by Kit Pearson
Pam had changed into one of her new outfits, an orange-and-black striped dress and orange suede shoes. “She looks like a wasp,” breathed Helen. The boy wore a maroon blazer, a yellow-and-maroon tie, which he was loosening, a crumpled white shirt and grey flannels. He had a round face and black hair that hung in his eyes.
Eliza stared at him curiously. He looked like any other boy. She didn’t see what was so special about him.
“He’s not so great,” scoffed Carrie. “He has pimples!”
Pam was doing all the talking. “This is our recreation time. Normally I’d be playing tennis. Did I tell you I was in the Intermediate Finals?”
“Show-off,” hissed Helen. “Okay, you guys—now!”
They opened their mouths and sang up as loudly as they could.
NORMAN! OOH-oo-ooh-oo-ooh-oo
ooh-oo-ooh
NORMAN! OOH-oo-ooh-oo-ooh-ooooh-oo-ooh
NORMAN! Norman, my love!
His face turning crimson, the boy looked around wildly. Pam grabbed his arm and pushed him inside.
Eliza, Helen and Carrie tumbled out of the bushes and rolled around on the lawn in convulsions.
“Oh! Oh! I can’t stop!”
“Did you see his face?”
“Did you see hers? It was perfect!”
“OOH-oo-ooh-oo-ooh-oo …” crooned Carrie.
Eliza clutched her stomach. “Stop!” she begged. “It hurts too much!”
“That’ll teach her not to be so boy-crazy,” pronounced Helen as they picked themselves up and hurried off to change.
PAM WOULDN’T SPEAK to them for the rest of the day. That evening she had to go and see Miss Tavistock. On Sunday Jean told them that the headmistress had been very upset about Norm’s visit. “And Miss Bixley got told off, too,” said Jean, her eyes round at the idea of her being the bearer of such gossip. “Boys aren’t ever allowed to visit. Pam was supposed to wait and get her sweater yesterday.”
Helen couldn’t resist continuing the joke. “When’s your boyfriend coming again, P.J.?” she said smoothly that evening. “We’d love to see him. You know, that was a good trick, the way you got him here. I think we could even count it as a dare.”
Pam turned to face Helen, clenching her fists as if she were trying not to hit her. Then her face crumpled into tears. “I hate you, Helen! You’re such a child, you and your stupid games. When are you going to grow up? You’ve never done a dare—you just give them to us. I bet you’re afraid to.”
Helen flinched, and her usually white face turned dull red. “You’ve never really done one either, have you, Pam?” she said softly. “I dare you to give me a dare. I’ll do anything you like.”
“What is all this commotion?” As usual the Pouncer appeared out of nowhere. “Get into bed at once. I’m turning out the lights and I don’t want another word!” Unlike Miss Bixley, who would have tried to discover what the matter was, she didn’t even notice Pam’s tears.
After the matron left they waited to hear if Pam would answer. Eliza listened to her subsiding sobs and decided she would apologize to her tomorrow for their trick.
Finally Pam spoke, so quietly they could barely hear. “All right, Helen, I will give you a dare. And you’ll be sorry, because it’s much worse than anything you’ve ever thought of yourself.”
16
A Tangled Web
T he dare that Pam whispered to Helen that night was so risky that Eliza, Carrie and Jean all tried to talk her out of it the next morning. It would mean breaking one of the school’s strictest rules.
“You’ll get caught,” said Carrie.
“And if you do, you’ll be expelled,” added Jean with a shudder.
These warnings just seemed to make Helen more determined. “Come on, Pam,” pleaded Eliza, “say she doesn’t have to do it. Or give her something easier.”
“She doesn’t have to do it,” said Pam coolly, not looking at Helen. “It’s up to her.”
Helen glared at her. “I’ll do it! I said I would, and I will. I’m not afraid. You’ll all have to help me, though.”
Eliza saw an escape route: surely Pam wouldn’t take part, for then she might get into trouble too. But Pam agreed; her anger made her unusually reckless.
Eliza considered that she could refuse to be involved, but that wouldn’t stop them if Pam was going to help anyway. And if Helen insisted on doing this, she wanted to make sure she did it as safely as possible.
“We’ll plan it tonight,” said Helen. “At least there’s still five more days until Saturday.” For the first time, she sounded nervous.
PAM’S CHALLENGE to Helen was to pretend to stay in on Saturday and then sneak out, stay away a few hours and return without being caught. They decided that Pam would come out with Eliza and Carrie to Eliza’s aunt and uncle’s, so Helen could meet them on the secret beach. “Otherwise,” said Pam, “how would we know you’d done it? You could just say you had.”
“Only you would do something like that, P.J.,” retorted Helen. The two of them were more hostile than they’d ever been. It was as if the flames of irritation that had licked at both of them all year had flared up into a blaze of antagonism.
Eliza hoped her aunt would say she couldn’t have any guests that Saturday, but Aunt Susan didn’t mind. “Bring them both along,” she said. “But what about Helen—doesn’t she want to come too?”
“She—she has to stay in and catch up on some work,” said Eliza. She hung up the phone feeling as if she had started events rolling and there was nothing she could do to stop them.
By the time Saturday morning arrived, however, they were beginning to feel excited about the dare. If Helen succeeded, it would be the most thrilling thing they had done. And after all, thought Eliza, in her English boarding school books the girls often sneaked out, sometimes even at night. Compared to stories, just leaving the grounds for an hour or two seemed tame.
Now that Eliza had experienced a real boarding school, however, she was amazed at how easy it was for the jolly schoolgirls in her books to escape for midnight feasts on the cliffs, or forays into town. Even if they were caught, they had usually done something heroic, like catching a band of smugglers.
At Ashdown, she could too easily imagine Miss Tavistock’s reaction to a student sneaking out on her own. And there was so much sharp-eyed supervision here that it was going to be very difficult for Helen to leave and come back without being detected.
They waited together in the hall to be picked up. Jean looked relieved to be going home as usual. They hadn’t asked her to come because they knew she didn’t want to take part.
Helen watched them leave, her round face particularly pale. “Goodbye, Helen!” Pam called back lightly as they trooped out the door with Uncle Adrian. “Have a good day!”
BY ONE-THIRTY they were sitting on the beach, waiting for Helen to arrive. Carrie and Pam were collecting mussel shells. Eliza perched on the look-out, gazing at the sparkling blue sea. It was a perfect day. The water danced in lively little waves as if it knew something exciting was going to happen. Hundreds of white sails dotted English Bay. One boat close to them flapped wildly for a second, then caught the wind and glided by. The sun-heated driftwood gave off a tarry smell.
Eliza wondered how Helen would manage to escape. They had given her several suggestions, but so much depended on whether Miss Tavistock stayed in or went out. Luckily Matilda, not the Pouncer, was on duty for the day.
Already something had almost gone wrong. After lunch Aunt Susan had said, “Why don’t we all go to the beach? The baby could play in the sand, and I’d like to tan my legs.”
“Oh, but …” Eliza blushed, unable to continue.
“I know,” teased her uncle, “you have some kind of private game going on, don’t you?” Eliza nodded gratefully.
The other two joined her on the rock. It was quiet for a Saturday. Then a seagull screamed “yow, yow” from an adjoining rock, and a teenage couple appeared with a blaring radio. Eliza glanced at them col
dly; she regarded the beach as her own property.
It was a quarter to two; where was Helen? She’d said she would leave the school at one. They watched the stone steps anxiously. “Maybe she won’t come,” said Pam. “I almost hope she doesn’t—it is pretty dangerous.”
Now you regret it, thought Eliza with exasperation. “She will,” she said stiffly. “Helen’s really brave.”
Carrie turned her head, then jumped up. “There she is!” They waved frantically as a round red-headed figure in a green jacket approached from far down the beach.
Helen flopped down breathlessly. Her eyes shone as she tore off her jacket, fanned her dripping face and wiped her glasses. “Whew! I got off way past the stop, so I just came down to the beach and started walking back. I figured I’d see you eventually, as long as I headed this way. Got anything to drink?”
They pulled out the pop and sandwiches they had saved for her. Helen gulped half the bottle down in one swallow. Eliza watched her with admiration. Helen was brave. Even Pam had to admit it: “You did it, Helen,” she said reluctantly, but her voice was fearful.
“Only half, though. I still have to get back.” Helen grinned proudly. “It’s great to think that nobody but you knows where I am.”
There was almost an hour before she had to catch the bus back. They stretched out and roasted in the sun, and even paddled briefly in the icy water, while Helen told them how she had got away. “The rest of them went to a movie, but I told Matilda I was going to stay behind and study. She won’t bring them back until at least four-thirty. After Charlie drove off, I just walked out the gate, then ran until I could wait for the bus without being seen. It was easy.”
IT WASN’T EASY to watch her leave. Helen didn’t want to go so soon. “I could stay another hour,” she complained. But the others, especially Pam, wanted her safely back at school.
“Do you have enough money?” she asked, as they walked to the bus stop.
Helen smirked wickedly at her. “Sure, P.J. Don’t look so worried. This was your idea, remember.”
They stood there apprehensively after the bus had carried Helen away, all the serenity of their hour in the sun spoiled. “This is the worst part,” said Eliza, leading the others back to her uncle’s house. “What if someone sees her come in?”
“They won’t,” said Carrie. “She has lots of time. Everyone will still be out except for the kitchen staff, and they won’t notice.”
“I still can’t believe she actually did it,” said Pam.
AFTERWARDS, ELIZA WONDERED what instinct made her say to her aunt, an hour later, “Can we go back to school now?”
“Now! But, Eliza, what about dinner? I’ve just put the roast on!”
“I don’t feel well,” said Eliza. “I think my stomach is upset. I’m sorry, Aunt Susan, but I’d really rather go back now.”
“Poor dear—but why don’t you lie down here for a while?” Eliza insisted, however, and the others said they would return with her.
Eliza’s stomach was upset, with anxiety, by the time they reached Ashdown. What if Helen wasn’t here? And she hated the puzzled look on Aunt Susan’s face. Eliza had always kept her boarding life and her Saturday life in strictly separate compartments. This dare was mixing them up too uncomfortably.
There was no one in the hall to greet them. “Shall I go and look for a matron?” said Aunt Susan.
“It’s all right,” said Eliza hastily. “We’ll find one.”
They could hear the baby screaming in the car. “You be sure to tell her to put you right to bed, Eliza,” said her aunt. “I’ll phone you tomorrow to see how you are.”
Miss Monaghan and nine boarders were in the dining room, noisily making lemonade. The matron looked up with surprise. “What are all of you doing here?”
“My aunt and uncle had to go out unexpectedly, so they brought us back early,” said Eliza tightly. Another lie—how many had she told today? She thought of a Scott quotation they had memorized that week: “O what a tangled web we weave / When first we practice to deceive.” But there were more urgent matters to worry about than lying: where was Helen?
Miss Monaghan squeezed a lemon vigorously. “That’s too bad. But sit down and have some lemonade. Helen must still be studying over in the library—that’s unusual! Why don’t one of you go and fetch her? I have to lock the school building soon anyhow.”
“I will!” offered Eliza.
She returned, puffing heavily, a few minutes later. “Helen says she doesn’t want any lemonade. I don’t either. Miss Monaghan, can we play outside until supper? Carrie and Pam, do you want to come?” She looked at the other two desperately.
Miss Monaghan shrugged. “As you wish. Supper is at five—I’ll ring the bell.”
HELEN HAD NOT RETURNED. The three of them sat on the swings in silence trying to absorb this fact. Struggling not to cry, Eliza scraped the dust with her toe every time her swing came forward.
They had searched everywhere—all the classrooms, the dorms, the gym, the tennis courts, the woods and the playing field. “We’ll just have to fake it until she comes,” said Eliza finally. “Maybe she’s only late.”
“But she can’t walk in the gate now. Someone might see her!” said Carrie. Already Miss Tavistock’s little grey car had pulled up, and the matrons who had the day off would return any moment.
Pam put on her dorm-head look. “I think we should tell Miss Tavistock. Something could have happened to her. Helen’s not used to large cities. She may have been hit by a car!”
“Or kidnapped!” added Carrie.
“Stop it!” Eliza stood up and faced them. She couldn’t check her tears now. “Please, let’s wait a little while at least. If we tell, we’ll all be in terrible trouble—especially Helen. She could still sneak in. We just have to cover for her until she does.”
Finally she persuaded them to wait two hours, but Pam said she would tell after that. Eliza realized there wasn’t much choice—perhaps something had happened to Helen. But she pushed this thought out of her mind as they tackled the immediate problem of what to do about supper.
SICKNESS SEEMED TO WORK as an excuse for anything. Now it was Helen who languished upstairs with an upset stomach. “I’ll just nip up and check on her,” said Miss Monaghan, turning into a nurse at once when they had told her this.
“Oh, no—she’s gone to sleep and she doesn’t want to be disturbed,” said Carrie guilelessly. Eliza watched her earnest face; Carrie was a much better liar than herself.
“Well … after supper then,” said Miss Monaghan. She showed them all how to make an Egg-in-a-Hole. Normally they would have enjoyed being allowed to cook, but none of the members of the Yellow Dorm could eat much.
After supper Eliza and Carrie dashed upstairs. Carrie got into Helen’s bed and pulled the blankets over her face. Eliza drew the curtains and turned out the lights. Then they waited for Miss Monaghan.
“Is she any better?” the nurse whispered, peeking in at the door.
“Still asleep,” said Eliza, coming out and closing it behind her. “I was just checking.”
“She should go into the sickroom, but it probably isn’t anything catching, and I don’t want to disturb her. I have to go out now. You be sure to let Miss Bixley know she’s ill.” Miss Monaghan hurried away humming. It was her night off, and she probably had someone to meet as usual.
They were fairly safe now until it was time to get ready for bed, and that was more than three hours away. Saturday evenings were usually a blur of confusion. People started returning from their days out around seven, and before that those who had stayed in could do as they liked.
Eliza, Carrie and Pam decided to watch TV. They had replaced Carrie under the covers with Pam’s pink rabbit. With its ears folded back under its head, it looked just like a person rolled up in the blankets. Miss Bixley, who had returned and accepted their story easily, was now safely established in the matrons’ sitting room.
Television made a convenient vacuum in wh
ich to think. Eliza stared at the screen blankly, her mind in a frantic whirl. Pam’s two-hour grace period had passed, but she seemed to have forgotten, or else she was just working up her courage to tell.
What should they do? A horrible suspicion had lodged itself in Eliza’s mind: what if Helen had run away? She remembered her look of contentment on the beach because nobody knew where she was. Eliza thought Helen seemed happier now, but it was always hard to tell with her unpredictable friend. Surely she would let Eliza know if she was planning something so drastic. But would she? Eliza remembered the Pound Money and wriggled with anxiety.
She had just decided they would have to go to Miss Tavistock when the phone rang.
“It’s for you, Eliza,” called Miss Bixley. “It’s your aunt.”
Bother fussy Aunt Susan; Eliza hoped she hadn’t told Miss Bixley she was supposed to be sick. Fortunately the phone was located in a private alcove away from all the sitting rooms and Miss Tavistock’s study.
“Eliza? It’s me. Don’t act surprised, just listen very carefully. I had a hard enough time faking your aunt’s voice.”
Relief flooded through Eliza. “Are you okay, Helen?” she whispered.
“Sure, but I’m really in a fix. I did a dumb thing—I got off the bus and hung around Dunbar Street, and I forgot I had no more money to get on it again.”
“Where are you?”
“In a park near the Dunbar Theatre. Have they discovered I’m gone?”
“Not yet. We’re saying you’re sick in bed.”
“Great! Keep it up. I’ll wait until it’s dark and no one can see me, then I’ll come up the fire escape.”
“Oh, please be careful, Helen! We’ll do our best.” Eliza’s hand trembled as she replaced the receiver.
She got Carrie and Pam away from the TV and they had another conference in the gym, after informing Miss Bixley they were going to practise basketball shots.
“We have to tell,” insisted Pam, as soon as they left the residence. “It’s way past the time I said I’d wait.”
“Shh!” Eliza hurried her inside the gym door, then she told them. “Helen phoned! She’s okay! It could all work out now, Pam, you have to see that! She’s counting on us.”