Tennis Term at Trebizon (The Trebizon Boarding School Series)

by Anne Digby

  She breathed in the tangy sea air and watched a tanker move very slowly across the horizon. She was amazed how relaxed she felt, with the big match just over an hour away. It had been a good idea to have an early night!

  At two o’clock they split up.

  The match wasn’t until three. Before settling down to watch it, Sue, Mara, Margot and Elf wanted to do something energetic. They decided to go over to the sports centre and play badminton and maybe have a swim in the indoor pool. But Tish had already been on a long run, before breakfast, and now she had some things she needed to look up for her history project. That meant going over to the library.

  ‘What will you do, Rebeck?’

  ‘Just wander back to Court House and get ready. Then go over to meet Caxton.’

  The minibus from Caxton High was due at main school at two-thirty and the First VI were to meet it. They’d been told to welcome their opponents and make them feel at home before the match.

  After she’d changed into her tennis dress and put her tracksuit on, Rebecca began to feel restless. She put a ball in her pocket, picked up her racket and wandered along the path past the Hilary and the little lake until old building came in sight. She went across to the main entrance, but there was no one around. Squinting at the clock tower she saw that it was still only quarter past two.

  Fifteen minutes until the Caxton lot arrived! And there was no sign of Kate or Pippa or any of the others. Rebecca skirted round the old manor house to a quiet place she knew and started knocking a tennis ball against the side wall there. No harm in loosening up a bit!

  Meanwhile Tish, who tended to do everything in a rush, had already found what she needed in the library and scribbled some dates down.

  The library was on the ground floor of the former manor house and was one of its finest rooms, its windows facing to the front. It was always a very peaceful place, but today it was unusually peaceful for the simple reason that two prefects had just gone out and it was now completely empty.

  Tish was a gregarious person and besides, Rebecca was very much in her thoughts.

  ‘May as well hang around in the main hall for five minutes and spy for the bus to arrive,’ she thought.

  She opened the library door and peered out along the wide corridor which in the distance opened out on to the main hall. But she immediately withdrew and closed the door again. There was a senior in a tracksuit just inside the main entrance, leaning against the wall.

  Tish roamed around, looking at the books, then cautiously opened the door again. But she was still there whoever she was – leaning against the wall and staring up the main staircase, as though waiting for somebody! So Tish withdrew into the library again and this time went and knelt on one of the window seats, peering out.

  She craned her neck.

  ‘I can see from here!’ she realised.

  There was no sign of Rebecca, but two or three other members of the team were wandering across the gravelled forecourt, carrying tennis rackets, ready to meet the bus when it came. Tish watched them for a while.

  It must be nearly half-past two . . .

  Brrrrrnnng! Brrrrrrrnnnnnnn . . .

  Tish nearly jumped out of her skin as a bell rang loudly and continuously outside the library. It went on and on and on . . .

  What on earth?

  ‘Fire practice!’ she thought. Then – ‘No, it can’t be!’

  They wouldn’t have fire practice on a half-day, when most of the classrooms were empty! And visitors from another school due to arrive any minute!

  She rushed out of the library. She could hear bells ringing all over the building! She went clammy all over. It was a real fire! It must be!

  She raced along to the big entrance hall, her foot tinkling through some broken glass at the foot of the main stairs – looking round fearfully for sign of smoke or flames. Then she saw the coinbox phone on the wall beyond the stairs and rushed over to it.

  Fire! What did you do? You pressed –

  9 . . . 9 . . . 9.

  ‘Which service do you require?’ asked a cool voice.

  ‘Fire!’ gulped Tish. ‘Trebizon School! The old building’s on fire. Tell them to come quickly!’

  She put the phone down. What next? Of course, fire drill.

  They’d practised it often enough. File out of the building in an orderly manner, make for the main forecourt in front of old building. Line up in forms in strict alphabetical order . . .

  As she pushed open the main doors to go outside, she heard a babble on the main staircase behind her – many voices talking at once and, rising above, the calm tones of Miss Welbeck.

  ‘All out girls. No need to panic –’

  More girls were gathering in the forecourt outside. Rebecca was coming this way, with her tennis racket.

  ‘Tish!’

  She hurried up.

  ‘What’s happening? Is it a real fire? I was round the side and suddenly I heard all these bells ringing inside the building –’

  ‘They’re still ringing!’ said Tish, jerking her head towards the building. ‘It must be a real fire! I rang 999!’

  Inside, Miss Welbeck and Mrs Devenshire the school secretary were now standing at the foot of the main staircase, shepherding dozens of scurrying juniors out of the building. They’d been having lessons up in the top classrooms. Some of them were making their way down fire escapes at the back of the building. Everything was under control.

  ‘Don’t run!’ rapped Miss Welbeck. She tapped aside some fragments of broken glass with her toe and looked all round for any signs of smoke. ‘This may well be a false alarm. Just go to the far side of the forecourt in an orderly manner –’

  Outside, Rebecca linked her arm through Tish’s.

  ‘We’d better go and line up,’ she said.

  Girls were coming from all directions now, dozens and dozens of them. Not just from the old building, but from Juniper House round at the back and from various parts of the grounds. Well drilled, they were all converging on the main forecourt.

  Rebecca and Tish went and stood far back from the building now, over by the trees. They stared up at all the windows in turn.

  ‘I wonder where the fire is?’ said Rebecca in awe. ‘Can’t see anything.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s round the back,’ said Alison Hissup.

  ‘The alarm bells have stopped ringing,’ said Tish.

  At that moment Miss Jameson, the senior games mistress at Caxton High School, was just turning the school’s brand new minibus into the Trebizon grounds. She drove carefully along the narrow track, observing the ten mph speed limit when suddenly she heard a tremendous din behind her.

  Screaming siren – flashing lights – there was something big and red right on her tail!

  ‘A fire engine!’ shrieked her passengers. ‘There’s a fire!’

  Something close to panic seized Miss Jameson, as she looked in her driving mirror. She was driving a minibus-load of excitable girls along a difficult track at its most narrow point, with overhanging trees and bushes on either side, and this huge noisy thing behind, wailing like a banshee, seemed to be wanting to run her down.

  At first she tried to accelerate and get ahead of it, only to find the minibus swerving alarmingly on the bumpy track.

  ‘You can get off – look over there!’ cried someone.

  She saw what looked like a flat smooth clearing to the right, pulled over hard and got off the school drive to let the fire engine past – only to find that she was skidding into mud! As the fire engine roared on its way, the minibus slowly bumped to a halt against a tree, denting the front nearside wing.

  ‘Streuth!’ said Miss Jameson.

  The girls had to get out to push the vehicle out of the mud.

  Then, carefully, Miss Jameson reversed back on to the drive, took the girls back on board then slowly continued her journey along the school drive, with the front wing making a nasty little sound as it scraped against the wheel.

  ‘This is a fine start,’ she sai
d.

  When they arrived at the school, they found the forecourt lined with scores of girls and firemen swarming in and out of the building. Nobody even noticed them arrive.

  But within a matter of minutes, everything fizzled out.

  The firemen had all emerged from the building. Their chief spoke to the Principal, then they all got on to their fire engine and drove away again. The crowds of girls began to disperse. Crocodiles of junior girls were led back into the building to finish their first lesson.

  There was no fire.

  ‘You should have checked, ma’am, before calling us in,’ the fire chief had told the Trebizon Principal.

  It was, it seemed, a hoax. Apparently some idiot had smashed one of the glass fire alarm panels in the main building and then called 999.

  ‘Fine bunch of clowns we’ve got here,’ said the captain of Caxton tennis team.

  Miss Darling came up then. Trailing behind her came the Trebizon team and one or two other girls, including Tish.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry about all this –’ she began.

  ‘Look at our new minibus!’ said Miss Jameson. ‘We’ll have to claim on insurance! It was the fire engine. The fire service should pay –’

  They all gathered round.

  ‘Oh,’ said Pippa, upset.

  Rebecca and Tish looked at each other. Tish felt guilty.

  ‘I’d better go and own up,’ she whispered.

  ‘Own up?’ asked Pippa sharply.

  But Miss Welbeck, who had seen Tish using the phone earlier, was already bearing down on them.

  She was feeling angry. Angry because she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion on Monday – about the identity of the hoaxer. She’d nearly made a fool of herself over that. And even angrier that a second hoax had been played, this time one that involved the whole school and the local fire service as well.

  The hoaxer must be found!

  ‘I’m sorry that your match has been slightly delayed,’ she said to Miss Jameson, smiling courteously, her anger hidden. ‘I hear it promises to be an exciting one, by all accounts.’

  She signalled to Miss Darling and the Trebizon team to take the visitors off. Miss Darling responded quickly.

  ‘Would you like to come and get changed?’

  Miss Jameson cast an anxious glance towards the bumper.

  ‘Hodkin will see to that, during the course of the afternoon,’ said Miss Welbeck. ‘I’m sure he can straighten it out enough to see you home safely.’

  As they all moved away, Miss Welbeck turned to Tish.

  ‘Would you come to my study please, Ishbel?’ she asked in a pleasant voice. ‘I believe you phoned the fire brigade?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Welbeck,’ said Tish, feeling slightly sick.

  Pippa and Rebecca both glanced back and saw Tish being led away. So did Alison Hissup.

  ‘Looks like we’ve found the hoaxer then,’ she said. ‘Tish Anderson. Well – honestly!’

  EIGHT

  . . . And Tish Gets a Grilling

  Miss Darling ground her teeth. It was really too much!

  They were over at the sports centre now, waiting in the foyer while the girls from Caxton High School got ready for the match.

  Miss Darling was trying to engage Miss Jameson in polite conversation. As if that weren’t difficult enough, with the visiting teacher in a bad mood because of the minibus, Trebizon’s tennis coach could distinctly hear Rebecca and Alison squabbling!

  ‘Take that back!’

  ‘Why should I?’

  She knew they’d been bickering for some time. At first they’d kept their voices low, but now they were starting to raise them. ‘Pippa – come here a minute!’ rasped Miss Darling as the prefect passed close to her.

  ‘Yes, Miss Darling?’

  ‘Tell those two to shut up,’ she said, out of the corner of her mouth. Then, in the same breath, turning back to Miss Jameson. ‘Yes, I do agree with you about grass courts.’

  Pippa went over to Rebecca and Alison. They were both looking flushed and angry. Alison was in full flow –

  ‘Well somebody phoned Miss Welbeck up from Court House on Sunday night and if it wasn’t your lot who was it? You were stupid enough for anything – the racket you were making.’

  ‘It wasn’t us –’

  ‘I suppose you thought it was funny. Now you’ve been at it again. What a time to choose! We’ll never live it down – the Caxton lot’ll be talking about it for years.’

  Rebecca was almost in tears, all the more so because Alison Hissup was usually a friendly, easy­going person and the last person she’d expect to quarrel with. She turned to Pippa, helplessly.

  ‘Alison just won’t listen!’ she said in despair.

  ‘I don’t blame her,’ said Kate Hissup, joining the group. ‘These hoaxes are just a bit too much!’ She looked at Rebecca suspiciously. But then she put a hand on her younger sister’s shoulder. ‘Cool it, Ally.’

  ‘Look here!’ said Pippa, finding her voice at last. She put an arm round Rebecca’s shoulders, protectively. ‘What is this – the Day of Judgement or something? I don’t think Rebecca’s crowd had anything to do with the hoaxes at all. Phoning the fire brigade doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘Come off it –’ Alison began to laugh.

  To Rebecca’s amazement Pippa went quite pale. She stamped her foot.

  ‘Stop it, Alison!’ she cried, flaring up. ‘You can’t go around accusing people of things when you haven’t a shred of proof. You’re making me sick, the whole lot of you. I think you should apologise.’

  There was a stunned silence. Pippa, the gentlest and most sweet-tempered of people, was really angry!

  Alison stared at the ground, uncomfortably.

  ‘Sorry, Rebecca,’ she mumbled.

  ‘ ’s okay,’ said Rebecca, catching in her breath as she looked at Pippa.

  Even Kate was shamefaced. ‘Pippa’s dead right,’ she said. At that moment the rival team emerged, all ready for the match. ‘Time to start!’ cried Kate, in relief. ‘Come on, let’s forget all this and get on with it.’

  They ran out on to the school’s new hard courts, just behind the sports centre, and a cheer went up.

  ‘Come on, Trebizon!’ cried Mara, Elf, Margot and Sue, together.

  ‘Give us a T!’ shouted someone.

  ‘T!’

  ‘Give us an R –’

  ‘R!’

  Rebecca hoped she was going to be able to concentrate. What was happening to Tish? she wondered. The quarrel with Alison had somehow thrown her off balance. Pippa looked upset, too. In fact, she looked so upset that Rebecca felt guilty. She shouldn’t have dragged Pippa into it!

  It seemed that although there were emergency fire buttons all over the school, only one had been triggered off. That was the one in the main entrance hall, near the door. Someone had deliberately smashed the glass panel, to release the emergency button. It had happened only seconds before Tish rushed out of the library.

  Now, in the Principal’s study, Tish was being cross-examined.

  ‘You didn’t see anybody running away?’ repeated Miss Welbeck. ‘Surely you caught a glimpse of somebody – heard footsteps running, perhaps? They do echo, you know.’

  ‘Nobody,’ repeated Tish. ‘The place was empty.’

  ‘You must have noticed something,’ insisted Miss Welbeck.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Tish stubbornly.

  ‘I see,’ sighed Miss Welbeck. She pursed her lips, watching Tish. Then she spoke again. ‘Let’s go back to this girl in a tracksuit you happened to notice standing in the entrance hall, earlier. You glimpsed her from a long way away – from the library. Could she have been our Rebecca?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Why not? Where was Rebecca?’

  ‘Outside somewhere, I think. That’s right, she was round the side –’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘She told me.’

  ‘She could have been in the hall earlier, fled down the far corridor
and got out of the building on the east side and then come round to the front.’

  ‘Why – why should she do that?’ asked Tish. Whatever was Miss Welbeck getting at? ‘I don’t think the girl I saw had anything to do with the fire alarm going off, anyway,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sure she was a senior.’

  ‘So you accept that it’s most unlikely that a senior is the hoaxer?’ said Miss Welbeck. ‘That theory would not be very sensible, would it?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Tish.

  ‘And you accept that it couldn’t be a junior, because no juniors have a half-day on Wednesday and they were all at first lesson –?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tish.

  ‘And therefore our hoaxer is a member of the Middle School,’ postulated Miss Welbeck. ‘So why are you so certain the girl you saw was a senior?’

  ‘She just was, somehow,’ said Tish. She didn’t quite follow the logic of all this. ‘She was tall –’

  ‘Rebecca Mason is tall. Let’s change the subject. Why was Rebecca out of bed at midnight on Sunday?’

  ‘She got up to get a drink, that’s all!’ said Tish indignantly.

  ‘Where was it, then?’ asked Miss Welbeck. ‘Mrs Barrington could find no sign of it, afterwards. I did ask her to check, you know.’

  ‘I – I expect she put the glass away,’ said Tish. Her mind was getting fuzzy. ‘Oh, this is silly –’ She remembered something. ‘How could Rebecca have rung you? She doesn’t know your number, Miss Welbeck. None of us do.’

  ‘I wasn’t at my house. I was over at Parkinson. I often am, you know.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tish was getting more and more bemused.

  ‘Now to come back to the girl you saw, this afternoon. Can we take it that it was Rebecca? That she was leaning against the wall. Look, like this –’

  Miss Welbeck got up and walked over to the wall of her study. She leant against it, on one elbow –

  ‘Yes, that’s how the girl was leaning,’ said Tish.

  ‘Then suddenly, Rebecca did this –’ Miss Welbeck made a violent jab at the wall behind her, with her elbow ‘– in order to smash the emergency glass.’