Boy Trouble at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  'Sssssh!' He let go of her. 'Quick, shut the door!'

  She stared at him and now she recognized him.

  'Robbie!' she said, aghast.

  He looked panic stricken.

  'What are you doing here?' he asked.

  TEN

  LOOKING AFTER ROBBIE

  'What am I doing here?' said Rebecca. She was angry about the fright she'd been given. 'What are you doing here, more like it?' Then, her eyes getting used to the semi-darkness, she saw that Robbie's face was haggard and drawn. He looked as though he hadn't slept much, or eaten much, for days. 'Oh, Robbie, are you all right?'

  'Sorry if I scared you.' He took hold of her arm, more gently this time. 'Did you know I was here – has somebody seen me –?'

  Rebecca shook her head.

  'I came to find my watch –'

  Robbie expelled his breath.

  'Oh, it's your watch? It's over on the ledge there! That's all you came for?' He looked profoundly relieved. He let go of her arm. 'Don't you dare tell anybody I'm here, Rebecca!'

  She stared around the little hut. Robbie's trunk was open, dirty clothes spilling out of it. The unwashed socks were especially smelly. On the floor was a pile of bracken and dried up seaweed, a bed of sorts. Robbie had been sitting there when she'd arrived. Fish and chip papers were screwed up in a corner of the hut. What a mess! There was a bottle of drinking water. The truth dawned upon her.

  'You're living here!' she gasped. 'You didn't catch a train at all. You've been living here since last Sunday! But how –'

  'I tricked the Head's chauffeur into driving me to the bus station, just round the other side of the headland. Easy.'

  'Robbie!' Rebecca's lower lip was trembling slightly. At last she could tell him! 'We rushed down to the station on Sunday, to see you before you caught the train –'

  'I couldn't get on that train!' Robbie cut in. His eyes were smouldering. 'I know I behaved stupidly. Lost my temper and smashed a window. Got myself chucked out of College for the rest of term. I accept that. I've no complaints. But there's one thing I can't accept!' he said vehemently. 'Virginia's convinced I did it! I'm not leaving until I've found out who really did take the car and then 1'll turn 'em in at Trebizon police station! That'll show her. After that,' he shrugged, 'I'll go home like a lamb.'

  He fell into a brooding silence, staring into space. It was a silence that Rebecca didn't dare to disturb. In any case, she felt deflated.

  Robbie was still crazy about Virginia, then! He was still carrying the torch for her and it burned with undiminished brightness.

  'Sorry!' he said suddenly, coming out of his reverie. 'You were saying something and I butted in. That you all went down to the station –?'

  'Yes, the six of us,' said Rebecca, in a flat voice. 'To tell you we all support you, even Tish. You'd phoned me – remember?'

  'Great!' His face, tired and haggard though it was, suddenly lit up with a big, warm, Anderson-type smile. Rebecca's spirits at once improved. 'And you've questioned everybody, like I asked?'

  'We've done more than that!' Rebecca said. 'We've searched outside Court House for clues and been up the Clifford Road. We've found the tree that the car hit – and we've even been to Bond's barn and searched that, too – ' Her voice faltered. 'We've drawn a blank so far, though.'

  'Never mind!' He had cheered up and he looked grateful. 'You've been doing your best. No clues at all?'

  'Well,' Rebecca said dubiously. 'Tish thinks we've got a possible suspect. A girl in the Fourth Year called Margaret Exton –'

  She explained all about it. When she'd finished, Robbie shook his head and laughed. 'Ridiculous! Typical Tish! No, it's not her. I think I know who the thieves are –'

  'You do?' gasped Rebecca. 'Who?'

  Robbie was sitting on the edge of his trunk, frowning and intense, flipping the dark glasses on to his open palm.

  'Some of the Pop Inn boys. The trouble is, proving it.'

  The Pop Inn was a cheap cafe at the top end of the town where a gang of local boys congregated. They were a tough lot and were sometimes in trouble with the police.

  'You sure about that, Robbie?'

  'I've been up there every night, drinking tea, watching them,' said Robbie. 'What d'you think of my disguise, by the way?' He put the dark glasses back on. 'They all wear these things, even though it's the middle of winter and half of them never seem to bother to shave.'

  Rebecca glanced at him and shuddered, remembering the fright he'd given her.

  'You'll pass,' she said.

  'There's three of them I've got my eye on,' Robbie said. He was secretly rather pleased with himself. 'They boast amongst themselves about various cars they went joy-riding in, back in the summer, especially foreign ones or interesting ones. Last night I followed them all round the town and I saw them try the door of an Alfa Romeo.'

  He took the dark glasses off and Rebecca could see that there was an eager light in his eyes.

  'But Saturday's their big night! I've got to hang on somehow –'

  'Saturday?' asked Rebecca.

  'That's when they did Slade's car, remember? A Saturday night! The town's full of flash cars then. The boys go drinking and then likely as not they pinch a car. Only I'm going to be right there. I'll catch them at it red-handed and call the police and –'

  'But they'd beat you up first, Robbie!' Rebecca said in horror.

  He seemed to get angry.

  'Look, Rebecca. You get back to school now. Forget it.'

  'You must let me tell the others!' Rebecca pleaded. The look in his eyes scared her! 'Well – just Tish.'

  'Don't be daft!' He gripped her shoulders. 'You'll tell nobody – anything – promise?'

  'Okay, I – I promise,' sighed Rebecca.

  He relaxed his grip. She stared at his haggard face and then looked round the hut. She was worried about him! She couldn't just leave him –

  'Robbie, what did you mean about hanging on somehow? Are you eating? Have you got any money –?'

  'Not much,' he admitted. 'The College gave me a train ticket and three quid for the journey the other end. I just go to the chip shop at night, the rest goes on cups of tea at the Pop Inn.'

  'You don't eat all day?' asked Rebecca.

  'So what!' snapped Robbie. 'Come on, Rebeck, you'd better get going. What time's your tea?'

  She looked at his watch and then set her own.

  'Quite soon,' she said. 'I'll go in a minute, but I'm coming back.'

  'What for? It's risky –'

  'I don't care!' said Rebecca. 'I won't let anybody see me. I'll bring you food and money. You can't go on like this.'

  Food! Money! He gazed at her. He couldn't hide his gratitude.

  'Guess who's not going to argue!' he said. Then he stared. 'Now what are you doing?'

  Rebecca was collecting all the dirty clothes together and bundling them up inside a dirty shirt.

  'I'll wash all this stuff for you – don't worry, I won't let anybody see it – it's squalid in here!'

  She kicked the door open, looked round outside to make sure that the beach was still deserted and then – as the darkness gathered around her – sprinted off across the sand with Robbie Anderson's dirty washing bundled in her arms.

  When she reached Court House, the coast was clear. Everyone had gone to tea. She raced into the laundry room and flung the clothes into the washing machine, shook in some soap powder, then switched it on.

  She ran all the way to the main school buildings and was late for tea.

  'Where have you been?' asked Tish.

  'Practising for Saturday, yes?' said Mara.

  It was horrible having to keep a secret from them – and what a secret! – and not being able to look Tish in the eye.

  'I'm starving,' she said, taking three slices of bread and butter at once.

  'You must be!' commented Sue.

  Nobody saw Rebecca fold the thin slices of buttered 'bread and stuff them in her pocket. After a decent interval she reac
hed for some more. Talk at the table had resumed, babbling all around her.

  '. . . and then Miss Heath wrote in the margin . . .' came Tish's voice.

  There were shrieks of laughter.

  Rebecca was thinking: I've put it on the quick wash cycle. that takes about thirty minutes, so does tea. If I'm first out of the dining hall and run all the way, I'll get back to Court before anyone else. I've got to get the stuff out of the machine before anybody sees it!

  'Don't you remember, Beck?' came Tish's voice. She nudged her sharply in the ribs. 'Oi! Wake up!'

  'Remember what?'

  'The time you wrote that English essay and Miss Heath wrote in red in the margin DON'T ABBREVIATE!'

  Everyone laughed again and Rebecca managed to raise a smile.

  'Where are you dashing off to?' asked Sue, as soon as tea finished.

  'My – my racket!' said Rebecca, with sudden inspiration. 'Left it out in the courtyard – looks like rain. See you later!' And she was gone.

  It was true enough – about the racket. Rebecca took the track that led to Norris House, scooped up her tennis racket and ball from the courtyard where she'd flung them down earlier, then hurried across towards Court House.

  'I left the light on in the laundry room!' she thought, looking along the row of windows at the back of the boarding house. 'Unless someone's in there.'

  She let herself in by the kitchen door, rushed along to the laundry room and burst in. Then she stopped dead. There was somebody bending down in front of the washing machine, about to open the porthole door!

  It was Mrs Barrington!

  'Oh, hallo, Rebecca,' said the housemistress, turning round. 'Is this your washing? The machine's just stopped. I was going to take it out and put these towels in . . .'

  'I'll do it!' choked Rebecca, grabbing a plastic basket and coming up to the machine with such momentum that Mrs Barrington had to step hurriedly aside.

  Rebecca bent very close to the porthole door to shield what lay within and gingerly opened it. As she hauled the garments out and dropped them into the basket, she screwed them up as tightly as she could, so that they'd be unrecognizable. Shirts . . . socks . . . a jumper . . . underpants! She could feel Mrs Barrington's presence, right behind her. She worked as fast as she could and her face was burning.

  'All right?' asked the housemistress pleasantly, as Rebecca moved away with her basket, one arm over the top of it. Mrs Barrington moved forward with her load and bent down to put the first towel in. 'Oh, Rebecca –'

  'Yes?'

  Rebecca was tipping Robbie's clothes into the tumble dryer as fast as she could go, over in the corner of the room. Now she turned, a horrible feeling in her stomach, as Mrs Barrington advanced upon her, holding aloft one of Robbie's navy blue socks.

  'You've left this in the machine,' she said. 'One of your hockey socks by the look of it.'

  'Thanks!' Rebecca almost snatched the sock from her and flung it in with the rest. She switched on the tumble dryer and leant against it, protectively, feeling almost faint with relief.

  'There,' said Mrs Barrington, a minute later, as she straightened up and switched on the washing machine. 'Going to be in here long?'

  'Yes!' said Rebecca quickly. The tumble dryer was an old model and would take about thirty minutes to get Robbie's clothes bone dry.

  'Be an angel and put the towels in the dryer for me when they're done,' said Mrs Barrington. Rebecca nodded. 'Good girl!'

  So when her five friends came looking for her, a few minutes later, Rebecca was able to say quite truthfully:

  'Can't come. I'm drying some of our towels for Mrs B.'

  'We're wondering how to find out if Margaret Exton's got a boy friend,' said Tish. 'We're going to have an Action Committee meeting.'

  'Tish still thinks Margaret took the car!' said Sue, catching Rebecca's eye.

  'And she could be right!' Mara said loyally.

  'Come on, Rebeck!' said Tish impatiently. 'Let's all go and make some coffee. We need your great brain and your photographic memory on this. Maggie Exton must know some boys. Who might have come with her in the car that night! Come on – you can leave that stuff drying.'

  Rebecca was leaning against the dryer, hands on the lid. She felt edgy.

  'It's a waste of time!' she said. 'I think you're barking up the wrong tree.'

  'Drop it, Tish,' said Sue. 'Rebecca's just as worried about Robbie as the rest of us but she's got Saturday to think about. She's missed a lot of practice this week over this.'

  'True,' said Tish. She looked at Rebecca guiltily now. 'I don't blame you for being a bit fed up with it all. See you later.'

  Rebecca's lip trembled as they all trooped out. If only they knew! She longed to run after them and tell them where Robbie was, and how pleased he was that they were trying to help him. Most of all she wanted to tell them what he was planning to do on Saturday night, and how scared she was for him.

  But she couldn't, of course.

  Instead she crept down to the beach just before nine o'clock, with her small torch to light the way. She carried a big plastic carrier bag. Inside were Robbie's clothes, clean and neatly folded, some food to keep him going – and money. It wasn't much, but it was all Rebecca had.

  'I'll just leave the bag in the hut,' thought Rebecca. 'I expect he's gone into the town now.'

  Then the moon came out and she saw him standing down by the shore, listening to the breakers, hands in his pockets. A lonely, distant silhouette, waiting for her to come back.

  It wasn't safe to shout, so she whistled.

  He ran all the way to meet her.

  'Rebeck!' He took the bag from her and looked inside. 'You wonderful girl!'

  Suddenly he dropped the bag and lifted her right up to his shoulders as though she weighed no more than a feather.

  'Come on, I'll give you a lift back!'

  They both laughed as he ran with her all the way across the sands, up over the top of the dunes and right up to the little wicket gate that led back into the school grounds.

  Gently, he lifted her down.

  "Night, 'night!' he said. 'Off you go! You haven't told anybody?

  'Nobody!'

  She ran all the way back to Court House, thinking how strong Robbie was. If he did get into a fight on Saturday, maybe he'd come out of it all right.

  Every spare minute on Friday, Rebecca practised her tennis. The Exonford Junior Indoor tournament was only one day away.

  As soon as it got dark she went down to the beach hut again and took Robbie a blanket and some more food. She'd cadged some cold sausages from the kitchen and heated up some tinned soup and put it in a vacuum flask.

  She waited in the hut, so that she could take the flask back. Two candles cast a dim light and Robbie had blacked out the window. While he ate his supper with relish, Rebecca tidied up the hut a little bit for him.

  'Going into the town?' she asked.

  'Not tonight,' he replied. 'Mmmm. This soup is good. I went last night after I saw you. I'm glad I did. I've found out all I need to know. Which pub they're meeting in tomorrow night. I'll be there!'

  He leant forward and touched Rebecca's arm.

  'That money you've loaned me makes all the difference. It means I can spend the evening in the pub and stick right close to them.'

  'Robbie –' began Rebecca.

  She was about to say that he was under-age to go in pubs and that if he were caught he'd probably be expelled from Garth for good. But she knew it would be a waste of breath.

  'Don't worry,' he said. 'I'll only be drinking shandy. But tomorrow's the big day!'

  Once again she felt frightened for him.

  She didn't even tell Robbie that tomorrow was her big day, too.

  ELEVEN

  REBECCA v. MADELEINE

  'Tish!' whispered Rebecca tensely. It was in the middle of the night and she was kneeling by Tish's bed, gently shaking her. 'Wake up a minute. I want to talk to you.'

  Rebecca couldn't sleep. She'd tos
sed and turned for hours, listening to Tish and Sue's peaceful breathing in the other beds until she could have screamed out loud.

  She'd said the words a hundred times in her head –

  Tish – we've got to do something!

  'You awake, Tish?'

  'Uh?' The head of dark curls moved on the pillow and the eyes flickered open. 'Whassamatter?'

  'Tish, I can't sleep. I'm worried about Robbie –'

  'Oh, him. Aren't we all?' She reached up her arms and gave Rebecca an affectionate hug. 'Don't be. Go back to bed. You've got to play tomorrow – remember?'

  'I –'

  The words wouldn't come. Rebecca suddenly felt ashamed of herself. What on earth could Tish do about it? She couldn't tell Robbie what to do, any more than Rebecca could. She'd just be worried stiff, that's all.

  The tension was broken. Rebecca went back to bed and at last fell asleep.

  When the rising gong went she was achingly tired, but she felt better after she'd washed and had breakfast. It was Saturday, November 28th – tournament day! If she did well, and especially if she beat Madeleine Marks, she'd be promoted into the D squad in the new year. If she didn't . . .

  'Good luck,' said Joss Vining, outside the dining hall. 'They'll have the selection meeting tonight, after the tournie. They'll phone Miss Willis tomorrow if you've been picked. So you'll soon be put out of your misery. I'd love to see you get a place, Rebecca!'

  The six walked back to Court House together. Rebecca went to get ready.

  'She looks tired,' said Sue anxiously. 'Have you ever seen her so tense as she's been the last couple of days?'

  'She's in a hurry to do well!' said Tish. 'She should have been pushed into the game when she was about nine, but she didn't have that kind of chance. Now she wants to make up for lost time. She doesn't want any setbacks. But she's worried about that stupid brother of mine, too . . .'

  Tish frowned, remembering.

  They all flocked round Rebecca when she was ready to leave, the three A's, Elizabeth, Jane and Jenny as well, patting her on the back. 'Good luck!' Even some Fourth and Fifth Years joined in. Then, at the front door of Court House, Virginia Slade came up to her.