by Enid Blyton
‘These kids have no staying power,’ Millicent complained to Anne, when the rehearsal was over. ‘They simply can’t stick at anything.’
Anne, who had been on the verge of walking out herself on more than one occasion, said nothing. Millicent was so thick-skinned that she simply couldn’t see that if only she would treat her orchestra with a little more respect and kindness she would get better results.
Jessie had played the cello, and Millicent knew that there were only two other girls in the school who played that instrument – Lizzie, of the third form and Belinda of the fourth.
As Lizzie was the better player, Millicent approached her first. But, out of loyalty to her friend Kathy, Lizzie flatly refused to be part of the orchestra.
‘No thanks,’ she said shortly. ‘I don’t want to give up my free time only to be shouted at and humiliated, as poor Kathy was. And now you have driven Jessie away too. If you’re not careful, Millicent, you won’t have an orchestra left to conduct!’
Millicent smarted at Lizzie’s words, but they sank in, and she made up her mind to be a little less hard on the players.
Belinda, who had heard about Jessie’s resignation, and also knew that Millicent had asked Lizzie to replace her, wasn’t at all pleased to be third choice. But, with Lizzie’s words in mind, Millicent was unusually humble when she spoke to the girl, and soon Belinda found herself feeling sorry for the fifth former and agreed to take Jessie’s place in the orchestra.
The fifth form knew of Millicent’s troubles, of course, for word travelled fast, but few of them had much sympathy to spare for her. They thought that she only had herself to blame. Besides, they had other things to worry about, for the thief had struck again.
Poor Nora was most upset to discover that her watch, which had been a present from her parents, had gone missing. And Julie was very puzzled indeed when her purse disappeared.
‘It was empty,’ she told some of the others, as they sat on the lawn one sunny afternoon. ‘Not so much as a penny in it, for I’m quite broke until my people send me some money next week.’
‘Why on earth would someone steal an empty purse?’ said Susan.
‘Perhaps the thief didn’t realise it was empty when she took it,’ said Felicity.
‘Well, that will have been one in the eye for her,’ said Pam, with satisfaction. ‘Gosh, wouldn’t I have loved to see her face when she opened your purse, Julie, only to find nothing there!’
‘Yes, but everyone in our form knew that you were broke, Julie,’ said Lucy, who had been looking thoughtful. ‘You were complaining about it in the common-room only the other night, remember?’
‘That’s right,’ said June. ‘And you were complaining jolly loudly, too, so we all heard you!’
‘Not all of us,’ said Freddie. ‘Only those of us who were in the common-room that evening.’
‘Let’s think,’ said Nora. ‘It was Friday evening. Who was missing?’
‘Delia and Gillian,’ said Felicity. ‘Gillian had gone to practise her violin, and Delia went with her.’
‘Millicent was missing, too,’ said June. ‘I remember her saying that she had been so wrapped up in her composing and orchestra rehearsals that she was quite neglecting her practice, so she went off to one of the music-rooms as well.’
‘I think we can rule out Millicent,’ said Susan. ‘She’s hardly likely to take her own purse.’
‘Unless she is trying to throw us off the scent,’ said Bonnie.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Pam.
‘Well, Millicent may have been pretending that she had her purse stolen,’ answered Bonnie. ‘So that we wouldn’t suspect her of being the thief.’
‘Well, in that case I could be the thief too,’ said Amy. ‘I wasn’t in the common-room when Julie said that she had no money, for Matron had sent for me. So I could easily have pretended that my perfume had been stolen, then taken Julie’s purse.’
But no one seriously suspected Amy. The girl had her faults, but she wasn’t dishonest. Besides, Amy’s parents were wealthy, and she always had as much money as she wanted, so there was no need for her to steal.
Yet the one thing that seemed to hold no attraction for the thief was Bonnie’s sparkly brooch. It had lain untouched on her bedside cabinet for several days now, and, lowering her voice, Bonnie murmured to Amy, ‘It’s so ugly that no one even wants to steal the beastly thing!’
‘Well, at least we know that our thief has good taste,’ said Amy, with a laugh. ‘She took my expensive perfume, yet won’t touch your horrid little brooch!’
‘Yes, it’s a pity,’ said Bonnie. ‘For that would have trapped her nicely. If only we could find something a little more tasteful that we could catch her out with.’
Amy snapped her fingers suddenly. ‘But we can!’ she said. ‘The thief has my perfume, Bonnie. And what is the use of stealing a bottle of perfume if one isn’t going to wear it.’
‘Of course!’ said Bonnie, her eyes lighting up. ‘Well done, Amy. Perhaps all we have to do is follow our noses. We’ll concentrate on Millicent, Delia and Gillian for now, as they are the three who were absent when Julie was talking about having no money.’
Millicent was extremely irritated that evening when Bonnie sat down next to her in the common-room that evening and began to sniff noisily. The girl was reading a book about great composers, and Bonnie was ruining her concentration. At last she flung she book aside, and said crossly, ‘Bonnie, must you do that?’
‘Sorry, Millicent,’ said Bonnie, giving another loud sniff. ‘I think I have a cold coming on.’
‘Well, for heaven’s sake use a handkerchief!’ said Millicent. ‘Or better still, go and sit somewhere else.’
Bonnie was finished with Millicent anyway, for all she had been able to smell was the faint scent of soap and talcum powder. Quite pleasant, but nothing like the strong, distinctive scent of Amy’s perfume. She went across to join her friend, who had just been speaking to Delia and Gillian, and was now looking rather glum.
‘Well, neither Delia nor Gillian are wearing my perfume,’ Amy sighed. ‘All I could smell on Gillian was shampoo, and Delia didn’t seem to smell of anything at all. How about Millicent?’
‘No, Millicent wasn’t wearing your perfume either,’ said Bonnie. ‘Although, now that I come to think of it, the thief might think it was too risky to use the perfume at school. She might have decided to take it home and wear it during the hols.’
Amy didn’t look at all pleased at this thought, but brightened when Bonnie said, ‘Cheer up! There are still several weeks to go before we break up, which leaves plenty of time for the thief to slip up. So there is still a chance that you may get your perfume back untouched.’
But the thief didn’t slip up over the next few days. Pam lost her best fountain pen, and June was simply furious when a tie-pin that she had bought for her father’s birthday was taken. June always hated the thought of anyone getting one over on her, and she took the theft very hard indeed.
‘I’ll find out who it is, you see if I don’t!’ she vowed to Freddie. ‘And when I do, my gosh I’ll make her sorry.’
‘Yes, but what on earth would a schoolgirl want with a tie-pin?’ asked Freddie, puzzled. ‘I mean to say, it can’t be any use to her at all.’
‘Perhaps the thief means to give it to her father as a present,’ said June grimly.
‘You know, June, I don’t often agree with Amy, but perhaps she is right and we ought to report this to the Head,’ said Freddie. ‘It really is going too far now, with something vanishing almost every day.’
June heartily agreed that the thief was going too far, and getting much too sure of herself, but she still felt reluctant to report the matter to Miss Grayling. Much better, she thought, if the fifth form could have the satisfaction of catching the thief themselves, and then hauling her before the Head!
Something very surprising happened the following day. The girls had just gone down to breakfast, but, as she reached the bottom of
the stairs, Bonnie realised that she had forgotten her handkerchief, and, as she had the beginnings of a horrid summer cold, went back up to the dormitory to fetch it. And then what a shock she got! For the brooch that she had put out to catch the thief was gone!
The girl almost quivered with excitement, for she had quite given up hope of the thief falling into her trap. But now it seemed that she had. And it would be an easy matter, at the breakfast table, to take a look at everyone’s hands and see whose was covered in the tell-tale glitter. Bonnie couldn’t be certain whether the brooch had been there when she had woken up, for she had forgotten to look. It could have been taken overnight, or perhaps someone had sneaked it off the cabinet while the fifth formers were getting ready for breakfast. That would have been an easy matter, for there was always a lot of to-ing and fro-ing first thing in the morning, with girls in and out of the bathroom all the time.
Hastily, Bonnie stuffed her handkerchief into her pocket and made her way down to the dining-room, where she slipped into her seat, between Pam and Amy. Quickly, she whispered to both girls, telling them what had happened.
They were most astonished, and Pam said in a low voice, ‘Well, it looks as if we are about to catch our thief.’
‘But what if she has washed the glitter off her hands?’ whispered Amy.
‘It’s awfully hard to get off,’ said Bonnie. ‘No matter how you scrub. When I handled it the other day I still had little specks stuck to my fingers the next day.’
‘I say, Delia!’ said Pam, raising her voice. ‘Pass the marmalade, would you?’
Delia did so, and Pam took the opportunity to take a good look at her hands. They were spotless, and Pam turned to Bonnie and Amy, giving a quick shake of her head.
Over breakfast the three girls had an opportunity to inspect the hands of all of the fifth formers, even those that they were certain were quite innocent. But, by the time the meal was over, they were no further forward, for none of the fifth formers had so much as a speck of glitter on her hands.
‘Well, I’m baffled!’ said Pam, as she left the dining-room with Bonnie and Amy. ‘Bonnie, are you absolutely certain that the brooch was in its usual place when you went to bed last night?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Bonnie with a firm little nod. ‘But I can’t be sure whether it disappeared overnight, or this morning.’
‘So much for our trap!’ said Amy disconsolately. ‘What a let-down.’
‘Not entirely,’ said Bonnie with a smile. ‘At least I have got rid of that dreadful brooch!’
Pam laughed at that, and said, ‘Well, at least something good has come out of this awful business for you, Bonnie. But the thief is still running rings round us. I’m afraid that, if we can’t clear this matter up ourselves very soon, we really will have no choice but to report it to Miss Grayling.’
Bonnie’s cold seemed to grow steadily worse during the first lesson, which was French. Mam’zelle Dupont noticed that the girl, who was one of her favourites, was sneezing rather a lot.
‘Are you ill, ma petite?’ she asked, kindly.
‘Oh, it’s just a little cold, Mam’zelle,’ said Bonnie, smiling bravely. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
Then she gave the most enormous sneeze, so loud that Freddie, sitting next to her, said afterwards that it almost blew her papers off the desk.
‘Tiens! ‘ cried Mam’zelle, quite alarmed. ‘This is no little cold, ma chère Bonnie, this is a great big cold, for it makes you do a great big sneeze. You must go to Matron at once!’
Bonnie wasn’t very thrilled at the thought of going to Matron, whose remedy for colds was a large dose of extremely nasty-tasting medicine. But she did so hate having a cold, for it made her nose red and her eyes water. So, looking rather brave and pathetic, she smiled wanly at Mam’zelle, and walked from the classroom.
Matron was scolding a rather sullen looking first former when Bonnie found her in the San, saying in her brisk, no-nonsense voice, ‘Come now, Ruth, don’t be such a baby! The sooner you take your medicine, the sooner you can get out of here and go back to your class.’
Just then, Bonnie gave another loud sneeze, and Matron turned sharply, saying, ‘Goodness me, not another one with this troublesome summer cold that’s going round! Well, Bonnie, perhaps you can set an example to young Ruth here, and take a dose of medicine without complaining.’
‘Of course, Matron,’ said Bonnie, glancing at Ruth, who looked as if she was about to burst into tears at any second. Bonnie didn’t feel very happy either, but she certainly wasn’t going to let herself, or her form, down by making a fuss in front of a first former.
So Bonnie swallowed the spoonful of medicine that Matron gave her in one gulp, even managing not to grimace at the unpleasant taste.
‘Not too bad at all,’ she said, smiling at Ruth. ‘Do you know, I think that I feel better already.’
Heartened by this, Ruth screwed up her courage and also swallowed a spoonful of the medicine, but she failed to hide her disgust as well as Bonnie had, and screwed up her face.
‘Here,’ said Matron, reaching into a big glass jar on her desk. ‘Have a barley sugar to take the taste away.’
Ruth accepted the sweet eagerly, and went off back to her class, while Bonnie said to Matron, ‘Aren’t you going to offer me a barley sugar, Matron?’
‘Certainly not!’ cried Matron. ‘I keep them for the younger girls, but certainly don’t hand them out to fifth formers.’
Then her face creased into a smile, and she said, ‘Oh, very well, Bonnie. As you helped me get Ruth to take her medicine, I suppose you have earned one.’
Matron handed the girl a sweet, and that was when Bonnie noticed something very strange indeed. Something that shocked her so much that she could hardly believe her eyes. For Matron’s fingers were speckled with glitter!
13
A shock for Bonnie
Bonnie felt so stunned that, afterwards, she was quite unable to remember saying goodbye to Matron, or walking back to the classroom. But, somehow, she found herself back at her desk, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at her in concern.
‘Are you all right, Bonnie?’ asked Freddie anxiously. ‘You look awfully pale.’
Mam’zelle, too, was worried about her favourite, and cried, ‘Ah, what is Matron thinking of to send you back to your lesson in this state? You should be in bed, in the San!’
‘Oh no, I am quite all right, Mam’zelle,’ said Bonnie, pulling herself together. ‘It’s just that the medicine Matron gave me tasted so very horrid that it quite upset me.’
Mam’zelle seemed satisfied with this explanation, and Bonnie did her very best to concentrate, though it was very difficult. How on earth was she to tell the fifth form that their kindly, beloved Matron was a thief? And would they even believe her?
At break-time Bonnie dragged a very surprised Amy into a corner of the courtyard and, having looked all around to make sure that they could not be overheard, said in a low voice, ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘I knew that something was wrong when you came back from seeing Matron,’ said Amy, with satisfaction. ‘What is it?’
And then Amy listened, open-mouthed, as her friend told of her shocking discovery. Amy had no great liking for Matron, who had quickly sized her up as vain and spoilt, but even she found it almost impossible to believe that she was a thief.
‘Bonnie, you simply must have made a mistake,’ she said at last. ‘Heaven knows Matron is not my favourite person, but no one could doubt her honesty.’
‘Well, that’s what I thought,’ said Bonnie rather sadly, for she had always had a soft spot for the no-nonsense, yet kindly, Matron. ‘But I saw the glitter on her hands with my own eyes.’
‘Well, you will have a hard job convincing the others that Matron is a thief,’ said Amy heavily. ‘They all think that she is too wonderful for words.’
‘I know,’ sighed Bonnie. ‘Even though I saw the evidence I only half believe it myself. I shall have to tell the others
. I shan’t accuse Matron, or say that she could be the thief. I shall simply say that she had glitter on her hands, which is the truth, and I shall leave it to the fifth formers to reach their own conclusions.’
‘I suppose that is the best thing to do,’ said Amy. ‘When will you tell them?’
‘This evening, when we are all together in the common-room,’ said Bonnie. ‘It’s going to be jolly unpleasant, so I’d rather get it over with as soon as possible.’
So, when the fifth formers gathered in the common-room that evening, Bonnie looked round to make sure that everyone was present. There was the usual buzz of chatter, some of the girls listening to music on the radiogram, others reading and all of them looking happy and contented. Except for Bonnie, who was miserably aware that she was soon about to wipe the smiles from their faces. The girl had wracked her brains throughout the day to think of another explanation as to why Matron’s fingers had been speckled with glitter, but hadn’t been able to come up with anything.
She cleared her throat rather nervously now, and was just about to ask for everyone’s attention when someone rapped smartly at the door. Then it was pushed open and Matron herself entered.
As the girls made to get to their feet, she said in her usual, brisk way, ‘Stay where you are, girls. No need to get up, for what I have to say will only take a moment. This morning, just after you went down to breakfast, I did a quick inspection of your dormitory.’
‘Heavens, Matron,’ said Pam, looking alarmed. ‘Don’t say that someone forgot to make her bed.’
‘No, I am pleased to say that everything was as neat as a new pin,’ said Matron. ‘Exactly as I should expect from fifth formers. There was only one thing out of place, and it was this.’
Matron reached into the big pocket of her starched, white apron and pulled something out. She stretched out her hand, and Bonnie and Amy exchanged startled glances, for in her palm lay something which sparkled and glittered.
‘My brooch!’ cried Bonnie.
‘Ah, it is yours!’ said Matron, handing it to Bonnie. ‘I wondered if it might be, for I found it on the floor, in between your bed and Amy’s.’