More Trouble at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  She'd reached the far side of the crypt now. There was a memorial plaque set in the damp wall, the faded gold lettering half hidden under patches of mould. In Loving Memorie of the Ladye Emily . . . Rebecca shivered. She remembered now. Wasn't it the Ladye Emily who was supposed to haunt the crypt? The daughter of the nobleman who'd built Trebizon in the eighteenth century and the apple of his eye. She was supposed to have died tragically at the age of seventeen.

  Suddenly the plaque appeared to move. Rebecca jumped back, staring at it. The light was very dim this side of the crypt – were her eyes playing tricks? There was something not quite right about the plaque: it seemed to sit unevenly in the stone wall.

  Slowly, very slowly, Rebecca reached out a hand to touch it.

  This time it really did move! It seemed to be on secret hinges!

  Rebecca looked down to the floor – there were chunks of old mortar lying there. Somebody had pulled away the pieces of cracking mortar that held the plaque embedded in the wall and now –

  She took hold of the free edge and pulled it towards her. It opened like a little door! There was nothing behind, just darkness. Rebecca flashed on her torch and shone the beam into the darkness.

  'A secret tunnel!' she gasped. She began to shake. The dank, black hole confronted her menacingly but it wasn't ghosts she was frightened about any more, it was Mara. She cupped a hand to her mouth –

  'Mara!'

  Her voice echoed and re-echoed along the narrow tunnel, but no reply came. Quickly Rebecca shed her hampering cape and let it fall on the flagstoned floor. She hoisted herself up into the tunnel entrance and wriggled into it, glad of the thick jeans that protected her knees from the rough floor.

  She edged along on all fours, the torch gripped in her teeth. The tunnel grew wider, turned a corner, then suddenly narrowed again. The air was stale and suffocating. She rested on her elbows and took the torch in her hand again.

  'Mara!' she called.

  She moved the beam in an arc and realized that the tunnel had caved in further on, leaving only a very narrow opening.

  'Mara!' she called again, urgently. Her heart began to beat very fast. She crawled deeper into the tunnel until she reached the blockage.

  She flashed her torch through the narrow gap – and screamed.

  'Mara! Mara! Are you all right?'

  Mara was lying a few feet beyond the gap, trapped by what must have been the sudden caving in of the next stretch of tunnel. She was lying on her side, hopelessly pinned down. It wasn't possible to see her face because loose earth and small stones had buried it. But Rebecca recognized the white gossamer gown, peeping here and there through the rubble.

  'Mara!' whispered Rebecca. She must be suffocating! She must get to her, quickly, and get all that stuff cleared away from her face so that she could breathe properly –

  If it weren't too late.

  Rebecca tried to squeeze through the narrow gap, but her shoulders stuck. She wriggled and squirmed and tried to get through from every angle, but she couldn't. She started clawing away at the rocks, trying to make the gap wider, but they wouldn't budge and her hands started to bleed.

  'Mara!' Rebecca moaned.

  There was only one thing to do. Get the police, firemen, ambulance . . . they'd clear the tunnel and get through to Mara! Only by then, surely, it would be too late? She backed down the tunnel as fast as she could go, sobbing quietly, then lowered herself back into the crypt.

  'Rebecca!'

  Rebecca swung round, staring eyed.

  Somebody was running towards her, carrying a torch. Lucy Hubbard!

  'Mara's trapped in there – I can't get to her – she's suffocating –' wept Rebecca. 'I can't get through, I'm too big –'

  Lucy let her cape drop to the floor on top of Rebecca's and heaved herself up into the opening. Her face had gone very white, but she looked determined.

  'I'm small!'

  She disappeared into the tunnel. Rebecca climbed in behind her.

  'Hold your torch in your mouth. I'm right behind you. Keep going!' she gasped. Then, after a while: 'Look, there's the gap, ahead of you. Can you get through? Please say you can get through!'

  She caught up with her, by the gap. Lucy was peering through, flashing her torch. Then she turned and looked full into Rebecca's own torchlight. There was sheer terror written all over her face.

  'Can you?' whispered Rebecca. 'D'you think you could –?'

  The danger was obvious. The tunnel through there was completely unstable. Little stones and showers of dust were still slithering down on top of Mara: one wrong move in there might bury them both.

  'I'll try,' whispered Lucy.

  She slithered through the gap easily. Rebecca watched from her own safe vantage point as Lucy inched forward on her elbows until she reached Mara. There were some more light falls of debris. Nothing serious. Rebecca's face and hands were soaked with cold perspiration.

  'Careful, Lucy. Careful. Try and clear her face – don't make any sudden movements –'

  Delicately, fingers moving lightly, Lucy started to scoop the fallen debris away from Mara's face until the nose and mouth were clear. Then she bent her face close to Mara's and listened.

  The waiting was dreadful.

  Then there came a moaning sound, just as she'd heard earlier.

  'Mara!' cried Rebecca in joy.

  Mara's irregular breathing became more even and at last her eyes opened. She stared up at Lucy in astonishment.

  'I think Rebecca only just found you in time,' Lucy said solemnly.

  Mara was in a dazed state. It was some moments before she could speak and when she did, she sounded in a wild delirium.

  'Weren't you looking for a grotto?' she whispered. Lucy's eyes widened in surprise. But she quickly put a finger to her lips, like a nurse.

  'Sssh. Don't speak. Don't try and move. We've both got to keep very, very still while Rebecca goes and gets help.'

  Mara closed her eyes and Rebecca stared through the gap at her anxiously. But then, after a few moments, she opened her eyes again and gave an indignant little snort.

  'What are you looking so dramatic about, anyway?'

  Rebecca smiled and shook her head and began to squirm her way backwards out of the tunnel – convinced that Mara seemed to be in her right mind, after all.

  THIRTEEN

  DISMISSING THE PROBLEMS

  It took an hour to get Mara out, because the firemen had to make the tunnel safe first. Lucy Hubbard stayed with her the whole time.

  Six vehicles waited by the church while the rescue operation took place. There was an ambulance, a police car, a red van which had brought the special equipment, Papa's big black car, Miss Welbeck's car and Mr Hubbard's small blue saloon. It was still a very dark night, with no moon.

  One of the ambulance men attended to Rebecca's hands and bandaged them and then she was allowed to sit with Tish and the other three in Papa's car. Mr and Mrs Hubbard sat waiting inside the blue saloon car. Mrs Barrington, who'd given permission for the five friends to sit with Papa until Mara was brought safely out, sat with Miss Welbeck.

  They brought Mara out on a stretcher. She smiled and waved and everybody got out of their cars and cheered, even Miss Welbeck. Lucy walked behind the stretcher, supported by a police constable, her cape wrapped warmly round her.

  They all tried to get close to Mara as she was lifted into the ambulance. Papa took her small hand in his big one and gazed down into her face, long and hard. Then Mara asked for Rebecca to come up into the ambulance.

  In silence she put her arms round Rebecca's neck and hugged her.

  As Rebecca stepped down from the ambulance, they closed the doors. Then she turned and saw a small man in rimless spectacles. He was wearing a coat over his dark blue pin-striped suit. It was the man! Rebecca recognized him at once.

  For a moment, her stomach seemed to turn right over.

  But he was smiling and reached his arms out to Lucy.

  'Daddy!' cried Lucy, e
mbracing him.

  The five friends watched in astonishment.

  'It was Lucy's father behind the tombstone then!' whispered Elf.

  'I don't get it,' said Rebecca.

  Mrs Hubbard came over and joined her husband and daughter. She looked very subdued. Miss Welbeck was standing nearby in a white fur coat, thanking one of the police officers but at the same time watching the Hubbard family.

  'Trebizon's been a flop for you, hasn't it Lucy?' said Mr Hubbard, an arm round her small shoulders. 'Even your mother realizes that. It hasn't worked out for me, either. I've been hopeless without your mother – I even thought of kidnapping you from here, just to get her back.'

  'K-kidnapping me!' gasped Lucy.

  'That's right.' Her father nodded. 'Every time you phoned I could tell how miserable you were. It was bad enough having to play second fiddle to your mother's grand design for you, as though I didn't count! But for you not to be happy here – that was the last straw!'

  'But I'm going back to daddy now,' said Mrs Hubbard quickly. 'I'm leaving at half-term. I'll get a teaching job locally. We decided that this evening. And, of course, you'll have to leave when I do. Mrs Barrington's made that quite clear to us.'

  'The whole thing's been a disaster,' added Mr Hubbard.

  Rebecca & Co. were so fascinated by all this that they just stood there, open-mouthed, quite deliberately eavesdropping. Joan Barrington came over and broke them up.

  'Now, you lot, it's late. Papa's waiting to drive you back to Court House. He can take Lucy, too.'

  She went and got Lucy.

  'Say goodnight to your parents. You can see them in the morning.' Her voice was quite gentle. 'You've been a brave girl – so has Rebecca Mason –and I want you both to have hot baths and some cocoa and a good night's sleep.'

  The Hubbards watched the ambulance draw away through Churchgate. A minute later, Papa's car bounced off along the track across the school grounds to Court House, with all the girls on board. Lucy's parents looked sad.

  Miss Welbeck came over and spoke to them before getting in her car.

  'I'm just taking Joan Barrington back there too. Could we meet up at my home after that? Perhaps you'd like a hot drink, and really there's quite a lot to talk about.'

  Rebecca and Tish and Sue lay in their beds, still wide awake although it would soon be eleven o'clock. Rebecca had told them the story of how she'd found Mara, reliving every moment.

  'Curly was so relieved!' said Tish. She'd phoned him the minute they'd got back to Court House. 'They were turning grey with worry over at Syon. They think you're terrific, Rebeck.'

  'So do we,' added Sue.

  Finally, as they got very sleepy, their thoughts turned to Lucy.

  'Isn't it funny to think she was the one who might have got kidnapped!' observed Tish.

  'There's another funny thing,' said Rebecca. 'Now she's going I suddenly realize I'm going to miss her.'

  'What, in Court House?' asked Sue.

  'No. That's been a pain in the neck. In class, I mean. I've quite enjoyed trying to beat her in English and French and not always coming top.'

  To Rebecca's surprise, Tish murmured her agreement.

  'You're right. She's better at maths than me and it was getting boring coming top. I've got really good at maths, just trying to keep up with her.'

  'You two amaze me!' said Sue. Then she giggled. 'I can see I've been missing out. What a pity Lucy doesn't play the violin.'

  But as she lay there thinking, Sue began to get bothered about Lucy. Finally, with a huge yawn, she said:

  'It's a shame really. She didn't even have a boy friend – it was her father she kept phoning. She can't help the way she is. Maybe we'd have turned out like that, if we'd had Mother Hubbard for a mother.'

  On that sobering note, they all went to sleep.

  The log fire burned brightly in Miss Welbeck's sitting room. The Irish coffee was delicious, warm and comforting after the cold ordeal of waiting by the church. Mr and Mrs Hubbard began to feel at ease.

  Lionel Hubbard, in particular, found it a relief to be able to talk after all the tensions of the past few weeks. Miss Welbeck was not the sort of person he often came across in his job with the insurance firm, but he was beginning to feel a healthy respect for this woman who ran Trebizon. It was curious, the way he could talk to her freely.

  'We know Lucy's very clever and we've always wanted the best for her, both of us,' he said. 'But in the last year it's become an absolute obsession with Mary. It's got too much of a good thing. Moving away from home to live in here as a teacher, so we could get the reduction in fees, and she could keep a close eye on Lucy . . . ridiculous! I didn't count any more. It was breaking our marriage up –'

  Mrs Hubbard stared down at the carpet.

  'Don't go on, dear. We've agreed it was a mistake. We're both agreed on that now.' She looked up at Miss Welbeck, very unhappily. 'I'm sorry our daughter's turned out to have these behaviour problems. She's a complete misfit here. We quite understand that you must want her to leave.'

  'Want her to leave?'

  Miss Welbeck leaned forward and warmed her hands in front of the fire.

  'I don't want her to leave. I think Lucy will fit in very well, given a little time. As for the fee situation, I'm sure the Governors can look at that kindly. Lucy is an obvious candidate for a closed award.'

  Mr and Mrs Hubbard looked at one another in astonishment: and sudden pride.

  'But surely –' began Lionel Hubbard. 'Mrs Barrington says she refuses to have her in Court House any longer -'

  'Certainly!' agreed Miss Welbeck. 'She must go into Juniper House with girls of her own age. She'll have to observe all the restrictions they observe. She can continue to have her lessons with Form III Alpha, though. You see, it's perfectly simple. Academically, Lucy is way ahead of her age group and belongs with the older girls. Socially, she's immature. She's actually young for her age. Just a baby! She simply isn't ready to live with the middle school girls, but she is ready to take lessons with them. I'm sure the arrangement will work well.'

  The Hubbards got up to go. They were still subdued – although delighted. But Mrs Hubbard wasn't a person who could remain subdued for very long. Maternal pride started bubbling up to the surface again.

  'We're thrilled that you think Lucy has such promise!' she exclaimed at the front door. She turned to her husband with a look of triumph: 'You see, darling? Miss Welbeck doesn't think Lucy's a misfit. So my idea of bringing her here was right all along. Perhaps we ought to think again about my leaving so soon. Perhaps I should at least stay on until the end of the term –'

  As the principal opened the front door, she didn't mince her words.

  'You're the real misfit at Trebizon, you know, Mary. The trial arrangement hasn't been a success. I hate to say this, but I would rather you kept firmly to your resolve and resigned at half-term.'

  'Of – of course, Miss Welbeck.'

  Lionel Hubbard gave the principal of Trebizon an approving nod and gently steered his wife to the car.

  As soon as they'd gone, Miss Welbeck went to her study and looked up the private telephone number of George Leonodis in Athens.

  It had occurred to her once that Lucy Hubbard and Mara Leonodis were both in the same boat, each of them cursed with an over-protective parent. It looked as though she might have solved Lucy's problem. Now she had to try, yet again, to solve Mara's.

  When she got the Greek shipowner on his ex-directory line, she explained that his daughter was in the local hospital. She wasn't seriously hurt, but it might be a good idea for him to fly across and visit her. It would also provide the opportunity for the two of them to meet, as they'd never done so.

  They could have a good, long talk together.

  Mara spent Sunday in hospital. X-rays showed that no bones were broken, but she was badly cut and bruised in places. Now she needed rest and quiet for at least twenty-four hours, to get over the shock of it all.

  However, Rebecca,
Tish & Co. were allowed to visit her on the Sunday afternoon and bring Curly with them.

  Mara was overjoyed to see them, but she was worried because her father was flying over from Athens in his private 'plane. In fact Papa and Miss Welbeck had just looked in to tell her that they were on their way to the airport at Exonford. The 'plane was expected to land at five o'clock.

  'He's coming to take me away from Trebizon,' wailed Mara. 'I know he is.'

  They all told her not to be silly. She'd never been in any danger of being kidnapped and Miss Welbeck was most likely going to the airport especially to put in a good word for her.

  But they were worried, all the same.

  They gave her all the latest school news, just to take her mind off it. How Lucy would be staying, but going into Juniper. How Joss Vining was leaving and what a blow it was for Rebecca – Tish told her that. And how the roast potatoes had been as hard as iron at lunch time because of a power cut.

  An hour after her friends had left, Mara's father arrived.

  He strode down the ward, gold teeth flashing in his bronzed face, impeccably suited, his arms full of flowers. Nurses scurried forward to take them and put them in water, exclaiming over them, as George Leonodis sat down on the bed and embraced his daughter.

  Then he drew away from her, looking at the bruises on her face. There were tears of emotion in his eyes and he spoke in their own language.

  'My poor little girl! What a terrible business!'

  He took her hand and held it tightly.

  'I have something important to say to you,' he said.

  Mara's hopes plunged. She closed her eyes, waiting for the words –

  'I am sending Papa back to Athens.'

  Mara's eyes fluttered open in disbelief.

  'Daddy!'

  'I've been given a severe talking to by your Miss Welbeck,' smiled Mr Leonodis. 'What a pity we've never met before. A clever, beautiful English woman. As a matter of fact, I am taking her out to dinner tonight. She has promised to show me round the town. It's a very quiet, peaceful sort of place she says.'

  'What – what else did she say to you?' asked Mara in wonderment.