Winter Term at Malory Towers

by Enid Blyton

  ‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised if she was jealous of her sister,’ Mrs Meadows was saying now. ‘Perhaps that is why she is so horrid to everyone, poor girl.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Bonnie, looking thoughtful. ‘I think that you may be right, Mummy.’ Bonnie watched Olive’s family from the corner of her eye as she ate her lunch. Olive remained largely silent throughout, though Bonnie noticed that her father and step-mother addressed a great many remarks to her. But they were treated to the same one-word answers that the Malory Towers girls always got from Olive. The younger girl, however, kept up a stream of bright chatter, much to Olive’s evident displeasure, for she scowled constantly.

  Bonnie was in a pensive mood on the way back to Malory Towers, and her father glanced at her in the driving mirror, asking, ‘Is everything all right, my dear? You’re awfully quiet.’

  ‘I’m all right, Daddy,’ said Bonnie, smiling angelically at Mr Meadows. ‘I was just thinking about something, that’s all.’

  Bonnie had been thinking about what her mother had said. Mrs Meadows was rather a silly woman at times, but she had a streak of shrewdness in her nature. And Bonnie felt that her mother might have hit the nail on the head with Olive. The girl made up her mind that she was going to try to talk to Olive’s sister—if the golden-haired girl was her sister—before half-term was over.

  And her chance came later that very afternoon. The two girls found themselves side by side while they were watching the lacrosse match. Bonnie disliked all games, and had only brought her parents to watch so that she could support June.

  For most of the watching girls, however, it was a thrilling game, and very close. And June proved that she was worthy of being selected for the team by scoring the winning goal in the last minute. While the rest of the fourth formers yelled themselves hoarse, Bonnie clapped politely and heaved a sigh of relief that it was over. And she wasn’t the only one, for the golden-haired girl looked relieved too, and the two girls exchanged sympathetic smiles.

  As everyone began to move away, Bonnie fell into step beside the girl and said softly, ‘I do so hate lacrosse, don’t you?’

  The girl nodded in agreement, and said in a soft, childish voice, ‘I don’t like any games. Nor does Olive, really. I think she only brought us to watch to spite me, for she knew that I would be simply bored to tears.’

  There was a petulant note in the girl’s voice, and Bonnie asked, ‘Is Olive your sister? You don’t look very much alike.’

  ‘Oh no, she’s my step-sister,’ explained the girl. ‘My mother married her father. He’s an absolute dear, but Olive simply detests me.’

  ‘Really?’ said Bonnie, opening her eyes wide. ‘I can’t think why.’

  ‘She’s horribly jealous of me,’ confided the girl, lowering her voice a little. ‘You see, she and her father were all-in-all to one another, until Mummy and I came along. Olive simply can’t bear it when he pays me any attention.’

  She gave a high little giggle, and went on, ‘I must admit I do play up to him at times, just to annoy Olive, for I dislike her every bit as much as she dislikes me.’

  ‘She’s not an easy person to like,’ said Bonnie, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘No, but it is very easy to make her lose her temper,’ said the girl, pleased that Bonnie seemed to dislike Olive too, and deciding that she was a safe person to confide in. ‘And such fun. I like to get her into trouble, too.’

  ‘What kind of things do you do?’ asked Bonnie, thinking that this was a very interesting conversation.

  ‘Well,’ said the girl. ‘Olive deliberately smashed my favourite doll once, because we had had a row. Of course, I was dreadfully upset, and told Mummy, who insisted that Daddy punish her. He was absolutely furious with her for being so spiteful, and she was sent to bed without any supper that night. Once she had shown that she had a bad temper and a spiteful nature, it was easy. Sometimes things get broken, or go missing, and somehow poor Olive always gets the blame. No one ever suspects that it is me.’

  ‘I see,’ said Bonnie. She would have liked to continue talking to the girl, but at that moment her mother called out, ‘Annabel! Do hurry up, dear, or we shall be late for tea.’ And, with a wave of her dainty little hand, Annabel darted off to catch up with her mother, and Bonnie’s own parents appeared, her father saying, ‘There you are, Bonnie! You must have fallen behind. Mummy and I thought that we had lost you.’

  Bonnie smiled her sweet smile and tucked her hand into the crook of her father’s arm, but her thoughts were racing. No wonder poor Olive was so ill-tempered! What a mean-spirited girl Annabel was. And it was quite clear now why Olive despised Bonnie herself, and Nora. The two of them were very like Annabel in looks, though not—Bonnie hoped—in character.

  Well, thought Bonnie, quite astonished. Perhaps Olive wasn’t as bad as she was painted after all!

  12

  Exciting plans

  It was a very busy time for the fourth formers once half-term was over. There were rehearsals for the play, of course, with those girls who weren’t taking part working hard behind the scenes. Bonnie and her assistants worked like beavers to produce the costumes, those who were good at art helped paint the scenery, and others searched the school from top to bottom for props that could be used.

  Then there were school lacrosse matches coming up, and many of the girls were practising hard in the hope that they would be chosen to play.

  June and Freddie were full of exciting plans too. They had come back from half-term their eyes alight with mischief, and when Pam had said, ‘Oho! What are you two up to?’ the two had shaken their heads and replied aggravatingly, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’ But they did share one of their plans with the others, in the common-room one evening. Sylvia, who had a sore throat and had gone off to see Matron, was not there. Neither was Olive, who had been called away by Miss Williams over the matter of some poorly written work.

  ‘Gather round, everyone!’ cried June. ‘With Sylvia and Olive out of the way, it seems as good a time as any to tell you that I intend to hold a midnight feast on my birthday next week, and you are all invited.’

  There were ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as the fourth formers exchanged excited glances.

  ‘A feast, how thrilling!’

  ‘Yes, we haven’t had one in simply ages!’

  ‘We will all bring something, of course, June.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said June, beaming round at her friends. ‘Mother and Father have given me some money to get what I like, but it won’t be enough to feed everyone, so if all you others can bring something, that will be a big help.’

  ‘Jolly decent of you to invite us all, June,’ called out Nora.

  ‘Well, that’s the thing,’ said June. ‘I’m not inviting all of you. Sylvia and Olive must be kept in the dark for now, for I don’t want either of them running off to tell tales to Miss Tallant.’

  Then she grinned, and added, ‘Actually, that’s not quite true. I do want the sneak to go to Miss Tallant. But I want to make sure that she tells the right tale.’

  ‘What are you planning, June?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘I can’t say just yet,’ said June. ‘For Freddie and I haven’t quite thought it all out yet. But as soon as we have come up with a way to trick Miss Tallant and her beastly niece, I shall let you know. Personally, I am almost certain that Olive is the culprit.’

  Several of the girls murmured in agreement, and everyone looked most surprised when Bonnie piped up, ‘I feel rather sorry for Olive.’

  ‘Bonnie, dear, are you feeling quite well?’ asked Amy, looking at her little friend in surprise.

  ‘Yes, perhaps you ought to pop along and see Matron, too,’ said Nora. ‘You’re delirious.’

  ‘Nothing of the sort!’ said Bonnie. ‘It’s just that I happened to speak to Olive’s step-sister, Annabel, at half-term. And what she told me put quite a different complexion on things.’

  ‘Do tell us,’ said June.

  So Bonnie told the fourth form
ers what she had learned from Annabel, and very shocked they looked when she had finished.

  ‘What a mean little beast Annabel sounds!’ said Susan, in disgust.

  ‘Poor Olive!’ said Pam, her ready sympathy stirred. ‘It must be quite dreadful to take the blame for everything that goes wrong, and to know that you are innocent.’

  ‘I daresay it must have seemed to Olive that there was no point in being good and well-behaved,’ said Susan, shrewdly. ‘So she decided that if she was going to be treated as a bad girl, then she might as well become one.’

  Suddenly Felicity snapped her fingers, and cried, ‘Of course! The person who is missing from Olive’s family photograph isn’t Miss Tallant at all! It’s Annabel!’

  ‘Yes, that makes sense,’ said Susan. ‘And to be quite honest, I can’t say that I blame Olive for wanting to cut her out.’

  ‘You may be right,’ said June. ‘But all the evidence still points to Olive being Miss Tallant’s niece. And, whatever problems she may have at home with her horrid little step-sister, it doesn’t excuse her behaviour towards us.’

  ‘I agree with June,’ said Nora. ‘I do understand Olive’s behaviour a little better now, and I know why she has such a down on Bonnie and me. But, even though I feel sorry for her, the fact remains that we can’t trust her.’

  Felicity, who had been looking thoughtful, said, ‘The best possible outcome of all of this would be for Olive herself to own up that she is Miss Tallant’s niece. It would make us all think better of her if she told the truth, and then we could let her know that we felt proud of her for doing the right thing.’

  ‘Marvellous idea!’ cried Julie. ‘And once we had praised her up a bit, Olive would surely start to feel more confident, and she might find the courage to tell her father about the mean tricks Annabel has been playing.’

  Most of the fourth formers thought that this was a very good idea indeed, only June looking rather doubtful.

  ‘If you are all agreed, I will go along with it, of course,’ said June. ‘But not until after the feast, for I’m sure that we are all looking forward to that and we can’t risk having it spoiled.’

  ‘That would be a terrible shame,’ said Lucy. ‘I really think that we will have to leave Olive out of it, you know, girls.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that we better had,’ said Susan. ‘June, you said that you were working on an idea to trick Olive and Miss Tallant, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ answered June. ‘If it works, it will keep Miss Tallant nicely out of the way while we enjoy our feast, and it will teach Olive that sneaking can sometimes backfire on the sneak, so we shall kill two birds with one stone.’

  ‘That sounds super,’ said Susan. ‘And once the feast is over, we can all set to work to make Olive own up, and try to set her on the right track.’

  Just then the common-room door opened, and in walked Olive, wearing her customary sullen expression.

  At once all the girls began to chatter about something else, while Olive sat down in a chair, looking miserably at the returned work that Miss Williams had given her.

  Kindly Pam went across to her and said, ‘Bad luck, Olive. Those sums that Miss Williams gave us this morning were awfully difficult. I found them quite hard, and I’m not too bad at maths. I say, perhaps I could help you with them?’

  For a second it seemed as though Olive was going to bite Pam’s head off, but, looking into the girl’s friendly, open face, she saw real kindness there and it warmed her. So Olive swallowed her pride, and said, ‘Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you.’

  ‘Good old Pam,’ said Felicity, as she saw the girl sit down next to Olive and begin to patiently explain how best to do the rather complicated sums that Miss Williams had set. ‘She really is a decent sort.’

  ‘Yes,’ said June. ‘Just so long as her decency doesn’t carry her away. We don’t want Olive turning over a new leaf until after the feast!’

  Naturally, the feast became the main topic of conversation for the fourth formers. There was a big cupboard just outside the dormitory, which the girls used as a hiding place for all their food. It had a key, which June kept in her pocket at all times so that no one could pry and find the hidden goodies.

  The girls were allowed to go into town in their free time, as long as they went in pairs, and June was forever going to the cupboard to hide packets of biscuits, tins of sardines, and bottles of lemonade that one girl or another had brought back with her.

  Amy, who had a great deal of pocket money, bought a simply enormous box of chocolates as her contribution to the feast, and she handed them to June when she and Bonnie returned from town.

  ‘Gosh, thanks, Amy!’ said June. ‘These look simply gorgeous! I’ll run up and pop them in the cupboard now, before tea.’

  June did so, then she locked the cupboard carefully and slipped the key back into her pocket, before turning to go back downstairs. Then what a shock she had! For Sylvia was standing behind her, and it was quite clear that she must have seen the contents of the cupboard.

  June could feel herself turning red, but said breezily, ‘Hallo there, Sylvia.’

  ‘Hallo, June,’ said Sylvia, her eyes alight with curiosity. ‘I say, what on earth is going on? Are you using that cupboard to store food?’

  June thought quickly and said, ‘Yes, but please don’t say anything to anyone, Sylvia. The South Tower girls are planning a feast next week, and they wanted somewhere to store the goodies where their matron wouldn’t find them. She’s a real nosey-parker, you know, always snooping round, and she’s far stricter than our Matron.’

  Fortunately, Sylvia, who had never met the placid, good-humoured matron of South Tower, accepted this readily, and said, ‘Oh, of course. I shan’t say a word.’

  June breathed a sigh of relief and went off to tea, catching up with Freddie just as she was entering the dining-room.

  ‘I say!’ she whispered. ‘I’ve just had a jolly close shave with Sylvia.’

  And, quickly, she told Freddie what had happened.

  ‘That was quick thinking, June,’ said Freddie admiringly.

  ‘Wasn’t it just?’ agreed June, with a cheeky grin. ‘And it’s given me an idea. How would you like a walk around the grounds before tea, Freddie, old girl?’

  Freddie, seeing the gleam of mischief in June’s eyes, said at once, ‘If I agree, will you tell me what you’re up to?’

  June nodded, and said, ‘Quiet now! Here come the others, and I don’t want to let them in on what I’m going to do until I have it all worked out properly.’

  It was a chilly evening, and, after tea, the two girls put on their hats and coats, June fetched a torch, and off they went, out into the garden.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Freddie, curiously.

  June glanced over her shoulder, to make sure that no one was around, and said, ‘We’re going right over in the corner, by South Tower. There is a small gap in the wall there, just big enough for someone to slip through, which leads down to the beach.’

  ‘Is there?’ said Freddie, surprised. ‘I didn’t know that!’

  ‘Hardly anyone does,’ said June. ‘It’s almost completely overgrown by the ivy that hangs down the wall, so it’s invisible.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Freddie, now very curious indeed.

  But June said, ‘No, I’ll wait until we get there before I tell you what I mean to do. It will be easier to explain if you can see exactly what I mean. Thank heavens that it’s a cold evening, and nearly everyone is indoors. No one will be able to see what we are up to.’

  But someone was about! As the two girls approached the wall, they spotted plump little Mam’zelle Dupont a few yards in front of it.

  ‘Blow!’ said Freddie. ‘Whatever is Mam’zelle doing here? She likes to be all nice and cosy indoors in the cold weather. It’s not like her to take an evening stroll.’

  Mam’zelle was well wrapped up in a thick, heavy overcoat, a long woollen scarf around her neck and a fur hat pushed firmly over her neat
roll of hair. She was looking a little perplexed, but her face cleared when she saw the two girls, and she cried out, ‘Ah, mes filles! How happy I am to see you both. You may help me in my search.’

  ‘What are you searching for, Mam’zelle?’ asked June.

  ‘My brooch,’ answered the French mistress, looking rather unhappy. ‘I lost it this afternoon, and now I come to look for it.’

  ‘How can you be sure that you lost it here, precisely?’ asked Freddie.

  ‘I came this way earlier with Mam’zelle Rougier,’ explained Mam’zelle Dupont. ‘And I distinctly remember her remarking on how unusual my brooch was shortly before we reached this very spot. Then, when we entered the school, she cried, “Why, Mam’zelle Dupont, your brooch—it is gone!” And so it was—quite vanished. I retraced my steps, but there was no sign of it, so I must have dropped it in the undergrowth here.’

  ‘But, Mam’zelle, why didn’t you search for it then, when it was still light?’ asked June. ‘You don’t have a hope of finding it in the dark, especially as you don’t even have a torch with you.’

  ‘There was no time then, for I had to teach the third formers,’ said Mam’zelle, looking agitated. ‘And I see that you have a torch, ma chère June. You will switch it on and help me find my brooch, yes?’

  Well, this wasn’t what the two girls had planned at all, but they couldn’t very well say no to the French mistress, so June switched on her torch and played the beam over the bushes that grew next to the wall. Suddenly, her sharp eyes spotted the gap in the wall that she had spoken to Freddie about, and a wicked idea came into her head.

  ‘Here, Freddie,’ she said. ‘You hold the torch for a bit, and I’ll hunt around in the bushes and see if I can spot Mam’zelle’s brooch.’

  Then, unseen by the French mistress, she winked at Freddie, who wondered what on earth she was up to.

  Keeping one eye on Freddie and Mam’zelle, June picked up a stick and poked around in the bushes, then cried, ‘I think I see something sparkling—over there!’

  Freddie and Mam’zelle both peered in the direction that June had indicated and, quick as a flash, June darted through the little gap in the wall, disappearing from their view.