In the opening minutes the play fluctuated from end to end with many misplaced passes, the teams nervous and slightly rusty in what was the first fixture of the season for both. Bennett had a half chance in the eighth minute after a clever pass from Pearson but she scuffed her shot. Thomas was looking particularly at sea at the heart of the Cropton defence, prompting Miss Gibson to scream, more than once, 'Wake up, Thomas!' which made Susan, standing behind the Cropton goal with Jenny and Grace Middleton, scowl. 'Leave her alone, you big bully,' she muttered.
After several scares for Cropton, emanating mainly from Pickering's dangerous number eight (who appeared to be named Curly judging by the calls of the other players), in the fifteenth minute disaster struck: Rachel Thomas completely messed up a simple back pass, letting in the Pickering number ten who tapped the ball easily past Wilkinson in the Cropton goal. There was a stunned silence round the pitch as the Pickering girls celebrated.
Further woe followed. Just five minutes later, with Cropton seemingly unable to get a sight of the ball, Curly broke through the middle, left Thomas on her bottom on the grass with a clever feint, and scored with a superb shot into the corner of the net. Susan hid her face in her hands. Jenny groaned. Grace looked miserable. But a lone booming voice came trumpeting through the chill drizzle that now filled the autumnal Yorkshire air.
"Come on Cropton Girls! Never say die! Now more than ever!"
It was Miss Markham, clapping her hands, rallying the troops, and her example was taken up with renewed chants all round the pitch: 'Crop-ton-hall, Crop-ton-hall, Crop-ton-hall!'
Very gradually, Cropton did manage to creep back into the game, though Pickering continued to have the greater share of possession and came close to scoring. Wilkinson made two good saves just before half time, and when the whistle blew for the break, things were looking as bleak as the weather: Pickering were clearly the better team.
"It's not fair," said Grace, as the SWACK friends blew on their hands while the teams were huddled in the middle of the pitch gathered round their coaches. "Their school's about ten times bigger than ours. They've got about a thousand girls to choose from. How are we supposed to match that?"
It was a question Monica Gibson refused even to contemplate. Her first act upon arriving in the middle was to make the girls form a very tight circle, linking arms, whereupon she barked,
"Thomas - in the middle."
Rachel disengaged herself from between Jennings and Hamilton and, looking puzzled, stepped forward. Miss Gibson instructed the two girls she'd left to close the gap and, before Rachel knew what was happening, Gibbo had stepped quickly behind her, lifted her short blue skirt and given her two sharp smacks on the bottom, saying 'Wake ... up ...!' as she did so.
"Ouch!" squeaked Rachel in shock. She looked furious for a moment, but when she saw the equal fury in Gibbo's eyes, she looked down.
"Now get back in the circle, Thomas, and stop letting your side down!" hissed the angry coach.
This unorthodox application of sports psychology long before the science was invented went unobserved by any outsider, thanks to the close circle the team had formed, though some Pickering girls did look over in curiosity when they heard the sounds of the spanks.
Quite how Miss Gibson's ensuing exhortations managed to galvanise the team so effectively would be the subject of much conjecture; suffice it to say that Cropton Hall's girls started the second half unrecognisable as the rather meek and clearly inferior team of the first. Within five minutes of the re-start, Thomas had brought the ball forward skilfully, timing a pass to Pearson so perfectly that it stranded two of Pickering's midfield players. Pearson swivelled quickly and found Bennett who pulled back her stick and whacked the ball so hard the Pickering goalkeeper never even saw it as it sped past her into the back of the net.
The cheer that went up was a rousing battlecry that imbued the Cropton team with even greater determination. After fifteen minutes, Pickering were pressing the Cropton goal when a pass by Curly was brilliantly intercepted by a diving Thomas who from a prone position managed heroically to scramble the ball to Jennings. A swift move involving Hamilton and Pearson followed and suddenly Julia Bennett was in on goal again. As she raised her stick to shoot, the Pickering keeper quailed and went to ground, allowing Bennett to glide around her with ease. At the goal-line she stopped cheekily, hand on hip, stick poised by the ball, and waited a moment as the keeper tried to scramble back, before tapping it casually over the line. Laughter burst out round the pitch and Mrs Pringle glowered. Two-two!
"Don't mess around, Bennett!" boomed Miss Gibson, but her shout was lost in the delirious cries of a hundred girls, many of them jumping up and down in their joy. Susan clapped her hands in glee, then turned and hugged Jenny.
"Wasn't she super?" she screamed. Jenny didn't have to ask who she was referring to.
As play resumed and Cropton again went on the attack, the excited squeals of the fourth-formers whenever Bennett got the ball seemed to throw the Pickering players into even greater panic. It wasn't long before the relentless Cropton pressure led to a mistake by the Pickering goalkeeper and Pearson nipped in quickly to flip the ball deftly into the net. Three-two to Cropton Hall!
"Come on Cropton Girls!" boomed the Headmistress, consistent and steady as a rock amidst the excitement. And come on they did, one more time. As the final whistle drew ever closer and Pickering tried everything to get an equaliser, Thomas again intercepted a pass with clever stick-play. She made a superb pass of her own half the length of the pitch which found Bennett racing through and as Julia approached the opposing goal with only the keeper to beat there wasn't a Cropton girl who didn't know what the outcome would be. Four-two!
Gibbo was leaping up and down waving her arms in the air and when, a minute later, the final whistle blew she turned and, much to the amazement of the girls standing nearby, lifted Miss Dawson off the ground and twirled her round so her legs flew out, almost catching Miss Beecham a blow on the hip. Prudence and Emily, standing nearby, gave each other a knowing smile.
The Headmistress stood clapping and beaming proudly as the players came off, the Pickering girls trudging disconsolately, the Cropton girls laughing and hugging. Bennett and Pearson were raised onto the shoulders of team-mates and, surrounded by adoring fourth-formers, carried away back towards the main building and the changing rooms, where the rest of the school was now making its way hurriedly to get out of the cold and wet.
One figure loitered behind, kicking at leaves and scowling. Shirley Barton's suffering had just been made doubly painful: the new team, led by Gabrielle, had triumphed and the Head Girl herself had played commendably. Seeing the two of them carried aloft together like twin goddesses was a stab to the heart that Shirley could bear only because that heart was becoming increasingly hardened by an icy determination to find some form of revenge.
The Headmistress and several colleagues, meanwhile, remained gathered at the pitch-side, still excitedly discussing the game.
"A famous victory, Monica," called Verily. "My congratulations ... and gratitude!"
"Thank you, Headmistress," replied Monica. "I'd better go and console Mrs Pringle," she added with a wink.
"Yes, do," said Verily, smiling. "And enjoy it!"
As Monica went over to offer a handshake to her defeated, grim-looking counterpart, Verily turned to her Deputy.
"Well, Edith, do you know," she said, looking down as she replaced her gloves. "I feel, for the first time, that I belong here as Headmistress! I feel I have at last truly ... arrived!"
"Verily, my dear," said Edith with an unaccustomed, almost gushing display of affection, and even a small tear in her eye, "speaking as Cropton Hall's oldest servant, and someone who has admired you for many years ... you never left! And beating Pickering High in our first game! And in such style! Isn't it almost too good to be true?"
Verily looked up and gazed into the grey, drizzly distance.
"Yes, Edith," she said, thoughtfully, "perhaps it i
s, perhaps it is."
24. Girls under the Cane, Arise!
Sir Wilfred and Lady Althorp had arrived back from a two-day visit to old friends in Harrogate in time for lunch that Sunday morning. It wasn't until they'd settled in the morning-room after their meal that Sir Wilfred turned his attention to the items of post that had collected while they'd been away. Comfortably ensconced in his favourite deep armchair, and having set aside a begging letter from their rogue of a nephew, he came across an especially fine envelope, of a rich, thick paper, with his name and address inscribed in an elegant, probably male hand. He opened it carefully, as if out of respect for the quality of the item itself, and drew out a folded sheet.
As he read, his eyes widened and he sat forward.
"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. Lady Althorp looked up from her novel.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well, it's quite extraordinary! I ... I don't know what to make of it really."
Lady Althorp tutted impatiently. "Who is it from, Wilfred?"
"Some chap I've never heard of - a Sir Stanlegh Meeth, apparently. And Stanlegh spelled very curiously. It's all very mysterious..."
"Really? How so?"
"Well, he says he has news of vital importance about the school."
"Cropton Hall?" asked her Ladyship.
"Yes, of course."
"What news?"
"He doesn't say - just 'news of vital importance' and he insists I meet him in York, with Verily, at the soonest opportunity - he suggests a week tomorrow."
"Who is he? What on earth can he know that's so important?" asked Lady Althorp indignantly.
"I've no idea. He just says he's taken a very close interest in Cropton Hall for some time and ... what's it he says ... I'll find that nobody has the best interests of the school closer to their heart than he does!"
"Bloody cheek! How dare he?" Lady Althorp banged a frail wrist on the arm of the sofa. "We're governors - you're the Chair!"
"Quite!"
"And who the hell is he? Sir Stanlegh what did you say?"
"Meeth."
"Never heard of him! Probably some upstart from down south trying to stick his nose where it doesn't belong!"
"WHAT? Oh gosh!" Sir Wilfred froze. "Wha ... what did you just say?" He'd turned quite pale.
"I said he's probably just some upstart from down s---"
"Oh! Oh!" Sir Wilfred's eyes stared alarmingly. His hand was shaking and he held the letter away from him slightly. "God! That is quite ... uncanny," he exclaimed.
"What on earth are you talking about, man?" demanded Lady Althorp.
"Well ... those are the very words he uses here: he says, 'you will probably think me some upstart from down south trying to stick my nose where it doesn't belong'."
They stared at each in stunned silence for several seconds before Lady Althorp harrumphed and sat back. But she, too, he could tell, was shocked by this extraordinary coincidence.
"I shall have to meet this chap, I'm afraid," said Sir Wilfred after a long pause.
"What!? Wilfred, don't you dare!"
"Well, he also says that he won't take no for an answer and he knows where we live."
"What!?" Lady Althorp was outraged. "Wilfred!" she boomed. "Call the police!"
"And say what? No, my dear, I'm sure it'll all be perfectly all right." Sir Wilfred had quickly recovered his accustomed brightness. "In fact it could be very good news. Perhaps he's got funds to invest? Maybe he's some philanthropic financier with unlimited wealth?"
"Tsk! You'll never learn!" said Lady Althorp.
"But how very peculiar ... the exact words ..." muttered Sir Wilfred, setting the disturbing letter down. He leaned back and stared out of the window at a magpie hopping across the lawn. "Very, very odd..."
---oOo---
The six girls who'd said they'd attend the first gathering of SWACK were due to meet up with Rachel and Susan in Dorm K at two o'clock. At five past, there were four of them - no sign of Jane Wilkinson or Sally Evans - and Rachel, carrying a large bag with a stick poking out of the top, conducted the first party, including herself, Alice and Jenny, up the stairs to the third floor, past Miss Waring's room (this was the main danger spot, though she'd ascertained that the mistress wasn't there this afternoon) and on up the stairs to the attic and the room at the end of the corridor that she'd found. Susan was to follow two minutes later with Grace and Charlotte.
The wooden floorboards creaked as they reached the top floor. Rachel had scouted the territory twice now, once having to creep past Miss Waring's room on tiptoe when she saw a light shining under her door. She had established that the lock on the door to the attic room was broken; indeed the door itself wouldn't shut properly, so they'd have no problem gaining entrance.
Rachel led the way in and placed her bag on the floor by the door. The room was perhaps ten feet square with a ceiling that sloped away from the outside wall in which there was a small dormer window providing some light. On the left was an old sofa piled high with caseless pillows, stained and holed in places with tiny feathers peeping, sometimes spilling, out. To the right of the window there were ten or twelve upright chairs stacked in pairs, along the right hand wall a number of boxes piled on top of each other and to the right of the door itself a bookcase with eight shelves filled with a motley collection of ancient-looking volumes in different shades of brown leather, all of them layered with dust. Dust, of course, was the dominant smell that greeted the nostrils of the three girls as they stood taking in the scene. Alice breathed in suddenly and sneezed.
"Ssshh!" said Rachel, continuing in a whisper, "we're going to have to be quiet, Alice, in case Very Waring comes back. In fact, we should really have someone on lookout."
"Sorry Rache," said Alice, wiping her nose.
"Bless you," said Jenny with a smile.
"Thanks," said Alice. She ruffled Jenny's hair affectionately. Rachel had gone to the sofa and was picking up and inspecting different pillows, selecting ones without holes and placing them on the worn, flower-patterned carpet that covered the floor. Little flurries of feathers drifted up as she worked.
"This is a super place, Rachel," whispered Jenny.
"It's good, isn't it?" said Rachel, still busy with pillows. Jenny turned and inspected the shelves of books.
"Hey! Look here!" she exclaimed in a soft voice.
"What is it?" asked Alice, joining her. Jenny pointed to the surface in front of the books on the second shelf from the bottom. There was a long, thin line where the wood was darker in the absence of dust - and the line curved back on itself at the end. "Gosh," said Alice. "It's like the shape of a ... of a cane, isn't it?"
"Yes, there must have been one just here ... till recently anyway," said Jenny. "I wonder where it went? Means someone's been here not long ago too. Hey, Rache..."
At that moment Susan appeared in the doorway.
"Good afternoon," she said in an exaggeratedly polite, and rather loud, lady's voice. "Might this by any chance be the right room for the meeting of SWACK? My friends and I..."
"SSSHH! Susie, keep your voice down," hissed Rachel. "Very Waring's room is only just downstairs you know."
"Yes," said Susan, peeved that her joke had been ignored, "but you said she isn't here this afternoon."
"She isn't, but we need to be careful," said Rachel.
"Yes, Ma'am," said Susan sarcastically. Grace and Charlotte had followed her in and stood, looking round.
"Right everyone," said Rachel, "take a place in the circle, please." She indicated the six pillows she'd arranged in a ring on the floor. "Sorry it's so dusty. I'll see if I can't find a dustpan and brush for next time."
"It's all right, Rache," said Susan, conciliatory now, and choosing the pillow nearest the window, "this is fine. In fact it's exciting!" She looked around at the others. "Isn't it girls?"
Jenny nodded eagerly and Charlotte whispered, "Yes, French, it is."
Susan looked at Rachel. "Rache, I think we've got to use Christi
an names haven't we? Isn't that a SWACK rule?"
"Yes, definitely," said Rachel.
"So - Susan, please, Charlotte" said Susie. "Or even Susie if you like!"
Charlotte looked delighted. "Thanks, Susie," she said.
"And can I say, before we begin the serious business of the meeting," said Susie, looking round the circle, "what a wonderful performance that was yesterday by the First XI and in particular our two star members of the defence! Rachel, Alice, you were really super, and we're totally proud of you." The others nodded.
"Thanks, Susie," said Alice.
"Thanks," said Rachel. "But you should have been there in the showers afterwards. It was hilarious!"
"Why? What happened?" asked Grace.
"Well, we had to share with the Pickering girls," responded Rachel, "and you should have seen their eyes popping out. They were all looking really grumpy - bad losers - until they saw some of the Cropton bums! On STALKS, they were!"
"Mine included," interjected Alice. "One of them - I think it was their goalie actually - couldn't stop staring, and in the end she came up to me and said she thought I was 'very brave' and what had I done! She thought I must have burned the place down or something!"
"They couldn't believe Gabrielle had stripes too. The Captain!" said Rachel. "And hers were the best - real corkers, all red and purple, neatly parallel. When we told them she was Head Girl as well they couldn't believe it. They were really nice after that. Apparently they only get the strap at their school and even that's not very common - and on knickers only."
"Where IS this school?" said Grace. "Take me there ... please!"
They all laughed.
"So ... here we are," said Rachel. "Welcome, girls, to SWACK - the Society of Whacked and Caned Knightesses! Thank you for coming. I know this might seem like a silly schoolgirl game but I really think we can help each other and maybe do some good. First, I've got a little ceremony I want to do for each of us to initiate us into the Society." She got up, fetched the bag from by the door and placed it on the carpet at her side. She pulled out the stick - a thin length of bendy tree branch.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 33