Fabulous Five 027 - The Scapegoat (4 page)

"Eleanore and I are going to the cinema on Friday,
Christie. Can you come?" asked Phoebe. The two of them, along with Nicki
and Eleanore, were standing in a corner near the stairs in front of St.
Margaret's.

"I'd love to," answered Christie. "Aren't you
going, Nicki?"

"I'm going with Davey," she replied. "He said
Connie was going to ask you to go. If you accepted, we'd double."

"Connie did ask me," said Christie. "I said
no."

"Still got a crush on that cove in the States, have
you?" asked Eleanore.

"I wish you guys could meet Chase," responded
Christie. "He's so good-looking, and he won six gold medals in swimming in
the Southern California Junior Olympics. In his last letter he told me he's
going to be trying out for the East Coast junior Olympics. I'm sure he'll win a
bunch more."

"Sounds like quite a chap," agreed Eleanore,
pushing her hair behind her ear. "Did you go with him very long?"

"No, not really," replied Christie, blushing. "We
were just starting to date, and I got grounded by my parents for breaking
curfew. He also told me some fibs. I think he feels really bad about it now."

"I'd take a baron over a fish any day," commented
Nicki.

"Baron?" asked Christie.

"Connie's father's a baron," said Phoebe.

"Wow!" exclaimed Eleanore. "I knew the
Farrells were some kind of cousins to the queen, but I didn't know Connie's father
was a baron."

"Does that make Connie a baron, too?" asked
Christie.

"The way it works is, Connie will inherit the title
from his father," explained Phoebe.

Baron Conrad Farrell
, thought Christie. It sounded
awesome! I've been turning down dates with a future baron. Melanie would
absolutely kill me if she ever found out.

During study hall that morning Christie returned the science
books she had checked out of the library and picked up two more. She crossed
her fingers and hoped that she'd find an idea for her science project in one of
them. All she needed was one idea that was special. She sighed. If she didn't
find it soon, she wouldn't have time to build it for the competition.

Christie was sure the headmistress and Miss Woolsey would be
fair judges, but she doubted very much that Miss Finney would give Christie a
high score, no matter how good her project was. One bad score and she wouldn't
have a chance.

Christie frowned as she thought about her science teacher.
There's
got
to be a reason why she doesn't like me. If I could only
figure it out, maybe I could do something about it.

Maybe Miss Finney thinks I'm not a serious student. But I
turn in all my homework. I ask questions in class. I even showed everyone that
optical illusion, but she said that was just a parlor trick. Christie sighed in
frustration.

As she opened one of the books, a thought flashed into her
mind. Miss Finney often talked about Oxford University so she probably went to
school there.

That's it!
Christie hit herself on the side of the
head with the heel of her hand. For some reason Miss Finney didn't think
Christie was serious about school. Christie would just have to tell her she had
always wanted to go to a great university. Now that she was finding out about
Oxford, it was the school she wanted to go to. She even hoped someday to get a
Rhodes scholarship to go there. Maybe then Miss Finney would look at Christie's
records and see how good her grades had always been.

She smiled and began flipping through the book. Having a
plan to solve her problem made her feel a lot better.

The first thing Miss Woolsey did in class was hand back math
assignments from the day before.

Christie couldn't help grinning when she got her paper. She
had gotten an A+. That shows I'm not
totally
stupid. If Miss Finney only
knew Christie was making A's in all her other subjects.

As usual Miss Woolsey paced up and down between the aisles
as she taught. When she came to Christie's desk, she frowned at the new science
books Christie had. The teacher looked at her for a moment and then continued
her lecture.

At the end of the class Miss Woolsey said, "I assume
everyone has chosen a science project and is progressing satisfactorily with
its development."

Christie knew the teacher was looking at her when she said it.
She wanted to slink down into her seat. Had Miss Woolsey guessed that she hadn't
made up her mind on a project yet? Christie gathered her things and hurried out
of the room before Miss Woolsey could say anything to her.

Christie's elation at getting a good grade in math was blown
away when Miss Finney gave back the tests in science. Christie had gotten a C.
And
after all the studying I did
, she thought.

"Whew!" whispered Becca, pretending to wipe
perspiration from her forehead. "Would you believe I passed? And I hadn't
even studied." She showed Christie her paper. Becca had gotten a C-. "It's
not the best grade I ever got," admitted Becca, grinning. "But I'll
take it."

Christie gave her a smile of encouragement and then started
searching through her own test to see why she hadn't done better.
Miss
Finney had taken off points for handwriting and grammar. On a science test!
Christie
couldn't believe it. There was hardly anything wrong with Christie's answers,
but there were points taken off all over the page.

She looked at Miss Finney, who was explaining something
about the test to Sarah Pike. With a C and a D-, Christie still didn't have any
decent grades in science. And what could she expect to get on her next homework
assignment or test? Or the science competition? More of the same!

Tears welled up in Christie's eyes. There was no way she
could talk to Miss Finney about wanting to go to Oxford University. At that
moment there was no way she could talk to Miss Finney about anything.

Christie crossed the small green park that gave her street
its name, Queen's Pudding Square. The park was bounded on three sides by
streets that formed a horseshoe. Four shade trees and a bench gave it a cozy
feeling.

Mrs. Mansfield was sitting on her front steps, warming
herself in the sun. Her cat, Agatha, slinked along the walk toward Christie.

"Hi, Mrs. Mansfield," Christie called, scratching
Agatha behind her ears.

"Hi, darlin'," Mrs. Mansfield called back.

Christie trotted up her steps and dug in her purse for her key.
She was glad her parents wouldn't be home from work yet. It would be hard for
her to cover up her unhappiness, and they would want to know what was wrong.

The day's mail lay on the floor inside the door, where it
had fallen when the postman shoved it through the mail slot. Christie scooped
it up and carried it to the kitchen.

Sorting through it quickly, she found a letter from Melanie
and put it aside. Next she went to the refrigerator to read her mother's note.

Christie
,

The chicken cacciatore is in the Crockpot. Turn it up to
medium
,
and make a salad. Thanks!

Love
,
Mom

Christie followed the instructions and then took her books
and Melanie's letter to her room.

She loved getting letters from her friends in The Fabulous
Five. Even though the other girls were thousands of miles away, she still felt
close to them. If only they were here for me to talk to now, thought Christie.
Things would be a lot better.

She opened Melanie's letter.

Dear Christie
,

I miss you SO much. When are you coming home?

If I only knew, thought Christie.

Things are about the same at Wacko Junior High. Dull
,
dull
,
dull.

Shane Arrington brought Igor to Bumpers the other day
after school. Mr. Matson said it was okay if Shane didn't let Igor on the
table. I guess Mr. Matson remembers the fuss my grandmother made about having
an iguana in his restaurant. Shane said Igor was thinking about writing his
life story and wanted to get out and be stimulated by people. He had Igor
dressed in a little beret with a scarf around his neck. I bet if Shane had
sunglasses that fit Igor
,
he would have put them on him
,
too.
Shane is absolutely crazy!

Chase told me he got a letter from you
,
but he
wouldn't let me read it
,
which reminds me of something terrible. Hold on
to your seat. I saw that rat Tammy Lucero walking with Chase in the school
hall. Later he was sitting with her and the rest of The Fantastic Foursome at
Bumpers. Beth and I told him he was a traitor, but he said he was just talking
to Tammy.

We think Tammy is after Chase! We're going to have a
Fabulous Five meeting and see if we can come up with a plan to sabotage her.
Count on us to protect your interests
,
Christie.

Christie put the letter in her lap. Tammy Lucero was after
Chase Collins!

"Tammy really is a rat," Christie said through clenched
teeth. "As soon as I'm gone, she tries to take over the guy I like."

Tammy and her friends in The Fantastic Foursome had caused
The Fabulous Five trouble ever since both groups had started the seventh grade.
Laura McCall was their ringleader. Melissa McConnell and Funny Hawthorne were
the other members. Tammy was small and dark-haired, and had large brown eyes.
She was also a big gossip.

Chase wouldn't fall for Tammy . . . or would he? Christie
had to admit that Tammy was pretty. She could also be disgustingly sweet when
she wanted to. Leave it to Tammy to make my life even more messed up than it
is, thought Christie. I bet Tammy's blinking her big eyes at Chase and hanging
all over him.

Christie clenched her hands into tight fists. What could she
do when she was so far away? Nothing. And what could her friends in The
Fabulous Five do to help her? Probably nothing, too. Christie wiped away a tear
that had started down her cheek.

After dinner Mrs. Fitzhugh called from across the courtyard
to ask if Christie would look after Jenny for an hour while she and her husband
went out to shop. Christie suspected Mr. and Mrs. Fitzhugh really wanted to get
away from their active three-year-old for a while. It was a school night, but
since it was for only an hour, Christie said she would.

"Walter and I appreciate ever so much your minding
Jenny on such short notice," said Mrs. Fitzhugh as she and her husband
were getting ready to leave. "It's wonderful that we have someone we can
trust who's so near."

Jenny's mother was tall and slender, and her hair and
clothes were very fashionable. Mr. Fitzhugh wore horn-rimmed glasses and
suspenders, and Christie had never seen him without a white shirt and bow tie.
He very seldom said anything except "How'd ja do?" to Christie. They
were very meticulous, professional-looking people.

"Jenny's upstairs," said Mrs. Fitzhugh. "If
it's possible, I'd appreciate it if you'd get her to finish her milk. You do
have a way with the child."

When they had gone, Christie started upstairs, calling, "Here,
puppy! Here, puppy!" Puzzled, Christie went up the stairs.

She opened the door to Jenny's room. "Here, puppy."
No answer. She looked under the bed. Jenny wasn't there.

Then she noticed Jenny's stuffed animals piled in the corner
next to her toy box. Aha! thought Christie, smiling. She got down on her hands
and knees and put her ear against the toy box. Did she hear something wiggling
inside?

"Here, puppy," she whispered. She raised the lid
of the toy box slowly.

"HISSS! SPAAAT!"
Some of the stuffed
animals next to Christie went flying, and Jenny jumped out at her.

"Eeek!"
cried Christie, dropping the lid
with a bang.

Jenny arched her back like an angry cat and swung her hand
like a paw.
"Psssst!"

Putting her hand against her chest to slow her heartbeat,
Christie said firmly,
"Jenny Fitzhugh, don't you do that again!"

The three-year-old's face lit up with a smile that spread
from cheek to cheek. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes were
wrinkled. No one would ever have suspected that she was the Fitzhughs' child.

"Why didn't you come when I called?" Christie
reprimanded.

"You were calling a puppy," responded Jenny. "I'm
a kitty."

Christie looked at the impish face in front of her. "Since
when did you start being a kitty?" she asked, pulling the little girl to
her.

"Two hunnert, one-fifty, million ago," said Jenny,
looking very serious.

"Well, little kitty," Christie said, "why don't
we go downstairs and have a saucer of milk?"

"Mmmm!" Jenny licked her lips.

After Jenny had finished her milk, she sat cross-legged in
her chair, pretending to lick her paws. Christie couldn't help smiling at the
three-year-old. With Jenny's great imagination, she'll probably be an actress,
like Beth Barry, Christie thought. I've got to remember to tell Beth about the
things that Jenny does.

Christie gave Jenny her bath, put her to bed, and had just
settled down in the living room with her homework when the phone rang. It was
Connie.

"I rang your flat, and your mum gave me the number
where you're minding," he explained. "Has Jenny bitten your leg yet?"
Connie had met Jenny at the Winchells' open house and knew about her dog act.

"No." Christie laughed. "But she tried to
scratch me. Jenny has decided she's a kitten now, instead of a puppy."

Connie chuckled. "I've a message for you from someone,"
he said.

Davey? Charlie? Christie wondered. "Who?" she asked.

"Rigel. He wants to know when you're going to visit him
again."

It was Christie's turn to chuckle. "I haven't been
asked."

"Well, Rigel would be mad at me if I didn't ask you and
he found out, wouldn't he? Can you go riding Saturday? My father and I could
pick you up on the way to our place in the country." Then he added
quickly, "It's not a date, though, you understand. So don't say no."

Christie smiled at the telephone. That was true. It wasn't
as if it were a real date, she told herself. It's more like riding her bike
back home with some boy she was friends with. "It sounds like fun,"
she said finally. "What time will you pick me up?"