by Enid Blyton
Elizabeth had raced off to the school vegetable gardens. When Julian and Joan caught her up, she was marching up and down one of the little paths.
She walked up and down like that for some minutes, in order to work off her temper.
When at last she grew tired, the three of them sat on a sunny bench, just in front of the greenhouses.
‘Let’s have an apple,’ said Joan, in her gentlest voice.
She picked three rosy apples from one of the little trees nearby. They each took a bite. As Elizabeth tasted the sweet, sharp tang of the fruit, she gazed around sorrowfully. These dear gardens, how she loved them. How she loved helping John Terry with the weeding and planting and hoeing.
Dear Whyteleafe School, the best school in the entire world. What happy times she had had here. But now, surely, it could never be the same again?
‘It’s the worst thing that’s ever been,’ she said miserably. ‘And how did it happen? I just don’t understand. Emma seemed to have so much support. You were wrong for once, Julian! You were so sure that most of the school wouldn’t vote for Kerry, however much they admired her.’
‘I wasn’t wrong at all,’ replied Julian, patiently. ‘You obviously haven’t done your sums, Elizabeth. Most of the school did not vote for Kerry Dane. She only collected about one third of the vote. She always knew that would be the best she could hope for. That was why she got Nora to stand. And that was why she went round persuading people to vote for Nora.’
‘You mean . . . ?’ Elizabeth frowned, trying to work it out.
‘Julian means that Kerry guessed that a majority would never vote to elect a new girl,’ explained Joan. ‘But if she could split that majority in two, as evenly as possible—’
‘She could squeeze through the middle and maybe win!’ finished Julian. ‘And that’s exactly what happened. It was a master stroke, begging people to vote for Nora. It made some of them worry about voting for Emma and change their minds. And it made some of them, who may have been thinking of voting for Emma, but who didn’t have strong principles about not electing a new girl, think “I don’t want to vote for Nora but what a fine person Kerry is. I shall give her my vote.” So she picked up some extra votes for herself as she went along. That’s what made all the difference!’
‘She would never have had a chance, if she’d just stood against Emma,’ sighed Joan. ‘She would have been very soundly beaten. But, as it turned out, she was able to split the vote three ways. What an impossible schemer! I realized what she had done as soon as Thomas read the result out. I felt such contempt for her that I just had to leave the platform, even though a monitor should never do a thing like that. I just had to.’
‘It’s not fair,’ exclaimed Elizabeth. ‘It’s horrific!’
Julian threw his apple core so it landed on John Terry’s compost heap. Then he glanced at his watch.
‘Should you two be sitting here?’ he asked. ‘The Meeting must be racing along. They’ll be getting to the bit about the second form monitors soon.’
Joan and Elizabeth looked at one another.
‘I’m not going back in there,’ said Joan bravely.
‘Nor me,’ stated Elizabeth.
Her face crumpled and tears of anger came to her eyes.
‘I don’t want to be a monitor any more. Not with her as head girl! I couldn’t bear, as a matter of fact, ever to sit on the same platform as her!’
‘Those are my feelings exactly, Elizabeth,’ declared Joan.
‘Now,’ said Thomas, gazing around the hall, ‘we come to the last business of the day.’
Complaints and grumbles had been dealt with. There had only been two.
‘We have to sort out the second form monitors,’ he continued. ‘As you know, you are allowed two. Joan is still in the second form and can remain as a monitor, if you so wish. Or you may elect a new person, if you prefer. Susan has gone up into the third form this term. So a new monitor will have to be chosen to take Susan’s place. Do you want to choose one new monitor, or two? What have you decided, second formers?’
Belinda rose to her feet. It had been agreed that she would be the spokesperson for the form. It had also been agreed what she should say. The words were written on a piece of paper.
Her cheeks hot with embarrassment, Belinda glanced round to see if there was any sign of Elizabeth and Joan coming back. For the past few minutes she had been looking out for them constantly. But they had not returned to the Meeting.
‘Well, Belinda?’ prompted Thomas.
Feeling awkward, Belinda read out the prepared statement.
‘We, in the second form, have agreed unanimously that we would like Joan to continue as a monitor for another term. For our other monitor, we are all of the same opinion. We would like to appoint Elizabeth.’
As she sat down a buzz of conversation ran round the hall. The second form wanted Joan and Elizabeth as monitors. But both girls had walked out of the Meeting! This was going to be an unusual situation. What would happen now?
‘Please!’ said Arabella, putting her hand up.
‘You wish to say something?’ asked Kerry Dane eagerly, from the platform.
Arabella stood up. She was feeling outraged at the way that Elizabeth, Joan and Julian had walked out of the Meeting earlier. Just because their favourite hadn’t won! The election had been fought fair and square and Kerry had won. She was going to make such a fine head girl. Perhaps she would be able to get Arabella a part in a film one day. She had almost hinted as much! It was extremely horrid and rude of Elizabeth and the others to walk out like that.
‘When we’ve chosen monitors before, they’ve always had to stand up at the Meeting and agree,’ she pointed out. ‘But how can we elect Elizabeth and Joan if they’re not here?’
‘Shut up and sit down, Arabella!’ hissed Daniel, crossly.
‘You know they’ve agreed,’ whispered Belinda, looking anxious. ‘You know Joan’s agreed to stay on and Elizabeth wants to be the new one.’
‘What do the rules say about it, Thomas?’ Kerry asked sweetly. ‘Is there anything written about it in the Book?’
The Book was a large volume that stood on the table between them. It contained a record of everything important that had happened at Meetings and the many rules that had been agreed upon over the passage of time. Together, Kerry and Thomas pored over the Book together and soon found what they needed. They discussed it briefly with the monitors behind them and then Thomas turned to face the school. He looked upset.
‘It appears to be an established rule that people must be here to be elected. The Meeting also feels that Elizabeth and Joan have ruled themselves out by such bad behaviour. So we’ve decided that the second form must now choose two new monitors. First find out if your choices are willing to stand, then write both names on a piece of paper.’ He handed Kerry some slips of paper to take down to the second formers. ‘We shall then count the votes and have a result very quickly.’
When Elizabeth and Joan went into dinner later, they learnt that Belinda and Daniel had been elected in their place.
They accepted the news bravely. Both girls were determined never to sit on the same platform as Kerry Dane, or recognize her as head girl in other ways.
‘I expect next week’s Meeting will have to decide on some sort of punishment for us,’ Joan sighed to her friends, after dinner. ‘It’s a very serious offence to miss a whole Meeting.’
‘See if I care!’ pouted Elizabeth.
‘I don’t expect the Meeting will punish you two,’ said Julian, airily. ‘They’ll decide that you’ve been punished enough by losing your monitorships. They’ll have to find some punishment for me, of course.’
Julian dug his hands in his pockets. His green eyes glinted.
‘Whatever it is, it’ll be worth it! It was good to make a stand. I re
ally enjoyed it.’
‘Yes,’ nodded Elizabeth. ‘I didn’t mean to lose my temper. But it was good to show her what we think of her.’
Julian smiled to himself, in spite of everything. Life was never dull with the Naughtiest Girl around.
At bedtime that night, Elizabeth discovered that Jenny was very upset.
‘I feel it’s all my fault, Elizabeth. I should never have asked Nora to stand! It’s worked out all wrong. Much as I admire Kerry, I never expected her to be elected as head girl. She just doesn’t seem right for it.’
‘She doesn’t seem right for anything!’ said Elizabeth coldly. She had no need to keep her feelings to herself any longer. ‘She’s really hateful. I’ll tell you all about it some time. But I expect you’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Really?’ Jenny looked intrigued. She frowned. ‘In a way, I suppose, she doesn’t seem right here at Whyteleafe at all.’
Elizabeth felt tired after all the strains of the day. She climbed into bed. But it was nice that Jenny was beginning to see sense. She had already forgiven her.
‘Kerry’s completely wrong for Whyteleafe,’ she said sleepily. ‘What Julian and Joan and I can’t understand is what she’s doing here at all!’
CHAPTER NINE
Emma speaks to Elizabeth
IT WAS wet on Sunday. Elizabeth spent much of the day practising her table tennis. She hung around the green tables downstairs, getting as many games as she could. Soon she had perfected the new service that Emma had taught her. She then went on to improve her forehand smash. Patrick was practising hard, too.
They’d both discovered there was to be a match next Saturday, a friendly against St Faith’s. It would be the first fixture of the new school year. And Emma and Mr Warlow would be choosing the squad after this week’s coaching session. Elizabeth was determined to get in the team!
She found the forehand smash particularly satisfying. She was still feeling angry and upset. She had left Joan sitting in the common room, hard at work with some knitting. Joan had decided to make a child’s scarf for the Earthquake Bazaar which the seniors planned for next Sunday. It would be a comfort to try to help the earthquake victims in some small way.
‘It will take my mind off things, Elizabeth,’ Joan had said, an expression of quiet fortitude on her face.
It upset Elizabeth that she was not to be a monitor, after all. But it upset her even more that Joan had been stripped of the post.
‘Kerry Dane’s been too clever for us so far, Joan, but we’re not going to let her win!’ Elizabeth muttered darkly. ‘We’ll find some way – some way – of showing her up for what she is!’
By Sunday afternoon, Elizabeth was hitting the table-tennis ball with great venom and accuracy. It was an excellent way to relieve her feelings.
‘Phew!’ said Harry, as Elizabeth won their game with a beautiful smash.
‘Your return just sat up and begged for a forehand smash, Harry!’ laughed Elizabeth. ‘You should try to spin it and keep it low, that’s what Emma says. You ought to come to the coaching sessions, they’re fun!’
‘I’m not good enough,’ said Harry. ‘But you’re getting brilliant. I’m sure you’ll get into the team, Elizabeth.’
Most of her classmates were being very nice to her this weekend. She had worked so hard to get Emma elected. They felt sorry that she’d lost control of her temper and with it her chance of being monitor. It was sad about Joan, too. Belinda and Daniel, the new monitors, felt especially unhappy.
At that moment one of the seniors appeared.
‘Ah, found you, Elizabeth,’ Philippa smiled. ‘A treat for you! A telephone call from your mother. Would you like to run and take it?’
Philippa felt sorry for the Naughtiest Girl too and the trouble that her emotions had got her into the previous day. It was nice that her mother had rung!
‘I wonder what Mummy wants?’ Elizabeth thought, as she hurried along to the little room called the Telephone Room. It was just a tiny box room with a comfortable chair and a low table. On the table was a coin-in-the-slot payphone.
Boys and girls from the second form upwards were allowed to receive calls from their family on a Sunday, and even to make outgoing calls if they were important. It was an exciting privilege. But Elizabeth had not expected to receive a telephone call so soon! The receiver lay on the table, waiting to be picked up.
‘Hello, Mummy!’
‘Hello, Elizabeth dear.’
Mrs Allen had rung about the flowers.
‘Thank you! It was such a lovely surprise when Daddy brought them home. They’re still as fresh as ever, even now. I’ve arranged them in the big vase on the hall table. I wish you could see them!’
‘I can just imagine them, Mummy,’ said Elizabeth, closing her eyes and doing so. Mrs Allen loved flowers so and made wonderful arrangements. ‘I’m glad you’re pleased with them.’
‘It must have been very interesting for you to meet Kerry Dane like that!’ her mother was saying. ‘I was so surprised that she didn’t want to keep the flowers herself—’
‘I think she had too much to carry, Mummy,’ Elizabeth said hastily. The Naughtiest Girl had not, of course, told her father that the bouquet had been rescued from a dustbin. There’d hardly been time to explain all that! It was simpler just to say that the actress hadn’t needed them. ‘I expect she gets lots of flowers,’ she added.
‘It was still extremely kind of her to make us a gift of them,’ continued Mrs Allen. ‘I thought you would like to know how pleased I am. And, of course, I hope to find an address to write to. I would like to drop a thank-you note to Miss Dane. I expect she has an agent in London . . .’
‘Oh, Mummy, I shouldn’t bother to do that! I’m sure she would just find it embarrassing. Please don’t bother to write a note!’
But her mother had become distracted.
‘Oh, there’s the doorbell!’ said Mrs Allen. ‘I have some friends coming to tea. They will be very impressed when they hear about the flowers. Thank you again, Elizabeth. How lovely to speak to you on the telephone.’
Elizabeth replaced the receiver and left the Telephone Room. It was a nice surprise to get a telephone call from her mother. But how she would hate it if Mrs Allen found out the agent’s address and sent him a note for Kerry Dane!
If only she knew where she was! One day, when this was all over, she would tell her mother the whole story.
‘Where’s my table-tennis bat?’ she asked John McTavish when she returned. He was having a knockabout with Daniel, now that the table had come free.
‘I expect you took it with you to the Telephone Room, Elizabeth!’ laughed John. ‘We haven’t got it!’
‘Yes, so I did! And I’ve left it there, too. How silly of me!’
Elizabeth retraced her footsteps. She would pick up her bat and then go to have a shower before tea.
The door of the Telephone Room was ajar. Somebody else was already in there, she could hear them speaking. The telephone was in use again!
Elizabeth hovered outside the door, wondering if the person would mind her just creeping in to get the bat. Then, as she recognized the voice, she stiffened.
It was Kerry Dane.
She was gloating. Elizabeth could hear every word.
‘Mummy, it was brilliant of you and Daddy to find Whyteleafe School for me. I didn’t believe you when you said you’d found a school like this where the pupils are in charge! No stupid teachers will ever boss me around again . . .’
Then, a few moment’s silence. Followed by laughter.
‘Yes, of course it was cheeky of them at Horton High! Trying to behave as if I was still an ordinary schoolgirl. Trying to act as if I wasn’t famous. It’s different at this place. You said it would be. We can do what we like. And you’ll never guess. I’ve been made head g
irl! Instead of being bossed around by grown-ups, I’m in charge of the other pupils, with a boy called Thomas. It’s going to be such fun, telling everybody what to do! There are one or two silly little rules, that’s all. I’ll tell you why I’ve rung, Mummy. Can you get some cash to me . . .’
More silence. And then, the voice became sulky:
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Mummy. I can’t be bothered to explain about the other cash. Why’s it difficult? Can’t you send banknotes by registered post?’ Kerry was becoming increasingly petulant. ‘I need to be able to buy myself treats when I want to, Mummy!’
Elizabeth tiptoed away. She had heard enough! Her table-tennis bat could wait!
She raced off to find Joan and Julian.
Breathlessly, she told them everything she’d overheard.
‘So that’s why she’s come to Whyteleafe School!’ whistled Julian.
‘Yes, she thinks there’s no discipline here. That this is a soft school where she can do exactly what she likes!’ said Elizabeth, outraged. ‘But that’s not how things work at Whyteleafe. A person like that can’t be allowed to be head girl! It’s an insult! Surely we can do something—’
‘There’s nothing we can do, Elizabeth,’ said Joan calmly, ‘except be very, very patient. It can only be a matter of time now before her true nature reveals itself.’
‘I’m not sure I can just sit around and wait for “time”!’ exclaimed Elizabeth furiously.
Julian ruffled her hair and grinned.
‘Always the bold, bad Elizabeth!’ he observed. ‘I’m afraid we haven’t any choice, whether we like it or not.’
There was strawberry ice cream for tea that day but Elizabeth hardly tasted it as she spooned it down, silent and inwardly smouldering.
Looking across from the seniors’ table, Emma saw how unhappy she seemed.
The senior girl came and sought her out later. Emma was still very unhappy herself but she was determined not to let it show.
‘Cheer up, Elizabeth!’ she said lightly. ‘I know how disappointed you must be feeling about the election result. But we must put a brave face on things, you know!’ She smiled. ‘We can’t have people thinking we are bad losers, can we?’