Lady in Waiting

by Lady Victoria Hervey

“We’re nothing if not kind, Frederica,” Daddy said. “How are your lessons going? Are you finding them harder this year yet?”

  “My lessons are fine. Not too hard, not yet, anyway. I’m confident I’ll get good A Levels.” Well, I hoped I would get good A Levels. Only time would tell. And how well mine and Annie’s last minute cramming went. “I have a trip to Paris next month for history of art. It’s only for the weekend. I wish I could drop in and see you and Mummy.”

  “Not to worry, sweetheart. You have a good time while you’re away. I’ll make sure you have some extra spending money. Ah, here’s your mother, I’ll hand you over to her. Talk soon, darling girl.”

  “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Frederica?” Mummy said as she came on the phone.

  “Hello, Mummy. How are you?” I asked.

  “Very well, thank you,” she answered. “How is school going?”

  “School is good. What about Augustus and Louisa? Have you heard from them?”

  Mummy sighed. “More often than I’d like. It seems Louisa has taken your knowledge of school pranks and outdone you, darling. I’ve already had her school on the phone twice and it’s only been a week.”

  I stifled a laugh. Oh, Louisa… “She’ll keep your hands full, Mummy.”

  “Hmm,” Mummy said, not sounding overly happy at the prospect of having a naughtier daughter than me. “What about Masters then, Frederica? Are you enjoying living with your friends?”

  “Yes, it’s brilliant,” I said with a grin. “I’d forgotten how much I had missed all the girls until I was back. It’s wonderful living with them.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. And is your kitchen well stocked?”

  “We get a few staple things delivered every day. It’s nice to have breakfast here rather than having to go into the main dining room.”

  Mummy laughed. “I’d hazard a guess it’s because you can enjoy a few extra minutes in bed?”

  “Ah, you know me so well, Mummy!”

  A girl behind me coughed. I twisted around to see the long line of impatient looking girls. I huffed. “I’d better go, Mummy, there are lots of girls waiting to use the phone.” Not only was it annoying that my time talking with my family was limited, it was never a private conversation. There had been a few times I’d wanted to talk to Mummy about a boy, or something embarrassing when I’d been younger, and hadn’t been able to because then the rest of the school would find out.

  “Of course, darling. We’ll talk next Sunday.”

  “Okay. Give my love to everyone.”

  “I will. I love you, Frederica.”

  “I love you too, Mummy.” I hung up the phone and stuck my tongue out at the girl waiting next in line who had coughed.

  After that first week back at school, all us Sixth Formers soon found ourselves bogged down with work. Homework took even longer to complete as it was harder and more in depth. History of art, in particular, took hours. We were expected to know every painting we studied, the artist and the year. It made for a lot of factual information that clogged my brain until it all became a big jumbled mess.

  The history of art trip to Paris came and went in a blur as we visited the Louvre and the Palace of Versailles. I loved being around all the art and I was actually quite moved by a few pieces. My friends would have called me a swot, but I had started to enjoy the class for more than the trips abroad. Or perhaps I just enjoyed looking at pretty things.

  My birthday came—seventeen!

  Mummy flew over from Monaco to take Annie and me on a shopping trip in London and we had a ball. On our return, the other girls had arranged a low-key party in the Sixth Form centre with lots of yummy treats and sugary pop drinks. It was great fun and my friends spoilt me rotten.

  As the weeks slipped away and November got closer, older Mapleton Manor girls could be found in whispering huddles in the corridors, plotting and scheming. The First Form girls had no idea what we were up to—but they were soon to get the shock of their lives.

  Any boarding school worth its salt had a good ghost story, and Mapleton Manor had a thumping good one.

  Polly Pearl was a British courtesan and was one of the first ever ‘It’ girls. She was famous for simply being famous. People talked about Polly’s good looks and charm, which was only amplified by the attention she gained from renowned artists.

  She married Frank Norton and came to live at his family home, Hemston—which would later become Mapleton Manor. Polly died a few months after her marriage to Frank, and girls believed her to have drowned in the lake on the school grounds.

  Over the years, many people claimed to have seen Polly roaming around Mapleton Manor in her gown and there was a particular legend that went around about spotting Polly’s ghost.

  And like all good older girls, we used this as an excuse to…welcome the newcomers to Mapleton Manor.

  We chanted our Polly Pearl rhyme in low, whispering voices as we crept into the First Formers dorm room. The girls had been in bed for a few hours and were fast asleep as we woke them all up.

  One by one, they sat up in their beds, blinking in confusion.

  “Everyone up!” Athena commanded in a firm voice that no one would dare to argue with. “Shoes on and follow us.”

  The girls did as they’d been told without complaint. Some were wide eyed as they followed us out into the dark night in their nightgowns and school shoes, others giggled in nervous excitement. One or two I saw whisper to their friends—no doubt they had an older sister who had spilled the beans on what happened on Polly Pearl night.

  Spoilsports. We should have to sign non-disclosure agreements or something.

  We older girls were dressed more wisely and had changed out of our nightclothes and into Levis, jumpers and wellies. All the housemistresses knew about Polly Pearl night, and usually let us get away with it. It was never talked about, but someone had to notice a bunch of Upper-Form girls sneaking the First Formers out into the grounds late at night.

  The younger girls huddled close together as we led them deeper into the darkness, farther away from the safety of their house and their beds. I spotted Jessica amongst them, looking small and scared as she shivered in her nightdress.

  My forehead pinched in concern, and all I wanted to do was to give her a hug and reassure her that tonight was all just a bit of fun.

  “Feeling sorry for them, Freddie?” Jemima asked from behind me.

  Of course Jemima wouldn’t feel sorry for any of them. “I can’t help it. Were we ever that small, Gem?”

  She chuckled under her breath. “We probably were. You would have been heads above us all.”

  I rolled my eyes at her slight, but didn’t bother to answer back.

  We walked for around ten minutes in the dark, until we reached the narrow brick tunnel. No one knew what it had been used for, but we assumed it was an older part of the estate.

  Whatever it was for, it provided the perfect creepy prelude to our spooky night.

  Ankle-deep muddy water coated the bottom of the tunnel and various shrieks and yelps bounced off the walls as the girls stepped into it.

  Wellies—they would remember that one in years to come, I was certain of it.

  “Remember our year, Freddie?” Annie asked as she tugged on my hand in the darkness. “A frog jumped on my foot and I almost hit my head on the ceiling I jumped so high.”

  I let out a giggle at the memory. “I remember. And I remember all too well how disgusting that water felt creeping into my shoes. They stunk for weeks!”

  Annie laughed and we continued on through the narrow tunnel, herding the girls along.

  “Polly Pearl is the most famous Mapleton Manor girl of all time,” Athena said at the front of the group. She was the most dramatic out of all of us, and was the perfect person to lead the night’s activities. She lit a candle that she had brought with her. The glow from the flame lit up her face from below, creating an eerie, haunting look. “Young, beautiful, charming…Polly Pearl had it all. Everyone wanted h
er—wanted to know her, wanted to be friends with her…wanted to be with her. But Polly set her heart on Frank Norton!”

  Several girls from Norton House tittered, either amused or shaken at the blatant reference to the school and to themselves.

  “There she was—a young, beautiful bride to a handsome, wealthy man. As soon as they were married, Frank brought his bride to his family home of Hemston!” Athena declared.

  This time it was the Hemston House girls who whispered and clutched each other.

  Athena was doing a fantastic job of scaring the girls, gently leading them into the story of the ill-fated Polly Pearl. Our year, I’d been scared senseless. The older girls had been meaner than we were, and had pushed us along, whispering and making spooky noises.

  “But,” Athena said, dropping her voice to a low murmur.

  I could have heard a pin drop in the tunnel. She held every single person’s—including all us older girls’ who knew the story inside and out—unwavering attention in the palm of her manicured hand. “The young lovers were about to discover that love doesn’t last forever, and it doesn’t conquer all…especially…death. When Frank brought Polly to Mapleton Manor, he sealed her fate! You see,” Athena said as she took a few slow steps backwards, almost reaching the end of the tunnel. Beyond her, the swollen full moon that hung in the dark sky was reflected in the still, glassy surface of the lake. “Polly had another passion besides her new husband. Polly enjoyed swimming, and every morning she would walk this very tunnel to swim in this very lake.”

  Athena glanced over her shoulder at the lake before turning to the girls with a sad, mournful smile on her lips. “She wasn’t to know that the very thing she loved most about Mapleton Manor would be the end of her. For one morning, Polly would follow her usual path through this tunnel towards the lake…she would enter the water…but she would never leave it alive.”

  There was a collection of gasps that echoed around the tunnel.

  “No one really knows what happened,” Athena said. “But it was known that Polly was a strong swimmer, and she knew this lake well. There wasn’t any proof, but around the Ville, it was believed that she was…murdered!” Athena shouted the last word, making the girls directly in front of her jump and squeak with fright.

  She took another step away, and the older girls at the rear of the tunnel ushered the crowd of frightened First Formers deeper inside like lambs to the slaughter.

  “Poor, young Polly’s life was cut short while she was in her prime. She was buried in Mapleton Manor churchyard in her very best gown, a symbol to how she lived her life and always looked her best.” Athena dipped her chin as if in sadness for the demise of Polly Pearl. “They say that once a year Polly Pearl emerges from her watery grave to wander the grounds of Mapleton Manor once more. They say that she can be seen in her very best gown, searching for her way back to her husband, Frank Norton. And the night that she returns…is on the eleventh day of the eleventh month at the eleventh hour…tonight!” Athena exclaimed her last word, bringing her candle up slightly so that her breath blew it out, eliminating what little light it had provided.

  The girls tittered and huddled closer together, and I could practically smell their fear. My own pulse was hammering—Athena was an exceptionally good storyteller. It was no wonder she excelled at theatre and helped run the drama department.

  A good ten seconds passed where nothing happened as we let the tension really amp up before the big finale.

  Harriet, dressed in a vintage ball gown we’d found in a charity shop, jumped in front of the mouth of the tunnel and let out a ghostly wail. She moaned and ran at full speed towards the group of girls, rushing past them as they screamed and darted out of her way. She disappeared out of the other end of the tunnel, leaving a bunch of terrified First Formers in her wake.

  As their screams died down, we older girls pulled out the torches stashed in our pockets and turned them on, flooding the tunnel with light. Most of us couldn’t contain our laughter, but it didn’t come from a place of malice.

  “Come on girls, this way, this way,” Athena said on a laugh as she gestured for them to follow her out. “Well, girls, you have officially survived Polly Pearl night!”

  The atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Now that they knew they were no longer face to face with the real Polly Pearl, the First Formers were in tremendous spirits. They laughed in girlish, high-pitched squeaks and hopped around like they had ants in their pants.

  All but one.

  Jessica stood a ways back from the rest of her peers. She wrapped her arms around her middle and her face was pale. Leaving my friends, I walked over to Jessica and placed my hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you all right, Jessica?” I asked her.

  Jessica peered up at me with her big blue eyes widened in shock. “I’m not— I didn’t…”

  My heart just melted for the girl. There had been one or two in my year who’d also got a more serious fright than the rest of us had. And they had been teased mercilessly for it. I shifted around so that I shielded her from everyone else with my body. “Polly Pearl night is like a rite of passage for every Mapleton Manor girl. We don’t do it to be horrible…it’s more like keeping up tradition as we initiate the newcomers to the school.”

  Jessica nodded but didn’t seem convinced.

  “Did you get a really big fright?”

  She nodded again. “I don’t like scary things like that.”

  “Not many people do, but it’s just a bit of fun. And do you want to know the best bit? The bit that will make the horrible feelings about tonight go away?” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “In a few years, it will be you leading out the new First Formers for their Polly Pearl night. Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn.”

  At this Jessica cracked a small smile, which only widened the more she thought on it. “That does sound fun.”

  “It’s brilliant fun.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and steered her back towards my friends, who were dishing out the sweets and drinks for the rest of the night’s festivities. “We’d better hurry before they give out all the good stuff.”

  “I hope there are some Dip Dabs left,” Jessica said, flashing me a timid smile.

  I let out a laugh and squeezed her to me. “Oh, Jessica, you will soon discover that I almost inevitably have at least one Dip Dab on me at all times.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the sweet and handed it to her.

  Jessica giggled and took it with thanks. “You’re pretty awesome, Freddie. Thank you. I’m really glad that I’m your shadow.”

  “No problem,” I said, smiling. We reached Fenella and Cassandra, who were dishing out packets of sweets. I took a handful from the bag and gave them to Jessica. “Go give some of these to your friends, you’ll be the hero for blagging extra sweets for them.”

  She nodded and hurried off to a small cluster of First Formers.

  “Well, someone definitely has a crush, don’t they, Freddie?” Jemima asked as she approached me.

  I shrugged. “Maybe a little. Can’t be helped sometimes, I suppose.”

  “Of course not. Everyone loves you, right?” She didn’t say it as a question, and she said it with a smile on her face, though I couldn’t help but get the impression that she meant it as a slight. Jemima snatched a Mars bar from Fenella and Cassandra’s stash and headed off towards the lake.

  Once all the First Formers had been supplied with enough sweets to rot a hundred teeth, a few older girls escorted them back to their Houses. The rest of the Sixth Formers made our way to the lake where we had stashed a ton of camping chairs earlier in the day.

  Someone had already lit the campfire, and a few girls were clustered around it, warming their hands near the flames. The lake was far enough away from the school that no one would be able to spot the campfire, and the Housemistresses would assume that we had sneaked back into our own rooms along with the First Formers. Our beds were stuffed too, just in case any of them felt the
need to check.

  We passed around the alcohol and cigarettes and settled into our chairs. The others soon returned, and our party began.

  It wasn’t long before the truth or dare games started, and they only grew more outrageous the more alcohol we drank. The dares ranged from silly—a tongue twister rhyme or hold a handstand for twenty seconds—to the traditional humiliating ones—streaking, get caught picking your nose in class and being the first girl to ask a boy to dance at the end of the year dance. No girl ever asked a boy to dance. Ever. It just wasn’t the done thing.

  There were never any dares involving the lake. Instead of being a smooth, crystalline clear expanse of water, it was murky, stodgy and disgusting. And it always had a weird greenish film on the surface of it. No girl would ever use it in a dare for another girl. It was bad taste, and the only rule agreed by everyone.

  The alcohol started to take effect and someone had the idea to break out the ghost stories. Of course, being at boarding school together, many of us going back to prep school days, we’d heard every possible ghost story at least a hundred times.

  It didn’t matter, and we didn’t care that we knew the stories backwards. It was about the atmosphere, and the bonding of friendships as we tried to scare the other girls silly. Plus, a few girls, Athena included, made the telling of the story scary, not the story itself. They had a rare gift of pulling in their audiences and having them eating out of the palm of their hand.

  I had no idea what time it was when we crept back into the Sixth Form Centre. All I knew was that I had to keep one eye shut so I could see the steps of the ladder properly, and I was far too tired to undress for bed.

  Somehow, in my tipsy state, I had the good sense to take off my wellies before climbing into my bed.

  Time seemed to disappear like water down the drain. After Polly Pearl night, it felt like I had only blinked and the term was over. As well as crazy coursework to keep me busy, I’d also had a weeklong trip to Barcelona and also one to Madrid, picking up another few wristbands along the way. Fenella and I had gone mad in Madrid. One afternoon when we had been allowed some free time and were set loose to investigate, we’d found this incredible little boutique in a quiet side street. It had been full of one-of-a-kind clothes and the most beautiful dresses. And the best part was they’d been an absolute steal!