by Anne Digby
'Yes.' Rebecca placed the air letter next to Robbie's photo. Then she hung up her dressing gown and climbed into bed.
'I hope the Andersons are a nice family,' said Ingrid suddenly. 'I hope they are deserving of your friendship, Rebecca. Do you like them?'
'Of course I do,' yawned Rebecca. She was almost asleep. 'I mean Tish . . . Robbie . . . well . . .' A great feeling of warmth rushed through her. 'I love them both.'
Ingrid just stared at the ceiling and said nothing.
EIGHT
MINDER
The afternoons were hot, that first week back. One day a large bumblebee buzzed into their new form room, an elegant room on the first floor of old building, just as though it were midsummer.
Each girl had her own desk now that they were Fourth Years. Ingrid sat immediately in front of Rebecca, by the window, every so often gazing out at the blue sky and the big cedar tree by south courts. Like Rebecca she was taking German and French, as well as Latin. She displayed a natural brilliance at languages and got on very well with Herr Fischer and Monsieur Lafarge, a new French master. She didn't get on quite so well with Mr Pargiter, the Latin master, who seemed to prefer Rebecca.
'He talks all of the lesson about Roman times,' she complained.
'But that's what makes it interesting!' said Rebecca.
As soon as school ended Ingrid would disappear, off to soak up the sun somewhere. She would reappear in wrap-over beach robe and dark glasses, just before tea, gleaming with sun tan oil. She emerged from these sessions deeply tranquil. As she already had a perfect light golden tan, presumably acquired during the summer holidays, sun-worship was obviously a long-standing addiction.
Rebecca greatly welcomed these sun-bathing interludes of Ingrid's. They gave her some respite. Because, to Rebecca's continuing surprise, the Swedish girl had firmly attached herself to her 'minder', after all.
There were plenty of girls who would gladly have taken Ingrid under their wing. Her air of calm beauty was fascinating. From the moment she'd walked into assembly on the first morning of term, heads had turned and several girls had been really friendly towards her since.
However, with an impenetrable gaze, Ingrid Larsson ignored them all and sought only Rebecca's company, often with great persistence.
'I'm only going to phone Robbie, Ingrid, and then going over to the library to look something up.'
'Then you must let me come with you, Rebecca. Mrs Barrington said to you that you must look after me.'
'Oh, no, here comes Clinging Rose,' Tish would say (or 'Creeping Buttercup' or 'Climbing Ivy') much to Sue's disapproval and Mara's undisguised delight.
So it was a great relief to Rebecca that at least when Ingrid went sunbathing she insisted on going alone. She never dreamt that Ingrid was doing anything odd, or that Mrs Barrington would be furious about it.
'Mrs Barry wants to see you, Rebecca Mason,' said Margaret Exton, putting her head round the door of the room. It was early on the Friday evening and Ingrid was having one of her innumerable baths at the time. 'You're for it. She wants to see you in her sitting room.'
'What for!' exclaimed Rebecca. But the Fifth Year girl just said: 'Better go and find out, hadn't you. Probably all that stupid noise you were making last night.'
'Why just you?' asked Sue, in dismay.
'Rebecca went to bed quite early!' said Margot, coming through from the next room.
'It's not fair,' said Elf.
Mara was with them. 'I shall kill Curly if Rebecca gets into trouble because of last night!' she exclaimed.
The six had had their Fourth Year friends over from Garth College the previous evening – Mike Brown, Chris Earl–Smith and Curly Watson, Mara's boy friend. They'd watched TV and then brought the boys upstairs to make them coffee – the Fourths had their own small Common room on the first floor. They'd talked and laughed a lot, so much so that Ingrid had come marching along there in her dressing gown, her face covered in some special cream that she put on at night, and said 'Sssh!'
Although it hadn't been at all late, Ingrid was strangely irritable. It made Rebecca feel guilty about neglecting her and in fact had quite spoiled things, so she had gone to bed shortly afterwards.
Later on Edwina Burton, the prefect on duty, had come and shoved the boys out, because Curly was playing a mouth organ, but there hadn't been any real trouble.
'Oh, it can't be anything to do with that!' said Tish.
It wasn't.
'Sit down, Rebecca,' said the housemistress, nodding to a small armchair with a loose chintz cover. Mrs Barrington was married to the school's Director of Music and they lived in the private wing, which connected up with the main boarding house.
Rebecca was alarmed to see that she was cross.
'I've had a long talk with Ingrid, the silly girl, and she's full of apologies. But really, Rebecca, I'm surprised that you've been leaving her to her own devices. You at least know the rules about going down to the town beach, and bikinis –'
'Ingrid's been wearing a bikini – on the town beach?' asked Rebecca wonderingly. 'I didn't know.'
'If you'd been taking any interest in her you would have known and could have stopped her,' said Mrs Barrington. 'And incidentally she's been conversing freely down there with any strange youth who happens to cross her path.'
Mrs Tarkus, a local busybody, had earlier telephoned Mrs Barrington with all this interesting information, sending the housemistress hotfoot down to the beach in question to yank Ingrid back to school. When Rebecca had seen Ingrid at tea-time, serene and sun-drenched as usual, she'd given away no hint of all this drama.
'I – I'm sorry, Mrs Barry,' mumbled Rebecca. 'I just had no idea –'
'Apparently she sunbathes in the nude in Sweden and was quite amazed when I told her we forbid bikinis here,' said Mrs Barrington, wryly. 'As for talking to strange youths, she simply couldn't understand my concern at all. She's so keen to get in conversation practice and in her innocence she saw nothing wrong with it. She said she expected English people to be reserved and it's been a very interesting experience meeting new people.'
Rebecca could almost hear Ingrid saying it, in that humourless way of hers. She smiled.
'Rebecca, I don't want Ingrid to have any more adventures like this,' said Mrs Barry sharply. 'She must find other amusements. I gather she's not interested in hockey or netball –'
'No, not in the least,' said Rebecca. She sighed. 'Or swimming, or surfing, or badminton. She did say she'd like to watch me play tennis matches, sometime.'
'She must do things herself – find an outlet,' said Mrs Barry quickly. 'The first thing I want you to do is to take her ice-skating tomorrow. She says she would really love to go to the ice rink, as long as you take her . . .'
Rebecca's heart sank, remembering it was Robbie's match.
'But I can't skate! I haven't even got any ice skates!'
'You can hire some! And Ingrid can teach you. You'll enjoy it! It will be so nice if you accompany her.'
'But the crowd from Sterndale always go, Mrs Barry. And some from Tavistock. They go on the coach! She'll be perfectly all right!'
'She doesn't know any of them yet, Rebecca. What's the matter? You haven't got a tennis match, have you?'
'I was going to watch someone play rugby,' said Rebecca.
'There'll be another time,' said the housemistress, not unkindly. 'Look, Rebecca, I would like you to take Ingrid to the rink, at least for her first visit. She doesn't want to go unless she goes with you. She'll soon make some friends amongst the girls who skate here, but I think she needs a helping hand at this stage.'
Rebecca was silent and bit her lip.
'Now, come on, Rebecca. I can't force you, but I would like you to offer.'
'All right, then.'
She phoned Robbie straight away, from the pay phone under the stairs in Court House.
'I've said I'll take Ingrid ice-skating, Robbie.' She could tell he was hurt because he just said 'Oh.' And when she said: 'Mrs
Barry thinks she needs some moral support,' he said in a disappointed voice: 'I needed moral support, too.'
But at the top of the stairs she met Ingrid, just coming back from her bath. When Rebecca mentioned their going to the ice rink together, Ingrid rewarded her with a smile of great beauty.
NINE
AT THE ICE RINK
At the ice rink next day, whatever kind of support Ingrid needed, Rebecca needed a lot more!
She kept skidding on her bottom until her clothes were quite damp with powdered ice.
At first, even standing up on these things that felt like a pair of carving knife blades seemed an impossible feat. They had the most alarming way of shooting from under her, as though they'd never been there in the first place, especially if she tried to stand up straight.
Ingrid was such an accomplished skater herself. It never occurred to her that Rebecca needed to be shown the absolute basics, such as making sure to lace her boots up very tightly and always leaning forward to keep her balance. She was hardly ready to leave the safety of the handrail at the side and skate out into the middle of a crowded ice rink!
'Come on, Rebecca, hold my hand – it is so easy – we shall skate along together –'
'Hee – lllppp!' yelled Rebecca.
'Oh dear. Now you have taken the fall again.'
After a few minutes of this, Rebecca begged Ingrid to go off and enjoy herself, explaining that she would prefer just to hang on to the side and quietly find out how to do it on her own.
The rail was a great comfort to Rebecca. She at once felt safer. In the company of a rather jolly woman, another complete beginner like herself, she began to feel less regretful about missing the rugby match. It would be fun to know how to skate!
On the way to Exonford Ingrid had told her, with quiet composure, how grateful she was not to be travelling alone, and how much she was looking forward to skating again. Although there were other Trebizon girls on the coach she had, as usual, ignored them and given Rebecca her undivided attention. 'I like you so much, Rebecca. You are always so kind to me.'
It was difficult not to warm a little to such grace, especially when Ingrid even remembered Robbie's match. It came to her quite suddenly when the coach passed a public park where some boys were playing soccer.
'Oh, Rebecca – was it today? It wasn't today, was it?'
'Yes. But it doesn't matter.'
'Oh, I have been so selfish! How self-centred you must think I am! What must you think of me?'
Then: 'What about Biffy the Bear? Will somebody take him?'
Ingrid looked so contrite that Rebecca immediately felt sorry for her and did her best to cheer her up.
She explained that Tish was going. A Second Eleven hockey practice had suddenly been cancelled and Tish had decided to go and see the rugby, mainly to watch Sue's brother Edward, who was also in the team. Tish rather liked Edward. Sue herself was going to be at orchestra. Rebecca had asked Tish to take Biffy along and wave him a few times at Robbie.
'Do you think she will remember?' Ingrid asked anxiously. 'I am not sure Titch will remember. You are romantic, Rebecca. But she thinks only about dull things. The hockey! Who is good –who is bad. Always hockey!'
It was true. Tish was rather obsessed with the subject just at present.
Before the end of the skating session, there were two developments that pleased Rebecca.
The first concerned herself. She suddenly got the hang of it. She found that she could let go of the barrier and, provided she kept close to it, ready to grab it if her balance went peculiar, she could actually move along on skates. She leant forward, weight first to the right and then to the left, right – left, right – left, she was moving! Faltering here and wobbling there, maybe, but skating nevertheless. It was very satisfying. She could skate!
Or so she thought.
The other development concerned Ingrid. At one point Rebecca had realized that a throng of ice-skaters had halted, gathered round the centre of the rink, watching the Swedish girl. She was spinning round and round in her beautiful patterned skating skirt, faster and faster until the coloured whorls of her skirt all fizzed together as if she were a humming top. It was a breathtaking sight. There was a spontaneous burst of applause when she had finished and Rebecca herself gasped with admiration.
But what really pleased her was to see Ingrid surrounded by Trebizon girls later on, over at the coffee bar – Tara Snell, Sarah Archer, Nicola Hodges, Helena King – a whole crowd of them had gathered around her. Ingrid was obviously basking in their admiration and was chattering away to them as though she'd known them all her life.
And when they got on the coach to go back to Trebizon, she whispered to Rebecca:
'Some of the girls would like me to sit with them, at the back. Should I, do you think?'
'Oh, yes, you must, if they've asked you!' said Rebecca, hardly able to conceal her pleasure. 'I'll just sit here and read, okay? I like it by the window.'
Ingrid retreated to the back and shortly afterwards the big coach juddered away from Exonford's central car park.
Rebecca took out her paperback and squirmed down comfortably in her seat, smiling to herself.
The situation was beginning to look hopeful.
It looked even better when they got back to Trebizon. Ingrid's new friends invited her back to one of the other boarding houses for tea. This was allowed at weekends, for Fourth Year and upwards.
Rebecca returned alone to Court House and met Tish, just coming back from the Garth College match, wheeling her bike.
'They lost,' she said wryly. 'I've been down town with Mike and Chris. They bought me coffee.'
They went upstairs to the room together and Rebecca glanced at the table. So Ingrid had been right!
'I'm not surprised they lost, Tish!' She picked up the little brown bear, with the torn ear and the missing arm, still lying where she'd put him out. 'You forgot Biffy.'
Tish just grinned. 'Sorry!' Then she shrugged. 'They lost 22 – 7. You can't tell me a one-armed bear could have done much about that!'
Rebecca laughed then – and told Tish the good news about Ingrid.
The six really enjoyed themselves at tea. It was the first meal they'd had together, without having to include Ingrid, since the beginning of term.
'You really think you're going to get her off your hands a bit now?' asked Elf.
'Think so,' said Rebecca.
It looked that way. After tea, they found Ingrid back in the room, hunting through her suitcase.
'There's a film over in the sports centre this evening,' Rebecca said dutifully. 'Want to come?'
'Thank you, but no.' Ingrid had taken a leather photo album out and was leafing through it eagerly. Rebecca caught a glimpse of pages of shots of Ingrid, skating. 'My new friends have asked to see all my ice-skating pictures. They have invited me to spend the evening with them.'
She went off looking happy.
Looking even happier, the six went over in a gang to the sports centre to watch the film. Afterwards, as they came out, Mara tiptoed across to the big notice-board in the foyer. She had looked there every day. There were still no new nominations up.
'You are safe, Tish!' she whispered, as they jostled their way out through the main doors. 'Nobody will stand against you now. Tomorrow you will be made Head of Games!'
The six friends chattered and laughed and danced along the lamplit path that wound its way across the darkened grounds. It would very soon be bedtime.
When they reached Court House, Rebecca hung back downstairs and then telephoned Robbie.
'I'm sorry you lost,' she said, when somebody had fetched him to the phone. 'I'm sorry Biffy couldn't come.'
'Can he come on Wednesday, instead?' asked Robbie. 'We're playing St Christopher's. We're really going to need him. It's away.'
'Oh, Robbie, I'm sure that he can!' said Rebecca. She felt a rush of relief. It looked as though she'd been forgiven. 'I know he's not doing anything on Wednesday! I'll get him boo
ked on to the minibus. I'll go and see Mr Douglas tomorrow!'
'How did the skating go?'
'Fine! I think I've learnt to skate!'
When Rebecca went upstairs, Ingrid was already asleep.
All in all, the day had been a good one Rebecca decided, as she lay in bed later. Ingrid was going to be fine now. That had been a wise move of Mrs Barry's. Tomorrow Tish would be made Head of Games – then they could really get down to practising for the seven-a-sides. Gran would be pleased to hear about this . . . she must write to her . . . just as soon as things were definite . . . crikey, she was sleepy . . . thank goodness it was Sunday in the morning! She'd have a long lie-in.
But the lie-in never materialized. Early the next morning there was a loud crashing on the door.
TEN
WHISPER, WHISPER!
It sounded as though someone were trying to bash the door down. 'Wake up, you six!' yelled Aba.
The various huddled shapes in the various beds began to move. The door burst open and the tall Nigerian girl came in. She'd been for an early morning training run and was wearing a blue track suit with her county athletics colours on the sleeve. 'Listen, wake up. It's important!'
'Hey!' complained Tish from under the blankets. 'It's Sunday.'
'What's happened?' exclaimed Rebecca, yawning and blinking.
Sue reached for her glasses. 'What's going on, Aba?'
Ingrid sat bolt upright in bed, looking like a startled mermaid. Her plaits had come out in the night and her long blonde hair cascaded everywhere. 'Is it fire?'
'Tish!' Aba ran over to the bed and shook her shoulder.
'What?' Tish was wide awake. Margot and Elf came hurrying in from the room next door.
It was sensational news.
'Laura's standing against you! Her name's down!' Aba was still out of breath. She'd run all the way from the sports centre. 'There's a whole crowd of them out putting up posters and stickers! They must have been up since dawn!'
'You don't mean it!' gasped Rebecca, scrambling out of bed.
