We’d found the perfect dresses for us to wear to the dance at the end of the year and I couldn’t wait to wear mine. Annie and Jemima had been jealous they hadn’t been with us, and we’d been leaving the very next morning and so they’d had no to time to go. That was what they got for choosing to sit by a fountain and watch cute boys, rather than go with their friends to pick out clothes.
It was all about priorities…
I went home to Monaco for the Christmas holidays, and enjoyed getting to see Mummy, Daddy, Augustus and Louisa. The weather and I got better acquainted also, as winter in the south of France was vastly preferable to the winter in Kent.
The days were spent getting caught up with friends and spending quality time with my family. That quality time included searching Louisa’s bedroom for my things the little thief had stolen.
On Christmas Day we were all spoilt rotten as we always were. There were parcels of clothes and makeup, new shoes and a stack of great CDs. The whole family went to church for the special Christmas service then later enjoyed a delicious dinner cooked by Aimee. Thankfully there were no chases with decapitated poultry heads.
The two weeks went by all too quickly and before I knew it I was at the airport again heading for Britain. Mummy hugged me tight before I boarded the plane, whispering in my ear for me to be good and that she would see me soon.
On my return to school, the pressure to do well in my A Levels really amped up. Classes were more intense, more homework was given and all my free time seemed swallowed up by revision…that I may or may not have always given my full attention to.
Most girls were up late into the night as we kept up with our schoolwork, and it ate into my valuable sleep time. But, thanks to extreme exhaustion, I’d discovered a brilliant way of sneaking in a little bit more sleep. The sound of Matron banging on girls’ bedroom doors one morning had woken me up. How, I have no idea, as I’d been virtually unconscious thanks to being up so late the night before. In my drowsy state, I’d jumped out of bed and dived into my tiny cupboard. I had just pulled the door closed when Matron had knocked loudly on my room door and opened it.
“Well, at least some of them can get up in time,” she had mumbled.
And once the door had closed again behind her, I’d eased out of the cupboard and jumped back into my warm bed for another half an hour’s kip.
It was genius, really.
Apart from the cupboard really being too small to hold a girl of my height, it worked a treat and I had been doing it every morning since.
Athena and I walked to physics class after morning prayers in mid-February, taking our sweet time since we were in no hurry to subject ourselves to Mr Pennington and his delightful personality.
“In your own time, girls,” Mr Pennington said, narrowing his shrewd little eyes as we entered the classroom.
“Sorry, Mr Pennington,” we chorused. Athena and I shared a glance and rolled our eyes once his back was turned.
We took our seats at our lab table with Chloe and Rachel.
“God, I hate this class,” Athena grumbled as she took out her textbook.
“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “The worst part of the day. I can’t wait for the year to be over. Not long now, though, I suppose.”
Chloe slid her eyes over to where Mr Pennington stood in front of his chalkboard, scribbling indecipherable notes. “Play a trick on him, Freddie.”
I balked at Chloe. “What! Why me?”
“Because you always get away with everything,” Chloe said. She leaned in closer to me. “Go on, it will cheer us all up. Everyone hates this class.”
Athena tapped me on the arm with her pen. “Yeah, go on, Freddie. I need something to help get me through another one of his boring classes.”
A school secretary tapped on the classroom door, and Mr Pennington put down his chalk to go and talk to her.
I winked at the girls at the lab table and crept to the front of the classroom. Mr Pennington had his back to me as he talked in a low murmur to the secretary. I swiped a few pieces of chalk from his desk and placed them quietly on his chair.
There were muffled giggles as I did an exaggerated tiptoe walk back to my stool.
Just as I sat myself back down, Mr Pennington finished his conversation with the secretary and headed back to the chalkboard. He continued his scribbling and a few girls tittered.
It was an agonising five minutes before he finished. Mr Pennington instructed us to work through the experiments he had written on the chalkboard. A couple of girls groaned, and he shot them a look that quickly quietened them. Mr Pennington liked complete silence in his class, and I had earned myself more than my fair share of lines already by chatting to Athena.
At our lab table, we all held our breath as Mr Pennington lowered himself into his chair. He didn’t notice the chalk and Athena choked back a laugh as he settled himself better into the chair, really working the chalk into his backside.
Mr Pennington glanced at Athena, and she quickly looked down at her jotter, biting her lip.
We waited.
And we waited.
And we waited some more.
Mr Pennington. Didn’t. Get. Back. Up.
“Well, this is rubbish,” Rachel whispered after fifteen minutes had passed. “His next class will end up benefitting from our prank.”
“You should have put pins on his chair instead, Freddie,” Chloe said with a wicked lift of her eyebrows.
“My gosh, Chloe!” I said with a laugh. “I’d rather not get expelled for assaulting a teacher, thank you very much.”
“That reminds me—have you all heard about Meredith Sims?” Athena asked. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she leaned in to whisper to the rest of us.
“In Upper Sixth?” I asked.
Athena nodded. “Well…rumour has it that she has been enjoying a little extra attention from Mr Stewart.”
Chloe gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth.
Rachel looked as shocked as I felt. “Are you really saying that Meredith is seeing her Latin teacher?”
“Yes! Crazy, isn’t it? Meredith told a few of her friends and they told a few more. And, I don’t know how much truth there is in this, but apparently someone saw them together in his office. You know, like together, together.”
I laughed, louder than I’d intended, but it sneaked out of me before I could stop it.
“What’s going on over there?” Mr Pennington asked.
“Nothing, Sir,” I said quickly, returning to my jotter and pretending to scribble something down. The last thing I needed was for Mr Pennington to get his knickers in a twist over me and my friends gossiping.
He rose from his chair and walked slowly to the back of the room where our lab table was. “It’s always you I catch chatting, Frederica. Do you need the ‘I shall not talk or disturb Mr Pennington’s class’ line one hundred times again?”
“No, sir.”
The girls at the tables in front turned around and caught sight of what had to be a very white bottom, and couldn’t contain their laughter.
He whirled around at the sound, allowing me and the rest of the table a perfect view of his chalky arse.
Athena released a loud, barking laugh, and Chloe and Rachel couldn’t contain their giggles.
Mr Pennington spun back around to face us, and his eyes narrowed. He patted his bottom and examined his white, chalky hands. Mr Pennington stomped back to his chair and glared at the seat, before turning that angry look my way.
“Frederica Felton.”
“Yes, Sir?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in innocence.
“I have had it up to here with your theatrics!” Mr Pennington’s face turned an odd shade of purple as he placed his hands on his hips. He stalked closer to the table. “You have gone too far with your insolence this time and I will stand for it no longer!”
Okay, maybe it had been a bad idea to play a trick on him, but in my defence I’d had no clue that he would erupt like this. “I’m sorry,
Sir, but whatever do you mean?”
Mr Pennington turned to the side and gestured to his bottom. “Are you trying to say you had nothing to do with this?”
I turned away sharply and shielded my eyes. “Mr Pennington!”
Athena gasped and clutched my arm. “My goodness, Frederica! Whatever would Mrs Mapherson say if she knew one of her staff was inappropriately showing himself to a poor student?”
Chloe snorted a laugh, which she tried to turn into a cough.
“What? I— Now, you listen here—” Mr Pennington spluttered.
“Mr Pennington,” Rachel said quietly as she shrank back from him and into Chloe. “Please calm down. You’re starting to frighten me.”
Mr Pennington gestured wildly with his hand, narrowly missing our lit Bunsen burner. “Frighten you?” he asked in disbelief. “I cannot believe this! You silly girls are trying to upset me and I am frightening you?”
He slammed his hand down on the lab table, and Athena and I both shrieked in surprise. A flicker of brightness drew my attention to Mr Pennington’s arm. More accurately, his shirt. Which was on fire.
Perhaps it wasn’t as narrowly missed as I’d thought. He had caught his sleeve in it as he gestured like a crazy man.
“Mr Pennington!” I cried.
“Enough, Frederica!”
“No, Mr Pennington, sir—” I tried again.
“Quiet!” he bellowed. “I have had it up to here—”
The classroom door swung open and Miss Montgomery, who taught Chemistry in the classroom next door, rushed inside. “Mr Pennington, is everything all right? I could hear yelling.”
“Everything is fine, Miss Montgomery,” Mr Pennington said as he continued to glare at us all, oblivious to his smouldering arm. “Just a few insolent girls. Nothing I can’t handle. Is it, Frederica?”
I widened my eyes again as I peered around him to Miss Montgomery. “Of course, Miss Montgomery. Mr Pennington was getting very upset because he accidentally sat on some chalk. So much so that he hasn’t noticed his arm is on fire.”
“His arm is on fire?” Miss Montgomery repeated, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline.
I nodded, widening my eyes and swung my gaze back to Mr Pennington.
It was then he turned his eyes to his arm and he realised that yes, his arm was indeed on fire.
Somehow my luck was with me yet again and I wasn’t punished for the…misunderstanding with Mr Pennington. Which was really rather fortunate as I had a lacrosse match that weekend against Wigcombe Abbey—our all-time ultimate rival.
The light faded around me as I jogged around the lacrosse field. My lungs burned from exertion but I didn’t let myself stop or falter. It was the night before the big game, and just like every evening and spare moment I’d had, I was spending it running drills, practicing and making sure I was at peak fitness.
“Come on, Freddie!” Sarah, one of my teammates called from the edge of the field. She and the others had finished training fifteen minutes ago. “You’ll exhaust yourself for tomorrow!”
I waved to show her I was fine. “Just a few more minutes.”
She nodded then gathered up her bag and water bottle. “See you in the morning.”
Twenty minutes later, I slowed my pace until I eventually came to a stop. I stretched, drank my water then moseyed back to my room.
In the morning, I made my way to the coach after a healthy breakfast of fruit, Weetabix and natural yogurt. The bus was surrounded by my teammates, our coach, Mrs Chesterfield and a few chaperones. Once our roster was checked and double-checked to confirm we were all present, we boarded the bus.
The moment we trundled down the long drive, every girl burst into cheer. I loved game days. Everyone was riled up and in high spirits. It worked wonders for getting us in the mood for a game, to become a single unit of a team than solitary players.
Someone behind me started singing a school song and a beat later the entire coach joined in. I grinned and sang at the top of my voice. We barely paused for a breath between one song and the next. We recited fight chants to get our adrenaline up and it worked so well that by the time the game started we could probably have accomplished world domination.
But Wigcombe Abbey girls had a tough lacrosse team, and they weren’t easy to beat.
The first half passed in a blur of frenzied activity. My teammates moved fluidly across the field, helping each other and trying their best to feed me and the other attackers the ball. I stayed on the offensive side and tried to get around the midfielders.
The whistle blew for half-time and we were one goal down to their three.
I trudged off the field with my shoulders slumped.
“Come on, Freddie, chin up,” Ms. Chesterfield, our coach, said. “All right, girls, gather round.”
We all grabbed our water bottles and crouched down to listen to Ms. Chesterfield.
“It may seem grim right now, but we will not be beaten! We have come back from much worse than this! Those girls over there think they have already won the game—but they haven’t! We’re saving our best for last and we will knock their socks off.” She rose to full height. “Now let’s get back out there and finish them!”
With a cheer, we jumped to our feet and charged back onto the field, determined that we would, in fact, not be beaten.
We set up for a face-off with the opposition and waited for the whistle to blow.
The second half started and we were women on a mission as we won the face-off against Wigcombe Abbey.
Girls from our school who had come along on another bus to support the team cheered from the sidelines, screaming for us to slaughter the opposition.
I played harder than I ever had. I seized every ground ball, brought out all my best fake-out moves and took every chance to score that I had.
With two minutes remaining of the game, we were an even draw with Wigcombe Abbey. Some people may have been discouraged, but not me. I was a girl possessed and adamant I would not return to school a loser. I tore across the field and intercepted a pass. Seeing my chance, I reared my arm back to score a goal.
But I was ploughed into with a stick and knocked to the ground hard enough to push the wind from my lungs. As attacker, my job was a little rougher than some of the other girls and I was used to getting bashed about. What I wasn’t used to was being illegally cross-checked by a girl so large she could have doubled as Miss Trunchbull.
“What was that?” I demanded as I scrambled to my feet, holding my sides as my lungs complained.
She shrugged. “It was an accident. I lost control.”
My backside! I opened my mouth to say as much, but the ref blew her whistle and rushed over to us.
“Foul! Illegal cross-check! Two minute penalty!”
Two minutes…we could make this work. I exchanged a look with my teammates who all nodded their unspoken agreement.
One of the opposing midfielders tried to block me, but I spun around her in time to catch the ball from my team. I tore towards the goal and using a stutter-step dodge to confuse the defender, I threw the ball as hard as I could and…scored!
The ball touched the back of the net as the whistle blew for the end of the game.
All of us screamed in excitement and rushed to each other in a big, clumsy group-hug.
No power on this earth could have contained our spirits on the drive home that evening. We were victors and we wanted the world to know it.
My eyes were bleary, my head thumped and all I wanted to do was crawl into my warm, comfy bed and sleep for a week. Instead, I was sat cross-legged on my bed beside Annie, staring at the same paragraph I had read three times. It still hadn’t sunk in.
Annie groaned and flopped back against my pillows. “Remind me why we leave revision to the last minute again?”
“Because it’s a system that has worked for us so far, so why break tradition?”
It was after midnight the night before our first A-Level exams, and Annie and I were burning the mi
dnight oil studying for it. Up until now we had coasted by with barely cracking open a textbook, but it was the final hour and we could put it off no longer.
We were armed with packets of Pro Plus, bottles of Coke and plenty of sugary sweets. Aerosmith played quietly from my new CD player, filling the room with the scratchy voice of Steven Tyler.
The rest of the House was quiet, most of the other girls all fast asleep. But I’d bet good money there were a few who resembled Annie and I and were cramming like mad.
“Can you believe it’s almost the end of the year already?” Annie asked as she reached for another Freddo.
“Tell me about it,” I said as I fought back a yawn. “It’s gone past so quickly.”
“Are you looking forward to the dance?”
“I’m looking forward to wearing my new dress!” Giving Annie a soft nudge, I asked, “What about you, Annie? Have you got your sights on any fit Stonebridge boys?”
Annie scoffed a laugh. “Yeah, right! Like I’d get a look in stood beside you, anyway.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My friend gave me a bland look. “You are kidding, right? Freddie…you’re bloody gorgeous. We all look like a bunch of tramps when we’re standing beside you.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. It was sweet of Annie to say so, but I hardly felt like that myself. “I’m too tall.”
“Yeah, you’re tall, but you’re not too tall. Come on, you’ll probably be a world-famous fashion model by the time the rest of us finish university!” Annie let out a quiet giggle.
“I’m going to university!” I exclaimed with a laugh.
“After university then,” she conceded. “You’ll be on the catwalks of New York and Milan, dressed in beautiful creations by these designers you adore so much.” Annie waved her hand in the direction of my corkboard, which was full to bursting with pictures I had cut out of magazines of designer clothes.
Lady in Waiting Page 9
