by Anne Digby
Even as Emmanuelle was digesting this news, there came a happy distraction. A small flotilla of sailboards appeared suddenly from behind the next headland along, from Vennick Cove. Some more windsurfers, arching back gracefully from their sails, whipping along in the breeze.
The French girl clapped her hands in excitement.
'Let us go to that place in the afternoon then! What is it called - ?'
'Vennick Cove.'
'We can hire sailboards. I will teach you girls all to windsurf! In the shallow water, close by the shore. It will not be dangerous. Surely our teachers will allow?'
What a fantastic idea, thought Rebecca. Would it be possible?
They walked back to school together. It was time Rebecca got ready for her big tennis match. Emmanuelle was laughing and chattering all the way. What did it matter about the old island? What did it matter that the sailing school had not yet reopened? Windsurfing was such fun. Rebecca would see! Rebecca soon began to feel thoroughly cheerful again.
She was pleased she hadn't written of those plans in her letters to Emmanuelle. Hadn't built it all up. She'd been right to resist the temptation. There had always been the danger that things wouldn't come together in time.
She only hoped that Christelle wasn't too disappointed. Mara had been seething about it, though she'd calmed down now.
Imagine Emmanuelle being an expert at windsurfing. She said it was even more fun than sailing! Would Mrs Barry give them permission to go to Vennick tomorrow afternoon? Would Mme Bouvier? If they got hold of some prefects to come along too? And there was always a lifeguard down at Vennick Cove. Surely they'd say yes?
It was a shame about Jock, though. He'd miss out on his summer trade at this rate, lose money, the length of time the solicitors were taking.
Pleased to see how much Emmanuelle enjoyed Commemoration Day, Rebecca tried to take her own upset in her stride.
It was a shock, Robbie coming to watch the match.
It was totally unexpected though, oddly enough, she'd been thinking about him earlier. After going upstairs and changing for tennis, she started thinking about Emmanuelle's ball dress and decided to take a peep at her own. Alone in her cubie, she opened her clothes cupboard and ran her hands down the shimmering blue sleeves with their long white fringes. It was the dress she'd worn to her very first Commem Ball, in the Third Year.
As she touched the material, memories of that first ball came flooding back. Robbie had bought her a bunch of roses. What a wonderful evening that had been! And then last year, in the Fourth, she'd worn it again - but with a different stole this time, and Robbie hadn't recognized it!
She smiled as she remembered the comical expression on his face, when she'd told him it was the same dress. It was as vivid as though he were standing in front of her now...
'Rebecca!'
She gave a start as Mara looked into the cubicle.
'You are having a day-dream?' Then Mara stared towards the open cupboard. 'You are wearing your beautiful dress again tonight? The one my Aunty Papademas bought you.'
'Yes. Third time in a row.' Rebecca looked at Mara, slightly misty-eyed. 'It is lovely, isn't it?'
'It will be new for Cliff! Cliff will never have seen it before!' said Mara.
'That's right. Lucky I've found a new partner, isn't it?' Rebecca replied, lightly.
'Come on, Rebeck!' hollered Tish, from the far end of the floor, by the door. 'Are you playing in a tennis match or aren't you?'
It was a long match. Very tough. Very, very exhausting. It lasted two-and-a-half hours.
Rebecca had imagined that her hardest match would be against Joss Vining in the semis, but not so. She'd won in two straight sets. It had lulled her into thinking that she was less seriously out of practice than she was. Playing Alison was salutary.
The school's head of games had given up county coaching because of A-levels but, unlike Rebecca, had been allowed to play inter-school fixtures all term. Two years older than Rebecca but nevertheless with a national rating well below the one that Rebecca had once had, she should have been beatable. But Alison was about to leave the Upper Sixth, knew this was her only chance ever to win the new cup. She wanted it badly, had practised hard. She had the edge.
Rebecca was glad that she didn't know Robbie was watching, until the very end. It might have affected her game. She might have been less narrowly defeated.
She was down 11 - 12 in the long, final set when she caught a glimpse of him in the throng near the gate; a sudden glimpse of a tense, frowning face watching her.
As she came off the court he was the first to meet her. He blocked the way, tall and muscular in faded blue jeans and a Garth College tee-shirt; and took light hold of her wrist. She glanced quickly up at his face. How washed-out he looked! So it must be true what Justy had told Sue; that he'd been overworking, hadn't been sleeping properly.
'That was bad luck, Rebeck,' he said.
'Didn't know you were coming over,' she replied, awkwardly. She felt hot and flustered, still trying to come to terms with her defeat. Alison had just been presented with the Darling Cup by the Dread in person. There was a babble of voices all around. Her friends hadn't located her yet.
'Sentimental journey. I'm leaving Garth. Feels odd. I'm leaving tonight.'
'Oh.'
'Nothing to stay for. Took my last A-level paper yesterday.'
'How did it all go, Robbie?'
'Okay, I think. Don't know. I'm still in a daze.' He was gripping her wrist too tightly. 'You should have won that match! You're out of practice.'
'That's right.'
From the corner of her eye, Rebecca could see them all heading towards her now. Emmanuelle, with Jenny and Anne-Marie. And Cliff and Ginge. Cliff was wearing his dinner suit. Even from this distance, she could see that he was glancing towards her and Robbie. Behind them came Tish and Co.
'GCSEs. Remember?' she added. She unprised Robbie's fingers from around her wrist. Emmanuelle was calling her. 'My French pen friend's here. Got to go and look after her.'
She turned away, in confusion.
'Hope you get good grades, Rebecca,' he said, with a brief glance in Cliff's direction. And walked away.
Emmanuelle was the first to reach her side.
'What a long match, Rebecca! You played so well. Oh, it was such a shame! Now we must all hurry and get changed for the ball!'
Cliff was hanging back slightly, an odd expression on his face. Rebecca walked over and kissed him on the cheek. 'Come on. You and Ginge can watch TV while we all make ourselves beautiful. Cliff, I nearly didn't recognize you in that dinner suit!'
And he grinned.
After leaving the boys downstairs in the common room at Court House, Emmanuelle whispered to Rebecca on the way upstairs: 'That was Robbie! I recognized him from the photo you sent. Now I understand how you said he was moody. Cliff and Ginge are lovely. I am in love with them already!'
Rebecca smiled. She was so lucky to have Cliff!
But for some reason she felt very, very tired at the ball.
She told herself it had nothing to do with the tense little encounter with Robbie. It was the tennis match. It had taken its toll. In her warm bath afterwards she'd nearly fallen asleep! And Cliff, tonight, just to be difficult, seemed to have even more energy than usual. They danced quite a lot until halfway through the evening. But after the supper interval, Rebecca decided she couldn't dance another step. Her limbs felt like lead. They ached and ached.
'Can you dance with Jenny, Cliff?' she whispered.
Poor Jenny! It was such a shame. Curly Watson had brought Mike Brown along to partner Christelle but instead of bringing the two partners he'd promised for Jenny and Anne-Marie, he'd only produced Chris Earl-Smith. William Chan had been called out to an athletics meeting. Unfortunately Chris had been bowled over by Anne-Marie at first sight! The three boys had danced dutifully with Jenny but had gradually become more and more engrossed with Mara, Christelle and Anne-Marie respectively. Rebecca could
see that Jen was in serious danger of having a miserable evening. She was so shy with boys, anyway!
Jenny couldn't keep up with Cliff, either. In fact, being taller than him, found him difficult to dance with. But fortunately Ginge couldn't keep up with Emmanuelle, so it all worked out beautifully. Leaving Cliff and Emmanuelle to dance themselves silly, Rebecca, Jenny and Ginge sat around talking and joking. They laughed a lot and got on amazingly well.
Tish joined them at one stage and told them there was an amazing rumour going around. Michael Deeping had been seen in Cheap Street! The legendary film actor who'd won three Oscars and was reputed to be a multi-millionaire! He'd just divorced his fourth wife and was soon to marry a fifth. Apparently his luxury yacht was moored at Dennizon Point!
'Sandrine and Ariane want to go and see it tomorrow and try to get his autograph,' grinned Tish.
'I expect the whole town will be there,' said Jenny.
'Except me,' said Ginge, making a face. 'I think he looks a real slob.'
'And me!' laughed Rebecca. 'I know I'm going to be too tired!'
And when she'd danced the last waltz with Cliff, and a whole crowd of them decided to go down to the beach and take guitars and have a singsong, Rebecca knew that she was going to have to bow out.
'I'm sorry, Cliff. You won't forget the barbecue tomorrow evening?'
'No fear!'
'Rebeck, don't be such a wet blanket!' complained Tish. 'You're as bad as Sandrine. She's just gone back to the house as well.' She glanced round, grinned, lowered her voice. 'Thank goodness! Now I can start to enjoy myself.'
'The beach!' sighed Emmanuelle, wistfully.
'But you must go, Emmanuelle! Don't worry about me!' exclaimed Rebecca. Anne-Marie had disappeared with Chris to look at the quadrangle gardens but Jenny, Ginge and Cliff were standing nearby and she took Emmanuelle over to them. 'Jenny will look after you, and Ginge and Cliff. Off you go! Shoo!'
'Looks like we've all been given our marching orders!' laughed Ginge, chivalrously taking Emmanuelle by the arm. He looked very dashing in his bandsman's uniform. 'Let's go.'
As she collapsed into bed that night, Rebecca wondered about herself. Was it really just the tennis match that had so drained her? She hadn't enjoyed the ball as much as she'd hoped to.
But she must put it out of her mind. Emmanuelle had had a lovely day.
And she'd have another lovely day tomorrow.
They'd find out about going to Vennick. Windsurfing! And then there'd be the barbecue in the evening.
'I expect I'm really going to enjoy myself tomorrow, too,' Rebecca thought drowsily. 'I expect it'll be better than today.'
But it was the next day that everything began to go wrong. Starting with the piece in the newspaper.
NINE
COMPLICATIONS
Early on the Sunday morning the telephone rang at the bottom of Court House. A sleepy Third Year girl answered it then ran all the way upstairs to get an even sleepier Tish out of bed.
'Phone!'
'What, at this hour?' grumbled Tish, staggering out of bed and groping around for her dressing-gown. 'Couldn't you say I was asleep, Katy?'
'It's your sister. Says it's urgent.'
Helen Anderson, Tish's grown-up sister, was ringing from her flat in London.
'Tish! It's me. Guess what. I'm sitting up in bed, drinking a delicious cup of tea and reading my Mail on Sunday...'
'Well, lucky you!' snorted Tish. 'And I was lying in bed, having a delicious sleep. It was the Commem Ball last night!'
'But listen, have you read it? Today's Mail - '
'Of course I haven't! What's wrong?'
Her sister explained.
'I don't believe it!'
'Well, go and get a copy yourself.'
'On my way,' said Tish. 'What page again - ?'
'The gossip page, of course. It's the only one I read before breakfast. You can't miss it. Oh, Tish, what a shame! I'd offered to stump up another £50, too. When you told me about Mara's father, I thought everything was going to be okay.'
'Didn't we all.'
The other five were only just getting up when Tish burst back into Court House, having found a copy of the paper over at Parkinson, still sticking out of the letter box. It was Virginia Slade's but no matter.
Rebecca, with a slight sigh, was hanging up her ball dress in the back of the clothes cupboard, having left it in a heap on the floor. She wouldn't be needing that again for a while! But she felt so much fresher this morning. A sweet new morning, the sun shining. It was wonderful what a good night's sleep could do.
Then Mara's scream of rage brought her rushing out of the cubicle.
Tish! This is terrible!
Soon they were all six crowding round the big table, avidly reading the paper spread out in front of them, the rest of the floor drifting up to have a look as well.
It was the lead story on the gossip page.
MICHAEL TO BUY ISLAND FOR CASSIE
Much wed international megastar Michael Deeping, 48, who marries up-and-coming model Cassie Duncan, 25, next month, blames too much media attention for the breakdown of his previous four marriages and he's been scouring the country for the perfect hideaway for himself and Cassie. Now he appears to have found it. This weekend his luxury yacht Gazelle III is moored at Dennizon Point in the far southwest and I've been told that he will shortly put in a formal offer for tiny Mulberry Island down there, where he will build a spectacular dream home for himself and Cassie. Included in the sale, a nice little chunk of mainland with access to an unspoiled cove which should ensure the couple's privacy. High walls will be built. A close friend of the multi-millionaire star informs me that although there's other interest in the land, Deeping will pay whatever is needed to clinch the deal and as he has plans to use the cove to harbour his valuable yachts, it will be patrolled by security men with guard dogs. Should be quite some hideaway.
Alongside the story was a photograph of a beautiful but neurotic looking young woman displaying a huge diamond ring on her left hand, with the caption: Cassie Duncan showing off her spectacular engagement ring last month. It seems that as well as the rock Michael Deeping is now buying her an island.
'The school's had it then!' whispered Rebecca, in bitter dismay.
'Oh, it is monstrous!' said Mara, tears welling up in her eyes. 'My father will back down now. He will let Michael Deeping buy the land, I know he will.'
They all stared at each other miserably because they knew that Mara was right. Her father was generous, but on this occasion he'd only stepped in to stop the horrible Mr Tarkus buying the land. To punish him! Now the famous film star had popped up to do the job for him and was no doubt willing to pay a crazy price for the land, if necessary. There were other projects closer to Mr Leonodis's heart.
'What a rotten start to the day,' said Sue, sadly.
Rebecca, Sue and Tish all looked at each other. They'd been on some early morning runs in the past few days, Tish getting seriously back into training again. Each time they'd had to turn back at the headland.
'No more runs over there, then,' Rebecca said. 'Not ever. No sailing school. No chance of going to the island. Ever.'
'Security men! Guard dogs! It's all going to change round here!' complained Tish. 'It just won't be unspoilt any more. Helen's hopping mad about it.'
'I expect all the Old Girls are,' said Margot.
'And Miss Welbeck!' added Elf.
Rebecca and Mara glanced at each other. Miss Welbeck had been rather short with them on Friday. Now they guessed why. The estate agents had been stalling, hadn't even accepted the school's offer yet! Miss Welbeck must have been very worried, perhaps suspecting there could be complications. What a shock this would be to her now!
Animated discussion followed. There wasn't one girl on the top floor of Court House who didn't feel sad about it. Trebizon, surely, would never be quite the same again. They felt too strongly about it to be impressed at the prospect of having such a very famous neighbour
, though several of them liked his films.
'But I shall never go and see one again!' vowed Aba Amori, to which Anne Finch, Ann Ferguson and the rest all murmured their agreement.
'Ginge thinks he's a slob,' commented Jenny. 'Doesn't he, Rebecca?'
'Should I try and ring my father?' Mara asked at last, in desperation.
'No, Mara!' said Sue.
'Waste of time,' added Tish.
She picked up the newspaper and rolled it up. She'd better get it back to Parkinson, before Virginia missed it.
'Come on. No use thinking about it any more. End of story, by the look of things. Time you lot got dressed, isn't it? We're supposed to take our pen friends over to breakfast in a minute.'
'They've got to be at Mass by ten o'clock!' remembered Rebecca. The Catholic church was in the town.
She'd be going to church herself this morning, St Mary's, in the school grounds. And straight after that, there was work to do.
'Don't forget you promised to help me make shortbread for the barbecue tonight!' she reminded Mara. 'That'll be fun.' Mrs Barry had given them permission to use her kitchen. 'Cooks get to eat some while it's still warm. Delicious!'
'Of course, Rebecca.' Mara opened the fire exit door and gazed out at the blue sky. The sight of it cheered her. 'Look at the lovely weather again! It will be such fun, cooking our sausages on the beach tonight and eating shortbread. Curly is looking forward to the barbecue so much. And Mike is coming. Christelle likes him! And so is Chris - I think he and Anne-Marie have fallen in love!'
Rebecca smiled to herself.
'Cliff and Ginge are looking forward to it, as well,' she said. 'And Emmanuelle!' It would be overstating things to say that Emmanuelle and Ginge had fallen in love, too - but they'd certainly got on wonderfully well. As a foursome, they'd all mixed together beautifully. 'Emmanuelle's really, really looking forward to it. I do hope she likes my shortbread! I don't think they make it in France.'
'She will love it, Rebecca!'