Naughtiest Girl 8: Well Done, The Naughtiest Girl

by Enid Blyton

  ‘It’s all right for Elizabeth,’ she said to Jenny one day. ‘But Arabella’s going to come badly unstuck at this rate. You know how hard she has to work, just to stand still!’

  ‘And she’s already the oldest in the form, as it is,’ agreed Jenny. ‘She should have gone into the second form ages ago. What would happen if she didn’t pass her exams? Would they have to keep her down again?’

  ‘Miss Ranger says there’s no point in anyone going into the second form if they can’t do the work when they get there,’ replied Belinda.

  ‘They’re both going crazy, if you ask me,’ said Jenny. ‘Even Elizabeth. I don’t think she liked us teasing her about slipping down the form order but it could be a bit more serious if she doesn’t watch out!’

  In Elizabeth’s own mind, of course, it was already serious. Over the next ten days, she woke up each morning fully intending to find time to go to her secret hideout in the oak tree. ‘I must do some work for the exams today,’ she would tell herself.

  But, apart from a session on the Sunday afternoon, she never did find time.

  The end of summer term was always hectic. There was compulsory strawberry picking to do in the school gardens. There were the knockout tennis tournaments, with all children expected to play in their different age groups. Of course, Elizabeth loved these activities. She loved it when she got to the semi-final of the first form tournament. But it only left time for her vital piano practice and nothing else.

  ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you lately,’ she told the friendly little robin, on the Sunday. ‘You’ll see more of me next weekend, when I’ve got this piano business out of the way. You will see me then, I can tell you!’

  In her heart, Elizabeth knew that by then it might be much too late. The exams began on the Monday! But she could no longer bear to think about them. Lately, she had begun to console herself with a new thought.

  ‘I can’t possibly be made to stay down in the first form, like a baby, if I’m chosen to play at the Leavers’ Concert. It’s going to be such a grown-up occasion this year, with a real concert pianist coming. Even if I don’t do very well in the exams, surely Miss Ranger won’t mind?’

  So, even on the Sunday, it only needed the distant notes of Arabella’s piece starting up to bring Elizabeth scooting down from the oak tree and back indoors to the piano.

  By the time both girls had taken their last piano lessons of term with Mr Lewis, interest in the first form had reached fever pitch.

  ‘How did you get on in your lesson, Elizabeth?’ asked Daniel Carter, who had been helping her to practise by turning the pages. Unfortunately Julian had refused. He claimed not to be able to read music. He felt she was now overdoing things.

  ‘Fine,’ she replied, confidently. ‘I’ve sorted out that end bit now.’

  Martin asked Arabella the same question the next day. He had been taking it in turns with Rosemary to be Arabella’s page-turner.

  ‘Mr Lewis seemed very pleased with me,’ replied Arabella.

  Julian started a sweepstake on the result of the contest, with the children putting in sweets for money.

  ‘Five sweets for four if Arabella Buckley wins,’ he announced. ‘Three sweets for two if the Naughtiest Girl does.’

  Their classmates were all finding it very exciting.

  But when the summons from Mr Lewis finally came, the two girls themselves were pale with tension.

  It was after tea on the Wednesday.

  ‘Put your music case on the table there, Elizabeth, next to Arabella’s,’ he said, as she came into the music room. ‘I must decide which order you will play in.’

  He let both girls run through a few scales, to loosen up. Then he looked at his watch.

  ‘Would you like to play in alphabetical order?’ he asked, with a smile. ‘You first, Elizabeth.’ He meant alphabetically by surname of course. Allan first, then Buckley.

  With Mr Lewis turning the pages for her and Arabella seated quietly near the door, Elizabeth solemnly played her piece.

  She made no mistakes and put fine expression into it.

  ‘Well done,’ nodded Mr Lewis. ‘Now you, Arabella, please.’

  Looking neat and tidy, as usual, her fair hair brushed and gleaming, Elizabeth’s rival took over at the piano. Mr Lewis straightened her music for her.

  Now it was the Naughtiest Girl’s turn to sit very still and listen.

  During the past two weeks, she had heard snatches of Arabella’s piece a great many times. She had heard some of the more difficult passages being played over and over again. She knew it was a lovely melody but only now, as she heard it through from beginning to end, did she realize just how lovely. It was a pastoral piece, longer and more difficult than Elizabeth’s own, and played with deep expression.

  For a brief time, listening to the music, Elizabeth quite forgot it was Arabella playing and their intense rivalry. She found herself, instead, feeling dreamy, with visions of fields and hedgerows and little wooded hills floating through her mind . . .

  Even so, it was still a crushing disappointment when the decision came—

  With a brief Well done to Arabella, Mr Lewis walked straight over to Elizabeth and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. In that moment, she knew that she had lost the contest.

  ‘You played beautifully, Elizabeth. But I have made up my mind now. I think we should give Arabella the chance to perform that in public. It distresses me that we cannot have more than one person from each form this year. You deserve to be in the concert after all your hard work. But there it is.’

  Arabella was still seated at the piano. She seemed transfixed, radiant. She had surpassed herself. Her own performance had surprised even her.

  Elizabeth at once walked across and shook her hand.

  ‘Congratulations,’ she said. To hide her disappointment, she gave a wobbly little smile.

  For once Arabella did not gloat. She seemed to be in a happy daze.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, politely.

  ‘Thank you, Elizabeth,’ echoed Mr Lewis. ‘You may leave now if you wish.’

  As the music master started to discuss with the other girl the arrangements for the concert, Elizabeth turned her face away and hurried to the door.

  She wanted to flee now!

  She grabbed the nearer of the two brown leather music cases, not realizing that it was Arabella’s. Then she scooped up her music and without even pausing to put it in the case, she shot out into the corridor.

  She ran all the way upstairs to dormitory six.

  She angrily hurled both the music and the leather case under her bed. Then she flung herself on top of the bed in despair.

  Lying there, she could see the pile of school books standing on her white-painted chest of drawers. Standing there accusingly. It was all her revision, still waiting to be done.

  She was not going to be in the concert, after all.

  And now she was going to fail her exams!

  CHAPTER SIX

  Julian learns the truth

  ‘CHEER UP, Elizabeth! Have some sweets!’ said Julian, as soon as she came downstairs. He produced handfuls of barley sugars and toffees and liquorice allsorts from his bulging trouser pockets. ‘Just look what I made on my sweepstake!’

  Elizabeth smiled weakly.

  Everybody had been very kind.

  Joan had been first into the dormitory to comfort her.

  ‘You gave it your very best, Elizabeth. Nobody can do more than that. I’m proud of you. Now all we can do is accept the result.’

  Other girls had come into the dormitory and said lots of nice things. Then her friends had dragged her outside and hustled her downstairs.

  ‘Julian’s looking for you, Elizabeth!’

  ‘He made lots of sweets out of the swee
pstake. Now he wants to share them out with everybody.’

  ‘Come on, Elizabeth, you mustn’t brood! Julian wants you to have first pick!’

  Elizabeth plucked a favourite stripey allsort from Julian’s hand. She popped it in her mouth. Then she chose two black ones and put them in her pocket. Everybody cheered. Then, grabbing sweets themselves, they all hurried off to their evening activities, laughing and chatting happily. The contest between Elizabeth and Arabella was over. It had been very exciting while it lasted!

  Elizabeth and Julian were left alone.

  From another pocket he produced two extra special expensive-looking chocolates, in crinkly gold foil wrappings. He was determined to cheer Elizabeth up.

  ‘Come on. Have one of these. You’ve worked too hard. Need to get your strength back, Elizabeth!’

  ‘Who put these in the kitty?’ she asked. She unwrapped the chocolate and popped it in her mouth. ‘Mmm. Delicious.’

  ‘Arabella! She backed you to win. A sort of insurance policy, I suppose. She’s lost them now.’

  ‘Oh, well. That’s some consolation,’ sighed Elizabeth. She looked at her friend, in mild curiosity. ‘However did you end up with so many sweets, Julian? How did you work it all out?’

  ‘Simple,’ he shrugged. ‘Nobody much likes Arabella but everybody likes you. So I made your odds more tempting than hers and guessed everybody would want to back the bold, bad Elizabeth!’

  ‘But you didn’t think I would actually win?’ realized Elizabeth, her face falling.

  She had never seen Julian blush before.

  ‘I had a little listen, a couple of times,’ he confessed. ‘It was a great surprise but I thought Arabella just had the edge on you.’

  ‘She did,’ admitted Elizabeth. ‘You were right.’

  She looked sad as she spoke. Julian at once tugged her by the hand.

  ‘Come and see what I’ve got to show you. I’ve been keeping them a surprise. I want to know what you think. I’ve been busy, too, you know!’

  He led her along to the craft room. Two or three boys and girls were working on their hobbies, completely engrossed. Otherwise, it was empty. Julian led the way to his drawer, in the corner. He took something out, wrapped in tissue paper.

  ‘Look!’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Do you like them?’

  It was Mother Bear and Father Bear.

  They were completed. Julian had sawn the piece of weathered oak in two and stripped off the remaining bark. From the natural shapes of the two pieces he had wrought a pair of carved animals. Father Bear was thick bodied and heavy jowled, with a stern but wise expression. The name WILLIAM was carved at the base. Mother Bear had a gentle face, full of kindness and understanding. Her name had been carved, too: RITA.

  The wood had been sanded with great care, then polished until it gleamed. The carvings had taken Julian many hours to complete.

  Elizabeth stared at them, in silence.

  Julian was so clever. They were beautiful.

  But as she looked at those two names, William and Rita, her own misery resurfaced. It gnawed at her.

  William and Rita were leaving next week. Julian had used his time wisely. Now he had a beautiful memento to give them. The beautiful memento that she had been planning to give them, her music at the Leavers’ Concert, had come to nothing.

  She had not used her own time wisely. She had used it stupidly. Now she had nothing to give William and Rita. Instead, she might well fail the exams next week and be kept down in the first form like a baby.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Julian, glancing at her scowling face. He felt very hurt. ‘Don’t you like them? Don’t you think they’re any good?’

  ‘It’s not that, Julian!’

  ‘Why are you sulking, then?’

  Elizabeth could not bear Julian to think she was sulking, or jealous in any way.

  ‘The carvings are lovely, Julian. I think you are very clever. It’s just that – oh, I’ve been so stupid—’

  Suddenly tears sprang to Elizabeth’s eyes and without warning she found herself blurting out her secret fears to Julian.

  He looked at her in amazement.

  ‘I am sure Miss Ranger did not mean it about keeping you down!’ he exclaimed. ‘She was just trying to make you work hard and catch up—’

  ‘But I haven’t worked hard and I haven’t caught up!’ said Elizabeth, in despair. ‘And now there’s no time left and it’s hopeless . . .’

  ‘Of course it’s not hopeless, you goose.’ He took hold of Elizabeth’s arm and led her out of the craft room and into the corridor. He had a feeling that people could hear them, in there! ‘Look, if you’re really taking this work business seriously, you’d better dash off and do some right now. At least that will make you feel better!’ he added, with a grin.

  He was humouring her. Privately, he thought her fears were silly.

  ‘I will! I will!’ exclaimed Elizabeth. It had been such a relief to tell someone the truth, at last. Julian was so calm about things. She began to feel slightly better. They were quite alone in the corridor now. ‘I’ll go and do my French verbs. I’m going right now. I’ve got a secret place, you see. Oh, Julian,’ she begged. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about this. Promise!’

  ‘I promise. Off you go, then!’

  Julian watched as Elizabeth hurried off with a little skip. He shook his head and smiled to himself. The Naughtiest Girl was always full of surprises. You never knew what was going on in her head. That was one of the things he liked about her.

  Whistling softly to himself, he went back into the craft room and replaced the wood carvings in his drawer. He was just leaving the room again, when someone spoke.

  Daniel had caught snatches of what Elizabeth had been saying earlier. Now, he raised his head from his clay model and spoke to Julian.

  ‘Poor Elizabeth!’ Daniel was a sensitive boy. ‘She’s in a terrible stew about the exams, isn’t she? I’ve never seen her in a state about school work before. It’s silly of her not to have done any swotting.’

  ‘Oh, she’ll cope all right,’ said Julian, airily. ‘And don’t you go noising this about, either. It’s Elizabeth’s private business and you’re a nosey parker!’

  ‘Sorry, Julian.’

  Unfortunately, the very next day Daniel gave Elizabeth’s secret clean away.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Elizabeth has a new worry

  DANIEL DID not mean to blurt out Elizabeth’s private fears. But next morning, after first lesson, he heard some of the others criticizing her.

  ‘Have you ever seen the Naughtiest Girl so gloomy in class?’

  ‘She looks like the cat that’s had the cream taken away!’

  ‘It must be because Arabella won. She’s in a sulk!’

  ‘No, she’s not!’ butted in Daniel, unable to stop himself. ‘She’s worried about the exams, that’s all. She’s fearfully worried!’

  ‘What? Elizabeth? We don’t believe you!’

  ‘It’s true I tell you!’ Daniel was determined to defend Elizabeth’s good name. ‘I heard her telling Julian. She doesn’t want anybody to know but she’s convinced she’s going to fail!’

  This titbit of news passed round the class in the course of the morning. They observed Elizabeth’s behaviour with interest. She certainly seemed very absorbed in lessons today, taking copious notes all the time. When Julian made a paper dart and sent it skidding across her desk, in the middle of French, she barely noticed. Nor did she raise her head at Mam’zelle’s cry.

  Zut alors, Julian!

  The rumours must be true, then. Elizabeth was really worried.

  She was. But her worries were as nothing compared to Arabella’s. After her great triumph of the previous day, she had woken up this morning in a state of panic. When Mi
ss Ranger asked her some simple questions on the English set book, the oldest person in the form got every single question wrong. That was the moment when terror struck at her heart.

  However, Arabella struggling in class was so commonplace that nobody even noticed. For Elizabeth to be having problems was far more noteworthy.

  But by teatime, Elizabeth was in a much more positive frame of mind. Last night, in her secret den, she had revised all her French verbs. She had concentrated hard in lessons today and made lots of notes.

  Straight after tea she would return to the oak tree for a good long session with her English set book. She could study it there, in peace. Miss Ranger had said they must be able to quote from it. She would spend at least an hour there and take extra cheese and biscuits with her, she thought, scooping some up and putting them in her pocket.

  She hurried up to the dormitory to collect her English book.

  She noticed the sheet music flapping about under the bed, where she had hurled it the previous evening. There was to be a Dormitory Inspection tonight.

  ‘I’d better put it away,’ she thought, shamefacedly. ‘I’ve no time for piano practice any more.’

  As soon as she hauled the music case from under the bed and opened it, she realized that she had picked up Arabella’s by mistake! The cases were almost identical but, inside the flap, Arabella had written her name. And there were some chocolate marks, as well.

  ‘When she hid those chocolate peppermints in it!’ Elizabeth thought, disapprovingly. ‘So she must have my case. I’d better go and get it.’

  Arabella was still at tea. Her dormitory was empty.

  Elizabeth quickly found her own music case. It was standing tucked between Arabella’s chest of drawers and her bed. Elizabeth swopped the two cases over. Arabella’s current music was lying loose on top of the chest of drawers. Like Elizabeth, she had not bothered to put it away yet.

  ‘So she’s not even realized we’ve got our cases mixed up!’ thought Elizabeth. ‘Well, as she’s never noticed, I won’t bother to say anything.’