Boy Trouble at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  She had come to regard Trebizon as a kind of substitute home. The thought had once filled her with horror – but not any longer. So far, her parents had never even been there. She had always travelled there alone by train or bus. The Masons had had to send her to a boarding school rather hurriedly last year when her father had been posted abroad. They could never have afforded to send her to a famous school themselves, but the firm was paying all the fees. Now they were going to see Trebizon at last!

  They drove down to the west country in the hired car, with Rebecca's trunk on board, even fuller than usual. Now that she and Tish and Sue were going to share their own study-bedroom in Court House, instead of being in a dormitory in Juniper, the junior house, there would be room for ornaments and one or two posters and some favourite books.

  It was a golden September afternoon when they reached the town of Trebizon, still sprinkled with holidaymakers, the cafés and souvenir shops in the main street gay with summer awnings. They climbed out of the town and along the top road, past hotels and little palm trees, the glittering blue of Trebizon Bay in the distance. Then in through the main gates of the school, driving slowly through parkland, until the fine old manor house that formed the heart of the school came into view.

  'Oh, Becky!' said Mrs Mason. 'It's even nicer than the photos.'

  'Lovely place,' grunted Mr Mason. 'And that's the sea isn't it – through the trees?'

  Rebecca was pleased that they were seeing it at its best.

  'Let's drive straight round to Court House!' she said eagerly. 'Look – fork right here by the rhododendrons, there's a track that cuts straight through.'

  The car plunged down the track. Lush foliage brushed against the windows and the air was full of scents. They caught a brief glimpse of the Hilary Camberwell Music School, its Spanish-style building fronting on to a small lake, and then they drew up in front of a rambling old house covered in Virginia creeper.

  'We're here!' exclaimed Rebecca, climbing out of the car.

  'Rebecca!' shrieked a voice.

  The front door of Court House was open and a pretty girl with sandy coloured hair and glasses came rushing out with her arms outflung.

  'Sue!' yelled Rebecca, hugging her. 'What on earth are you doing here!'

  'Never mind that! What on earth are you doing here –?'

  They were laughing, twirling round, both talking at once.

  'Tish said you were at a Music Festival all this week!'

  'I was and it's over and here I am! Mr and Mrs Barrington brought me back with them this morning. It was in Plymouth – it would have been crazy for me to go all the way back to London, just for two days. But what are you –?'

  Rebecca explained.

  'Honestly?' said Sue. 'Tomorrow's tournament! You mean to say you're in it!'

  They talked nineteen to the dozen. Rebecca introduced her parents. They took to Sue straight away, she could tell.

  'Well, your mother and I had better go and look for Mrs Barrington and see about your trunk and getting you settled in,' said Mr Mason, glad to stretch his legs after the long drive. 'Where do I find her, Sue?'

  'The Barringtons live in that wing of the house over there,' said Sue, pointing. 'That's their own private front door, the blue one, with their car parked outside it. I think Mrs Barrington's round the back, putting some washing out.'

  Mr Barrington was the Director of Music at Trebizon and his wife Joan was the housemistress in charge of the thirty-six girls who lived in Court House. She also taught art.

  'Come on, Sue!' said Rebecca, as her parents went off.

  They ran into the main part of the house. The entrance hall was spacious and smelt pleasantly of floor polish. There was a sofa and a wide pinewood staircase and a coinbox telephone fixed to the wall. There were lots of hooks for coats, some potted plants on a table and well-worn rugs scattered around the floor. The doors were solid, polished pine ones with brass door knobs. Through an open one, Rebecca could see a common room with chintzy armchairs. She felt at home at once.

  'So this is Court! It's as nice inside as it is out!' she said in delight.

  'I didn't know which two rooms to save!' said Sue. 'There are four empty ones for the twelve of us coming in and they're all about the same -three beds in each.'

  The twelve new girls entering Court House were the A–Ms in Form III Alpha. The remaining six girls in III Alpha, the N–Zs, were going into Norris House. Luckily Rebecca and her five friends were all A–Ms!

  'Well us six have got to be near each other, that's the main thing.' Rebecca glanced towards the staircase. 'Let's go up and see the rooms!'

  'We can't!' laughed Sue. 'They're on the ground floor. We're at the bottom of the middle school so we have to be at the bottom of the house, too, where everyone can keep an eye on us! Next year, when we're Fourth Years, we move up to the first floor which is a bit more private.'

  'And the year after?' inquired Rebecca.

  'Up to the attic rooms – really cosy and tucked away on their own. The Fifth Years have got it made up there! It's dead quiet and you can see right across to old school and the sea beyond that.' Sue had been having a good look round! 'Of course it's their GCSE year so they need to have some peace and quiet to swot for their exams.'

  'So that's the system!' said Rebecca, fascinated. 'We start at the bottom and work our way up. Always something better to look forward to.'

  'It's much better already!' said Sue. 'Much better than it was in the dormitory. Come and see.'

  The four study-bedrooms were down a little corridor that led off the main hall and were all very similar in size and layout. They were identically furnished. Each held three beds, three chests of drawers, three chairs, a clothes cupboard and a homework table.

  The difference was that two overlooked the front gardens of the house and the other two overlooked a very big courtyard at the back, all mellow flagstones and sunshine. The Barringtons' tabby cat was sunning herself on a low wall there. As the four rooms were close together anyway, it was the view that clinched it. After much discussion Rebecca and Sue decided that they preferred to overlook the back and that Tish would, too. Mara and Elf and Margot would feel the same way!

  'Yes, it's more interesting out of this window!' said Sue, dragging her trunk in from the corridor. 'Thank goodness that's decided!'

  Not only was the courtyard warm and friendly looking, with washing billowing and hens clucking around, but they could see directly across to Norris House, the other boarding house, where the remaining six girls in III Alpha and six III Beta girls would be living. It consisted of a long row of stone buildings, once outbuildings to Court House but now converted into attractive living quarters. The buildings backed on to the same courtyard, on the far side of it.

  'We'll be able to see Joss going out jogging in the morning!' said Rebecca, gazing out of the window. 'And maybe Roberta and Debbie and the twins practising their plays . . . oh, Sue! Isn't it great to be first here so we can take our pick!'

  They all had tea in the Barringtons' part of the house and then Mr Barrington showed Rebecca's parents round the main school buildings and the grounds while the girls unpacked and made the room look cosy. After that Mr Mason treated them to dinner at the Seaview Hotel, where he and Mrs Mason were booked in for the night, and then drove them back to Court House.

  'You'd better get some sleep, Becky,' he said, kissing her on the cheek. 'You've got your tournament tomorrow and your mother and I have come a long way to watch you. My word, I like your room! You've got your posters up already! Is that your violin, Sue?'

  It was some time before Rebecca and Sue got to sleep. There was so much to talk about.

  'I just can't wait to see what David Driscoll's like tomorrow!' said Rebecca long after they'd put the lights out. 'I hope Robbie's right and he'll cover up for all my mistakes. Oh, Sue, I've got butterflies in my stomach . . .'

  'I always get those, just before I have to play in a concert,' said Sue. 'Don't worry, Rebecca. It'll be all
right .. .'

  There was a light tap on the door. 'Shut up, you two –' Mrs Barrington called out cheerfully, '– and go to sleep!'

  The housemistress supplied them with bacon and eggs and the two girls gri1led themselves a huge Sunday breakfast in the boarding house kitchen. It was at the back of the house and had big windows and a french door that opened on to the courtyard. 'Stoke up, Rebecca,' Mrs Barrington had warned. 'You'll only get a cold lunch today and the tennis goes on for hours.'

  The Trebizon Open Tournament was a mixed doubles contest organized by tennis enthusiasts in the town. The town didn't have enough courts to accommodate it and so it was always held at Trebizon School by kind permission of the principal, at the very end of the summer holidays, just before the tennis nets were taken down and the netball posts put up for winter. The tournament started at ten and went on all day, with a light lunch provided by the school at so much per head. All mixed double pairs in each half of the tournament played everyone in their half during the course of the day. They added up their scores at the end and then the top-scoring pair from each half played the final.

  'I'm glad it isn't a knock-out tournament,' said Rebecca. 'Imagine how my partner would feel if I let us get knocked out in the first round.'

  'Shouldn't think there would have been much danger of that,' said Sue, piling more of Mrs Barrington's home-made marmalade on to hot brown toast. 'Mmmm. This tastes good. From what you say, he sounds so brilliant that all you have to do is to keep out of the way of the ball –'

  'Hope so!' murmured Rebecca.

  '– and dance around the court and look glamorous. I like your tennis dress, Rebecca. Where did you get it?'

  Suddenly there was a spluttering, putt-putting sound as a moped was driven into the courtyard and up to the kitchen. The engine stopped and there came a firm rap on the back door.

  'Hallo?'

  Sue opened the door and saw a very crisp young man in tennis whites standing there. He was muscular, of medium height, with straight brown hair neatly combed and parted. His clothes were so dazzling white they looked like a washing powder advert. There were two tennis rackets clipped to his moped.

  'Pleased to meet you,' he said in a west country accent, shaking hands with Sue. He had a very precise manner. 'I'm David Driscoll. You must be Miss Mason.'

  'No, I'm Sue Murdoch –' She pushed Rebecca forward. 'This is Rebecca.'

  'Hallo,' said Rebecca shyly.

  David Driscoll smiled at her.

  'They said I'd find you here. I'll call you Rebecca, if you don't mind and you call me David. Surnames are rather formal.'

  'Of – of course,' said Rebecca. She thought that although he was trying not to be, he was surprisingly formal anyway! It made him seem older than he was.

  'I suggest we go straight to the courts and have a knock-up now, Rebecca,' he said. 'I'd like to get an idea of your standard.'

  'Go on!' said Sue quickly, as Rebecca hesitated, 'I'll wash up the breakfast things and wait here for your parents – you go and get your tennis racket.'

  'Do you mind if I leave my moped here till this evening?' said David.

  They walked out through the front hall and almost collided with a girl rushing in. She wore a white tennis dress and had small blonde curls and a very pretty face. Her arms were laden with clothes.

  'David!' she squealed. 'Hallo!'

  'Hallo, Virginia. Feeling fit?'

  'Good heavens no. I shall leave all the fast balls to Robbie Anderson. Daddy's brought us both over from Garth in his new car – it's outside, you should see it! I'm just going to dump these clothes up in my room, ready for the new term. 'Bye!'

  They went out of the front door and walked along the track away from Court House. Rebecca looked around but couldn't see any sign of a car or of Robbie. Then she heard his voice.

  'Rebeck!'

  'Hallo, Robbie!' she called, waving.

  She could just glimpse him through a gap in the hedge. Mr Slade's car was parked, not in front of Court House, but round the side – in the Barringtons' private area, near their front door. Robbie's housemaster had obviously gone inside to say hallo. Robbie had climbed out of the car while he was waiting in order to stand back and look at it.

  'What a car!' gasped Rebecca. Even to her eyes, it was the most graceful thing she had ever seen. A long, low silver sports car, dazzling new and shining, the sun glinting on it here and there. 'Is that Mr Slade's new car?'

  'Must be,' shrugged David Driscoll.

  'See you down at the courts!' called Robbie, his gaze at once returning to the car. He was running a hand along the bonnet, stroking it reverently.

  Rebecca and David walked on.

  'I don't know where some people get the money,' was all he said.

  'No,' confessed Rebecca. 'Nor do I.'

  He glanced at her briefly and gave a nod, as though he approved of her. But only one thing mattered to Rebecca at that moment. The tennis tournament – the very first one she had ever played in! – was only half an hour away. She gripped her racket tightly and wondered what it was going to be like playing with a county senior player – and her future coach.

  THREE

  ROBBIE BEHAVES BADLY

  It ought to have been terrifying, but it wasn't. It was exhilarating. Rebecca realized afterwards that with a partner like David Driscoll it could hardly have been anything else. He completely outshone everyone in their half of the tournament at Trebizon that day. He was always there, covering the court, if she missed a shot. As they won game after game, Rebecca's confidence grew. She found her touch, served well and made a lot of good shots from the baseline. But her partner, volleying and smashing, would have devastated the opposition anyway.

  'Whatever were you worrying about?' laughed Sue, when they broke off for lunch. They went to the main school dining hall. She and Rebecca piled their plates high with salad and cold meats from the buffet and then went out into the sunshine to join Mr and Mrs Mason on the terrace. 'Isn't she fantastic!' Sue asked Rebecca's parents.

  'Her tennis has come on, hasn't it?' said Mr Mason, proudly. Before lunch he'd noted down all the totals on the scoreboard. 'Looks like we're going to have to wait and see the final! How can they fail to get in it?'

  'We will wait, won't we, love?' asked Mrs Mason anxiously. 'I don't care how late we get back to London tonight! The car doesn't have to be back tonight does it?'

  'Tomorrow morning!' said Mr Mason. 'We're not going to miss this!'

  'It's nothing to do with me!' laughed Rebecca. 'It's all David.' She felt on top of the world. There were people everywhere, balancing plates, eating, laughing, talking. She had been getting glances from some of the townspeople in the course of the morning.

  Who's that girl with the long fair hair playing with David Driscoll?

  She's quite good, isn't she? One of the Trebizon girls, I think.

  She didn't play here last year did she? Don 't remember her.

  During lunch a very tall lady in a cream linen suit and floppy hat came over and joined them. She was the county tennis scout and one look at Rebecca's glowing face was enough.

  'I can see you're enjoying it,' Mrs Seabrook smiled. 'I decided to throw you in at the deep end.' She turned to Rebecca's parents and introduced herself. They had exchanged letters but never met. 'How did it go for Rebecca in the holidays?'

  They discussed the county training scheme and Rebecca's tennis in general. Rebecca and Sue slipped away. They took the empty plates back to the dining hall and got some chocolate cake. Tish's brother was in there, steering Virginia towards the coffee. He gave them a cheerful wave.

  'I wonder what their scores are like?' Rebecca suddenly wondered. 'They're in the other half.'

  'They're well ahead,' replied Sue. They walked back out into the sunshine. 'Tish ought to be here! It's obvious you four are going to meet in the final – it's going to be exciting! Except – poor Tish – she wouldn't know which side to cheer for!'

  'Then maybe it's just as well she
's not!' laughed Rebecca. But there was a churning feeling in her stomach. 'Robbie said we might meet in the final-he said it the other day – I thought he was joking. But David's so good . . . Sue! It's just beginning to sink in. The final! I wonder who's going to win –?'

  'You and David, of course,' said Sue. Then, loyally, because she liked Tish's brother: 'But Robbie's good. It won't be a walkover.'

  Rebecca shivered with excitement. It was proving to be a great day! Even the weather was perfect. Nothing could spoil a day like today, thought Rebecca. But she was wrong.

  Something could spoil it, just a little, and it did.

  She and David got to the final. So did Robbie and Virginia. It would be played at four o'clock – the best of three sets. At five minutes to four, David took her over to the court. Up to now the tournament had been very informal, with players keeping their own scores and retrieving their own balls. The final would be different, with ballboys, linesmen and an umpire sitting up in a high chair. A grey-haired gentleman, president of the tennis club in the town, was climbing up into the umpire's chair now. Lots of people were drifting over and sitting down on the high banks behind the tennis courts to get a good view of the match. Rebecca's parents were there, with Sue, and so was Miss Sara Willis who was in charge of games at Trebizon and lived in a small cottage in the grounds. Mrs Seabrook, the county scout, had been going to leave early but had been persuaded to stay and present the silver cup at the end. It stood on a small table just inside the courts.

  'Nervous, Rebecca?' asked David Driscoll.

  'A bit,' she replied.

  'Don't be,' he said.

  Robbie and Virginia were coming out on to the court now, to join them. He was carrying her racket for her and had an arm round her shoulders. She looked slim and very pretty in her tennis dress. Robbie looked crumpled and untidy – unlike David whose whites were still immaculate after several hours' play. Robbie's dark curly hair was standing on end and he looked, Rebecca thought, extremely happy.