Boy Trouble at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  STRAW HAT

  First published by Granada Publishing 1980

  This ebook edition first published by Straw Hat 2011

  Copyright © Anne Digby 1980, 1988, 2011

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the above publisher, Straw Hat

  A Catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

  eISBN-13: 978-1-899587-11-7

  'I'm not interested in boys,' said Rebecca, 'I'm going to stick to tennis.'

  Before the end of her first term in the Third Year Rebecca begins to wish she'd never met Robbie, Tish's car-mad brother. For Robbie is accused of joy-riding and Rebecca discovers that clearing him is likely to cost her her big chance in tennis – a place in the county squad.

  The fourth exciting book in the classic Trebizon series.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright & Permissions

  About this Book

  Chapter One Rebecca's Ambition

  Chapter Two Settling into Court House

  Chapter Three Robbie Behaves Badly

  Chapter Four Mara's New Dress

  Chapter Five Invitations to the Dance

  Chapter Six A Car Disappears

  Chapter Seven Tennis Rivals

  Chapter Eight A Dramatic Telephone Call

  Chapter Nine The Six Investigate

  Chapter Ten Looking after Robbie

  Chapter Eleven Rebecca v. Madeleine

  Chapter Twelve The Ultimatum

  Chapter Thirteen David has the Last Word

  The Trebizon Series in Reading Order

  More Anne Digby Titles

  And Some Other Favourites...

  Free Downloads, Facebook & Twitter

  ONE

  REBECCA'S AMBITION

  'I'm not interested in boys,' said Rebecca Mason before they went back to school. She was bouncing a ball up and down on her racket. 'I'm going to stick to tennis. You won't catch me going to those dances and things and mixing with the boys from Garth College.'

  'Nor me,' said Ishbel Anderson, who was called Tish for short. 'It's bad enough having a brother there.'

  As juniors at Trebizon, a boarding school in the west country, they had led a fairly sheltered existence. But this term Rebecca and her friends were going up into the middle school – and would be allowed more social life. Garth College was a boys' boarding school nearby and a lot of the Trebizon girls had brothers there. (Robbie Anderson went there and so did Sue Murdoch's two brothers, David and Edward.) A certain amount of intermingling went on at weekends, but that prospect didn't interest Rebecca very much.

  Tennis was her big interest in life these days . . . for a good reason!

  Her home was in south London but she'd actually been born in the west country – in the same county as Trebizon itself. This accident of birth qualified her for a new county scheme for junior players. Last term while she'd been playing tennis at school she had been spotted by Mrs. Seabrook (the county tennis scout down there) and picked for the junior reserve squad, a group of eight boys and girls who were to have special training through the winter months. The very best of them might get promoted to the County Junior 'D' squad at Christmas.

  For the summer holidays, Mrs Seabrook had arranged for Rebecca to join a tennis club near her London home. She has a natural talent for the game and great speed around the court, she had written to Mr and Mrs Mason, but she is entering tennis late and has a lot of ground to make up. Rebecca had played at the club almost every day and taken tennis lessons as well. She also practised her strokes for hours on end against the high brick wall at the back of their London house. She was making progress at an unprecedented rate.

  But there was something on her mind, as Tish discovered when she rang her up towards the end of the summer holidays and invited her to stay.

  'Oh, Tish, I'd love to come to your house! I've never been! But –'

  'But what?'

  'It's my tennis. They've put me into the Trebizon Open Tournament next Sunday. Mum and Dad are driving me back to school two days early, because Mrs Seabrook thinks I should be in it.'

  'You must be getting good!' exclaimed Tish. 'Robbie goes in for that. Hey!' She suddenly realized something. 'If you're going back early you can get two really good rooms in Court House, before anyone arrives! One for us three, you and me and Sue, and one for –'

  '– the other three. Margot and Mara and Elf!' Rebecca smiled down the phone. 'I'd already thought of that!'

  'Anyway, what's the problem?' Tish asked. 'That's not till next weekend, so what's to stop you coming here for a few days first?'

  'The problem is my tennis. It's awful. And guess who my partner's going to be in the tournament?'

  'Superman?'

  'Shut up, Tish!' laughed Rebecca. 'It's nearly as bad. Someone called David Driscoll. He's part of the county tennis set-up. He's the man who's going to be teaching our group! I'm dreading it . . .'

  'Well, why not come here and dread it in comfort?' Tish inquired.

  'I dunno, Tish . . .' Rebecca felt torn. 'I'd so like to come. But I daren't stop practising. I've joined this club, you see, and we've got this big wall at the back of the house –'

  'But we've got our own tennis court!' exclaimed Tish, now that she understood. 'Didn't I ever tell you?'

  'No!' Rebecca was amazed.

  'And Robbie can coach you!'

  'Robbie – your brother?'

  'Yes. He's really good – he wins all the tennis cups at Garth. He's working on a farm in the afternoons but he's here in the mornings. He'll help you. Say you'll come! Ask your parents – ring back!'

  'You bet!' said Rebecca.

  That conversation had taken place on Sunday.

  Now it was Tuesday morning. Rebecca was standing outside the gate of the Andersons' hard tennis court, discussing school with Tish while waiting for her first tennis lesson with Robbie.

  She could see him in the distance, rear view only, slim hips and long legs clad in old denim trousers. His head was under the bonnet of an elderly black saloon parked round the back of the house. Helen, Tish's elder sister, was standing beside him. He'd said he would only be a tick – but it was turning out to be a very long one.

  'Oh dear,' said Tish. 'Helen's asked him to fix her car before she drives back to London. He'll be hours. He's crazy about cars – he can't wait for the day when he'll be old enough to have a licence.'

  'Oh,' said Rebecca.

  In the distance, the engine gave a sudden loud roar. Robbie slammed down the bonnet, spoke quickly to Helen and then ran and jumped into the driving seat.

  'Helen's letting him drive it!' exclaimed Tish. 'Oh, she's stupid. She always lets him get round her.'

  Sure enough the car reversed, then turned, then mounted the expanse of bumpy rough grass that lay between the back of the house and the tennis court. The next moment it was bumping and jolting slowly over the tussocks towards them.

  'But he's not old enough to have a licence!' said Rebecca, alarmed.

  'He doesn't need one, as long as he stays in our grounds,' said Tish. 'He's been practising since he was thirteen. Nobody's car's safe when Robbie's around!'

  'Is he going to run us over?'

  'Shouldn't think so!' grinned Tish.

  Robbie braked hard alongside them and wound the window down. His black curly hair stood on end, there was a smear of oil on his forehead and he w
as smiling happily.

  'Sorry, Rebecca!' he shouted above the engine noise. 'Just got to get a bit of driving in before Helen goes. Won't be long. You two have a knock up!'

  He revved up the engine and then the car went lurching off around the outside of the tennis court and through an open gate that led into the paddock beyond, honking loudly. Half a dozen young ewes, Dr Anderson's pride and joy, at once stopped their peaceful grazing, picked up their short little legs and wobbled away as fast as they could go, all in a huddle, baaa-ing crossly, until they reached the hedge in the far corner of the paddock. They then resumed their grazing beneath a spreading oak tree, a safe and secluded spot.

  'Lunatic!' said Tish. 'Come on, let's play.'

  They opened the gate of the tennis court and went inside, wound the net up to its correct height and then started to knock the ball backwards and forwards. Rebecca thought that the sound of the ball thwacking against racket strings was one of the nicest sounds on earth and she began to feel very happy.

  'Rebeck!' exclaimed Tish, racing to retrieve a forehand and only just getting it back. 'Wow! What's happened to you?'

  Rebecca was already up at the net and put Tish's loose return away with an angled backhand volley. She couldn't help laughing at the expression on Tish's face. Tish was a very sound player and even three months ago could have beaten Rebecca easily. Now she was flabbergasted.

  'Have I improved?'

  'Improved. It's amazing!'

  They settled down to a hard knock-up, pelting the balls backwards and forwards. Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca could see across the hedge and into the paddock. The battered old black car roared round and round the field, bucking and roaring over the bumpy patches. Each time the car came close to the hedge she could glimpse Robbie, hunched over the steering wheel, the breeze from the window blowing his hair around, a look of glazed ecstasy on his face. Then with a great deal of brrrmphing and revving and gear changing, he would take the car into a tight U-turn and brrroooommmmm off across the field again.

  'Does he ever hit anything?' she called out to Tish.

  'Not very often!' replied Tish, sending up a high lob.

  A moment later there came a screech of brakes and a tremendous juddering sound as Robbie, coming up to the hedge and turning too late, had to stop dead.

  'Oh, no!' said Tish.

  The car slid forward, before Robbie could stop it, and gently nose-dived into the wide ditch that ran beneath the hedge.

  Glancing back towards the house, Rebecca caught a glimpse of Helen's pale face at an upstairs window. She seemed to be waving her arms.

  Robbie switched off the engine and climbed out of the car, shouting through the hedge in the direction of the tennis court.

  'Quick, you two, come and help!'

  Rebecca and Tish ran round into the paddock and tried hard not to laugh at the sight of the car, its front wheels hanging down in the ditch. No damage had been done.

  'Come on, help me push it out before Helen sees!' said Robbie, already down in the ditch and getting his shoulder under the front bumper. 'She gets excited.'

  'She has seen,' Tish stated calmly. 'And she may be excited already.'

  Luckily Robbie was tall and strong. With the three of them heaving and lifting and puffing, they had the car safely out of the ditch by the time Helen arrived. She was smartly dressed and wearing high-heeled shoes, ready to drive back to her flat in London.

  'Is everything all right?' she asked suspiciously.

  'Fine!' said Robbie nonchalantly, though his face was still red from his exertions. 'I've given it a good run and the timing's okay. It was just the plugs. They were filthy.'

  'I don't see why you have to drive it so fast,' said Helen. 'I think I'd better take it now.'

  'Okay.' Robbie looked disappointed. 'Let me just put it back on the drive for you.' He jumped into the driving seat quickly, before Helen could refuse, and held open the passenger door for her. They reversed and then went slowly and very soberly off through the paddock gate. Rebecca and Tish walked along behind.

  They watched as Robbie parked the car on the back drive. While Helen went into the house to get her overnight bag, he got out a handkerchief and polished the windscreen for her, although it was already perfectly clean.

  'Robbie!' yelled Tish, cupping her hands to her mouth. 'Rebecca's waiting!'

  Robbie shoved the handkerchief in his pocket, surveyed the car once more and then tore himself away.

  'Coming!' he shouted. 'Got my racket there?'

  As Robbie ambled slowly and dreamily across the grass towards them, every so often glancing back at the car as though he were saying goodbye to it, Tish whispered to Rebecca:

  'Some car or other will get Robbie into a whole lot of trouble one day!'

  Rebecca had a marvellous time at the Andersons' house. It was fun being with Tish again, and they wished that Sue, the other member of their trio, could have been there, too. But they would soon be reunited – the autumn term at Trebizon was less than a week away now!

  Rebecca began to lose some of her nerves about playing in the Trebizon Open Tournament on Sunday. Robbie was a very good player indeed and he played with her every morning, making her work like a slave on some of her weaker strokes.

  'If you do make mistakes, your partner will cover up for you,' said Robbie. 'It's not as though it's a singles tournament. As a matter of fact you're much better than the girl I'm going to be playing with.' He said that quite happily and Rebecca wondered who the girl was. 'Have they found someone good to play with you, Rebeck?'

  'Yes,' said Rebecca. 'He's a county tennis coach – a new one. He's going to be teaching our group this winter! He must be good, that's why I'm scared. I hope he won't get annoyed with me.'

  'What's his name? Maybe I know him.'

  'David Driscoll,' said Rebecca.

  Recognition crossed Robbie's face.

  'Oh, yes. Driscoll. He is good. He's a Trebizon boy – lives in the town.'

  'Boy?' said Rebecca, in surprise.

  'Well, ''young man" then. He was at Trebizon Tech. but I think he left this summer. He plays county tennis – senior level – drives a little moped everywhere. He was hoping to get a job in export, somebody told me, but it must have fallen through if he's hanging around doing tennis coaching.'

  'Do you know him well then?' Rebecca asked.

  'No! Played against him, that's all. Garth has regular tennis fixtures with Trebizon Tech. Every time we've met he's beaten me.'

  'But he must be older than you!' said Rebecca, tactfully.

  'Three years,' said Robbie. Then he gave his wide smile, so reminiscent of Tish's. 'It's not a very high-powered tournament on Sunday. With luck I'll get to the finals. What's the betting that you and David get to the finals, too – and beat me and Virginia?'

  'Who's Virginia?' Rebecca asked Tish, later.

  'Virginia Slade,' said Tish.

  'Oh!' said Rebecca. 'I know.'

  Virginia Slade was at Trebizon and was two years older than they were – a pretty girl with a mass of little blonde bubble curls. She was a senior in Court House, the same boarding house that the six friends in III Alpha were going into. It seemed that her father was Robbie's housemaster at Garth College – which was how Robbie had got to know her.

  'It's going to be embarrassing having Robbie hanging around Court at the weekends,' said Tish gloomily.

  'Why, is he keen on her then?' asked Rebecca.

  'Besotted! Half the boys in Syon House are. Apparently when she goes to help her mother do the teas for house matches they flock round the tea urn all afternoon. Suddenly get wildly interested in the stuff.'

  'I can just imagine,' said Rebecca. She could feel another spot coming up on her chin and rubbed it. 'But she must like Robbie if she's playing with him on Sunday. She must like him more than the rest.'

  'She likes playing with someone who's good!' said Tish cynically. 'I think that's all there is to it. But he's struck a hard bargain. In return for bei
ng her partner on Sunday, she's got to let him take her to the Hallowe'en Dance!'

  'What, the one that's held at our school?'

  'That's right,' said Tish. 'We'll be allowed to go to it this year if we want. We're considered big girls now! If you don't know any boys, you put your name down on a list and your housemistress scrapes up a partner for you!'

  'No thanks!' said Rebecca.

  After lunch on Friday it was time for Rebecca to return home. She went to find Robbie. He was round the back of the house, wearing old clothes and pumping up his bicycle tyres, ready to go to work for the last time. He'd earned a lot of money these holidays apparently and put it all in Post Office savings towards what he called his 'car fund'. Rebecca was amazed at such dedication as it would be a long time before he could actually buy an old car and drive it on the roads.

  He stopped pumping and looked up and smiled at her.

  'Going?'

  'Yes. I just wanted to say thanks,' said Rebecca, shyly. 'It's been boring for you, but for me it's been a big help – I don't feel half so nervous now.'

  'It hasn't been boring,' said Robbie, shortly. He returned to his pumping. 'You're going to be really good soon. They'll be putting you in one of the county squads before you know it.'

  Rebecca turned away quickly, a tingling feeling going down her spine.

  Ten minutes later, Tish pushed her on board the Green Line bus that would take her back through the Hertfordshire villages and into London.

  'Don't forget to find two rooms together! Good luck on Sunday! See you Monday. 'Bye!'

  Rebecca waved until Tish was out of sight. Court House was going to be fun! And did Robbie really mean it, did he know what he was talking about? The County Junior 'D' Squad after Christmas – was it possible?

  Of course not. It was a dream. She mustn't even think about it.

  TWO

  SETTLING INTO COURT HOUSE

  On Saturday morning Rebecca said goodbye to the terraced house in south London, near the common. It would be nearly a year before she saw it again. It had been a happy time, living in her own home again for two months, having her parents back. But now her father's leave was almost up. He and her mother were due to return to Saudi Arabia and the house would be let furnished until next summer.