by Enid Blyton
‘And she shouldn’t have been reading that notebook in the French lesson,’ said Pam, disapprovingly. ‘I shall be having words with dear Millicent later.’
Millicent found that the fifth formers were rather cool towards her for the rest of the day, but simply couldn’t understand why. The orchestra and the competition were all important to her, and, although she could have kicked herself for letting her anger getting the better of her in class, she really didn’t see that there was anything wrong in her treatment of Delia. The girl had made a terrible mistake, and, in Millicent’s view, she had thoroughly earned a good scolding.
Pam spoke to her in the common-room that evening, saying rather scornfully, ‘Not the kind of behaviour one expects from a fifth former, Millicent. It is quite bad enough that you were working on your music, instead of concentrating on your French, but that little outburst of yours was simply disgraceful.’
Millicent turned red, and, becoming defensive, said, ‘I don’t see that there is any need for you to tick me off in front of the whole form, Pam.’
‘Well, you yelled at Delia in front of all of us,’ said Pam, quite reasonably. ‘I really don’t see the difference. And I think that you owe her an apology.’
‘I shan’t apologise!’ said Millicent, growing even redder. ‘Delia is an idiot.’
Bonnie, standing next to Delia, saw that the girl looked close to tears, and pursed her lips. Suddenly she went across to her work-basket and picked up the pennants she had been working on. She had completed two, but the others were half-finished, and she walked across to Millicent, thrusting them at her.
‘Here you are!’ she said. ‘You can finish them off yourself.’
Millicent looked simply flabbergasted, her mouth opening and closing, and she stammered, ‘But, Bonnie, I can’t sew! You know that I can’t! You promised that you would do this for me.’
‘Well, I’ve changed my mind,’ said Bonnie, her little nose wrinkling in distaste. ‘I don’t like the way that you spoke to Delia, and I don’t like you!’
Millicent, who had always thought of Bonnie as a rather weak, childish character, looked most taken aback, while the others watched with grins on their faces. They knew that Bonnie had a very obstinate streak in her nature, and unless Millicent made amends she would not back down.
Millicent looked at the faces around her, some of them scornful, some of them grinning at her discomfort. Gillian was looking at her as if she didn’t like her very much at all, while June had a triumphant little smirk on her face. Suddenly Millicent realised that, if she refused to apologise to Delia, Gillian could decide to leave the orchestra altogether, and she would lose her best violinist. If she made the apology sound sincere enough, perhaps Bonnie would also reconsider, and finish making the pennants.
So Millicent swallowed her pride, and, trying to sound as sincere as possible, said, ‘You are all absolutely right, I have been very unfair to Delia. I so badly want the orchestra to perform perfectly that I sometimes get carried away.’
Then she stepped towards Delia, holding out her hand, and said, ‘Please accept my apology, Delia, old girl.’
Delia, who bore no malice and just felt relieved to be forgiven, seized Millicent’s hand at once, and said, ‘Of course I accept your apology, Millicent. And I hope that you will accept mine for being so stupid and forgetful during rehearsal.’
‘What an ass Delia is!’ whispered June to Freddie. ‘It won’t hurt Millicent to humble herself for once, and admit that she is in the wrong. But Delia has to go and apologise too and spoil it!’
Millicent, although she didn’t feel like it at all, smiled brightly, then looked round at the others, saying contritely, ‘I am sorry that my behaviour in Mam’zelle’s class disgraced the form. You may be sure that it won’t happen again.’
‘Apology accepted,’ said Pam. ‘Now let’s say no more about it.’
So the fifth formers went back to their various activities, and Bonnie took back the pile of sewing, which Millicent had placed on a chair.
‘As you have apologised to Delia, I shall carry on making the pennants,’ she said graciously. ‘But my services are only on loan to you, Millicent, and a repeat of such behaviour means that I shall refuse to carry on sewing the pennants. And next time I shan’t give you another chance.’
Chastened, Millicent went and sat alone in a corner, to read the French poem that Mam’zelle had given her as a punishment. She would much rather have been working at her music, but Millicent was well aware that she had had a lucky escape today, and didn’t want to push Mam’zelle too far, in case she sent her to the Head.
Rather reluctantly, the girl decided that she had better start to pay attention in class, for she needed to devote all of her free time to the orchestra. And if she kept earning beastly punishments like this, she wouldn’t have any free time.
‘Gillian!’ June called out suddenly. ‘I’m organising a tennis practice for the fifth and sixth formers on Saturday afternoon. You’ll come, won’t you?’
‘You bet!’ answered Gillian, with enthusiasm.
The others often marvelled at Gillian’s seemingly boundless energy, for she managed to fit in her orchestra rehearsals and tennis practice – not to mention lessons and prep – without feeling at all worn out.
‘I don’t know how you do it!’ Nora said to her now. ‘Honestly, Gillian, it makes me tired just to look at you sometimes.’
‘That’s because you’re lazy,’ June teased. ‘But Gillian knows that good, hard practice brings rewards. Freddie, I want you there on Saturday, too, my girl. And you two, Felicity and Susan.’
Millicent looked up from her poem, a frown on her face, and said, ‘Just a minute! June, Gillian can’t possibly play tennis on Saturday afternoon, for I was planning to schedule another orchestra rehearsal then.’
‘Hard luck,’ said June, with an unsympathetic shrug. ‘I got in first, so I’m afraid there’s not an awful lot you can do about it.’
Millicent felt her temper rising, but, as she was already in the fifth form’s bad books, she tried to speak calmly, saying, ‘Gillian can play tennis at any time, but I don’t have many opportunities to get the orchestra together as a whole.’
‘My dear Millicent, I’m afraid that really isn’t my problem,’ said June coolly. ‘If Gillian wishes to be on one of the teams, which she assures me she does, it is vital that she attends practice so that I can compare her standard of play with the others.’
Millicent’s air of calm was fast deserting her, but at that moment Julie interrupted, to say, ‘I shouldn’t bother arguing about it, Millicent, for the sixth form has already booked the hall on Saturday afternoon. They are holding some sort of debate.’
‘Well, that would seem to settle that, then!’ said June, quite unable to keep the note of triumph out of her voice. She added kindly, ‘Never mind, Millicent, perhaps you can book the hall for Sunday, instead.’
Scowling angrily at June, Millicent flung down her book, her good intentions of learning the French poem vanishing. The orchestra simply had to rehearse this weekend, especially after their poor showing yesterday, and all that mattered to her now was that she booked the hall for Sunday afternoon.
‘Well!’ said Susan, as Millicent rushed out of the room. ‘It seems as if you are in for a jolly busy weekend, Gillian. What with tennis on Saturday and music on Sunday!’
‘I shall have no free time at all,’ Gillian realised suddenly. ‘I wanted to do some shopping, for I need some new shoelaces, and I so wanted to buy some chocolate, but I shan’t have time now. And I wanted to write some letters to my family and friends at home, too.’
‘Well, Gillian,’ said Nora. ‘I can’t help you with your letters, I’m afraid, but Pam and I are planning on going into the town on Saturday, so we can easily get you the things you want.’
‘Thanks,’ said Gillian gratefully. ‘That’s most awfully kind of you.’
But she had been looking forward to visiting the little shops in town
herself. And it still didn’t solve the problem of how she was to find the time to write her letters home. For the first time, Gillian began to wonder if she had bitten off more than she could chew!
6
The missing notebook
Saturday was a blisteringly hot day, and those fifth formers who were taking part in the tennis practice groaned.
‘We shall all be like limp rags by the time we are finished,’ complained Freddie.
But June wasn’t to be deterred, and said, ‘I’ll ask Cook if we can have some jugs of lemonade to take down to the courts with us. That will refresh us in between games.’
So at two o’clock sharp, the girls trooped down to the tennis courts to begin their practice. Felicity and Susan played doubles against Gillian and Freddie, which June watched with a critical eye, before going off to play singles with one of the sixth formers.
Freddie wasn’t quite as good a player as Felicity or Susan, for her tennis could be a little erratic. But Gillian more than made up for her faults, running all over the court and chasing every ball. Despite their best efforts, Felicity and Susan were beaten, and, afterwards, the four girls sat on the grass drinking lemonade as they watched June playing the sixth-form girl. The big sixth former was obviously suffering from the heat and tiring badly, but June looked as cool as a cucumber, her movements agile and nimble.
‘June’s jolly good, isn’t she?’ remarked Gillian. ‘It’s no wonder that she was made games captain, for she is so strong and determined.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ said Felicity. ‘I think that you and June are pretty evenly matched.’
‘I seem to tire more easily than June,’ said Gillian, whose normally pale complexion had turned pink from the heat. ‘I felt full of beans when we began playing, but by the end I felt as if I had been run ragged.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised,’ said Freddie, sipping her lemonade. ‘I was off my game today, and you had to make up for me.’
‘Are you sure that you aren’t overdoing things, Gillian?’ asked Susan, concerned. ‘You’ve taken an awful lot on, agreeing to be part of the orchestra and a member of the tennis team.’
‘I shall be fine,’ said Gillian, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. ‘It’s just that the heat has exhausted me today. I said that I could do both, and I intend to stick by my word.’
June, coming off court after running rings around the sixth-form girl, joined the others on the grass and poured herself a glass of lemonade.
‘Just what I needed,’ she said, after taking a long gulp. ‘Gillian, you played marvellously, and I have decided that you, Elsie Horton of the sixth and me are going to be our singles players for the upper-school team against Summerfield Hall. Felicity and Susan, I would like you to play doubles. And Freddie…’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Freddie, with an air of gloom. ‘I’m the reserve.’
‘Sorry, old thing,’ said June, giving her a wry smile. ‘But, as games captain, I simply must pick the best players. You don’t really mind, do you?’
Freddie didn’t, for although she would have loved a place on the team, she knew only too well that her play was erratic, and June would have been a poor captain if she had chosen the girl over better players, simply because she was her friend.
‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘At least I get a day out and a ride on the team bus, if we are playing at another school.’
Satisfied that Freddie was not upset, June was in a very good mood indeed. She now had just the team she wanted, as far as the upper school was concerned, and she had a very good idea who she was going to pick for the lower-school team too. Everything was falling neatly into place!
Millicent, meanwhile, was far from happy, for she had lost her notebook. The girl still did not realise that Gillian had picked it up, and had assumed that it must have fallen into her open satchel while she was distracted by Mam’zelle. But Millicent had turned out her satchel and it was nowhere to be seen.
Millicent had searched through her desk, and looked in the common-room, too, but the book seemed to have vanished into thin air. Scratching her head, Millicent decided that she might as well give up, for she was never going to find the notebook. Perhaps it was just as well that Delia hadn’t made many notes, after all, for they would have been lost. Millicent made up her mind that she would get a new notebook, and this time she would jot down her own notes, instead of trusting the job to that foolish Delia.
Someone else who wanted to get hold of the notebook was Delia, for the girl didn’t want Millicent spotting her ‘silly little rhyme’, as she thought of it, and making fun of it, perhaps in front of the others.
So, quite unaware that the book was in Gillian’s possession, Delia thought that Millicent still had it, and went in search of it.
She passed Millicent on her way to the common-room, and noticed that the girl was carrying her purse, but didn’t have her satchel with her. Delia’s heart leapt. Was it possible that Millicent had left her bag unattended in the common-room?
Millicent had, and, what was more, no one was about, for most of the girls were outside enjoying the fine day.
The bag was on an armchair, and Delia bent over it, looking over her shoulder every so often, as she rifled through it. The girl had no intention of stealing the book, for all that she wanted was to tear out that one page.
But her search was fruitless, and, just as she was fastening the satchel up again, Delia heard a noise behind her, and turned to see Julie and Lucy in the doorway. Both girls had just been enjoying a ride, and they were looking forward to a quiet sit-down now.
‘Hello, Delia,’ said Lucy. Then she frowned. ‘Isn’t that Millicent’s bag?’
Delia wasn’t noted for her quick thinking, and she flushed and stammered, as she said, ‘Er – yes, that’s right. I – I noticed that it had come undone, and thought that something might fall out.’
And, with that, she pushed past the two girls and made her way down the corridor, her face a fiery red.
‘Well!’ said Julie, astonished. ‘What do you make of that?’
‘Delia certainly seemed flustered, didn’t she?’ said Lucy. ‘I say, Julie, you don’t think that she was up to no good, do you?’
‘Stealing, you mean?’ gasped Julie. ‘Surely not! Why, Delia has always seemed a very decent sort to me.’
‘Yes, to me, too,’ said Lucy. ‘But you can’t deny that her behaviour was awfully suspicious.’
‘I suppose it was,’ said Julie, biting her lip. ‘But here comes Millicent. She will be able to tell us if anything is missing from her bag. I say, Millicent! Have a look in your bag, and tell us if anything has been taken.’
Startled, Millicent said, ‘Why? What has happened?’
‘Well, we caught someone messing around with it,’ said Lucy. ‘So you had better check it.’
‘Well, if anyone was after anything in my satchel, I suppose it would be my purse,’ said Millicent. ‘And I had that with me, for I had just been to ask Pam and Nora if they could get me a notebook while they were in town. Still, I suppose I had better make sure nothing is missing.’
Quickly, Millicent opened the bag and went through it. At last, she said, ‘No, everything is here. The only thing I can’t find is my notebook, but that went missing several days ago. That’s why I asked Pam and Nora to get me a new one.’
Julie and Lucy both felt very relieved, until Millicent asked, ‘Who was the girl that you caught meddling with it?’
The two girls exchanged glances. Neither of them wanted to mention Delia’s name, especially as it looked as if she hadn’t taken anything, after all, so Julie said, ‘I didn’t get a good look at her, did you, Lucy? She ran out past us as soon as she knew we had spotted her.’
‘That’s right,’ said Lucy. ‘She looked as if she could have been a first or second former.’
‘Well, of all the nerve!’ gasped Millicent. ‘The cheek of those kids! Well, I’ll jolly well make sure I don’t leave my satchel lyi
ng around again.’
‘Phew!’ said Lucy, flopping down into a chair, as Millicent went out again. ‘That was close. Thank goodness we found out that Delia wasn’t trying to take anything, after all.’
‘Well, we can’t be too sure about that, Lucy,’ said Julie, looking thoughtful. ‘Perhaps she was after Millicent’s purse. But Millicent had the purse with her, so if Delia is a thief, it may be that she was just out of luck.’
Gillian was quite unaware of all the drama that was taking place surrounding the notebook. The girl had completely forgotten that she had ever picked it up, and it lay discarded now, in the bottom of her satchel. Her fingers even brushed against it when she reached in her bag for her comb, in the changing-room, after tennis. But Gillian did not notice, nor remember that the book was there, as she went into tea with the others.
Pam and Nora weren’t there, as the two of them had decided to have tea in town, a privilege that the two top forms were allowed.
‘I bet they’ve gone to that nice little tea-shop,’ said Felicity, rather enviously. ‘The one that does the lovely little sandwiches, and those delicious chocolate cakes.’
‘Well, we are not doing too badly,’ said Susan, spreading apricot jam thickly on to a slice of bread and butter. ‘This jam is super. And we’ve got coffee instead of tea, which makes a pleasant change.’
‘I could do with a cup of coffee to keep me awake,’ said Gillian, putting her hand up to her mouth to stifle a yawn. ‘That game of tennis has quite worn me out.’
Millicent overheard this, and she said rather sharply, ‘I do hope you’re not going to be too tired to concentrate on the rehearsal tomorrow, Gillian. As you are the best violinist, you have quite a complicated solo to learn.’
‘I shan’t let you down,’ said Gillian stiffly, nettled by Millicent’s tone. ‘I have been practising the solo all week.’
‘That’s true,’ said Lucy. ‘Julie and I passed one of the music-rooms yesterday afternoon, and there was old Gillian scraping away at her violin for all she was worth. I must say, it sounded jolly good. Did you really write that yourself, Millicent?’