by Disney Books
Anita was taken aback by Beatrice’s sudden outburst. The tears startled Perdita as well, waking the puppy up from her nap. Beatrice continued to wail, and Perdita stretched her neck to find the source of the sound. She put her front paws on Beatrice’s shoulder and nuzzled her face until Beatrice started laughing. “That tickles!” Beatrice said, giggling and sniffling as the puppy continued to lick away her tears.
Anita kneeled in front of the bed. “Are you all right?” she asked Beatrice.
Beatrice sighed and settled Perdita onto her lap. “I don’t know,” Beatrice said. “Something about this school. It’s not what I thought it was going to be. It’s…it’s…” Beatrice searched for the right word.
“Terrible?” Anita suggested.
“Yes!” Beatrice exclaimed. “You think so, too?”
“Of course I do!” Anita replied.
“But you seem so positive and rather happy,” Beatrice said. “I thought I was the only one feeling like an outcast.”
“Beatrice, this school is full of gloom and doom,” Anita said. “No one smiles. No one talks. My mum always told me stories about how wonderful her Dahlington years were. Clearly something has happened since then to make it awful.” It was a relief for Anita to finally tell someone the way she’d been feeling for the past two weeks.
Beatrice nodded. “I was so afraid to face the loneliness, I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.” Beatrice watched Perdita, who was batting her book pages back and forth, playing. “But this puppy made me think about my dogs at home, and suddenly I felt so homesick it was like I couldn’t keep it inside anymore, and…” Beatrice pointed at her teary eyes, wiping them with her shirtsleeve.
“I know what you mean,” Anita said. “I tried to do something about it today by joining a club, and it didn’t quite go as planned.” Anita told Beatrice all about her afternoon, from her mum’s letter, to her visit with the Headmistress, to her encounter with Cruella, and, finally, to her discovery of Perdita.
“Well, let’s start an art club!” Beatrice said. “That was what you really wanted to join, right?”
“Yes, but how can we?” Anita asked. “We have to find other members in a school where no one talks—not to mention raise all that money for the club fee and supplies.”
“I’m sure there are more girls like us, looking for a place to belong,” Beatrice said. “And we can raise the money with fundraisers!”
Anita couldn’t believe this enthusiastic and lively girl was the same one who had been cowering on her bed for the past two weeks. “I’m willing to give it a try if you are.” Anita grinned.
“We’ll start our recruiting at dinner,” Beatrice said. She picked up Perdita and gave her a kiss. “Won’t we?” she asked the puppy. Perdita yapped her agreement.
The two came up with a plan for spreading the message about their club. As they chatted, they settled Perdita into her new home. They wiped her dirty fur clean and set her up with a bed of blankets and Anita’s stuffed rabbit to cuddle. Anita was relieved that Beatrice was already as head over heels in love with Perdita as she was. She was confident her roommate wouldn’t spill her puppy secret any time soon.
At mealtime, Dahlington students were allowed to speak to one another only when it directly related to their meal, such as when they needed to ask another student for a dish or a utensil. Cruella patrolled the dining hall to enforce the rules. Anita and Beatrice had decided the quickest and best way to spread their recruitment message was to pass notes under the cover of their normal dinner activity. They just had to do it without Cruella noticing.
Dining hall seats were assigned according to dormitories. Anita was always seated across from Beatrice at a table they shared with four neighbors from their floor. As they sat down, Anita studied the other girls. Next to Beatrice and Anita were Claire and Madeline. Claire had short red hair and wore a different hat every day. Hats were not allowed as part of the official Dahlington uniform, and Anita admired that Claire wore them anyway. Madeline had long dark brown hair and kind eyes, and her mouth often formed into a small smile that looked to Anita like she was trying to put on a brave face. Rounding out the table were Lucy and Penelope, who appeared every bit the opposite of each other. Lucy was short with smooth blond hair and fair features, while Penelope was tall with dark hair and eyes.
The meals at Dahlington were usually bland and unenjoyable. That night’s dinner was no different: the kitchen staff set down a large bowl of lumpy mashed potatoes, a tray of dried-out ham, and a platter of limp vegetables. The ham would at least make a good supper for Perdita, and Anita wrapped some in a napkin and put it in her pocket.
The girls dished up their food. Anita and Beatrice waited for the clamor of silverware and plates to die down. Then Anita began with Claire: “Yes, Claire,” she said abruptly. “Here’s the salt.” Anita pushed the salt shaker toward Claire with a folded note underneath. On the piece of paper was written: Meet in Beatrice and Anita’s room after lights-out. Important. Starting a club. Pass around.
Claire stared at the salt shaker, confused.
“Psst,” Beatrice whispered to Claire, and pointed at the note.
Claire finally saw the scrap of paper and picked it up, scanning quickly for Cruella before unfolding it. She read the message and passed it to Madeline. Madeline read the note and passed it to Lucy, who read it and passed it to Penelope. Penelope read the note, sighed, and went back to pushing her food around on her plate.
Beatrice and Anita looked at each other. Not one of their neighbors seemed very excited about the message. We tried, Anita mouthed to her roommate, shrugging.
Frowning, Beatrice got up and snatched the note from Penelope.
“Hey!” Penelope said before realizing she shouldn’t speak. A few students turned around, but Cruella was on the far side of the dining hall and didn’t seem to notice.
Beatrice pulled a pen from her pocket, scribbled on the other side of the paper, then shoved it in the middle of the table so all the girls could see.
Claire, Madeline, Lucy, and Penelope peered down at the note. Their eyes bulged in surprise. Written in bold capital letters was WE HAVE A PUPPY IN OUR ROOM.
The girls looked up at Anita and Beatrice, brimming with delight. Their faces were full of questions, all of which would have to wait until later. Beatrice’s direct approach hadn’t been the plan, but it had broken Dahlington’s cold spell over the students at the table for now. The six girls smiled at one another, sharing nods of agreement.
That evening, after lights-out, the other girls snuck over to Anita and Beatrice’s room. The group gathered on the floor, where Madeline, Claire, Lucy, and Penelope oohed and aahed over the puppy. Perdita relished the attention.
The girls peppered Anita with questions about where Perdita had been found and what Anita planned to do with her.
“She has to stay here,” Madeline said after Anita had finished explaining.
“This is her home!” Lucy added.
“She couldn’t have picked a nicer one?” Penelope joked.
“Well, even if the rest of the school is miserable,” Anita said, “this room can be a happy place.” Perdita yelped in agreement.
The girls all shushed the puppy at once, then dissolved into giggles.
“But that’s also why we’re here,” Beatrice said. “To create another happy place.”
“Right,” Anita said. She told the other girls about their plan to start an art club and what she’d learned from the Headmistress and Cruella.
“Cruella De Vil?” Claire said. “She asked me to join her fashion club, too.”
“She did?” Anita replied.
Claire nodded. “She came up to me one day, asking about my hats. My father is a hatmaker in London. She was fawning all over them, and she told me if I gave her my hats, she might let me into her club. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I said no.”
“You told her no? She seems so scary, though,” Beatrice said.
“I did,” Clair
e continued. “And then, just a day later, the Headmistress found me and told me that hats weren’t allowed as part of the uniform. It was strange timing, since I’d been wearing them every day until then and no one had said anything.”
“What did you do?” Madeline asked, noting that Claire was still wearing a hat. A fine tweed newsboy cap, at that.
Claire shrugged. “I got a note from my father giving me special permission, and no one bothered me again. I’ve been getting a lot of glares from Cruella, though.”
Perdita scampered from Lucy’s lap into the center of the room. She grabbed the plush rabbit in her mouth, despite its being as large as she was, and started shaking it. That made the girls giggle again.
“So, what do you say about the art club?” Anita asked the group.
“I’m definitely in,” Claire said.
“Me too,” the rest chimed in.
“Great!” Anita shouted, then covered her mouth, smiling.
Beatrice took out a pad of paper. “First thing is fundraising so we can pay five shillings to the school and get some art supplies. Let’s write down some ideas.”
The girls brainstormed as they played with Perdita. Their ideas ranged from serious, to silly, to brilliant. When her face started hurting from laughing, Anita realized that this was the first time she’d really smiled since she’d arrived at Dahlington. It wasn’t the brave smile she’d been wearing as her Dahlington armor, but a true smile. A grin she couldn’t fight off if she tried—not that she would want to.
By the time Claire, Madeline, Lucy, and Penelope said good night and snuck back to their own rooms, Anita and Beatrice had a list of fundraising ideas and a plan for the next day.
Breakfast the next morning was better than any meal Anita had eaten since she arrived at boarding school, and it wasn’t because of the food. She was finally catching a glimpse of her mum’s Dahlington: a place to make friends, do new things, and learn more about herself.
The new art club—or the Arties, as they now called themselves—had decided that their first fundraiser would be a cake stall where they could sell homemade baked goods. Madeline, whose parents owned a bakery in London, was taking the lead. Beatrice suggested asking Dahlington’s headmistress to let them use the kitchens and ingredients from the pantries. While they probably would not be able to make enough pastries to earn the five shillings in dues, it would be a good start.
After finishing breakfast, they tried to go talk to the Headmistress about gaining access to the kitchens, but when they knocked on her door, there was no answer. Anita suggested they ask Cruella. So they walked back to the dining hall to find Cruella just then sitting down to eat.
“What do we say?” Madeline whispered as they approached.
“We simply ask about the kitchens,” Anita answered. “We say exactly what we want to do.”
“She’d better not comment on my hat,” Claire muttered.
Anita knew Cruella didn’t have the warmest reputation at the school, and she’d certainly been unusual during their brief encounter. But Anita also understood that Dahlington didn’t bring out the best in people, so she didn’t want to judge Cruella too harshly.
Anita cleared her throat. “Cruella?” The older girl glanced up from her breakfast to see the whole art club watching her.
Cruella’s mouth peeled back into a sly grin. “Anita, darling, hello! Have you reconsidered my fashion club?”
“Actually, Cruella, you’ve inspired me to start my own club,” Anita said. “An art club.”
“Is that so?” One of Cruella’s thin, dark eyebrows arched up in amusement.
“We want to have a fundraiser to earn money,” Beatrice said.
“But we need some help from the Dahlington staff,” Anita said. She relayed the Arties’ plans to Cruella.
“So you’re going to raise funds?” Cruella drummed her fingers against her pale cheek. “Not just for your dues, but all your art supplies, too?”
“That’s the idea,” Beatrice said.
Cruella cackled. She seemed strangely delighted. “How tremendous,” Cruella said. “I’ll grant you permission to use the kitchens.”
“You will?” the Arties said together.
“Can you?” Penelope asked.
“Of course I can,” Cruella retorted. “The Headmistress has other matters to deal with. As her student aide, I can oversee these minor bits of red tape.”
“Really? Do we need a permission slip or any-thing?” Claire asked.
Cruella glared at Claire. “My word is as good as any silly scrap of paper.”
The Arties looked at each other and shrugged. “Thank you so much,” Anita said to Cruella.
“I’m looking forward to the cake stall, girls. Hope you earn big.” Cruella winked.
The Arties said goodbye to Cruella, leaving her to her breakfast.
“See? She’s not bad,” Anita said as they exited the dining hall.
“Perhaps not,” Claire said. “Maybe she just really liked my hats.”
“I don’t know,” Penelope said. “I’ve heard that she’s a bit of a schemer.”
“As long as her scheming lets us make enough money to start our club,” Beatrice said, “it’s fine by me!”
“Shall we go look up recipes in the library?” Madeline asked. “The only one I’ve got memorized is for scones, and we’ll need more options than that.”
“I’m supposed to meet a girl from my English class to study, but I’d much rather look for recipes!” Beatrice said.
“You all go ahead,” Anita said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve got to go feed Perdita.”
The Arties bid Anita goodbye, and they agreed to meet in the kitchens after dinner to start baking.
Inside the dorm room, Perdita was napping on her bed of blankets in a beam of sunlight. Not wanting to disturb the puppy’s rest, Anita set aside the food she’d snuck away from breakfast. She decided to use the time to write her mum a letter.
As Anita set down a piece of stationery on her desk and uncapped her favorite fountain pen, she suddenly felt like she might burst with all the good news she had to share. The words flowed from her faster than her hand could write. She told her mum about each one of her new friends. That led into the art club she was starting and all the activities and fun that would come from it. Anita decided not to mention Perdita for now.
As she neared the end of the letter, Anita was interrupted by the piercing sound of a whistle. She peered out the open window above her desk. A group of boys was playing soccer down the road at Dapperton, the boys’ school. Anita heard toenails scrabbling on the wood floor behind her. Perdita had been startled awake and was running around the small room.
The whistle sounded again. Perdita sprang onto Anita’s bed, then leapt onto the desk. The puppy thrust her snout at the window and began to bark.
“No!” Anita cried. She quickly shut the window. Perdita still woofed and howled, excited by the sound of the whistle.
“Shhh, Perdy, shhh.” Anita pleaded with the puppy to quiet down. Another whistle blew, muffled this time by the window, but Perdita still heard it. She thought the whistle meant it was time to play, and she kept trying to get back to the window. Anita began to sing, hoping her voice would distract Perdita. To Anita’s relief, after a few rounds of “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” Perdita finally calmed down. Anita continued to sing nursery rhymes until the soccer game was over. Eventually, Perdita settled back down in her bed of blankets to nap.
Anita was concerned. What if Perdita heard a noise like that when Anita wasn’t there to soothe her? What if she barked and someone discovered her? Anita couldn’t bear to have Perdita taken away. Not when she had been the first happy thing Anita had found at the school and had been the key to unlocking her new friendships. Anita would just have to be more careful.
That evening after dinner, the Arties entered the kitchen. Anita opened her book bag and let Perdita out from hiding. Perdita trotted around the unfamiliar room, sniffing all
the new smells.
The girls set to work with Madeline in charge. Along with the scones, they were making fudge, oatmeal walnut biscuits, apple tarts, and small multicolored cakes. Some were white with dots of chocolate icing, as a secret nod to Perdita.
It was glorious fun for the girls, getting their hands sticky with chocolate, their clothes covered in flour, and their faces dusted with sugar—all the while with Perdita there to play at their feet. Despite some burned biscuits, everything was going according to plan. The smell of baked sweets filled the kitchen as the scones, tarts, and biscuits cooled on a counter. The girls were just getting started on the fudge and cakes when there was a sound at the door.
The Arties froze. Perdita was licking a drop of butter next to Lucy’s shoe. Anita grabbed the puppy and frantically searched for a hiding place. Settling on a large cupboard, Anita gently put Perdita inside. She had just closed the doors when in walked Cruella De Vil.
“Hello, darlings,” Cruella purred as she observed the scene in the kitchen. Madeline was melting chocolate on the stove while Lucy unwrapped butter, Claire measured sugar, Beatrice cracked eggs, Penelope washed dishes, and Anita stood in front of the closed cupboard. Everyone paused to watch Cruella. “Go on,” Cruella urged. “Don’t stop what you’re doing on my account. I just wanted to see how your little bakery is getting on.”
“Everything’s coming along smoothly, Cruella,” Anita said, hoping that the older girl wouldn’t get any closer. Anita heard a tiny whimper from the cupboard and faked a giant sneeze to cover it up. “Achoo!”
Cruella shot Anita a disgusted look. “Are you sick, Anita? Should you be in the kitchen baking if you’re ill?”
Anita waved her off. “It’s just all the flour flying around, tickling my nose.”
Another whimper came from the cup-board, and Lucy, who was closest to Anita, blurted out, “Would you like to taste some-thing, Cruella? A biscuit, perhaps?”
