Winter Term at Malory Towers

by Enid Blyton

  ‘We all thought it was Olive,’ said Susan, rather miserably. ‘And one of the girls accused her to her face. But now we know that we were wrong, and that Sylvia is Miss Tallant’s niece.’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ said the Head. ‘I was aware of it from the first, but at the request of both Sylvia and Miss Tallant, I kept it to myself. Both of them felt that they would be able to settle in better if no one was aware of their relationship. But we shall come back to that in a minute, for I must telephone the police at once, so that they can search for Olive.’

  Miss Grayling dialled the police station and held a hurried conversation with the person at the other end of the telephone, before replacing the receiver and turning back to Miss Potts.

  ‘Could you organise a search party of any available staff to search the grounds, please, Miss Potts?’ she asked. ‘The police will be here shortly, but I really don’t feel that we should waste any time.’

  Miss Potts nodded and left the Head’s study, and Miss Grayling looked at the girls in front of her.

  ‘Now that I know the search for Olive is in hand, let us go back to the question of Miss Tallant,’ she said. ‘Am I to understand that Miss Tallant has been using her position of authority to find out what you fourth formers have been up to?’

  The girls looked at one another a little uncomfortably. For some of the things they had been up to were things that they did not want Miss Grayling to know about. The midnight feast, for example, and some of the tricks that June had played.

  Miss Grayling saw the doubt in their faces, and smiled to herself, for she had been Head mistress at Malory Towers for many years, and guessed a little of what was going through their minds.

  ‘I am not asking you to reveal any of your secrets to me,’ she said. ‘I merely want to know how Miss Tallant has been conducting herself, so that I can deal with her accordingly.’

  Felicity spoke up, saying, ‘Miss Grayling, it is true that Miss Tallant has found out things about the fourth form that she could not possibly have known unless she had someone spying on us. And some of us have been punished because of the things that she has found out.’

  ‘I see,’ said the Head, her face very serious. ‘And yet, I find it very hard to believe that Sylvia is a sneak, for she has always struck me as a rather honest, forthright girl.’

  ‘Yes, that is what we thought, too,’ said Susan. ‘We were most awfully disappointed in her when we discovered the truth.’

  ‘But can you be sure that you know the whole story?’ asked Miss Grayling. ‘Just because Sylvia is Miss Tallant’s niece, it does not necessarily follow that she is the one who has been giving away your secrets. In fact, the impression I received was that Sylvia and her aunt were not close at all.’

  The girls looked at one another in surprise. They had been so certain that Miss Tallant’s niece and the sneak were one and the same!

  ‘Miss Grayling,’ said Pam. ‘Do you think it is possible that Olive could have been the sneak, after all? She looked awfully guilty when she was tackled, and didn’t attempt to deny it.’

  ‘It is possible,’ said the Head. ‘But I think the first thing to do is speak to Sylvia, so that you can be certain it is not her.’

  ‘Will you go to her now, Miss Grayling?’ asked Susan.

  ‘Certainly not,’ replied the Head. ‘The police will be here at any minute, and my immediate concern is to find Olive. I am going to leave it to you, Susan, as head of the fourth form to speak to Sylvia. And I trust that you will use all the tact and wisdom that I know you possess.’

  ‘Of course, Miss Grayling,’ said Susan, feeling awfully proud that the Head thought she was tactful and wise.

  Suddenly Nora, who had remained silent up until now, said, ‘Miss Grayling, I think that there is something else you should know. Bonnie spoke to Olive’s step-sister at half-term, and it turns out that the two of them dislike one another awfully, and there have been dreadful problems between them. I don’t suppose that that has anything to do with Olive running away, but I thought I would mention it.’

  ‘Thank you, Nora,’ said Miss Grayling. ‘That could prove very useful.’

  Just then there came a tap at the door, and a maid announced that the police had arrived, so the fourth formers left the Head’s study and went to join the others in the common-room.

  There was great consternation when Susan announced that Olive had run away.

  ‘How dreadful! I wonder where she has gone?’

  ‘It’s an awfully cold night! I do hope that she will be all right.’

  ‘The police will find her and bring her back.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope so.’

  The only person who remained silent was June. How terribly, terribly guilty she felt! If only she had held her tongue, Olive might be here now, safe and warm. Instead, she was out goodness knows where, alone in the dark and the bitter cold. If only, she, June, could make amends somehow! But perhaps she could! The others were all preoccupied discussing Olive’s disappearance and, unseen by them, June slipped from the room.

  ‘I wonder if Matron would let me speak to Sylvia tonight?’ said Susan. ‘It is quite early, and I bet she is still awake.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask her?’ suggested Felicity. ‘I’ll come with you if you like.’

  So the two girls went along to the San, where Matron greeted them by saying, ‘You two here again? I had no idea that you were such close friends with Sylvia.’

  ‘Matron, we need to speak to her quite urgently,’ said Felicity. ‘It really is terribly important.’

  Matron looked at the watch that was pinned to her crisp, white apron, and said, ‘Very well. You may have twenty minutes, no more.’

  Sylvia looked surprised, but very pleased, to receive a second visit from Felicity and Susan, saying, ‘Hallo, there! This is a pleasant surprise.’

  ‘Well, I hope you will think so when you hear what we have come to say, Sylvia,’ said Susan. ‘You see, we know that you are Miss Tallant’s niece.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Sylvia, turning red. ‘Well, I suppose I should have known that it would be impossible to keep it secret forever. Perhaps I should have told you all myself, at the start, but I didn’t want anyone to know that I was related to her.’

  Felicity and Susan noticed the distaste in Sylvia’s tone, and Felicity said, ‘Don’t you like her, then?’

  ‘Of course not!’ said Sylvia, in surprise. ‘Do you?’

  ‘No, but she’s not my aunt,’ said Felicity.

  ‘Just because you are related to someone doesn’t mean that you have to like them, you know,’ retorted Sylvia. ‘Aunt Aggie has always been spiteful and vindictive. Even my father dislikes her, and he is her brother! They haven’t spoken to one another for years. I half-expected him to take me away when I wrote and told him that Aunt Aggie was a mistress here, but he knew how much I liked it at Malory Towers, so he said that I could stay. My aunt and I bumped into each other on our first day, and—as she dislikes me every bit as much as I like her—we agreed that we would both keep quiet about being related. I told Miss Grayling, of course, for it didn’t seem quite right to keep it from her.’

  Felicity and Susan exchanged glances. Sylvia was being so frank and open about things, that it was harder than ever to believe that she was the sneak. Susan cleared her throat, and said, ‘Sylvia, there is something I must ask you, and I do hope that you won’t take offence.’

  ‘Heavens, whatever can it be?’ asked Sylvia, looking rather alarmed.

  ‘You see, we found out some time ago that Miss Tallant had a niece in the fourth form,’ explained Susan. ‘And we knew that it had to be either you or Olive. And then we realised that Miss Tallant had someone in the form spying on us and reporting back to her. So we put two and two together…’

  ‘And decided that the niece was also the spy,’ said Sylvia, looking rather hurt. ‘Well, Susan, I can assure you that I am no sneak! And even if I was, Aunt Aggie is the last person I should tell tales to!’

&n
bsp; There was such conviction in Sylvia’s voice that both girls believed her at once.

  ‘Well,’ said Felicity heavily. ‘It looks as if Olive must be the culprit after all, and that is why she has run away.’

  ‘Olive has run away!’ cried Sylvia. ‘My goodness, do tell me what happened.’

  While Felicity and Susan were talking to Sylvia, June had slipped out into the grounds to look for Olive. She couldn’t join the official search party, for Miss Potts would certainly send her back indoors, so she avoided them and hunted for Olive alone. Where could she be? June went to the stables, the gardener’s shed, and even the changing cubicles by the swimming-pool, but there was no sign of Olive. June shivered. It really was a bitterly cold night and, in her haste to find Olive, June had not stopped to put her coat on.

  Perhaps she should try searching inside the school, in the store-rooms or attics perhaps. It would certainly be a great deal warmer!

  She heard voices—the search party approaching—and hid behind the trunk of a large tree.

  ‘It looks as though Olive has ventured outside the school grounds,’ she heard Miss Potts say heavily. ‘I’m afraid we shall have to leave it to the police to search for her now. I must go and tell Miss Grayling, so that she can telephone Olive’s father.’

  The search party went towards the school, but June remained where she was for a moment, thinking hard. Her instincts told her that Olive was still here, at Malory Towers somewhere. And if she could be the one to find her, it would go a long way towards assuaging her feelings of guilt. Suddenly June remembered the old boat-house, down the cliff-path. It was the one place she hadn’t looked, and she would be willing to bet that the search party hadn’t thought of it either.

  Swiftly, the girl ran across the lawn, past the swimming pool, and down the path that led to the beach. And there was the boat-house, unused now and looking very dilapidated.

  June knocked on the door and called, ‘Olive! Olive, are you there?’

  There was no answer, and, after a moment, a dejected June was about to walk away. But then her sharp ears caught a sound—a muffled sob!

  Cautiously she pushed open the door of the boat-house. A heap of old sacks lay on the floor, and there, on top of them, sat Olive, crying as if her heart would break.

  June was not the most sympathetic or compassionate of girls, but she felt a pang of sorrow for poor Olive, who was obviously in great distress. Now was the time, she realised, to let her sympathy and compassion shine through, to offer help and comfort to this poor, wretched girl. So June walked forward and said, in a gentle tone, ‘Come on, Olive, old girl. You really can’t stay here, you know. Why don’t you tell me what’s up, then I’ll take you back up to the school.’

  ‘You!’ cried Olive, sitting bolt upright, an expression of horror on her face. ‘Go away, June! You don’t care what happens to me, you just want to be the one to take me back to school to face Miss Grayling, so that all the others will say what a heroine you are!’

  June felt her temper rising, but she conquered it and, flopping down on to the sacks beside Olive, said, ‘You’re quite wrong, you know. If you must know, I feel simply terrible about accusing you of sneaking to Miss Tallant earlier, without any real proof. I’m sorry.’

  Olive stared at June, a strange expression on her face. Then she laughed, rather wildly, and said, ‘There’s no need for you to apologise. You were quite right. I was sneaking to Miss Tallant.’

  June stared at the girl in astonishment. ‘But it is Sylvia who’s the sneak! We know that now. You see, it turns out that she is Miss Tallant’s niece. Are you trying to cover up for her, Olive? And, if so, why? It’s not even as if the two of you are friends.’

  ‘I’m not covering up for anyone,’ said Olive, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief. ‘I don’t know anything about Sylvia being Miss Tallant’s niece, but I do know that she wasn’t the one who was sneaking to her. I was. So now you can go away and tell all the others that you were right, and that I am every bit as bad as you said I was.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this,’ said June firmly. ‘Olive, why did you spy on us for Miss Tallant? Was it just because you dislike us so?’

  Olive said nothing, but merely shrugged, refusing to look June in the eye, and June felt her temper rising again. Olive really was one of the most infuriating girls she had ever met, June thought, with her odd tempers and mean, spiteful nature. Perhaps the best thing that June could do was to haul the girl back up to the school and let Miss Grayling deal with her. She looked at Olive in distaste. And, as she did so, June saw something else. She saw the misery and loneliness behind the girl’s facade and, hard-hearted as she sometimes was, felt moved by it. June thought about her own behaviour during her years at Malory Towers, and did not feel proud of some of the things she had done. Yet she had been given chance after chance to change her ways. Perhaps Olive, too, should be given a chance.

  Olive, lost in her own unhappy thoughts, was most astonished when she felt an arm come round her shoulders, and heard June say rather gruffly, ‘You’re awfully sad, aren’t you, Olive? I would like to help you, if I can. Won’t you tell me what is bothering you?’

  This sudden, unexpected kindness was too much for Olive, who burst into tears again, and said between sobs, ‘I can’t. I’m so terribly ashamed.’

  ‘Well, we have all done things that we are ashamed of, at times,’ said June, patting the girl’s shoulder. ‘I certainly have anyway! But the thing I have always found is that if I’ve done something bad, it seems to become more serious, and weigh more heavily on me, if I keep it to myself. A trouble shared is a trouble halved, and all that.’

  Olive’s sobs quietened a little, as she thought over what June had said. Then, at last, she turned towards the girl and said, ‘Very well, I will tell you. I don’t suppose it matters much if you hate me afterwards, for nobody likes me anyway!’

  June said nothing to this and, after a short silence, Olive began, ‘It all started with my step-sister, Annabel. From the moment that she and my step-mother moved in with Father and me, she has done nothing but cause trouble. But because she is so pretty and behaves so sweetly in front of the grown-ups, everyone believes her when she says that I am to blame. I suppose I don’t help myself by flying into a rage every time I am accused of something, but I simply can’t tell you how horrid and hurtful it is to be blamed for things that aren’t your fault all the time.’

  ‘I should jolly well think it would be!’ exclaimed June. ‘Go on, Olive.’

  ‘Well, at first Annabel and I went to the same day school together, though she was in a different form from me, of course,’ said Olive. ‘And soon she started making trouble for me there too. Taking people’s things and hiding them in my desk so that it looked as if I had taken them, and playing petty, mean tricks and blaming them on me.’

  ‘What a nasty little beast she sounds,’ said June. ‘I’ll bet that you flew into some fine rages with her!’

  ‘I did, of course,’ said Olive. ‘But that only made matters worse, for everyone would leap to the defence of dear, sweet little Annabel and became more convinced than ever that I was the one in the wrong. Eventually, Father decided that I was too troublesome to stay at home, and he sent me to boarding school.’

  June’s heart went out to Olive as she listened. No wonder that the girl felt bitter.

  ‘Of course, I felt terribly unhappy and terribly angry,’ said Olive. ‘I hated being away from home, and thinking of Annabel in my place, being spoilt by her mother and my father, and getting all of their love and attention, while I had none. That made me feel mean and spiteful, and I decided that if I was going to be sent away from home for doing horrid things, then I really would do them.’

  ‘So you turned into the person that everyone had accused you of being,’ said June. ‘Poor old Olive!’

  ‘Yes, but it gets much worse,’ said Olive, her voice trembling a little. ‘Everyone disliked me so much at t
hat school, mistresses and girls alike. And, when I look back at my behaviour, I really can’t blame them. Things came to a head when I accidentally knocked another girl, who couldn’t swim, into the pool. It really was an accident, June, but because I had behaved so badly all year, no one believed me and I was expelled.’

  June gave a gasp and Olive said, ‘You’re shocked. I knew that you would be.’

  ‘I’m shocked that one spoilt, silly little girl could cause so much trouble for you,’ said June in her forthright way. ‘And she will go on doing so, if we don’t think of a way to stop her, Olive.’

  Olive felt warmed by the way June had said ‘we’, and suddenly she felt a little less helpless and more hopeful for the future. With someone as strong and determined as June on her side, perhaps she would find a way to outwit the sly Annabel.

  ‘But you still haven’t told me how you came to spy on us for Miss Tallant,’ June said now. ‘I’m very curious about that.’

  ‘Well, I was just coming to that,’ said Olive. ‘You see, Miss Tallant used to teach at my old boarding school, so she knows all about the trouble I got into there, and about me being expelled. Miss Grayling knows too, but she must have seen some good in me, for she agreed to let me have a fresh start here at Malory Towers and promised to keep my secret.’

  ‘Well!’ said June, looking quite astonished. ‘That explains why Miss Tallant seemed so friendly with your people at half-term. That was one of the things that made us suspect that you were her niece. Now I see that we were quite wrong, and she had already met your people at your old school.’ June paused, her expression becoming hard, then went on, ‘And I suppose she threatened to give your secret away unless you reported to her on all the fourth form’s secrets and wrongdoing.’

  Olive nodded miserably, and June’s eyes flashed angrily as she said, ‘Well, Miss Grayling will be very interested to hear that, and I shall take great pleasure in telling her! Olive, you really are silly! If only you had told us this from the very beginning, Miss Tallant’s hold over you would have been broken.’