Unforgettable Fifth at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  STRAW HAT

  First published by Straw Hat 1994

  This ebook edition first published by Straw Hat 2011

  Copyright © Anne Digby, 1994, 1996, 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, 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: 978-1-899587-31-5

  'It'll be midsummer by the time Emmanuelle comes to Trebizon!'

  Long summer days, the Commemoration Ball . . . picnics and sailing in Mulberry Cove. The end of the GCSE year looks set to be unforgettable as Rebecca plans her French pen friend's return visit. But in a term full of dramatic happenings, nothing could be stranger than the way Emmanuelle behaves. Could everything they have shared really be lost? Rebecca can't believe that, whatever Tish and the others might think . . .

  Even as this mystery is resolved, Rebecca comes to face up to her true feelings regarding Cliff and Robbie, learns the results of her GCSE exams at long last and can finally start to map out her future.

  The fourteenth and final Trebizon book brings the classic series to a memorable conclusion.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright & Permissions

  About this Book

  Chapter One The Biggest Challenge

  Chapter Two Shock at Mulberry Cove

  Chapter Three Suspense Continues

  Chapter Four Robbie's Result

  Chapter Five Old Trebizonians Get a Report

  Chapter Six A Mystery Recognized

  Chapter Seven ...More Mystery to Come

  Chapter Eight Emmanuelle's Lovely Day

  Chapter Nine Complications

  Chapter Ten Anne-Marie's Secret

  Chapter Eleven The Phantom of the Island

  Chapter Twelve Tish Comments on the French Exchange

  Chapter Thirteen An Unforgettable Year

  The Trebizon Series in Reading Order

  More Anne Digby Titles

  And Some Other Favourites...

  Free Downloads, Facebook & Twitter

  ONE

  THE BIGGEST CHALLENGE

  'But is there still time?' thought Rebecca Mason suddenly, as the boat was docking. 'Is there really?'

  It was an unwelcome thought, rudely interrupting other, more pleasurable ones.

  She'd been in a contented dream, standing up on deck in the darkness as the ship sailed into port. The lights of Plymouth. The Devon hills somewhere beyond. The prospect of their coach waiting and the warm, sleepy journey back to boarding school with her friends - Tish, Sue, Mara, Margot and Elf; and all the rest of them from Five Alpha who'd been on the French Exchange.

  And stretching ahead of them, the summer term. Some tennis, maybe: it was great playing on grass. The sea. No longer wintry grey but blue and sparkling. Surfing and swimming in the bay. The wild flowers out on the headland. Trebizon at its most beautiful. Summer term in the Fifth...

  A summer term all set to reach a glorious conclusion with the return visit of the French girls at the end of June. Exams would be over. They'd be arriving on the last Saturday - Commemoration Day. Founder's service in the morning; tennis cup in the afternoon; Commem Ball in the evening. Followed by a full week of pleasurable activities at Trebizon before they broke up for the summer holidays and each girl took her pen friend home.

  Emmanuelle would be coming to Trebizon!

  After the three vivid weeks just spent in Paris together, Rebecca was already starting to make plans for the end of June. Never too early to start planning, was it? She'd need to make sure that Emmanuelle's time in England was every bit as memorable as her own had been in France. She'd get a programme worked out, think about the details. She'd begin planning right now. Starting with the Commem Ball...

  Giving Emmanuelle a lovely time, that was the challenge. That was what Rebecca had been daydreaming about.

  Then, from nowhere, that sudden irritating little question had surfaced.

  'Will I even get into the Sixth Form now?' she'd asked Miss Welbeck last term, just before the mocks started. 'I mean, don't you have to have good grades?'

  'There's still time, Rebecca,' had replied the school's principal.

  But was there? After the results of her mocks, Rebecca couldn't be quite sure. Hopeful, but not sure. Certainly not as far as her favourite subject history was concerned. And if she couldn't do that, what was the point?

  And now the GCSE term was almost upon her. Already started, in fact. They'd missed the first three days because of the French Exchange. This was it. The real exams were coming up now. This very term.

  As the hawsers tightened and clamped the ship to shore, it was something that had to be faced. Before Emmanuelle's visit, she had a lot of work to do and a lot of exams to pass.

  'We're here, Rebeck!' yelled Tish Anderson in delight, coming along the deck. 'Get your luggage, dopey!'

  The weight of Rebecca's suitcase as she manoeuvred it ashore was another conscience-pricker. She'd packed a whole array of school books including a couple of important history books and not one of them had she opened in Paris. Right now they were making her suitcase weigh a ton all for nothing!

  'What DO you have in there, Becky?' asked Sue Murdoch, as Rebecca staggered up to join the throng by the coach. The baggage compartment was open and everything piling in.

  'Brought the Arc de Triomphe back with you?' asked Tish, laughing.

  'The Eiffel Tower, if you must know,' retorted Rebecca.

  Oh! Not even to have looked at her history!

  'It's her books,' explained Mara Leonodis, who'd seen her pack them before they left.

  'Wish I'd taken my violin,' said Sue. 'I nearly did but they said I'd be able to borrow one at the lycée. It was really duff.'

  'I wish I'd taken some books,' sighed Mara. The Greek girl gazed at Rebecca. 'We have missed three whole days of lessons and I will never catch up. Clever Rebecca, to have such willpower!'

  'That's the joke of the year, Mara. I didn't even look at them.'

  Quick to notice her anxious expression, Sally Elphinstone suddenly announced: 'Your French accent's really good now, Rebecca! And orals are the first exam by miles. One thing at a time! Bet you get an A for French Oral!'

  It wasn't just Elf trying to give her a boost. There were general murmurs of agreement.

  'Bet you do get an A, Rebecca,' said Margot Lawrence. 'I thought it was one of the French girls asking a question in class at the lycée. I looked round and it was you! You must have been speaking French all the time, to get so good.'

  'She was,' Jenny Brook-Hayes informed them. Because her pen friend Anne-Marie was Emmanuelle's best friend, they'd gone around in a foursome. 'She and Emmanuelle were gabbing to each other non-stop by the end!'

  As the coach driver took charge of her suitcase and loaded it in, Rebecca felt a lightening of mood. She got on board, found a window seat and settled down to think.

  Yes, she'd been speaking French solidly for the past three weeks. A lot of them hadn't bothered! Emmanuelle had been the best tutor imaginable, never getting snappy or impatient with her, giving her confidence. And it was the first exam - only three weeks away. No wonder she hadn't had time to read all the stuff in her suitcase! Elf was right; one thing at a time. And anyway there was still time to get a good GCSE history grade. She'd worked hard since the mocks and now she'd work even harder. She needed an A or B grade in hi
story to be allowed to take it in the Sixth! Miss Maggs had been encouraging about her chances, even though she'd only managed a D in the mocks.

  She just had more catching up to do. Previously, too much effort had gone into trying to make it to the top in tennis. Miss Welbeck had helped her to see that this wasn't the best thing at present. And Rebecca's mind was made up. It was school success she was working for now.

  Robbie Anderson, Tish's brother, simply hadn't a clue how she felt. 'Don't know why you didn't just grab that tennis contract and run!' he'd told her last term, when she was having trouble with her mocks. It was so undermining. She hated him for that remark. It had made her wonder if Robbie had ever really liked her for herself, or had simply been in love with the idea of a girl friend who was maybe going to be a famous tennis star one day!

  Cliff Haynes was far more understanding. He was so down-to-earth and easy to be with, not like Robbie these days. Such a relief; such a contrast. You couldn't help loving Cliff!

  But how had Robbie got on at the RAF selection board these holidays? Had he passed? That might make all the difference, turn him back into a reasonable human being again!

  She watched the bright lights of the ferry boat in the harbour recede into the distance. As the coach thrummed along, she began to indulge those pleasurable thoughts again...

  The Commem Ball. The biggest challenge would be finding just the right partner for her French pen friend. In spite of being so pretty, Emmanuelle badly needed a confidence boost as far as boys were concerned. It was strange that; but Rebecca knew it to be true.

  'I've got to find her someone really nice,' thought Rebecca.

  She sighed. Robbie had always been her partner at Commem and if she'd been asking him again this year, he could have brought a friend in the Upper Sixth at Garth College who'd have been perfect. Ben Hartwell wasn't attached to anybody and Rebecca just knew that Emmanuelle and Ben would have got on like a house on fire! Wouldn't that have been a nice start to Emmanuelle's visit?

  Rebecca's thoughts hastily turned to Cliff. She wondered if he could bring anyone who'd be okay. The trouble was he'd only been at Caxton High two terms, his family having moved to the west country from London. He seemed to be in with the soccer crowd but she couldn't pinpoint anyone special.

  'What you thinking about, Rebeck?' asked Tish, in the next seat, giving her a nudge. 'You look as though you're planning something!'

  'I am.'

  'Oh! What?'

  'I'm planning for when they come back.'

  'When who comes back?'

  'The French girls, of course,' replied Rebecca. 'When they come to Trebizon.'

  'Oh. That all?' Tish rubbed her eyes. It had, she decided, been an horrifically long day. They seemed to have been travelling since breakfast time. Breakfast! Tea with a piece of lemon in it and a small roll, that was all Sandrine's mother had given her! 'Who cares?' She yawned. 'That's months away yet.'

  'Go to sleep, Tish. You're tired.'

  Tish grinned sleepily.

  'Did you really take a stack of books to France?'

  'Yes.' Rebecca laughed. 'Wasn't it silly of me.'

  'I could have done with something to read,' grumbled Tish. 'Sandrine wasn't much fun, was she?'

  And to make further amends to Rebecca for being downbeat about the French Exchange, she added: 'Not like Emmanuelle!'

  She liked Emmanuelle, from what she'd seen of her. They all did. In time they might be sorely tempted to revise their opinion but that was something for the future.

  After an hour's refreshing sleep, Tish decided to enter into the spirit of things properly.

  They were almost back. They'd climbed slowly from Trebizon town and were now cruising along the top road, above Trebizon bay. Rebecca, who'd herself been dozing, opened her eyes in time to see moonlight gleaming on the sweeping sands, its reflection catching the top of the breaking waves so that they became shimmering little lines of light. Then she caught a brief glimpse of Mulberry Island, beyond the headland, with its trees and its derelict cottage, standing like a tiny fortress in the middle of the silver sea.

  It was a beautiful sight and made her think, with sudden happiness, that it was lovely to be back in England. And that having been abroad she was seeing it all afresh, as though for the first time. Weren't they lucky that their school stood on such a beautiful piece of coastline!

  'Hey,' said Tish suddenly, feeling the same way, 'let's organize a picnic for the Frenchies. The first weekend. We can fix it for the Sunday, the day after the ball! The weather's bound to be warm. We can take them down to Mulberry Cove. They'll love it down there - '

  'That's a good idea, Tish!'

  ' - and we'll take them to Mulberry Island! We'll get Miss Welbeck's permission and get a proper boat hired and maybe finish up with a barbecue on the island. On the Sunday evening!'

  'Brilliant!' exclaimed Rebecca. Hurray! This was a good start. The programme for Emmanuelle's first two days was already falling into place...

  'We'll get them some boys for the ball and we can invite them on the Sunday as well!' Tish was saying.

  ...well, almost falling into place, decided Rebecca. But not quite.

  Sitting on the other side of Tish, Mara was suddenly wide awake and clapping her hands with enthusiasm.

  'That is the most beautiful idea, Tish! Christelle will adore to go to the cove and the island! She is so romantic. Curly and I will take her to the ball and Curly will bring someone to make up the foursome and then we shall do this on the Sunday!'

  By the time the coach dropped them outside their boarding house, all six of them were talking about it and wondering which boys to invite.

  'Less noise PLEASE!' scolded their French teacher, as they disembarked.

  'Upstairs in silence and unpack as quickly as you can,' whispered Mrs Barrington, who was waiting for them at the front of Court House. 'Remember that other people are asleep. Had a good time?' added their housemistress.

  'Lovely, Mrs Barry!'

  It was very late before they were ready for bed but that didn't stop Tish suggesting one of their early morning runs, over to Mulberry Cove. Nor did it stop Rebecca agreeing.

  There was something she wanted to talk about. Not on her own account. Certainly not.

  But perhaps for Emmanuelle's sake.

  It would be worth getting up early for that alone.

  TWO

  SHOCK AT MULBERRY COVE

  It was worth it in any case. It was lovely racing across the bay and round into Mulberry Cove of an early morning. Always the same routine. Out via the wicket gate at the back of Juniper, careful not to wake the juniors. A quick scramble over the dunes then a mad dash across the sands to the water's edge. At low tide, jogging round the end of the headland by way of the shore and into Mulberry Cove. At high tide, a steep climb up to the top of the headland along narrow tracks almost hidden by vegetation, then a scramble down the other side, into the secretiveness of the sheltered cove.

  Rebecca enjoyed these runs, in all seasons.

  On winter mornings, the dawn would just be breaking through the darkness over the sea. Today, in late spring, the sun was well up, the sea already a sparkling blue.

  'And it'll be midsummer by the time Emmanuelle comes to Trebizon!' she thought, as she surged ahead of Tish, towards the shore, her trainers making the first tracks of the day on the newly-washed sands. 'If we have a barbecue on the island, it'll be light till bedtime!'

  She and Tish and Sue had been going on these jogs to Mulberry Cove for as long as Rebecca could remember, though Sue had gone for violin practice this morning. Tish was the most dedicated. Not the other three, of course. Lazy lot! It would do Elf good, instead of talking about dieting all the time! thought Rebecca.

  Tish caught up with her at the water's edge, puffing slightly.

  'Isn't it glorious?' exclaimed Rebecca, raising her arms. 'All this vastness and emptiness and it all belongs to us. Or at least it feels as if it does!'

  'Us and Jock!'
laughed Tish, referring to the man who owned the Mulberry Cove Sailing School. He was usually the only person they saw. 'Bet he's round there already - working on his boats.'

  'Yes, he's always up and about!' replied Rebecca. He'd be getting the boats ready for the summer season. How was the tide? She squinted along the shoreline. The water hadn't yet come up to the end of the headland. 'Tide's coming in. Let's get round there. Ready?'

  Tish was staring out to sea, taking a few deep breaths.

  'In a minute, Rebeck. Trying to break the world sprint record, were you?'

  'You're out of condition, Tish!'

  'All that sitting around. Sandrine's mother took us everywhere by car. Sandrine insisted.'

  'You'll soon get back into running once we've done GCSEs!' Rebecca consoled her.

  'Sooner the better!' Tish looked pleased at the thought. 'Some races again. Competition.' She was a distance runner and a good one.

  Competition! Rebecca sighed, thinking of her tennis. She could do with some, too. This time last year she'd just been playing at Edgbaston. Then had worked all summer term to qualify for Eastbourne. But at least she could enter for the school tennis cup. Miss Welbeck wouldn't mind that, surely? The Darling Cup was new this year, the trophy having been donated by Greta Darling ('the Dread'), Trebizon's tennis coach. It would be good to have a crack at it.

  'Let's go,' said Tish. 'Just a nice steady jog, okay?'

  'Suits me, Tish.'

  They slip-slapped along the foreshore, side by side, making for the end of the headland. It would be good to see the cove again and Jock painting the boats, perhaps.

  'Wonder if we'll get any sailing this term?' mused Tish.

  'Shouldn't think so.' Rebecca liked sailing in the cove. 'At least, not till after exams.'

  'Something else to amuse the Frenchies, then?' suggested Tish.

  'Why, yes!'

  Rebecca felt pleased. The timetable for Emmanuelle's week at Trebizon was getting better and better...

  'Can't see it appealing to Sandrine,' Tish was saying.

  Getting better and better, except...