"So ... here we are," said Alice. An awkwardness pervaded the circle for a few moments. Those murmurs of assent that were uttered carried no enthusiasm. It had been a frightening few days for all of them.
"Um ..." said Grace tentatively, "I've had lots of girls asking me about SWACK ... eager as anything. I've been telling them what it is." She gave Rachel a wary look. "I ... I hope you don't mind, Rache?"
"Yes, me too!" said Jenny - her friendship with Alice had not gone unnoticed, or uninterrogated, by her form mates. "People are asking can they join? Rache - you said Marky didn't mind."
"Well ... we aren't exactly Society of the Month after your ... er ... unusual way of advertising it, GRACE ... " She frowned at the fifth-former, but not without a forgiving twinkle in her eyes. They all laughed. "...but she didn't ban it or anything."
"Well it worked then, didn't it?" Susan pointed out.
"What did?" asked Rachel.
"Grace's paint job," said Susan. They all laughed again.
"Hey!" protested Grace. "It wasn't just me, you know! Alice did it too!"
"That's my Dad's car! They're here!" said Charlotte excitedly. She was clearly eager to be gone, but turned awkwardly to acknowledge her dangerous friends. "See you later," she said, dashing off after a blue Ford which had turned left, looking for a space to park.
"Is your Dad coming, Jenny?" asked Susan.
"I ... I don't even know. He hasn't said," said Jenny miserably. The others looked at her with sympathy.
"Oh," said Alice. "Well, never mind." She put her arm round Jenny's shoulder and squeezed her tightly. Jenny winced but smiled happily.
"Mine aren't coming either," continued Alice. "Let's stick together." She turned to the others. "But it's not fair we have to wait till everyone with parents has eaten first. You greedy pigs'll scoff the lot. Hey - try and save us some, will you, you three?"
"All right, I'll try," said Grace.
"Me too," said Susan. Her eyes suddenly recognised something in the distance. "Uh oh! Here he comes!" She turned and gave Rachel a peck on the cheek. "See you, girls. Be good ... but not that good!" And she was off. Rachel giggled and watched her scurry away towards her Dad's Jaguar.
Alice and Jenny decided to go and play chess while they waited their turn for lunch, leaving Rachel and Grace alone. Grace cleared her throat meaningfully.
"Rache - I'm ... sorry. You didn't deserve that this morning, and ... it was my fault."
"Hey!" exclaimed Rachel. "Forget it, Grace. Anyway, SWACK could be even more fun now. What'll we do with all these new members? Maybe your 'paint job' wasn't such a bad idea after all?"
Grace laughed delightedly.
Rachel spotted her mother's car approaching. She could see her peering round uncertainly looking for a parking space. "Got to go, Grace. See you later, all right?"
"Yes, and thanks, Rache."
Rachel followed her mother's car as it crawled along the row of earlier arrivals, eventually turning into a space at the end. Her mother, dressed in a white blouse and a wide, summery skirt with a pattern of red roses, climbed out.
"Hello, Mum."
Rachel felt a strange mixture of emotions. So much had happened in the nearly four weeks since her Dad had dropped her off in this very spot. She wanted to tell her mother all about it, but she was worried about how she'd react: Rachel had managed to get into a lot of trouble, though she didn't actually think she'd been that bad. She hadn't forgotten the episode over the kitchen table. She knew what her mother was capable of, though looking back it occurred to her it had been a kind of preparation for Miss Markham's new regime. She wondered what Miss Markham had told her mother in that letter she'd mentioned.
"Rachel! Darling!"
Patricia Thomas held her arms open with a delighted smile and Rachel felt immediately relieved and happy, stepping forward into a warm, heartfelt hug. Unfortunately, her mother followed this up with a familiar gesture which Rachel had forgotten was a habit of hers - a friendly but firm pat on her bottom.
"Ouch!" Rachel screeched and jumped back, wincing. Her hands flew to the back of her skirt. She noticed someone's father nearby looking curiously and she turned away in embarrassment.
"Heavens, dear!" said Patricia. "I'm ... sorry!" She put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Gosh! Are you really that sore?" she asked quietly. "What did you do this time?"
Rachel took a few breaths to ride out the stinging and throbbing set off by the maternal pat. "Oh ... well ... it's a bit of a long story actually..."
"I'm sure it is!" said her mother. "I'm sorry you're so sore, dear, but I expect you deserved it, didn't you? Was it Verily? Or one of the other mistresses this time?"
"I got ...twelve ... with Molly, I mean with Miss Markham's biggest cane, just this morn-..."
"Molly? Is Molly still in use? But Rachel, whatever did you do? It must have been something awful! Oh, I do hope you haven't embarrassed me. Now tell me - what did you do?"
Rachel felt tears stinging her eyes. She took a deep breath. "Well, it was two things really, but ... I owned up, Mum. I did it to save two girls from getting expelled. I started our own Society called SWACK and..."
"Called WHAT?"
"SWACK."
Despite herself, Patricia chuckled. Rachel explained what had happened, and about being out of bounds, and about Alice and Grace not being expelled after all.
"Well, that's not such a terrible thing, I suppose, but I'm sure Verily must have been considering everything else you've been up to, eh? Twelve is a lot of strokes, my dear. No wonder you're so sore."
At that moment the Headmistress appeared.
"Patricia!" Verily beamed with delight and opened her arms. A broad smile lit up Patricia's face. They embraced and then stood back, admiring each other.
"Verily, I must say you're looking ... wonderful!"
"You too, Patricia. What a delightful skirt!"
"Thank you."
They gazed at each other wonderingly.
"How long has it been?" said Verily. "Twenty-five years? It's extraordinary. You don't look so very different, you know. Mind you, I have had Rachel here to remind me of you."
"Yes," said Patricia, turning to her daughter. "And I've just been hearing about her latest bout of mischief-making. Verily, I'm SO sorry. I do hope she hasn't..."
"No, no, Patricia. Rachel is perfectly charming, and really a very good girl at heart. I was extremely harsh on her this morning but we had to set an example to the school. She was very brave and it's all forgiven and forgotten now." She gave Rachel a radiant smile which made the girl's tummy flip over.
"Thank you, Miss," said Rachel.
"So, Patricia, my dear, please tell me you will stay for dinner tonight. I'm afraid I shall be mostly taken up with this and that all day, but I will NOT allow you to leave before we've had a proper chance to catch up."
Patricia looked uncertain. "Well, Verily, it's rather a long journey and I did tell Richard I'd be home by nine. That means leaving by six really."
"Why don't you stay overnight and return in the morning? I can arrange a room for you - it would be such a delight to entertain you. Please, Patricia?"
It was very strange to see the Headmistress almost pleading as she was now. Rachel looked at her mother, wondering how she'd respond. After some hesitation, Patricia said,
"Well, why not? I can't resist! But I'll need to telephone home to let Richard know."
"Of course! Oh, I'm so delighted. Why don't we meet in my study at seven? Now I must move on I'm afraid." She turned to Rachel. "Look after your mother. She's very precious, you know."
"Yes, I know, Miss. Thank you, Miss."
"Is it Miss Markham?" asked a deep male voice. Suddenly Susie was at Rachel's side, touching her hand furtively.
Verily saw Susan and turned to the tall man with fair hair. "Mr French?"
"Yes. How do you do. Just wanted to say jolly well done. The place is looking marvellous - lovely bunting you've put out. And this one ... " He turned to Susan and ruf
fled her already tousled hair. "... is looking very well, I'm happy to say, though you'd think the hairbrush hadn't been invented yet." He turned to Patricia. "Mrs Thomas! How are you? It's a lovely day for it, isn't it? How was your journey?"
"Oh, not too bad, thank you, Mr French. The A64 was very slow I'm afraid."
"Ah! Usually is, Mrs Thomas. Next time I strongly advise the A19 - much quicker on weekdays." Susan looked embarrassed as her father continued. "I happen to have made an extensive study of traffic volumes, actually. If we systematically applied the right principles, we could save a fortune for the economy."
Unseen by her father, Susan rolled her eyes at Rachel who covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
"Indeed," said Patricia, frowning at Rachel but bemused herself by Mr French's enthusiasm. Verily chipped in politely, "You seem to have a very methodical approach, Mr French."
"I try my best, Miss Markham, try my best. Don't I, Susan?"
"Yes, father," said Susan, straightening her face quickly.
"Well, I must continue to make the rounds," said Verily to the two parents. She looked at her watch. "Lunch is in the dining-hall in five minutes. I hope you enjoy the day. I'm sure our paths will cross again."
She smiled at them and as she walked away to greet another family, Mr French said,
"Quite a remarkable woman, I hear."
"Yes," said Patricia. "yes, she is."
"You can't beat a good Headmistress," he said approvingly.
"No, indeed," agreed Patricia.
Susan turned to Rachel and added in a whisper, "No, but she can certainly beat you!"
---oOo---
Verily was just turning away having welcomed the Watsons when she noticed a tall man in a black suit standing by a green MG Midget. She walked over.
"Sir Stanlegh!" She held out a hand in welcome.
"Verily," he said, shaking it with a warm, firm grip and then holding it for a few seconds between both of his.
She gazed at him expectantly. "So ... you've come ..."
"Yes. I wasn't going to. I told Sir Wilfred I wouldn't be here till tomorrow, but ... well, plans change, you know."
"I dare say they do. We noticed the magpies. Why do they follow you around?"
"How's everything going?" he asked, ignoring her question.
She frowned and turned away for a moment, her chest rising as a look of distress crossed her face. She turned back to him and spoke fiercely. "You know perfectly well how things are going. Please don't waste my time ... my precious time. And I think I have a right to know at least a little about whatever it is you think you're doing ... with us all ... about who you are ... why you appear like this ... don't I?" Her tone had become tinged with pleading and there were tears in her eyes.
Sir Stanlegh stepped closer, looked around and then enfolded her in his arms, speaking softly into her ear. "Of course you do. You more than anyone. You're wonderful, you know, a beautiful, lovable woman." A small sob shook Verily as she leaned into his shoulder, then she pulled back and half looked around, anxiously conscious of her position and her duties.
"Don't worry." He smiled. "Nobody can see us."
"So..." she wiped away a tear and took a deep breath, "...what about the magpies then?"
"Well," he said, "I wanted to add mystique. I don't know why but I have a sort of spiritual connection with them, have done for years. They're faithful partners and their plumage is rather beautiful, don't you think?"
Verily shrugged.
"I like the symbolism of their being pied," he continued. "Our minds impose duality on all we think we see: light and dark, day and night, good and bad, right and wrong ... and black and white, though in magpies of course the black isn't really all black: they're dark blue and dark green in places. Badness is not always what it seems."
"All must be redeemed?"
"Yes, and you've done an excellent job."
"I'm not entirely sure I've done any such thing ... but I've done what felt right." She looked at her watch. "Anyway, it's lunch time, I'm hungry and I should be playing host at the buffet ... shouldn't I?"
He smiled. "Yes, you should."
He held her shoulders and gazed down at her. "I shall see you in the morning in the Hall and we'll see what happens."
"I suppose we will," she said gloomily. "Oh, by the way, the book ... this book?"
"Yes?"
"I got as far as Chapter 24, where you first appear. You do realise there are far too many canings, don't you? But I did enjoy Edith's diary entries. She's such a dear."
"Yes, she is," he said.
She turned to survey the car park to ascertain how many parents were still arriving or milling around. When she turned back, he was gone. With its long tail fanned out, a single magpie stood in the spot where he'd been, eyeing her with a gleam.
37. A Friend in Need...
Lunch was a great success, with the hubbub of talk complementing the clink of cutlery on plates as all-comers mingled happily. The huge spread of cold meats, salads, cheeses and breads, with trifles, chocolate cakes and fruit salads for dessert, was regularly replenished and when those girls without parents present were ushered in by Miss Bainbridge at half past one there was still plenty for everyone, much to Alice and Jenny's delight.
Fortunately for Rachel, there wasn't quite enough seating for all, obliging some to stand, eating with plates balanced on one hand whilst employing hand or fork in the other. Her mother and Susan joined her out of solidarity, Patricia refusing Mr French's gallant and repeated offers of his place at the end of a bench.
After lunch, guests were invited to tour the Art exhibition and at two-thirty the orchestra and choir performed in the Hall to a packed and appreciative audience, Miss Halsey blushing furiously when she was presented during the applause at the end with a bouquet by Helen Patterson (first violin).
Then the great majority made their way up to the First XI field for the three fifteen start of the annual match. The Old Croptonians had had first use of the changing-room and were already on the pitch warming up, twirling their sticks, making practice passes and shots and generally looking very professional - they were in fact amateurs, but they did play in the North Yorkshire Senior League and already had a 3 - 0 record for the season.
In the changing-room, the current crop were readying themselves. Rachel and Alice had, unsurprisingly, been the subject of surreptitious glances as they'd got changed, the key moment being the removal of their knickers, at which point several pairs of eager, gawping eyes had strained for a peek at the marks left by Molly in their very public caning. Rachel, being quite unconcerned if not even a little proud, ensured that most of the curious team-mates got a satisfying glimpse, although she managed to do so without making an exhibition of herself. And Miss Gibson had come over to ask how the two girls were feeling and whether the arnica had helped.
"Very sore, Miss," Rachel had replied, "but it helped a lot, thank you, Miss."
"Almost as good as new, Miss," said Alice with a wink, rubbing the back of her hockey skirt, at which everyone within earshot had laughed.
At ten past, Monica Gibson gave her charges their last minute instructions. She knew all of the Old Croptonian team, having coached them herself in earlier years, so she was able to give pointers as to some weaknesses in their defence which she was trusting Pearson and Bennett to exploit.
"But the main danger, girls, is their centre forward, Maggie Wagstaff. Some of you may remember her - she was Head Girl three years ago? She's a brilliant dribbler with a fearsome shot. Thomas, you're going to have to be as alert as you can and don't go charging in or she'll be past you in a flash - try to block her way to goal and get your stick in. Make a nuisance of yourself as much as you can - that shouldn't be too much of a challenge, eh?" She smiled at Rachel who opened her eyes and mouth wide in a show of shocked innocence - what, me?. Her teammates laughed. The spirit was good.
The cheer that went up as the Cropton girls ran onto the pitch made Rachel's heart leap wit
h pride. The entire school, supplemented by dozens of parents and other visitors, was ranged along the touchlines. She looked around for her mother and saw her near the halfway line with Susan, not far from where the Headmistress stood with Miss Bainbridge and the Chair of Governors. They were all clapping and smiling and Rachel gave her mother a shy wave before running down to the far end of the pitch to take up her position in defence. Her bottom hurt as she ran, the jiggling of her buttocks not surprisingly provoking her bruises into throbbing protest. The skin still stung fiercely too, her movement causing her knickers to rub against the raw stripes, but her joy in her status outweighed the pain, which for Rachel was not entirely unwelcome anyway. She was just turning to check that Alice was in position at left back and to wish her luck when she saw a familiar male face on the touchline. For a moment she couldn't place him but then he looked right at her and she flushed. It was Mr Pill. She frowned and turned away.
The whistle blew, the school screamed and the game got under way. Cropton were on the attack immediately, Gabrielle shielding the ball cleverly before releasing it to Julia in a good position, but to groans of disappointment her shot went wide. Play ebbed and flowed, mainly in midfield as passes went astray and both sides struggled to get a move going, but it wasn't long before Maggie Wagstaff was in possession: she received the ball just inside the Cropton half, facing her own goal, turned past Gabrielle with ease and raced forward. Rachel felt her heart pumping as the older girl came running toward her - she was so quick that Rachel had very little time to choose whether to go into the tackle or back away. Caught undecided, as the opponent loomed in front of her she made a lunge towards the ball but Wagstaff dummied left, went right, and Rachel found herself toppling as she tried to twist round to get at the ball. Wagstaff was past her and Rachel landed on the turf with a thump, squarely on her bottom.
"Yeeouch!" she screeched. Tears came to her eyes. A few moments later there was a shocked silence followed by groans, with a small cheer coming from over on the left where some Old Croptonian supporters were gathered. Damn! They'd scored.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 55