Summer Camp at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  He felt the mainsheet go taut in his hand as the mainsail stopped flapping and filled with wind; he held on fast, turned and grabbed the tiller. Now, if he pulled the tiller hard over, the rudder would work and the boat would go round in a full circle . . .

  It was turning . . . turning . . . It was easy! Like driving a car at the dodgems! Soon they'd be facing the other way, heading straight back to Mulberry Cove –

  He thought he could hear a voice shouting, carried on the wind.

  'No, Tommy! Take the tiller back. You'll gybe! Take it back!'

  A sailing boat was bearing down on him – a voice was calling –

  Suddenly, with a great crash, the world turned upside down. He was heeling over backwards, into the sea.

  'He's capsized!' screamed Elf.

  In her room at Mulberry Castle, Mrs Lottie Lazarus had woken at dawn. She felt horrible; as if she'd been drugged. She felt as though she'd been having bad dreams. She struggled into a sitting position and gradually her head cleared. The events of the previous evening came back to her.

  She got out of bed and washed her face in cold water at the hand basin, several times.

  She dried her face on a towel and decided to get dressed.

  'What a nonsense!' she thought. 'Letting myself go under like that. Who played that damnfool trick.? We've got two more days – and we've still got a patch to dig. If Nick thinks we're going home today, he's got another think coming.'

  As soon as she'd dressed, she walked across to her window, drew the curtains back and gazed out. High up in the castle here, she had a bird's eye view of the cove. She looked down at it, the sands newly-washed.

  'Oh, Cabro,' she murmured. 'How you must be laughing. You know where it is, don't you?'

  She lifted her head slightly and looked across to Mulberry Island, a silhouette against a sky streaked with purple and silver. It was a beautiful sunrise.

  Then she scanned the sea for a while. Her eyes widened.

  Two minutes later she was hammering feverishly at her son's bedroom door.

  He came to the door and found his mother standing there, a wild look about her.

  'Get the Range Rover out, Charles. We're going straight down to the cove.'

  He took her by the arm.

  'No, mother,' he said gently. 'You're not going down to the cove, ever again. Come on, I'm taking you back to bed.'

  She jerked her arm free.

  'Don't be so stupid, Charles,' she said. 'A boat's capsized. I think someone may be drowning.'

  Blackie had the advantage over Tommy. He could swim. Valiantly the dog struggled through the water and Rebecca helped him on board.

  Then he shook himself several times and barked in Tommy's direction.

  Rebecca was holding the boat steady, keeping it on an even keel. Elf was yelling at Tommy.

  'Grab it, Tommy! Just grab hold of it! We'll haul you in!' She had thrown him the lifebelt.

  But Tommy didn't seem to hear. He was stubbornly clinging on to the side of the upturned dinghy but the waves kept battering at him. He was swallowing salt water – mouthfuls of it.

  Then a huge wave washed over him, and he lost his grip.

  'He's going under!' cried Rebecca, in terror. 'Elf! Be careful!'

  Elf had jumped over the side, her life-jacket inflated. 'I'll get him!'

  Rebecca sat there, almost paralysed with fear. There was nothing she could do to help. Somebody had to keep the boat steady, or they'd all be drowned! Elf was a strong swimmer, but the waves seemed like mountains this morning. She'd got the lifeline tied round her waist, attached to the lifebelt as she swam.

  She grabbed Tommy as he bobbed up to the surface for the second time and got his legs through the lifebelt. Then she hooked his arms over either side, before his small frame could slide straight through it. She struggled back towards the dinghy, towing Tommy behind her.

  Once or twice a big wave obliterated her from view and Rebecca would cry: 'Elf? Elf?' But she made it. As she pulled herself back into the boat, the lifeline still tied round her waist, Rebecca was trembling. Together, at the third attempt, they managed to lift Tommy into the dinghy and the boat dipped down, terrifyingly. Then it straightened up.

  'Let's get him back to shore, quickly,' said Rebecca. Fighting down a feeling of panic, she brought the boat about skilfully in the tossing waters, just as she'd been taught.

  Then they were tacking back to the cove. Soon they were passing by the rock of the lion and were in sheltered waters again.

  For a while Tommy lay moaning in the bottom of the boat, while Elf pumped him and Blackie stood guard.

  Then the little boy started to be sick and they knew he was all right.

  'There's a white Range Rover coming down the beach,' said Elf. She was shivering now.

  'It's the Lazaruses!' exclaimed Rebecca.

  As they came into shore, people waded out and pulled the dinghy in the last few yards.

  Doctor Lazarus lifted Tommy out and carried him in his arms.

  Jake helped the two girls ashore and Mrs Lottie Lazarus came forward with warm blankets for them. They wrapped up in them, gratefully, their teeth chattering.

  Rebecca was relieved to see Mrs Lazarus, up and about so early, apparently fully recovered.

  'The – the coin,' she shivered. 'It – it was Tommy! T-Tommy put it there!'

  'Tommy?' It took a moment for the news to sink in. 'Oh, the little rogue!'

  Doctor Lazarus was attending to Tommy. He'd wrapped him up in a thick blanket and was sitting on a rock cradling him in his arms. The little boy looked up at him and smiled. 'All right Tommy?' he asked.

  'I bin a nuisance,' said Tommy. He closed his eyes. 'Ain't I?'

  When Mrs Lazarus came up beside them, her son was gazing down tenderly into the pale face of the little boy.

  'He's like Paul, isn't he, mother?' he said.

  'Of course he's not like Paul,' she snorted. 'Dear little Paul was always very correct!' Suddenly she smiled. She looked up the cove towards the excavations. 'He's altogether much more like Cabro – wretched Cabro!'

  Cabro.

  At the mention of that name, a shadow crossed the doctor's face, but his mother returned her gaze to Tommy. She was still smiling. 'It would be rather lovely to have a grandchild again, and I daresay you could keep him on the straight and narrow, Charles.'

  'What's the matter with Blackie?' asked Rebecca. 'He seems to be gnawing an imaginary bone.'

  'He buried the bone,' said Tommy.

  'He's been doing that gnawing business for ages,' laughed Elf. 'I expect he's got something stuck in his teeth again!'

  It was amazing how quickly they had recovered from their ordeal. The wind had dropped and the sun was coming up now, filling the cove with warmth. It was going to be a hot day. They sat on the rocks, wrapped in the blankets. Antonia Lazarus had appeared with flasks of hot soup for them. Jake had gone to the camp to see if Miss Peabody was up yet, although it was still very early. She might be anxious if she discovered that their tent was empty.

  After that he was going to get some men and a motor boat and organize the towing in of the capsized sailing dinghy. It was still bobbing around on the open sea.

  'Oh, do stop it, Blackie,' smiled Rebecca.

  He was still chewing and pawing at his mouth.

  'We need Tish,' said Elf. 'She knows how to get things out of his mouth.'

  'Here, let me try,' said Charles Lazarus. 'Come here, boy.'

  He took hold of the dog's jaws and prised them open, so the teeth were bared.

  He felt around and then got hold of something between finger and thumb and pulled.

  'It's wedged solid. Ah. Here it comes.'

  He held the small object up. It was round. It glittered like gold in the sun's rays.

  It was gold.

  They all stared.

  Lottie Lazarus held out her hand. She was trembling.

  'Charles. What is it? Let me see.'

  He was cradling it in the
palm of his hand, examining it closely. Then he handed it to his mother and she looked at it, too. Very closely. The silence amongst them all was electric. Rebecca could actually feel her heart beating.

  'Is it –?' she asked.

  But there was no need to ask. The look on Lottie's face provided the answer. Elation; jubilation; incredulous joy. It was a Roman coin of the third century AD. One of Cabro's hoard.

  Blackie barked and wagged his tail.

  'Where did you get it, boy?' gasped Antonia Lazarus.

  'Tell us, boy, tell us,!' pleaded Tommy.

  Blackie just barked unintelligibly.

  Suddenly Rebecca said:

  'What did you say about him burying the bone, Tommy? When? Where did he bury it?'

  'We brought it wiv us,' said Tommy, slowly. 'I wanted him to have it in our new house. But he buried it first. Before we got in the boat.'

  'Here, in the cove?' said Rebecca eagerly. The three Lazaruses exchanged looks.

  Everyone was on their feet.

  'Come on, Blackie!' shouted Tommy, leading the way up the beach. 'Come and show 'em!'

  The dog ran beside him. When Tommy got roughly to the spot, he said: 'Bone! Find yer bone!'

  Blackie sniffed around for a while. Everybody held their breath in suspense. Then he selected a spot and started to dig. He dug down until he found the bone, tugged it out and then ran off across the beach with it, holding it in his mouth.

  Lottie Lazarus sank down on her knees at the spot where the bone had been. She scrabbled in the sand with her bare hands.

  'The treasure!' gasped Tommy. She was bringing up coins, from a broken pot. They were dripping through her fingers.

  'Cabro!' she cried. 'You scoundrel. Now, at last, history can be rewritten!'

  It seemed to Rebecca for a moment that time stood still and the wily old Roman was here in the cove once more. Down on her knees, Mrs Lazarus began to laugh. She was in the lee of the cliffs, the early morning sun throwing a long pointed shadow beside her. She was laughing with joy.

  Suddenly from the nearby caves, the laughter came echoing back.

  The riddle was solved. The misappropriated funds of seventeen hundred years ago would now, no doubt, be dealt with correctly and worthily by appropriate people. The 'hero's prize' lay sleeping no longer. It had been found.

  But not inside the area that had been staked off.

  It was outside it, by a mere two metres.

  FOURTEEN

  GOING HOME

  After that, Charles and Antonia Lazarus wouldn't hear of Blackie being taken into police custody.

  They wanted to keep him.

  They also wanted to keep Tommy.

  Miss Peabody telephoned London and dealt with the official side of things and within twenty-four hours it was confirmed. Doctor and Mrs Lazarus would be allowed to take Tommy home with them, straight after camp, for a trial fostering period. If things worked out, the fostering arrangement would be permanent.

  Everybody was quite sure that things would work out. Because, for the first time in his life, Tommy wanted them to. He was planning to be good – well, reasonably good! – and besides he had Blackie to think about now. He wasn't going to mess things up for him and Blackie, not if he could help it.

  Rebecca and Elf had to recount the story to the other four, in much detail. Several times.

  Frustrated at missing such excitement, such high drama, they now contented themselves by reliving it at secondhand. 'To think us four were all fast asleep!' groaned Sue. At least they were allowed time off camp to go and watch the coins being brought out by experts, under the personal supervision of Sir Nicholas Klaus, who was now in a great state of euphoria.

  'Elf was really brave,' Rebecca told Tish and Sue. 'The sea was rough, I can tell you. I was scared.'

  'You did pretty well yourself then,' said Sue.

  But they all loved Elf more than ever now. Tommy worshipped her. When the Lazaruses treated them all to an enormous cream tea at the Dennizon Point Hotel, Tommy tried to give Elf his chocolate eclairs. But even Elf couldn't manage them.

  The camp ended with two very hot days and plenty of swimming in the sea. In the evenings Rebecca got back to some tennis. Miss Willis insisted upon it and played singles with her on the staff court. 'You've got your first tennis competition next week – Frinton, isn't it?'

  On the Saturday morning, camp ended. All the tents and equipment were packed up and loaded back on to the big lorry that had brought them down to Trebizon in the first place. By midday the site was cleared and the little copse behind Juniper House was back to normal, the only difference being a blackened patch in the clearing, where the camp fire had been.

  There were lots of goodbyes as the Trebizon volunteers parted company with the children who'd been in their charge for a whole fortnight. Some of the goodbyes were very tearful, with hugs and kisses and swapping of names and addresses and promises to write.

  After the children had gone, the six felt sad and ran over to Court House to take their minds off it.

  'Let's try and get in and see what rooms we want!' said Margot.

  'They're different upstairs, aren't they,' added Sue.

  'There are three twos, one four and two singles. We can't be in threes again,' contemplated Mara. She looked at Tish and smiled. 'Perhaps we should all have a change around in the Fourth Year?'

  Sue wasn't too sure how she felt about that. Margot and Elf just smiled at each other and shrugged.

  Tish rattled at the front door. But the Barringtons were still away on holiday and the entire building was locked. Their trunks had long since been removed and were waiting for them at Juniper House.

  'Looks as though we'll just have to wait and see next term,' said Rebecca. 'Wonder if Tish will be head of games next term?'

  'You still haven't decided your options, Rebeck!' said Tish, changing the subject.

  'How do you know?' smiled Rebecca. And then, as a yellow car scrunched into the forecourt of Court House, she let out a cry:

  'It's Mum and Dad! They're early!'

  'Rebecca!' exclaimed her father, as both her parents stepped out of the hired car. 'Miss Morgan thought you might be over here.'

  She fell into their arms.

  'It's been so long, hasn't it, Becky!' said Mrs Mason, rather tearful as she embraced her. 'You've grown! You've grown!'

  Too long, thought Rebecca. Much too long!

  They'd bought her a lovely birthday present. A tiny silver locket, engraved with her initials.

  When they all got back to Juniper House, the Lazaruses had come to say goodbye.

  The big white Range Rover was packed with their luggage. Lottie was sitting in the back, very erect, with Tommy and Blackie; Doctor Lazarus was sitting at the steering wheel, his wife beside him. While the adults all talked for a while the six gathered round the open back of the vehicle and hugged Tommy and patted Blackie.

  'Goodbye, Tommy. Goodbye, Blackie!' said Rebecca, feeling very emotional. She'd never forget them.

  'Woof!' said the dog. He had seen a butterfly.

  'Oh, Blackie, you've still got that old bone!' laughed Rebecca. 'Didn't it just bring us luck, Tommy! You thinking of buying him that bone!'

  'I think I'd like to preserve it in aspic!' said Lottie Lazarus. She leaned forward in her seat and took Rebecca's young hands in her old ones. 'Now, Rebecca, I'd like you to kiss me goodbye. I'm sure we shall meet again some time.'

  Rebecca kissed the weatherbeaten cheek and suddenly burst out, 'I've decided something! I couldn't decide what to do for GCSE, but now I know. I'm going to learn some Latin. I think that's going to be really interesting!'

  Mrs Lazarus merely expressed surprise. 'D'you mean to tell me that it isn't compulsory at Trebizon these days?' She sighed. 'Ah, well Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes. The years as they pass plunder us of one thing after another.'

  'Cabro wrote that?'

  'No, Rebecca! Horace.'

  When the Range Rover left, Rebecca and
her parents were right behind it in the yellow car. Her trunk and tennis rackets were in the boot. They bumped along the narrow winding track that meandered through the school grounds, right on the tail of the other vehicle. Tish, Sue, Elf, Mara and Margot pelted along behind for a little way, puffing and waving and shouting, "Bye, Rebeck; 'bye, see you next term!'

  At the main gates, the vehicles parted company. The Range Rover went to the left and the yellow car went to the right. Rebecca and Tommy waved and waved to each other until each was out of sight.

  Rebecca clasped her knees and stared out across the bay as her father whipped the car along the top road.

  The summer camp was over. She'd be back at Trebizon soon – they'd be going into the Fourth next term.

  But right now she was going home.

  And so was Tommy.

  THE TREBIZON SERIES IN READING ORDER

  The TREBIZON series

  A classic series which charts the progress and adventures of Rebecca Mason at Trebizon School in the West of England.

  First Term at Trebizon

  Second Term at Trebizon

  Summer Term at Trebizon

  Boy Trouble at Trebizon

  More Trouble at Trebizon

  Tennis Term at Trebizon

  Summer Camp at Trebizon

  Into the Fourth at Trebizon

  Hockey Term at Trebizon

  Fourth Year Triumphs at Trebizon

  Ghostly Term at Trebizon

  Fifth Year Friendships at Trebizon

  Secret Letters at Trebizon

  Unforgettable Fifth at Trebizon

  'Viva Trebizon! Like other giants of the genre, Anne Digby recreates the genuine flavour of schoolgirl aspirations and anguishes, friendships and rivalries. Her Trebizon stories span the so-called generation gap' – COLLECTORS' DIGEST

  MORE ANNE DIGBY TITLES

  A HORSE CALLED SEPTEMBER

  A moving story of the passionate friendship between two girls growing up together on an isolated Devon farm in the 1970s, the break-up of that friendship – and the horse that changed their lives forever. Anne Digby’s debut novel, now regarded as a modern classic.