by Anne Digby
STRAW HAT
First published by Penguin Group 1990
This ebook edition first published by Straw Hat 2011
Copyright © Anne Digby, 1990, 2011
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the above publisher, Straw Hat
A Catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
eISBN-13: 978-1-899587-25-4
'Watch out!' yelled Robbie in warning as he stamped violently on the brake pedal . . . There was a horrible jarring sensation in Rebecca's wrist.
If only that deer hadn't leapt out in front of the car as they were driving back to Trebizon for the start of Rebecca's year in the fifth! With tennis and hockey ruled out because of her broken wrist, and Robbie blaming himself for the accident, Rebecca has only her GCSE course work to look forward to.
Until, that is, she meets Cliff. Along with a ghostly figure, a strange cat and a stealthy intruder in Court House, he provides the excitement and intrigue to be expected of the eleventh book in this classic series.
'Dazzling action and intrigue' – BBC Radio 4
'If you haven't already read about Rebecca's adventures, you've a real treat in store' – Girl
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright & Permissions
About this Book
Chapter One Waiting for Rebecca
Chapter Two The Emergency
Chapter Three A Barrier
Chapter Four Shadow in the Moonlight
Chapter Five Cliff – and Robbie
Chapter Six Action Committee!
Chapter Seven Two Discos
Chapter Eight A Magisterial Figure
Chapter Nine The Fur Flies
Chapter Ten Ghostbusting
Chapter Eleven Culprit Number One . . .
Chapter Twelve . . . And Culprit Number Two
Chapter Thirteen Shadows Lifted
The Trebizon Series in Reading Order
More Anne Digby Titles
And Some Other Favourites...
Free Downloads, Facebook & Twitter
ONE
WAITING FOR REBECCA
When Rebecca Mason moved into the top floor of Court House, it didn't strike her as being the least bit ghostly. She arrived back at school, to start life as a Fifth Year, on a golden September evening. The sun's rays slanted in through the little attic window of the cubicle her friends had saved for her. It looked warm and cosy in there: a bed, her own desk and chair; a brown woolly rug on the shiny waxed and polished floorboards; a fitted cupboard in the corner to hang her clothes in.
No ghosts here. There was no reason why there should be. Everyone knew that the ghost story that last year's Fifths had made up, about a jilted Victorian schoolmaster and his ghostly cat, had been a huge practical joke from start to finish. They'd been simply laying the ground for the house Christmas party, when the lights had suddenly gone out and Sarah Turner had burst in. Wearing Moyra Milton's luminous face paints and Mr Barrington's old university gown and mortar board – and carrying a cat!
It hadn't frightened anyone – not even Mara. As for the cat, the Fifths had borrowed the ginger and white from the Douglases in Norris House. Moggy, apart from being fat and sleepy and fluffy (and quite wrong for a ghostly role), was recognized at once, amidst hoots of laughter.
Rebecca smiled at the memory. It wasn't the thought of a Victorian ghost that had ruined her day. It was something much more solid than that.
'That's all the luggage up from the car,' said her father. 'Nice window you've got. A skylight, too. Your own partitioned room, your own desk. You'll be able to get your head down for that GCSE now, won't you?'
'That's about all I will be able to do,' said Rebecca bitterly.
'Cheer up, Becky,' said her mother. 'Shall we put these posters up for you –?'
'It's all right, Mum. Tish or someone can help with all that. I must dash now, I'm hungry. I'll miss tea. They'll all be wondering what on earth's happened to me.'
Her parents looked anxious so Rebecca put on a cheerful face:
'Come on, Dad. I'll come down and see you both off. You've got a long drive back. You'll be tired out!'
'It's certainly been an eventful day,' agreed her father.
Oddly enough, the joke that last year's Fifths had invented about a Court House ghost came into Sue Murdoch's mind on the train. It was early on in the journey. She thought of it in the buffet car, seeing Roberta Jones in there trying to write another of her plays.
It was fun travelling to Trebizon by train.
With the sole exception of Rebecca, 'the six' were all coming back together on the school train this year. They met up at Paddington station and found an empty compartment where they could lounge around and talk and laugh and catch up on everything that had happened in the long summer holidays.
'And how is Rebecca?' Mara Leonodis asked Tish Anderson, who'd been at Rebecca's house that same morning. 'Oh, I wanted so much to come and see her play at Eastbourne but father kept me in Athens. She did brilliantly! And you did brilliantly in your race at Birmingham, Tish. I wanted to fly to England and see you both. It was horrible having to stay in Greece!'
'Poor Mara,' said Sue. 'Having to stay in sunny Greece when she could have been in glorious rain-sodden England.'
They all laughed. It had been a very wet August.
'Rebecca's in great form,' said Tish. 'I expect she'll be back at school before we are, if Robbie does much of the driving.'
Tish had only seen Rebecca for ten minutes while her father dropped off Robbie and all his luggage (and most of Tish's luggage) at the Masons' house in south London. That lot had headed off to the west country by car but with such a load on board there wasn't room for Tish herself, which was why she was on the train.
'How come Robbie hogged a place in Mr Mason's car instead of you, Tish?' asked Margot Lawrence. Robbie Anderson was at Garth College, which was very near Trebizon. They were due back today, too. Sue's brothers, David and Edward, went there as well and were somewhere up the train.
'To do some of the driving,' chipped in Sue.
'And I wish them luck!' grinned Tish. 'Robbie's been like a shipwrecked sailor all holidays, ever since his car packed up. You should have seen him checking over Mr Mason's car the minute we got there! It's only an old hired Ford or something but apparently it goes. Wild horses wouldn't have stopped my brother getting in on the act!'
'Oh, Tish,' said Sue, glancing at her through her spectacles with a slightly schoolmistressy expression.
'Am I being unfair?' laughed Tish.
Rebecca had chatted to Sue on the phone about it.
'You know you are.'
'Don't let's talk about cars,' said Sally (Elf) Elphinstone. She'd noticed a lot of people passing down the train in the last few minutes. 'If we're going to the buffet car we'd better go. Or all the best drinks and crisps will have sold out.'
'Has Robbie's car conked out then?' asked Margot as they walked down the swaying train. 'That nice old car. After all the hard work he did on it!'
'What a shame,' said Mara.
They all managed to squeeze round one table in the buffet car, munched crisps, drank Coke and talked about going on to the top floor at Court House.
'It'll be lovely up there, won't it!' said Elf. 'Right up in the eaves, where all the maidservants used to live in the old days. And we'll each have our own cubie. Talk about gracious living.'
'I want the one n
earest the fire escape,' announced Tish. 'There's a door out on to the balcony, and the fire escape leads down from that balcony. I can sneak out for early morning runs without waking the whole floor up.'
'You're welcome,' said Sue, pretending to shiver. 'According to Moyra it's nothing but draughts in that corner.'
'Tish never feels the cold,' smiled Margot.
Somebody came and settled down heavily at the table across the gangway. With a deep sigh she started scribbling into an exercise book, then sighed again and sat chewing her biro. It was Roberta Jones, a new Fifth Year like themselves but in Norris House.
'Catching up on some coursework?' asked Mara sympathetically.
'Good heavens, no, I'm writing the Christmas house play,' stated Roberta. She was the founder of a middle school drama group and also its mainstay, together with her best friend Deborah Rickard and the Nathan twins Sarah and Ruth. They put on little shows in Norris House from time to time. 'But I'm not satisfied with Debbie's part. She's such a brilliant actress, isn't she, I've got to get it just right.'
'Why don't you write about the Court House ghost then?' Sue called across. 'Good wholesome Christmas entertainment.'
'Brilliant,' agreed Tish, who couldn't stand Debbie Rickard. 'Brilliant part for Debbie.'
'What ghost?' asked Roberta.
'The ghost of a Victorian schoolmaster who haunts the top floor of Court House!' explained Sue. 'Him and his cat. All because of unrequited love. Want a cheese and onion?' She passed the crisp bag.
'Who didn't requite his love?'
'Some maidservant. The most beautiful upstairs maid who ever lived, with a peaches and cream complexion,' said Sue, embellishing the story as she went along. 'She jilted him.'
'She said she preferred his cat to him,' interposed Tish. 'So he went and hanged himself from the rafters – right above the cubie where I'm going to be sleeping . . .'
'Oh, Tish, he didn't!' objected Mara. 'He ran away to sea, taking his cat with him.'
'Oh yes, that's right, I forgot,' apologized Tish. 'Went to sea – but put a curse on her. Said he and his cat would haunt the servants' quarters of Court House for ever more.'
'Hmmm, none of that fits in with the play I'm writing,' yawned Roberta. 'And Debbie wouldn't want to play a beautiful maidservant.'
'We could lend her a mask,' said Tish. 'Or how about the cat?'
'I know you're just trying to help,' said Roberta crossly, 'but would you mind shutting up? I've got to get this finished on the train. I promised Debbie I'd bring it back to school with me. She's dying to read it.'
'There's Curly!' squealed Mara, leaping to her feet. 'Look, the boys are on the train. I never knew!'
Soon the girls were talking to Curly Watson, Mike Brown and Chris Earl-Smith from Garth College, the ghost forgotten.
But the conversation with Roberta was going to have one small repercussion. When she went back to her carriage, she solemnly imparted the story of the Court House ghost to Alice Burridge and Katy Baxter, who were just starting in the Third Year at Trebizon. They'd spent their first two years in Juniper, the junior boarding house, and were now due to move into Court.
And at about four o'clock that afternoon, with their cubicles bagged and unpacking well underway, Tish and the others suddenly heard a funny wailing sound coming from the other side of the glass door that led to the fire escape.
'Whooooooo . . . Whoooo . . .'
They rushed out on to the balcony, just in time to see three figures disappearing down the fire escape, giggling noisily. Alice Burridge, Katy Baxter and Lizzy Douglas, who had been billeted in Court House to be independent of her parents, who ran Norris.
'Clear off, you stupid young idiots!' Tish hollered down. 'Or you'll get a bucket of water over your heads.'
'You're not allowed on this fire escape!' cried Elf.
'It is our fire escape and Third Years are not allowed on it,' shouted Margot.
The friends came back inside, slammed the door shut behind them, and leant against the wall laughing helplessly.
'I've been longing to say that for years!' said Elf gleefully. 'The times it's been said to us!'
'Isn't it just great being Fifth Years?' agreed Tish. 'Aren't we important.'
They explored their new quarters thoroughly and then made some hot chocolate in the little kitchen at the end.
'You were wrong about one thing, Tish,' said Mara. 'Rebecca hasn't got here first, after all.'
When the bell went for tea nearly two hours later, Rebecca still hadn't arrived.
'Whatever's happened to her?' said Sue to Tish, as they all walked across the school grounds to the dining hall in main building. 'She's really late.'
Tish shrugged. 'Maybe Robbie just couldn't bear to stop driving. Maybe they're at Land's End by now. Or maybe he's pranged the car.'
'Hope not,' said Sue drily. 'That wasn't the idea at all, was it?'
'Nope. And they've got my luggage.'
TWO
THE EMERGENCY
Rebecca loved having her parents back from Saudi Arabia on summer leave. She loved being at home again, the terraced house in south London that was let out for the rest of the year. It was fun meeting up with Claire and Amanda, her old friends from comprehensive school, going to a disco with them and catching up on local news. Cliff Haynes had moved to the west country apparently – somewhere near Trebizon!
Of course, the high spot of the summer holidays was Eastbourne – the England Junior Grass Court Championships. Getting accepted for the national event was a new high in Rebecca's remarkable tennis career. It had been tough, battling her way up the computer rankings – but she'd made it.
Her father had booked the hotel just as soon as Rebecca's acceptance arrived.
'Your mother and I like Eastbourne. It'll be a nice little holiday for us while you're enjoying yourself playing tennis.'
Rebecca had simply been amused at that stage to realize that her parents were so out of touch. She wasn't going to Eastbourne to enjoy herself! She had to try and make her mark on the national scene. This was her big chance! She looked forward to it with a tight little feeling in the throat, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. How would she get on? Would she, after all the hassle to get there, simply find herself knocked out in the first round?
However, long before Eastbourne, as her parents drove her to a minor tournament here, a coaching session there, it began to dawn on Rebecca that Mum and Dad were even more clueless than she'd realized. They had no inkling of how high-powered the junior game was these days! How competitive! How much everyone had to put into it, family included.
'I don't know how some of these parents find the time,' her father had said to her in genuine bewilderment, after they'd arrived back at two in the morning from a 16U competition in Wales. ('It'll warm you up nicely for Eastbourne,' Rebecca's coach had told her. 'You must go.')
Another time, starting to knock a ball against the wall at home, after a long practice session at the local club, Mrs Mason had called her into supper and said, in exasperation:
'Rebecca, don't you think that's enough for one day?'
'What about doing some GCSE coursework?' her father said as they ate their supper. 'Miss Welbeck made a point of that.'
'Why can't I see my report?' asked Rebecca. Her parents had been to visit Trebizon's principal at the end of the summer term and had been secretive ever since.
'We'll show you some time,' said her mother evasively. 'We had no idea this tennis took up so much of your time.'
'And ours!' smiled her father.
It was after Eastbourne that things came to a head.
It was one of the wettest tournaments ever, rain stopping play, matches postponed. But Rebecca had a marvellous tournament!
She reached the quarter-finals and even then was only narrowly beaten.
'I almost reached the semi-finals!' she sighed, as they drove back to London. She was glowing with exhilaration; it had been a thrilling few days. 'If only I had! Then I
could have played Rachel Cathcart. We're neck and neck on the computer. We always seem to be. And I've never played her.'
'There's time yet,' said her mother.
Rebecca nodded. They were bound to meet up in the next twelve months. Somewhere. She and Rachel Cathcart. Rebecca intended to get better and better, to go on improving . . .
'We're very proud of you, Becky,' said her father and meant it.
The following day was wet again and Rebecca said:
'Well, at least you haven't got to hang around in the rain today! Lucky I got knocked out, wasn't it!'
It was only a joke, but it caught Mrs Mason off guard.
'It was a bit miserable, wasn't it. We didn't get to the beach once.'
She looked so wistful. Suddenly, guiltily, Rebecca realized it hadn't been much of a little holiday for them after all. But there was more to it than that – and the crunch came that afternoon.
'Mum! Dad! Tish just phoned. It's her big race in Birmingham tomorrow. Can I go and stay with them tonight? Dr Anderson says he'll take us all up in the car tomorrow – so we can watch the race. Can I go to the Andersons? Can you take me?'
'No, I can't!' exploded Mr Mason. 'We've already got one sports star in the family, isn't that enough? I'm supposed to be on holiday!'
'Your father wants to watch the snooker,' scolded Mrs Mason.
Rebecca disappeared off to her room, feeling tearful. Dad suddenly snapping at her like that had come as a nasty surprise. She wanted time to think about it. She sat on her bed and thought about it carefully.
Then her mother came in and put an arm round her shoulders.
'He didn't mean to be angry. But we seem to have been driving all holidays. Hertfordshire's right the other side of London, you know how Daddy hates the M25. The roads are so crowded in England now! Daddy needs a rest. He needs this holiday. He's not as young as he was.'
'It was stupid of me to ask,' said Rebecca. 'I've been really selfish. I've been taking you both for granted. I can just as easily get a coach from Victoria – I'm sure the Andersons can meet me. Robbie's car's packed up but one of them will meet me.'