Fabulous Five 027 - The Scapegoat

by Betsy Haynes

  THE FABULOUS FIVE #27

  THE SCAPEGOAT

  BETSY HAYNES

  A BANTAM SKYLARK BOOK®

  NEW YORK • TORONTO • LONDON • SYDNEY • AUCKLAND

  RL 5, 009-012

  THE SCAPEGOAT

  A Bantam Skylark Book / November 1991

  Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere. The Fabulous Five is a registered trademark of Betsy Haynes and James Haynes.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1991 by Betsy Haynes and James Haynes.

  Cover art copyright © 1991 by Andrew Bacha.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

  ISBN 0-553-15872-4

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "Bantam Books" and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 666 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10103.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  OPM 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  CHAPTER 1

  "Thanks for the ride, Daddy," said Christie as Finchley pulled the big, black Mercedes-Benz limousine up to the curb in front of St. Margaret's school.

  "No problem, sweetheart," Mr. Winchell replied.

  Usually Christie rode one of the red, double-decker city buses to school. But today her father was going to a business meeting in France and had offered to have Finchley, the company chauffeur, drop her off on the way to the airport.

  Christie slid out of the car and shoved her hat down on her head. She didn't mind wearing the blue blazer and skirt that were the school's uniform, but the wide-brimmed hat was a real pain. It looked silly on her and blew off with the slightest breeze.

  "Well, look who just came to school in style!" called Nicki McAfee. "Is it the queen herself, arriving in her carriage?" Nicki, Phoebe Mahoney, and Eleanore Geach were standing by the gate to the schoolyard.

  Nicki had light brown hair that was cut short in the front and on top and long in back. She was flamboyant and reminded Christie of one of her friends from home, Beth Barry. Phoebe was more like Jana Morgan. She had dark brown hair and always seemed to be in control of herself. Eleanore—Ellie, as the others called her—was small and red-haired. She looked like Katie Shannon, but she was a lot less opinionated than Christie's friend back home.

  Phoebe joined in the teasing. "Maybe it's Lady Di."

  Other kids turned to see what was going on. Even Christie's science teacher, Miss Finney, who was just going into the school, stopped to look.

  Christie cringed. She hadn't thought coming to school in her father's company limousine would attract so much attention.

  "My dad had to go to the airport this morning," she quickly explained, "and he dropped me off on the way."

  "No need to explain to us," replied Nicki. "We know our places. Some of us were meant to be commoners, and some were meant to be royalty."

  Christie grinned. When they had first met, she had thought Nicki didn't like her and was singling her out. But it turned out that Nicki was that way with everyone. She just liked getting under people's skin.

  It had been hard for Christie when her family moved to London, England, a couple of months before because of her father's job. She had had to leave behind all her friends at Wakeman Junior High and everything else she loved. Leaving her best friends in The Fabulous Five was the toughest thing of all. She had known Jana Morgan, Beth Barry, Melanie Edwards, and Katie Shannon for almost as long as she could remember, and she missed them terribly.

  When her family first arrived in London, Christie had felt like a stranger. She didn't know anyone, and the schools were totally different. All the private schools, like St. Margaret's, were for either boys or girls. And for some strange reason, the private schools were called public schools. On top of that, there weren't any malls or places like Bumpers, the fast-food place back home, where kids could hang out. Even some words had different meanings, and Christie was constantly misunderstanding what was being said to her.

  "We were talking to Connie on the bus this morning," said Phoebe, changing the subject. "Guess what—he says he's going to ask his mum if he can have a horseback-riding party at his family's country home."

  Christie realized her mouth was open and shut it quickly. "Country home?" she asked. She knew the Farrells were something like fifteenth cousins to the queen of England and lived in a mansion in London. It was filled with all kinds of gorgeous furniture and huge, gilt-framed paintings of their ancestors. But Christie hadn't known they had another home in the country. They must be richer than she thought.

  "Yes, it's near Hoddesdon," said Phoebe. "It's not far from London. We went riding there once."

  Ellie got a dreamy look in her eyes. "They've got servants that bring you sandwiches and sweet cakes when you come in from riding."

  "And they've got all sorts of fabulous horses," joined in Nicki. Even she sounded excited.

  "That sounds fantastic," said Christie. "I hope Connie asks me to go."

  "He said he would," Phoebe assured her.

  Just then the bell in the belfry on top of the steep slate roof of St. Margaret's started chiming, and all the girls in the schoolyard moved toward the entrance. The gray stone building looked like a miniature castle, and Christie thought the solemn gonging of the bell fit it perfectly.

  "Neat car you came to school in today," said Becca Stewart as Christie took her seat in science class later that morning.

  "I didn't know your family had a chauffeur," said Denise Hume.

  Christie sighed. It seemed as if everyone had seen her come in the limousine. She was sorry she had let her father drop her off.

  "We don't," she answered, putting her backpack on her desk. "It's no big deal, really. The car belongs to my father's company, and Finchley works for them. They use it to take businesspeople around when they come into town. When it's not busy, he takes company people to and from the airport. My dad was going on a trip, so they just dropped me off." Christie hoped this would be the last time she would have to explain it.

  "That's neat, anyway," said Becca. "It won't hurt your image to come to school in a limousine."

  Christie shrugged and smiled. Right now she was more worried about what Miss Finney would think about her science project. She had worked hard on it the night before.

  Christie looked at Miss Finney as she was taking roll. The teacher's hair was streaked with gray, and she wore black, plastic-rimmed glasses. Her mouth, with its turned-down corners, made her look as if she never laughed.

  Christie had been in Miss Finney's class for just a few weeks and hadn't done anything to make her angry, but she couldn't help feeling as if the teacher didn't like her. First Christie thought it was her imagination, but Miss Finney hardly ever called on her. When Christie raised her hand to ask a question, sometimes the teacher ignored her.

  Suddenly Miss Finney turned her stern eyes on Christie. Christie looked away quickly.
<
br />   "All right, class, bring your experiments to the front of the room and place them on the table," said the teacher.

  Carefully Christie took the glass jar out of her backpack and looked at the stalk of celery floating in it. She had written her name on a piece of tape on the side of the jar, as she was supposed to. Good, she thought. My celery's still red.

  The experiment was supposed to demonstrate how plants suck up water and nutrients into their stalks and leaves. Following the instructions Miss Finney had given them, Christie had filled a jar with water, then stirred in food coloring. Next she cut off the bottom of the celery stalk and put the stalk in the water. Christie thought the way the celery changed from pale green to red was interesting, but it was really pretty simple. She didn't see how she could have done anything wrong.

  Following Becca, Christie put her experiment on the table with the others. She looked quickly at the row of jars. The celery in each of them was a deep shade of red, just as hers was.

  The class waited quietly as Miss Finney picked up the jars one by one, shook them, and wrote down a grade both on the tape with the student's name and in her grade book. When she got to Christie's, the teacher barely looked at it before writing a grade on it.

  "You may pick up your experiments at the end of class," Miss Finney announced when she was finished.

  The rest of the hour was a lecture on how plants and animals use water and food. Christie listened carefully, took lots of notes, and tried to show the teacher she was interested.

  Sarah Pike, who was Miss Finney's pet, raised her hand almost every five minutes to ask questions about things the teacher had just said. Becca rolled her eyes at Christie each time Sarah did it.

  When the bell rang, Miss Finney ignored it, as she usually did, and continued talking. As the minutes ticked by, girls started squirming nervously. Christie looked at her watch. She would have to hurry to make it to her next class in time. Why did Miss Finney always keep them after the bell? She seemed to think her class was the only one they had.

  Finally the teacher stopped talking and told them they were dismissed. The girls rushed to the table to grab their experiments and get out the door.

  "I got an A!" squealed Sarah.

  "Lucky you," said another girl. "I only got a B."

  "I got a B, too," said someone else.

  Nodding toward Sarah, Becca whispered to Christie, "She's probably the only one who got an A."

  Christie took her jar, glanced at it quickly, and stuffed it into her backpack. Then she froze. Frowning, she reopened her pack and pulled the jar back out. She looked at it again in disbelief. Printed boldly on the tape next to her name was a D-!

  CHAPTER 2

  Christie stayed behind as the other girls left and shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. Finally the teacher looked up.

  "Yes, Miss Winchell?"

  "Uh . . . Miss Finney," Christie managed to say. "I got a D minus on my experiment. Is that right? I mean . . . did you really mean to give me that grade?"

  "Of course. Otherwise why would I have given it to you?"

  Christie couldn't believe her ears. She had never gotten a D in her whole life. "What did I do wrong, Miss Finney?"

  The teacher stared at her for a moment. "You obviously hurried your experiment, Miss Winchell. Your celery had barely changed to red. I suggest that you follow instructions more carefully next time, and give yourself time to complete the experiment properly."

  Christie was about to protest that she had, but the look on Miss Finney's face stopped her. Her shoulders sagged, and she left the room.

  "I'm sorry I'm late, ma'am," Christie apologized as she slipped into Mrs. Eberhardt's English literature class. The teacher nodded and continued lecturing.

  Christie pulled out her English book and looked over the shoulder of the girl in front of her to see what page the class was on. Then she settled back to try to listen.

  Instead her mind kept going back to Miss Finney's class and the experiment with the celery. What could she have done wrong? She went over the instructions in her mind. She knew them word for word. She had been careful, and she had taken her time.

  Christie tried to remember how the jars lined up on the lab table in Miss Finney's room had looked. She couldn't remember there being that much difference in the color of any of the stalks. Maybe Sarah's celery was a little more red than the others. Christie didn't know for sure. But she was sure that hers wasn't so different from the others that she deserved a D-. Maybe there had been a glare on the glass, and Miss Finney just hadn't been able to see the color of her celery very well. Christie's spirits lifted. I'll just take it back to her and have her look at it again, she decided.

  Just as quickly her spirits spiraled downward. I can't do that, she thought. Miss Finney might think I put more color in it before I brought it back. She'll say I cheated.

  Sitting up straight, Christie clenched her fists. Mr. Dracovitch, her science teacher back in the States, had made science so interesting, she was sure now that she wanted to be a scientist. Her parents had told her that if she made good enough grades, she might even be able to go to Oxford University here in England. Oxford was supposed to be one of the best universities in the world.

  I know I can get an A in science, she thought. I'll try twice as hard on the next project. No, ten times as hard. Feeling better, she focused on what Mrs. Eberhardt was saying.

  "There's a letter for you, sweetheart," Mrs. Winchell said as Christie walked into the kitchen after school.

  Christie dropped her books on the counter and grabbed the mail.

  "It's from Chase," said her mother, smiling. "This is your lucky day." Christie took the letter upstairs to her room to read it in private.

  "Getting a letter from Chase is about the only lucky thing that's happened to me today," Christie announced to the five stuffed bears arranged on her bed. The bears had been given to her by her friends in The Fabulous Five the day they saw her off at the airport.

  A thrill ran through Christie as she tore open the envelope. She had dated Chase Collins before they moved. Even though she had gotten in trouble because he had talked her into breaking curfew several times, she still liked him. Her heart pounded in her chest as she read the letter.

  Dear Christie:

  I got your letter. It sounds as if you're seeing some neat things, like the Tower of London. That's really grisly about those two princes being murdered there. Do you think you'll get to visit Winston Churchill's war room sometime? I read that it's all underground and there are lots of rooms and passages. The walls are covered with maps that show where all the battles were fought during World War II. If you get to go there, you've got to get doubles on all the handouts and send them to me.

  Swimming is going great. We had a meet with Georgetown Junior High, and I won four first-place medals.

  Next month they're going to have tryouts for the Junior Olympics. Coach Benfield is helping me train for it. I have to admit, I've gotten to be a better swimmer since I quit skipping practice.

  As a matter of fact I'm even doing better in math, too. All my grades are up. I keep thinking about how well I could have been doing in everything if I had met you sooner. See what a good influence you've been on me!

  Is there any chance your family will move back to America? I'd sure like it if you did.

  Got to close for now. Don't forget the souvenirs from Churchill's war room.

  Chase

  X O X O X O

  Christie could hardly believe it. She had thought he had put X's and O's on an earlier letter and then erased them. This time he had left them.

  "He really does like me," she whispered, holding the letter to her chest.

  Chase would undoubtedly win tons of medals in the Junior Olympics. After all, hadn't he won six gold medals in the Southern California Olympics before his family moved? She would love to be there to cheer him on.

  Christie got up, went to her desk and opened the upper righthand drawer, where she
kept her magic box. She called it that because whenever she was lonely, she took it out and looked at all the things her friends back home had sent her. In it were the friendship books that each of The Fabulous Five members had made for her. The books had all kinds of things in them, like class pictures, snapshots of the five of them doing fun things together, and lots of lists—lists of their favorite singers, actors, colors, and books; a list of their birthdays; even lists of what they liked about boys.

  Christie put the books aside and took out Chase's things. She loved the picture of him standing on a diving platform with a medal around his neck. He was really handsome, with his black hair and dark eyes. Next she pulled out the note paper on which he had written "C. C. + C. W."

  She was about to put his latest letter in the box, when she changed her mind. Instead she took it to her bed and put it under her pillow. Maybe it'll help me dream about him, she thought.

  CHAPTER 3

  "When's Dad coming back?" Christie asked her mother as they ate dinner together that evening.

  "Tomorrow night."

  "He likes his job a lot, doesn't he?" Christie poked at her food.

  "Yes, he does," replied Mrs. Winchell. "This is the first chance he's had to run a company, and he's doing quite well at it."

  "Does that mean they'll want him to stay here?"

  Her mother looked at her closely. "You still miss your friends, don't you, sweetheart?"

  Christie nodded. "Sometimes I miss them a lot."

  "I miss mine, too, honey," her mother said, patting Christie's hand. "We wouldn't miss the people back home if they weren't such good friends. Your father is doing a good job, and I'm sure the people in headquarters appreciate it. Eventually we'll be transferred back to the United States, but there's no telling when that will be."

  She looked sadly at Christie. "I know that doesn't help much, but think of all the new friends you're making. There's Phoebe, and Nicki, and Eleanore. You're starting to be pretty good buddies with them. And there's Mrs. Mansfield and all the other people in our court, and let's not forget jenny Fitzhugh."