Upper Fourth at Malory Towers (12 page)

“June!” said Miss Potts, and the tone of her voice made the first-former almost jump out of her skin.

“Come with me, Darrell,” said Miss Potts. “And you, too, June.”

They followed her to her room, where Mam'zelle was correcting papers. She gazed in surprise at Miss Potts' grim face, and at the faces of the two girls.

“
Tiens
!” said Mam'zelle, gathering up her papers quickly, and beginning to scuttle out of her room. “I will go. I will not intrude, Miss Potts.”

Miss Potts didn't appear to have noticed Mam'zelle at all. She sat down in her chair and looked sternly at Darrell and June.

“What were you two doing?”

Darrell swallowed hard. She was already ashamed of herself. Oh dear—head-girl—and she had lost her temper like that! “Miss Potts—June has something to say to you,” she said at last.

“What have you to say?” inquired Miss Potts, turning her cold eyes on June.

“Well, Miss Potts—I just wanted to own up that I had been to a midnight feast,” said June.

“Hilda said that there had been no midnight feast,” said Miss Potts, beginning to tap on the table with her pencil, always a danger-sign with her.

“I know. It wasn't a first-form affair,” said June smoothly.

“I gather from Darrell's face that it was a fourth-form affair,” said Miss Potts.

Darrell nodded miserably. “Just the fourth-formers and you, June, I suppose?” said Miss Potts.

“Well—there were a few others,” said June, pretending to hesitate. “One from my form as well as me. I won't mention her name.”

“Felicity was there,” said Darrell. “But I take responsibility for that. She didn't mean to come. And Miss Potts—Betty Hill, and Eileen and Winnie were there, too.”

There was a silence. Miss Potts looked very grim.

“Girls from another tower?” she said. “I think you know the rule about that, don't you, Darrell? And what could you have been thinking about to invite two first-formers as well? Of course—Felicity is your sister—but surely...”

“I didn't invite her,” said Darrell. “And—well—I didn't exactly invite the West Tower girls either.”

“Don't let's quibble and make excuses,” said Miss Potts, impatiently. “That isn't like you, Darrell. I imagine you were quarrelling with June because she wanted to own up?”

Darrell couldn't trust herself to speak. She nodded. “I'm sorry I behaved like that,” she said, humbly. “I thought I'd conquered my temper, but I haven't. I'm sorry I shook you, June.”

June was a little taken-about at this apology, and looked uneasy. But she was very cock-a-whoop and pleased with herself. She was in Potty's good books for “owning up”, she had got Darrell into trouble, and Alicia would get into trouble too and all the others—and she, June, would get off scot-free!

“You can go, June,” said Miss Potts, suddenly. “I'm not sure I've got to the bottom of all this yet. Darrell had no right to be so rough with you - but as she never loses her temper now unless something very serious makes her angry, I am inclined to take your 'owning-up' with a pinch of salt. You may be sure I shall find out whether you are to be praised or blamed!”

June shot out of the room, scared. Miss Potts looked gravely at Darrell. “Darrell, you know that you will have to bear the responsibility for allowing girls from another tower into your tower at night, don't you?” she said. “And I cannot possibly pass over your behaviour to June in the music-room. Whatever provocation you had does not excuse what you did.”

“I know,” said Darrell, miserably. “I'm not a good head-girl, Miss Potts. I'd better resign.”

“Well—either you must resign, or you will have to be demoted,” said Miss Potts, sadly. “Sally must be head for the time being—till we consider you can take the responsibility again. If you can't control yourself, Darrell, you certainly can't control others.”

The news soon flew through the school. “Darrell Rivers has resigned as head-girl! Did you know? There has been a most awful row—something about a midnight feast, and she actually asked girls from another tower—and first-formers as well. Gosh! Fancy Darrell Rivers getting into disgrace!”

Felicity heard the news and was filled with the utmost horror. She went straight to June, quite forgetting that she was still in Coventry.

“Did you go and split?” she asked, sharply. “What has happened?”

Full of glee at all that had happened, June told Felicity the whole thing from beginning to end. “That will teach the fourth-formers to have a down on me and get me sent to Coventry,” she said. “I've paid Alicia back nicely—and my word, you should have seen Darrell's face when she was shaking me, and Miss Potts came in and saw her. I'm glad she's not head-girl of her form any longer. Serves her right!”

Felicity could hardly believe her ears. She was trembling, shivering all over. June noticed it with surprise.

“What's the matter?” she said. “You're my friend, aren't you?”

“I was. But have you forgotten that Darrell is my sister?” said Felicity, in a choking voice. June stared at her blankly. In her glee at being top dog she had completely and utterly forgotten that Darrell was Felicity's sister.

“I fed like Darrell—I could shake you and slap you, you horrid, two-faced beast!” cried Felicity. “As it is, I'm going to Hilda to tell her every single thing you've told me—that's not sneaking—that's reporting something almost too bad to be true! Ugh! You ought to be expelled. How could I ever have wanted you for my friend!”

And so the friendship between Felicity and June came to a most abrupt end, and was never renewed again. Susan was hunted out by Felicity and gave her the comfort she needed. June kicked herself for forgetting that Darrell was Felicity's sister; but the damage was done. Felicity had seen June in her true colours—and she didn't like them at all!

The fourth form were horrified at all that had happened. One and all they stood by poor Darrell, even Gwendoline coming to offer a few words of sympathy.

But Gwen's sympathy was, as usual, only on the surface. Immediately after she had been to tell Darrell how sorry she was, she was confiding to Clarissa that she really wasn't surprised that Darrell was in disgrace.

“I told you how she slapped me, didn't I,” she said. “And she pushed Sally over once. It'll do her good to be humiliated like this. I never did like Darrell.”

Clarissa looked at Gwendoline with a sudden feeling of dislike. “Why do you say this when you have just told her you're sorry, and that you'd do anything you could to put things right?” she said. “I think you're beastly, Gwen.”

And to Gwen's unutterable surprise, the meek, weak Clarissa turned her back on her and walked away! It had cost her a great deal to say this to Gwen, and she was crying as she walked away.

She bumped into Bill, off to ride on Thunder. “Here, look where you're going, Clarissa. I say, you're crying. Whatever's up?” said Bill, in surprise.

“Nothing,” said Clarissa, not wanting to say anything against Gwen.

Bill only knew one cure for unhappiness—riding a horse! She offered the cure to Clarissa now.

“Come for a ride. It's heavenly out now. You said you were allowed to ride if-you wanted to. There's a horse free, I know. Miss Peters is coming, too. She's grand.”

Another time Clarissa would have said no, because it was difficult for her to make up her mind to begin anything fresh, and she had not yet ridden at Malory Towers, although she had been told that she could. But now, touched by Bill's blunt kindliness, and feeling that she wanted to get right away from Gwendoline, she nodded her head.

“All right. I'll change into my jodhpurs quickly. Wait for me.”

And in fifteen minutes' time, to Gwendoline's enormous surprise, Miss Peters, Bill—and Clarissa swept past her on the cliff, riding fast, shouting to one another as they went.
Clarissa
! Well! She hadn't even known that Clarissa had riding things with her. And there she was, off with that awful Bill and that even more awful Miss Peters! Gwendoline really couldn't understand it at all.

Sally was made temporary head-girl. “I shall really share it with you,” she told the subdued Darrell. “I shall come and ask you everything and take your advice—and I bet it won't be long before you're made head-girl once more. Miss Grayling told me twice I was only temporary.”

Darrell had written to her parents and told them the bad news. They would be sorry and upset, but they had to know. “I thought I must tell you before you come to see me and Felicity at half-term,” wrote Darrell. “Please don't say anything about it when you see me, will you, because I shall howl! Anyway, dears, one good thing has come out of an this—Felicity's not friends any more with the horridest girl in her form, but with one of the nicest—Susan, that you saw at the gym display last term.”

Darrell had been very touched by the sympathy given to her by her form. The twins had been very nice, she thought, even though Ruth, as usual, had not said a word —everything had been said by Connie. And as for Clarissa, she had been almost in tears when she came to Darrell.

“I believe Clarissa's awfully nice, when you can get under her meekness and shyness,” said Darrell to Sally. “
What
a pity she has to wear those glasses! Didn't you think she looked beautiful when she took them off the other day—those deep green eyes, like water in a pool”

Sally laughed. “You sound quite poetical,” she said. “Yes, I like Clarissa now. Gwen doesn't quite know what to think about Clarissa going off riding with Bill, does she? I never knew Clarissa was so fond of horses! She and Bill gabble like anything about all the horses they have ever known—and Gwendoline looks on like a dying duck in a thunderstorm, trying to get a word in.”

“Half-term next week,” said Darrell. “Oh, Sally, I never dreamt when I was feeling so proud of being made head-girl that I'd lose my position before even half-term came. I'm a terrible failure!”

“Well—plenty of people would like to be the kind of failure you are!” said Sally, loyally. “You may be a failure at the moment—but you're a very
fine
failure. Darrell! You're a lot better than some people who think they're a success.”

Half-term would soon be coming! The school was giving all kinds of displays—an exhibition tennis match played by four of the crack school players—a swimming and diving display—and a dancing display in the middle of the great courtyard.

“And after that,” said Daphne, gloomily, “after that—the School Cert, exam! I feel awfully depressed whenever I think of it.”

“Think how light-hearted you'll be afterwards!” said Belinda.

“Yes—like you feel after going to the dentist,” said Clarissa. “You get all gloomy beforehand and then after you've been you feel awfully happy.”

Everyone laughed. They knew that Clarissa had had bad times at the dentist, and they knew that she hated the wire round her front teeth, put there to keep them back. She was hoping she could have it off before long.

“Once I've got rid of that wire and my glasses you won't know me!” she said, and shook back her mass of auburn hair.

She had been riding quite a bit with Bill, and Gwendoline had felt rather out of things. Clarissa rode extremely well, and could apparently manage any horse in the school stables—and had actually been permitted to try Thunder!

Gwendoline found the everlasting horse conversation between the two very trying indeed.

“I once rode a horse who ran away with me and jumped over a hedge before I had even learnt how to jump!” Clarissa would begin.

And then Bill would go on. “Did you really? I bet you stuck on all right. Did I ever tell you about Marvel, my brother Tom's horse?”

Then would follow a long story about Marvel. At the end Gwendoline would try to get a word in.

“I say—Clarissa, do you know where we are going for this afternoon's walk?”

“Not yet,” Clarissa would say. “Well, Bill, I simply must tell you about my father's old horse that lived to be over thirty. He...”

And so the horsy conversation would go on, till Gwendoline felt she could scream. Horses! Horrible great snorting stamping creatures! How she wished Clarissa had never gone out for mat first ride with Bill.

Gwendoline was beginning to be very much afraid of the coming exam. She was backward in her lessons, and because of her habit of picking other people's brains, and of copying their work, her own brains worked very badly when she had to think out something for herself. The exam paper had to be done with her own brains—she couldn't copy anyone's work then—and indeed Gwen knew perfectly well that Miss Williams would see to it that she, Gwendoline, would be seated much too far away from anyone else to copy!

She worried about the exam. She felt uncomfortably that she might possibly be the only person to fail—and what a disgrace and humiliation that would be! Her father would have a lot of hurtful remarks to make, and her mother would cry, and her old governess would look mournful, and say it was all her fault, she ought to have taught Gwen better when she was small. Oh dear—why did these beastly exams matter?

Gwendoline seriously considered the possibility of trying to see the papers beforehand—but that was silly, she knew. They were always locked up. She did not think to herself, “I am wrong to think of such a thing,” she merely thought, “I am silly to think there would be a chance of seeing them.”