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New Term at Malory Towers

Page 8

by Enid Blyton


  Freddie laughed. ‘But there’s no one bolder or more daring than you, June! Why can’t you carry out this mysterious idea yourself?’

  ‘Because Mrs Dale has already met me,’ answered June. ‘Besides, my colouring is too different from Amy’s.’

  Freddie’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. ‘But what does your colouring have to do with anything? June, you simply must tell me what you have in mind, or I shall die of curiosity.’

  ‘All right then,’ said June. ‘You see, Freddie, we can’t break our word and tell Amy about her grandmother. So I thought it would be rather a splendid idea if we could get someone else to pretend to be Amy, and go and visit the old lady now and again, to cheer her up.’

  Freddie gave a low whistle. ‘We’d never get away with it! Mrs Dale would know at once that the impostor wasn’t Amy.’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t,’ said June. ‘She hasn’t seen Amy since she was a baby, and the only photograph she has of her is one that was taken when she was five. All we would need to do is choose someone fair – like you, or Nora.’

  Freddie digested this for a moment, then said, ‘Felicity would go mad if she found out.’

  June gave a rather mocking little laugh. ‘Oh, Felicity can be dreadfully pi at times. Not that there’s any reason why she should find out.’ She pretended to think for a moment, then went on, ‘I wonder if Nora could be persuaded? It means letting someone else in on the secret, but that can’t be helped. She might be a little scatterbrained, but she’s good-hearted and I think she would want to help Mrs Dale. Nora’s a good actress, and pretty daring, too – I don’t think that she would be frightened of upsetting Felicity!’

  June’s tone was slightly scornful, and Freddie was stung. She looked up to the other girl no end, and badly wanted to impress her. Lifting her chin, she said, ‘There’s no need to involve Nora, June. I’ll do it!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked June, looking hard at her friend.

  ‘Absolutely positive,’ answered Freddie firmly. ‘Look, there’s half an hour until bedtime – let’s slip away to the little music room near the dormy. No one ever uses it, so we shall be able to make some plans without being interrupted.’

  So the girls made their plans, and, by the following Saturday afternoon, they were ready to put them into action. Freddie was full of bravado as she and June made their way along the lane to Mrs Dale’s, keeping up a stream of light-hearted chatter. Inwardly, though, she felt extremely nervous and was even beginning to wish that she had never allowed June to talk her into this. But June – well aware of Freddie’s nerves – kept going on about how happy the old lady would be, and how no one else but Freddie would be able to pull this off successfully, and looked at her with such admiration that it was impossible to back out. Within moments, it seemed to Freddie, they were knocking on Mrs Dale’s door. The old lady opened it, giving a little start of surprise as she saw June. ‘Why, it’s the girl who rescued my cat!’ she said. ‘How nice to see you again, dear. And you’ve brought a friend! Do come in, both of you.’

  She ushered the two girls into the kitchen, and June took Freddie – who was doing her utmost to remain in the background – by the arm, pulling her forward. ‘I have a surprise for you, Mrs Dale,’ she said, launching into the little speech that she had rehearsed. ‘I know that you didn’t want me and the others to tell Amy that you were here, and we kept our word. But I’m afraid that the three of us discussed the matter in the common-room later, and – unknown to us – Amy was outside, and she overheard us.’

  Mrs Dale put her hand up to her mouth, an expression of dismay on her face. ‘So she knows that I’m here?’ she said. ‘My Amy knows?’

  Now it was Freddie’s turn to speak, but her vocal chords seemed to have become paralysed. Unseen by Mrs Dale, June prodded her sharply in the back and, rather hoarsely, Freddie said, ‘Yes, Gran. I know. And I insisted that June brought me to meet you.’

  ‘Amy?’ said Mrs Dale, her pale blue eyes opening wide. ‘Amy, is it really you?’

  Freddie nodded and June, smiling to herself in quiet satisfaction, said softly, ‘I’m sure that the two of you must have a lot to talk about, so I’ll go and leave you to it. Amy, I’ll see you back at school in time for tea. Don’t be late!’

  Mrs Dale, still looking hard at Freddie, didn’t seem to hear June, but Freddie did and stared at her in horror. This wasn’t part of the plan! June had promised that she would stay and that she, Freddie, would not be left alone with Mrs Dale.

  ‘June, wait!’ she cried. But it was too late – June was already out of the door, and Mrs Dale was telling Freddie to sit herself down and she would make them both a nice cup of tea. Freddie had no choice but to do as she was told, though inwardly she was seething. Just wait until she caught up with June later!

  June, for her part, was extremely pleased with herself and whistled jauntily as she made her way back to the school. Everything had gone just as she had hoped! Of course, Freddie would be simply furious with her, but June excelled at talking herself out of trouble and she would soon smooth things over.

  But when the two girls met up outside the dining-room just before tea, Freddie seemed to have got over her ill temper. In fact, much to her own surprise, she had had an absolutely splendid time at Mrs Dale’s! Freddie had no grandmother of her own, for both of hers had died when she was little, and she had often felt envious of other girls when they talked about their own devoted grandmothers, and how they spoiled them. So spending time with Mrs Dale had been a novel experience for the girl, and a very enjoyable one. Once Freddie had got over her nerves a little, the two of them had got along like a house on fire. Of course, Freddie hadn’t been able to relax completely, for she had to guard her tongue so that she didn’t give the game away. Even so, she had been delighted when Mrs Dale invited her to tea the following day.

  ‘I know it’s not what your father would like,’ the old lady had said. ‘I didn’t set out to make you go against his wishes, but it’s done now. We’ve met and there’s nothing he can do about it. All the same, though, I don’t think you should mention it to him just yet. Or your mother, for that matter.’

  Freddie related all of this to June in a low voice as they had their tea, and June listened intently, pleased when the girl said that she was going to Mrs Dale’s again tomorrow. The more the two saw of one another, the better, as far as June was concerned. Ah, Freddie might be enjoying herself now, but it wouldn’t be long before her conscience began to prick her.

  Meanwhile, June had a plan of her own to carry out – one that Freddie did not play a part in. Ever since Freddie had tricked Mam’zelle with the magic soap, June had been trying to think up a trick of her own – and this time she was determined that the glory would be hers and hers alone. And now she had come up with something which would put Freddie’s effort in the shade. The victim, yet again, was to be poor, unsuspecting Mam’zelle Dupont, of course, and June smiled to herself as she pictured the reaction that her trick would get.

  At the back of the third form’s classroom, right behind June’s seat, was a door into a small storage room. The room was home to old books, long-lost property and all kinds of odds and ends that nobody really wanted, and it was kept permanently locked. But June had discovered that the key hung on a nail in the handyman’s little cubbyhole and, her ingenious brain getting to work, she had come up with a first-rate plan for baffling Mam’zelle.

  That evening, as the third formers prepared for bed, Amy picked up a pot of cream from her cabinet and removed the lid. The girl was extremely vain about her complexion and possessed a marvellous array of lotions and potions. She was forever smearing something or other on to her face and the others often teased her about it.

  ‘What do all these creams actually do, Amy?’ asked Felicity, watching her in fascination.

  ‘This one is a vanishing cream,’ answered Amy, peering into the mirror.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t work,’ called out June. ‘We can still see you!’

&nb
sp; ‘Oh, very funny, June,’ said Amy. ‘Actually, it’s supposed to make spots and blemishes vanish. And now I’ve just used the last of it, so I’ll have to ask Mummy to send me some more.’

  She threw the empty pot into the wastepaper basket, and June gazed at it thoughtfully for a moment. Then she went and retrieved it from the basket, asking, ‘Amy, is it all right if I have this?’

  ‘If you really want an empty pot,’ answered Amy, looking surprised. ‘Though I can’t imagine what use you have for it.’

  ‘Oh, I have a use for it all right,’ said June, grinning. ‘Just you wait and see!’

  June decided to play her trick on Monday morning, and took the others into her confidence the night before, when they were all gathered in the common-room. The third formers listened raptly as June explained what she intended to do, their eyes lighting up and broad grins on their faces. Even Veronica was looking forward to it, for she was no scholar, particularly when it came to French, and always felt in low spirits on Monday mornings, with the weekend over and a whole week of lessons ahead of her. Strangely enough, the only person who didn’t seem thrilled at the idea was Freddie, who was unusually quiet and pre-occupied.

  ‘Anything wrong, old girl?’ Felicity asked in concern, noticing that the girl didn’t seem her usual self.

  ‘Mm? Oh, no, everything’s fine, Felicity,’ answered Freddie rather distractedly. ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Of course, you were out in the fresh air all afternoon, weren’t you?’ said Susan. ‘Where did you get to?’

  June quickly shot Freddie a warning glance, but it was quite unnecessary. She had no intention of saying anything that might alert the others to the fact that she had been to Mrs Dale’s. Instead she replied vaguely, ‘Oh, I just took a long walk along the coast road and the sea air has really made me feel sleepy.’

  Felicity looked at her closely and frowned. Freddie didn’t look tired – she looked as if she was worried about something. June was watching her friend too – but she knew exactly what was bothering her! Freddie had hardly touched a thing at teatime. Of course, that could have been because she had already eaten at Mrs Dale’s earlier, but it didn’t explain her rather subdued air. June had managed to snatch a few minutes alone with Freddie before prep and the girl said in a worried tone, ‘June, I really didn’t think this through properly when I agreed to pretend to be Amy. How am I going to get out of it? I can’t go on pretending to be her all the time I’m at Malory Towers.’

  ‘It’s easy enough,’ said June with a careless shrug. ‘Just keep it up for a little while longer, then you can pretend that your parents – or rather Amy’s parents – are sending you to a different school, far away from here.’

  ‘I suppose I could do that,’ sighed Freddie. ‘But I feel so dreadful about deceiving her! She’s such a dear old lady.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re deceiving her for the best of reasons,’ said June persuasively. ‘Mrs Dale was awfully lonely, and now she’s not. She’s happy because she’s got your visits to look forward to. That’s good, isn’t it?’

  Freddie agreed, but without much conviction, and June smiled to herself. Poor Freddie had so much on her mind that she was in no mood for jokes and tricks. Everything was working out just as she had hoped!

  The third formers had a lot to look forward to, for as well as June’s trick, the following weekend was half-term.

  ‘Are your parents coming, Bonnie?’ asked Amy.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ answered Bonnie, who was putting the finishing touches to a skirt she had made. ‘Mummy’s simply dying to see the school – and me, of course.’

  As Amy watched Bonnie expertly finish a hem, her needle flying in and out, she said admiringly, ‘How clever you are with your needle, Bonnie. I do wish that you would make something for me.’

  Bonnie smiled angelically at the girl and said sweetly, ‘I will. If you will do something for me in return.’

  Amy, who was used to people agreeing to whatever she asked immediately, and was unaccustomed to bargaining, looked a little taken aback and asked, ‘What is it you want me to do?’

  Bonnie folded the skirt she had been working on neatly, and laid it to one side, before saying, ‘Well, as you’re no doubt aware, I’m not very good at French. It doesn’t much matter when Mam’zelle Dupont takes us, because I can easily get round her. But Mam’zelle Rougier – well, I haven’t worked out how to make her like me yet.’

  ‘Mam’zelle Rougier always dislikes the girls who Mam’zelle Dupont likes,’ said Amy. ‘Veronica told me so. You’ll never get her to like you.’

  ‘Oh, I shall,’ said Bonnie, with quiet certainty. ‘I can always make adults like me. It’s just that it takes longer to get round some than others. And in the meantime, Mam’zelle Rougier is being simply beastly to me. She returned all that work I did in prep the other night – pages and pages of it – and expects me to redo it all and hand it in to her at the end of the week. I simply can’t do it.’

  ‘So, you want me to help you with your French, and you’ll make me a dress, is that it?’ said Amy.

  Bonnie nodded. ‘If you will do that for me, we can pop into town one lunchtime and choose a pattern and some material.’

  As Amy found French easy, she agreed to this readily and both girls were happy. Someone who was not happy with this arrangement, however, was Veronica. It seemed that Amy and Bonnie were growing closer, while she, Veronica, was being pushed out. She would have to put her thinking cap on, and try and find a way of getting rid of Bonnie. And she had something else on her mind, too. With half-term almost upon them, Veronica needed to come up with a plan to keep her parents away so that she might spend the day with Amy and her people. Veronica frowned. How could a term that had started so promisingly have gone so wrong?

  Vanishing cream

  There was a great deal of giggling and excited chatter as the third formers took their places in class the next morning and eagerly awaited the arrival of Mam’zelle Dupont.

  ‘My word, this is going to be super!’ chuckled Pam.

  ‘Isn’t it just!’ said Felicity, with a grin. ‘June, have you got everything ready?’

  In answer, June held up the empty vanishing-cream pot Amy had given her, and the key to the little storage room. She had sneaked into the handyman’s room earlier, while he was out, and taken it from the nail on the wall. With luck, she would have it back there before he even noticed it was missing!

  But luck was against June that morning. For the mistress who swept into the room was not plump little Mam’zelle Dupont, but Mam’zelle Rougier! The girls looked at one another in dismay, and murmurs of disappointment rippled round the room.

  ‘What a shame!’ Susan whispered to June. ‘You won’t be able to play the trick now.’

  June glanced at the stern face of Mam’zelle Rougier. She hated the idea of all her careful planning being in vain. What was more, if she went ahead now, she would have the distinction of being the only girl in the school ever to have the nerve to play a trick on Mam’zelle Rougier, and that thought appealed to her enormously! She would probably be punished for it, but it would be worth it. She winked at Susan and whispered back, ‘Just watch me!’

  The word went round, murmured from girl to girl.

  ‘The trick is still on! June’s going to play it on Mam’zelle Rougier!’

  ‘You have to admire her nerve.’

  ‘She’s sure to be punished, but June won’t care. I don’t think she’s afraid of anything!’

  ‘June is the most daring girl in the school – even more daring than her cousin Alicia was. And her tricks are simply splendid!’

  June overheard the whispered remarks and revelled in them. No other girl could hold a candle to her when it came to playing tricks – not even Freddie.

  Mam’zelle Rougier also heard the whispers – though fortunately she didn’t catch what was being said – and her lips tightened into a thin line as she rapped sharply on the desk with a ruler, making ev
eryone jump.

  ‘Taisez-vous!’ she commanded, in her rather harsh voice. ‘Now, Mam’zelle Dupont has been awake all night with the toothache, and has gone to the dentist. So I shall be taking your French class this morning.’

  Her sharp eyes swept round the classroom. She looked tired and irritable, which indeed she was, for her bedroom was next to Mam’zelle Dupont’s and the other French mistress had kept her awake most of the night with her moans and groans. Mam’zelle Rougier put a hand across

  her mouth to hide a yawn, then said, ‘Bonnie!’

  ‘Yes, Mam’zelle?’ said Bonnie politely.

  ‘Bring to me the prep which I gave you back,’ said Mam’zelle Rougier. ‘And let us hope that you have managed to get some of it correct this time! The rest of you, turn to page twenty-one in your French grammar books and begin reading, s’il vous plait.’

  Bonnie picked up her French book, into which she had carefully copied Amy’s work, and stood up. She glanced round briefly at June, who winked, then went up to the mistress’s desk and stood in front of it, so that Mam’zelle Rougier’s view of the class was obscured.

  Then June slipped from her seat and into the little storage room, which she had unlocked earlier.

  At last Mam’zelle Rougier finished checking Bonnie’s work, remarking grudgingly, ‘A much better effort, Bonnie. Please return to your seat.’

  The little girl skipped back to her place and Mam’zelle Rougier got to her feet, saying, ‘Now, let us –’

  Then she stopped, frowning, and said sharply, ‘Where is June?’

  ‘I’m here, Mam’zelle Rougier,’ came June’s disembodied voice.

  ‘Tiens!’ cried the French mistress. ‘June, are you hiding under your desk? I demand that you come out at once!’

  ‘I’m not under my desk, Mam’zelle,’ said June from the storage room. ‘I’m at my desk. Can’t you see me?’

 

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