she smiled. ‘It was lucky you noticed in time—’

  ‘Because I don’t want any more black marks against my name!’ Elizabeth was thinking privately.

  ‘
Oh, don’t be feeble, Elizabeth!’ interrupted Joan, sharply. ‘Of course we must get the batteries today. We can’t possibly leave it till tomorrow!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No “buts”! Come on, quickly, we’ve got to hurry!’

  Joan grabbed hold of her friend’s hand and hauled her towards the footbridge which joined up the two halves of the camp.

  ‘If we go up past the boys’ tents, there’s a short cut through to the back drive! Then it’s only a few minutes down to the village. I’ve got my purse with me!’

  ‘Joan, I don’t think we’ve got enough time!’ protested Elizabeth, puffing to keep up with her friend. ‘Even if the batteries do run out tonight, it won’t really matter, will it?’

  ‘Of course it will!’ exclaimed Joan. She seemed in a slight panic. ‘Supposing Teeny wakes up in the night and wants something . . . If you’re tent monitor, you must have a working torch. I’m sure it’s one of the rules. Please, Elizabeth!’ Joan shot her friend an imploring glance. ‘We can run all the way there and all the way back. You know what a fast runner you are! You promised you’d help me to be a good monitor—’

  ‘Of course,’ nodded Elizabeth. She could see now that this was really important to Joan. ‘Let’s run really fast then. Let’s break the world speed record!’

  They pelted over the wooden footbridge and up the field, past the boys’ tents, the summer breeze blowing through their hair. It was really exhilarating, running as fast as this! thought Elizabeth.

  But it took them some time to find the short cut through some bushes that led into the school’s back drive. The leaves had grown and all the bushes looked the same. By the time they reached the school gates, Elizabeth knew they were not going to make it to the village and back by five o’clock.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Elizabeth remembers her vow

  AS THEY came through the school gates and pounded along by the road, on the grass verge, Elizabeth glanced at her watch with a sinking heart. This was such a mad idea of Joan’s. They had not even reached the first corner yet!