Upper Fourth at Malory Towers (6 page)

The girls grumbled because they had to work so hard in that lovely summer term. “Just when we want to go swimming, and play tennis, and laze about in the flowery courtyard, we've got to stew at our books,” said Alicia. “I shall take my prep out into the open air tonight I bet Miss Williams would let us.”

Surprisingly Miss Williams said yes. She knew that she could trust most of the Upper Fourth not to play about when they were supposed to be working, and she thought that Darrell was a strong enough head-girl to keep everyone up to the mark if necessary. So out they went after tea, and took cushions to sit on, in the evening sun.

Gwendoline didn't want to go. She was the only one, of course. “You really seem to
loathe
the open air,” said Darrell, in surprise. “Come on out—a bit more fresh air and exercise would take off some of your fat and get rid of those spots on your nose.”

“Don't make personal remarks,” said Gwendoline, nose in air. “You're as bad as Alicia—and everyone knows she's been dragged up, not brought up!”

Clarissa, who was with her, looked at Gwendoline in surprise. Gwen had been so sweet and gracious to her that it was quite a shock to hear her make a remark like this. Gwen was quick to see the look, and slipped her arm through Clarissa's.

“If
you're
taking your prep out, I'll take mine, of course,” she said. “But let's sit away from the sun. I hate getting freckled.”

Betty saw Alicia sitting out in the courtyard and came to join her. Darrell frowned. Now there would be nonsense and giggling and no work done. Belinda and Irene began to listen to the joke that Betty was telling Alicia, and Irene gave one of her sudden explosive snorts when it was finished. Everyone looked up, startled.

“Oh, I say, that's super!” roared Irene. “Here, Betty, tell the others.”

Darrell looked up. She was head-girl of the form, and she must stop this, she knew. She spoke out at once.

“Betty, stop gassing. Alicia, you know jolly well we're supposed to be doing our prep.”

“Don't talk to me as if I was a first-former,” said Alicia, nettled at Darrell's sharp tone.

“Well, I shall, if you behave like one,” said Darrell.

“She's glinting, Alicia—look out, she's glinting! “ said Irene, with a giggle. Everyone looked at Darrell and smiled. Darrell certainly had a “glint” in her eye.

“I'm not glinting,” she said. “Don't be idiotic.”

“I glint, thou glintest, he glints,
she
glints!” chanted Betty. “We glint, you glint, they glint! “

“Shut up, Betty, and go away,” said Darrell, feeling angry. “You don't belong to our prep. Go and join your own.”

“I've done it, Miss Glint,” said Betty. “Shall I help you with yours?”

To Darrell's horror, she felt the old familiar surge of anger creeping over her. She clenched her fists and spoke sharply to Betty again.

“You heard what I said. Clear out, or I'll take the whole of this prep back indoors.”

Betty looked angry, but Alicia nudged her. “Go on. She's on the boil already. I'll meet you after we've done prep.”

Betty went, whistling. Darrell bent her red face over her book. Had she been too dictatorial? But what were you to do with someone like Betty?

Nobody said anything more, and prep went peacefully on, accompanied by one or two groans from Irene and deep sighs from Gwendoline. Clarissa sat beside her, working slowly. Gwen copied whatever she could. Nobody could cure her of this habit, it seemed!

After an hour Miss Williams came into the courtyard, pleased to see the North Tower Upper Fourth working so peacefully and well,

“Time's up,” she said. “And I've a message from your games mistress. The pool is just right now for bathing, so you can all go down there for half an hour, as you had to miss your bathe yesterday.”

“Hurrah!” said Irene, and threw her book into the air. It went into the nearby pool, and had to be retrieved very hurriedly. “Idiot!” said Belinda, almost falling in herself as she tried to fish out the book. “I suppose you think that's your history book you're drowning. Well, it isn't—it's mine.”

“Have we all
got
to go?” Gwendoline asked Miss Williams, pathetically. “I've been working so hard. I don't feel like swimming.”

“Dear me—can you actually swim yet, Gwendoline?” said Miss Williams, with an air of surprise. Everyone knew that Gwendoline could still only flap a few strokes in the water and then go under with a scream.

“Oh, we don't
all
need to go, do we?” said Mary-Lou, who could swim, but still didn't like the water much. Neither did Daphne, and she added her pleas to the others.

“You're all going,” said Miss Williams. “You are having to work very hard, and these little relaxations are good for you. Go and change at once.”

Thrilled at the thought of an unexpected evening bathe, Darrell, Sally and Alicia rushed to the changing-room. Darrell had forgotten her annoyance with Alicia, but Alicia hadn't. Alicia bore malice, which was a pity. So she was rather cool to Darrell, who, most unfortunately for Alicia, didn't notice the coolness at all. The others followed, chattering and laughing, with a rather mournful tail composed of Gwen, Daphne and Mary-Lou. Clarissa came to watch. She was not allowed to swim or to play tennis because she had a weak heart.

“Lucky thing!” said Gwendoline, getting into her bathing suit. “No swimming, no tennis—I wish
I
had a weak heart.”

“What a wicked thing to say,” said Darrell, really shocked. “To wish yourself a thing like that! It must be simply horrible to keep on and on having to take care of yourself, and thinly 'I mustn't do this, I mustn't do that.'“

“It
is
horrible,” said Clarissa, in her small shy voice. “If it hadn't been for my heart I'd not have been taught at home—I'd have come to school like any other girl. It's got much better lately though, and that's why I was allowed to come at
last
.”

This was a long speech for Clarissa to make. Usually she was quite tongue-tied. As it was, she went red as she spoke, and when she had finished she hung her head and tried to get behind Gwendoline.

“Poor old Clarissa,” said Gwendoline, sympathetically. “You mustn't do too much, you know. Would you know if you had done too much?”

“Oh, yes. My heart begins to flutter inside me—as if I had a bird there or something,” said Clarissa. “It's awful. It makes me want to lie down and pant.”

“Really?” said Gwendoline, pulling her towel-wrap round her. “Well, you know, Clarissa, I shouldn't be a bit surprised if
I
hadn't a weak heart, too, that nobody knows about. If I try to swim for long I get absolutely panicky—and after a hot game of tennis my heart pumps like a piston. It's really painful.”

“Nice to hear you have a heart,” said Alicia, in her smoothest voice. “Where do you keep it?”

Gwendoline tossed her head and went off with Clarissa, “Beast, isn't she?” her voice floated back to the others. “I can't bear her. Nobody likes her really.”

Alicia chuckled. “I'd love to know what sort of poisonous nonsense Gwendoline Mary is pouring into poor Clarissa's ears,” she said. “I don't think we ought to let Gwendoline take complete charge of her like this. It's not fair. You ought to do something about it, Darrell. Why don't you?”

Darrell did not like this direct attack. She suddenly realized that Alicia was right—she ought to have made certain that Gwen didn't take such utter and complete charge of the rather weak little Clarissa. She would get all the wrong ideas in her very first term—and the ideas you had at the beginning were apt to stick!

“All right,” she said, in a rather snappy tone. “Give me a chancel Clarissa has only been here a few days.”

“My dear Darrell, you're glinting again,” said Alicia, with a laugh that provoked Darrell even more. She took hold of herself hastily. Really, she was getting quite touchy!

It was fun down at the pool. The good swimmers had races, of course. Mary-Lou bobbed up and down in the shallow end, swinging a few strokes every now and again. She always got in quickly, even though she hated the water. Daphne was in, too, shivering as usual, but bobbing beside Mary-Lou, hoping that Darrell wouldn't make her join in the racing. Mavis was swimming slowly. She bad got over her dislike of the water, but had to be careful not to over-swim, or play too much tennis because of her illness the year before.

Only Gwendoline still stood shivering on the brink. Alicia, Sally and Darrell longed to push her in, but it was too much fag to get out of the pool.

“If Gwen doesn't get in soon, she won't get in at all,” said Alicia. “Order her in, Darrell! Go on, put that glint in your eye, and give one of your orders!”

But not even Darrell's shouts persuaded poor Gwendoline to do more than wet her toes. She had got hot sitting in the courtyard and now the pool felt icy-cold. Ooooh!

It was Clarissa who made her get in. She came running up to stand beside Gwendoline, slid on a slimy patch of rock, bumped hard into Gwendoline, and knocked her straight into the water!

Splash! In went Gwendoline with a terrible yell of fright. The girls clutched at one another and laughed till they cried. “Look at poor Clarissa's face,” wept Darrell. “She's simply horrified!”

“Who did that?” demanded a furiously angry Gwendoline, bobbing up, and spitting out water. “Beasts, all of you!”

When Gwendoline heard that it was Clarissa who had pushed her in, she didn't believe it. She made her way over to where an apologetic Clarissa was standing.

“Who pushed me in, Clarissa?” she demanded. “They keep saying it was you, the idiots! As if you'd do a thing like that!”

“Oh, Gwendoline. I'm so very sorry but actually it was me,” said Clarissa, quite distressed. “I slipped and fell, and bumped against you—and in you went. Of
course
I wouldn't have done it on purpose! I'm most terribly sorry about it!”

“Oh, that's all right then,” said Gwendoline, pleased to see such a very apologetic Clarissa. “It did give me an awful shock, of course—and I hurt my foot against the bottom of the pool—but still, it was an accident.”

Clarissa was more apologetic still, which was balm to Gwendoline's wounded feelings. She liked to have the Honourable Clarissa apologizing so humbly. She made up her mind to be very sweet and forgiving, and then Clarissa would think more than ever what a nice friend she was for anyone to have.

But the others spoilt it. They would keep coming up and yelling “Jolly good push!” to Clarissa, and “Well done, Clarissa—you got her in nicely!” and “I say, Clarissa, that was a fine shove. Do it again!”

“But I
didn't
push her,” protested Clarissa, time and time again. “You know I didn't.”

“Never seen such a good shove in my life!” said Alicia, and really, Gwendoline began to be quite doubtful as to whether Clarissa really had meant to push her or not! Then unfortunately Clarissa suddenly saw the funny side of all the shouted remarks and began to laugh helplessly. This made Gwen really cross, and she was so huffy with Clarissa, that in great alarm, Clarissa began to apologize all over again.

“Look at the twins,” said Alicia to Sally. Sally looked and laughed. Connie was carefully rubbing Ruth dry, and Ruth was standing patiently, waiting for her sister to finish.

“Why doesn't Connie leave her alone?” said Sally. “Ruth can do everything for herself—but Connie always makes out she can't. She's too domineering for words!”

“And she's not nearly so good as Ruth is at lessons,” said Alicia. “Ruth helps her every night, or she would never do the work. She's far behind Ruth.”

“And yet she domineers over her the whole time!” said Darrell, joining in. “I hate to see it—and I hate to see Ruth putting up with it, too.”

“Speak to her about it,” said Alicia at once. “Head-girl, aren't you?”

Darrell bit her lip. Why did Alicia keep on and on twitting her like this? She thought that perhaps it was partly envy—Alicia knew she would not really make a good head-girl herself, and envied those who were, and tried to make them uncomfortable. She, Darrell, ought not to take any notice, but she couldn't help feeling annoyed about it

“You've got a lot on hand now, haven't you,” went on Alicia, rubbing herself dry. “Looking after young Felicity—seeing that Clarissa doesn't get too much poison from dear Gwendoline, trying to buck up Ruth a bit, and make her stand up for herself—ticking off Betty when she spoils our prep.”

Darrell felt herself beginning to boil again. Then a cool hand was laid on her shoulder, and she heard Sally's calm voice. “Everything in good time! It's a pity to rush things and spoil them—isn't it, Darrell? You can't put things right all at once.”

Darrell heaved a sigh of relief. That was what
she
ought to have said—in a nice calm voice! Thank goodness Sally had said it for her!

She gave Sally a grateful smile. She determined to look up Felicity a bit more, and try to prise her away from that objectionable June. She would put one of the others on to Clarissa to offset Gwendoline's influence—and she would certainly have a few quiet words with Ruth, and tell her not to let Connie make such a baby of her.

“Why,” thought Darrell, “It's quite absurd—whenever any of us speak to Ruth, Connie always answers for her. I really wonder she doesn't answer for her in class, too!”

It was quite true that Ruth hardly ever answered for herself. Alicia might say to her, “Ruth, can you lend me that French dicky for a moment,” but it would be Connie who said, “Yes, here's the dictionary—catch!”

And Sally might say, “Ruth, don't you want a new ruler—yours is broken,” but it would be Connie who answered, “No, thanks, Sally, she can use mine.”

It was annoying, too, to see how Connie always walked a little in front of Ruth, always offered an explanation of anything before her twin could say a word, always did any asking necessary. Hadn't Ruth got a soul of her own—or was she just a weak echo or shadow of her stronger twin?

It was a puzzle. Darrell decided to speak to Ruth the next day, and she found a good chance when both of them were washing painting-jars in the cloakroom.