by Anne Digby
They'd told Miss Welbeck, Holly said, that Mr Tarkus definitely was interested in buying the land.
'He said, given time and given planning permission, he could turn it into a wonderful tourist attraction, to bring lots of money to the town - '
'Not to mention his pockets!' interrupted Margot.
'Ssh!' said Elf.
' - but it was going to need tons of money spent on it and it was absolute rubbish as it stood, not even good for agriculture or anything.'
The six friends digested this news.
'Did he put a figure on it, by any chance?' asked Tish with interest.
'Yes, he said what his top offer was!' replied Holly, brimming over with importance. 'And the agent said he should submit it in writing because it would definitely be considered.'
'Goodness, you did hear a lot,' said Elf, in admiration.
'We were hiding in one of the caves, weren't we Harri?'
'Yes, but then they saw us.'
'And you told Miss Welbeck all this?' enquired Rebecca, thoughtfully.
'Yes. She was pumping us. D'you know what we think, Rebecca? We think the school must be planning to buy the land! Wouldn't that be just great?'
Rebecca and Co had already reached the same conclusion.
'It would be fantastic!' agreed Mara.
'But what was the figure Tarkus put on it?' asked Tish, edgily.
'Fifty!' said Holly.
'Fifty?' asked Rebecca, puzzled. 'Fifty what?'
'50 K I should imagine,' muttered Tish. 'Fifty thousand.'
'Yes,' nodded Harriet. 'That's what Miss Welbeck thought. She didn't seem that worried. Well, just a little bit.'
'I bet!' commented Elf afterwards, when the younger girls had gone. The amount of money needed to buy the land had brought them all down to earth with a bump.
Except for Mara.
'You see, Rebecca?' she said later, looking very determined. 'Miss Welbeck thinks exactly the same way as I. It is so obvious that Trebizon must buy the land, to protect the school. Oh, isn't it good that we are going to see her on Friday, to talk about it. We shall talk about our fund-raising ideas!'
Rebecca glanced at Mara and smiled. It was fairly obvious what Mara's fund-raising idea was. Her father, the Greek shipowner, was fabulously wealthy. Lucky her! But even Mr Leonodis, Rebecca decided, had his limits.
It wasn't a matter of life and death, not like those operations for refugee children that he'd been funding lately.
All the same, Mara's optimism was infectious.
How Holly and Harriet had got on with Miss Welbeck had turned out to be extremely interesting. They'd been grilled.
The school wanted to buy the land, that was obvious. It seemed that Miss Welbeck and presumably the school governors were giving it serious thought. Now, finding out about Mr Tarkus's interest would surely galvanize them still further?
There was hope.
'Mmm, yes, Becky. Justy and I had a good long chat,' yawned Sue sleepily, propped up against the pillows, reading.
Rebecca, in pyjamas, had popped her head into the cubicle. It was bedtime. She was feeling sleepy, too. She'd had a busy evening.
First, she'd rung her grandmother to say she was safely back from France. Then done a heap of history revision. After that she'd written to her parents, followed by a quick note to Cliff to tell him she was back. It would be lovely to see Cliff again! They'd probably meet on Sunday.
She should have written to Emmanuelle but she was too tired and besides the time was not yet ripe. But sleepy or not, there was one last thing...
She knew that Sue had taken a long call from Justin tonight. She'd heard Alice Burridge come up from the ground floor to fetch her to the phone.
She'd hoped that Sue might come back with exciting news about Robbie. She'd probably tell Tish first. Then the pair of them would come bursting into her cubicle and tell her.
But it hadn't happened.
Rebecca nevertheless wanted to make quite sure.
'Any gossip?' she asked casually. 'How are the rest of them at Garth? Suicidal about their A-levels?'
'I expect so,' laughed Sue. She looked up from her book. 'We talked about France mainly and what Holly's been up to, et cetera. Oh, yes! And Commem Ball. Justin's going to organize a partner for Ariane. So that'll save me a job.'
'What about David or Edward?' enquired Rebecca, referring to Sue's brothers at Garth, and anxious that it shouldn't be Ben.
'Tish has bagged them both. For her and Sandrine. They're all welcome to each other!' laughed Sue. 'How about you, Rebecca? Will Cliff scrape someone up for Emmanuelle?'
'Everything under control!' said Rebecca quickly.
Fibber.
She crossed the aisle, entered her cubicle and got into bed. It seemed she'd just have to be patient. She'd have to wait till Tish had seen Robbie, on Saturday. The suspense continued.
But if he had had good news, surely he'd have told his good friend Justy?
FOUR
ROBBIE'S RESULT
'How good of you to come and see me,' said Miss Welbeck. Mrs Devenshire had brought in extra chairs and tea and biscuits for them, then left. It was after school, on the Friday afternoon. 'I must say, I'm very impressed.'
The six friends were sitting around her wood panelled study, a large, sunny room at the front of Trebizon's main building (once a grand manor house). The windows overlooked rolling parkland, dotted with oak trees, a view that had changed little over the centuries. The sunlight was catching Miss Welbeck's fair, upswept hair as she sat behind her desk, facing them, generally adding to her aura of cheerfulness.
'You - you don't think it's hopeless, then?' asked Rebecca, shyly.
She'd expected the strained expression - so apparent in assembly the other morning - to return to Miss Welbeck's face, once they'd explained the reason for their visit. But it hadn't. The principal's mood seemed quite different today.
'Hopeless? Far from it.' She looked around at their anxious faces and smiled. 'We're not going to give in without a fight, are we?'
'We thought it'd be a good idea if the school could have a Special Appeal!' explained Tish, plunging in. 'We could look up grant bodies and charitable trusts and things like that, in the reference library in the town! Then we could help address envelopes or...anything...like that.....'
Tish, of all people, was becoming tongue-tied, her voice starting to fade away. The principal was looking amused.
'No need, Ishbel.' Very amused. 'Those trusts have hundreds of deserving people writing to them every year, I'm afraid. It would take many months to get a decision out of them and the situation is too urgent. Besides, it would be an enormous distraction. This is your GCSE term!'
She gazed round at them again, her eyes lingering for a moment on Mara and then Rebecca.
'Have you any idea how much I want success for you all? I expect to see you all in the Lower Sixth next year - and with exam grades good enough to enable you to follow your chosen A-level courses. That's very important.'
'But this is important, too!' said Elf boldly. She was never much troubled by passing exams. 'It'd be awful if - '.
'If it all fell into unsympathetic hands? Yes, it would be quite devastating,' agreed the principal. 'If something hideous were to happen to land right here on our doorstep...?' She closed her eyes briefly. 'And then there's the island. It's always been so lovely, just being there. Such a pleasing sight!' She opened them again. 'But because of its ruined cottage it would be difficult to stop anyone building there had they a mind to do so.'
'Some big posh house or something!' said Rebecca, with feeling. She loved Mulberry Island, small and mysterious. She'd always wanted to explore it properly. Above all, like Miss Welbeck, she just loved the idea of its simply being there.
Mara had been bursting to speak.
'Please, Miss Welbeck, can we not at least write letters to...'
'Sssh, Mara. I want to think for a moment.'
The principal was resting her fingert
ips against her cheeks, surveying them thoughtfully. It was as though she were trying to decide whether to tell them something. She dropped a hand and there came the sound of a drawer in her desk opening. She took out a bundle of letters and held them aloft.
'It's all in hand,' she said simply. 'And the first replies have been coming in.' The six friends looked at the bundle of letters in surprise, followed by excitement and relief.
'We're trying to keep this matter as low-key as we possibly can, for the moment,' explained Miss Welbeck. 'Some of you will find out soon enough from your mothers. You will, Sue. Or from your older sisters, as you will, Ishbel.'
Mrs Murdoch. Helen Anderson. Both of them ex-pupils, Rebecca realized. Old Trebizonians!
Margot put a hand to her mouth. 'Oh! We've made fools of ourselves!'
'We're sorry, Miss Welbeck,' said Tish with that big grin of hers. 'Didn't think.'
'We have been very presumptuous,' agreed Mara, solemnly.
'Not at all!' replied Miss Welbeck. 'I'm delighted that you wanted to come and see me. It shows initiative. But, even if the Appeal letter from the school governors hadn't gone out to all Old Trebizonians last weekend, I would never have agreed to your becoming involved. As I say, you've other things to think about this term.'
She replaced the letters carefully in the drawer.
'We had no success with the National Trust,' she explained. 'It owns the castle, as you probably know. But its resources are far too stretched at the moment. Our friends, the Willoughbys, their tenants there, are as alarmed as we are. But the NT has other calls on its funds. As do we. The new science labs are at the top of our shopping list, I'm afraid. An urgent Appeal letter to all Old Girls of the school was our only hope!'
'And - ?' asked Sue, thinking how little money her own mother had to spare.
Miss Welbeck smiled as she replied.
'It's been a nerve-wracking few days, it really has - such a lot of money to raise in such a short time. And I know how busy with their careers and their families Old Trebizonians tend to be. So many calls on their resources! But today's post, at last, contained some very pleasant surprises. One or two particularly generous pledges. We now have every reason to be hopeful.'
As the principal rose to show them out, Rebecca and Co looked at each other in delight. The school was going to buy the land! Miss Welbeck and the school governors had everything under control!
'Please don't talk about it at this stage, girls,' she warned them, as they left. 'Remember, we have a long way to go yet. We mustn't raise everyone's hopes unduly. We can't yet be certain.'
'We won't!' promised Margot.
'Thank you for telling us about it, Miss Welbeck,' said Mara.
It made them all feel very grown-up and sensible to have been put fully in the picture. They'd keep quiet, all right. If the school were to be in a 'bidding' situation, then its interest should be underplayed, not noised around. But amongst themselves they were exuberant. The school had already received some generous pledges. And the appeal letters had gone out only a week ago. There'd be lots more to come, surely!
'Oh, isn't it good, Tish,' said Rebecca. 'I'm really glad you suggested we go and see her.'
'Yes, it does set the mind at rest, doesn't it?' grinned Tish.
Later, at the boarding house, Mara showed Rebecca a letter with an airmail sticker on it.
'Now I shall go and buy a stamp and post my letter to Christelle!' she said happily. 'I can leave the letter just as it was, with all the news of our plans for Commemoration weekend. There is no need to tear it up and start again!'
Rebecca smiled. Mara looked so happy that she couldn't be bothered to tell her how long it took to buy property in England. Besides, one never knew, it might just go through in time.
'Are you going to write to Emmanuelle, Rebecca?'
'Soon, Mara. Maybe tomorrow night.'
By then she might know who their partners at Commem were likely to be.
'You've been quick!' said Rebecca, in surprise, when Tish looked into her cubie the following afternoon. She hadn't even finished the practice essay on Pride and Prejudice that she'd started before Tish had left for Garth College to see Robbie. 'Any news?'
'Yes. Wish I hadn't bothered,' replied Tish. 'Rejected.'
Rebecca drew in a quick breath.
'Why?' she asked, staring down hard at her essay. 'Why didn't they want him?'
'Couldn't get much out of him. Foul temper! Been asked to try again next year. You're allowed two chances and that's it. But he can't see the point. Says he's seen his marks and they were great and all the comments were great and he almost burst a blood vessel anyway and he'd never, ever be able to do any better!'
'But if they're asking him to try again - '
'Says there's no point. They can only take a tiny number. Didn't like him enough this year, so why should they next? I agree with that in a way. There'll be a whole lot of new people competing next year.'
'Oh, poor Robbie - ' began Rebecca.
Tish glanced round as she heard Sue coming back from violin practice.
'Better keep quiet about this, Rebeck,' she whispered. 'He'll kill me if Justy or any of the others find out. I'm going down to the track. Know something?' - Admitting her feelings for the very first time - 'I thought it was great once, you and Robbie going round together! But he's hopeless lately. And much as I regret your going off with Cliff - '
'It wasn't quite like that, Tish - '
' - you were dead right!'
Rebecca didn't know what she was.
She only knew that, once alone again, it was hopeless trying to finish her essay. She needed some fresh air. She'd go and find her bicycle.
And now she didn't really know where she was going, either.
Only that she'd left the school grounds behind and was racing along the top road, wheels whirring, the breeze from the sea whipping her hair, stinging her cheeks. Then, turning off to the right, around the back of the town... Pedalling mechanically... Racing, racing along...
Like her thoughts.
No hope of sorting out Commem with Robbie this weekend then.
No hope of asking him if he'd like to come and bring Ben along, too. It would have been so nice for Emmanuelle!
No hope of that now.
But it wasn't just that.
Robbie rejected. First Oxford. Now this.
Where was she going? She could see the main gates of Garth College ahead. They were wide open.
Not like Robbie enough...not like him?
She wanted to see him and put her arms around him and tell him to try again...
She must see him!
She didn't have to pedal any more. The bike was just taking her there. It glided silently in through the gates and down the deserted school drive, on auto-pilot.
Syon House coming up, high beech hedge at the back, tennis court.
Voices on the tennis court.
Hiding her machine in the shrubbery, like a thief in the night. Tip-toeing over to the beech hedge. Peering through the glossy young leaves...
He was standing up at the tennis net, talking to Edward. Back view.
Tall, strong. That disgustingly old striped rugby shirt over tennis shorts. Huge hole in the elbow! Shoulders broader than she remembered. Calf muscles bulging over mismatched socks, one blue, one green. Generally more muscular than remembered. RAF physical fitness tests? Weight training for them? But otherwise, the same black curly hair, the same old rugby shirt... The same.
He turned round. 'Okay, Ed, I'll take it again,' he said.
He came striding up the court, totally enwrapped, using his racket to bounce the ball along ahead of him as he walked. He looked fine, as far as Rebecca could see.
What on earth am I doing HERE? she thought, in sudden horror.
Goose pimples were breaking out all over her as she crept back to the shrubbery and found her bike. She had to get out of here. Quickly!
Nobody must see her! Certainly not Robbie!
> Whatever had she been dreaming about?
How could she have said anything to him about the RAF?
She wasn't supposed to know.
He'd kept it a secret since last half-term. Not once had it occurred to him to take her into his confidence. Not for a moment. He hadn't been in touch with her for weeks. She wasn't important to him any more.
Of course, he really had been working hard last term. She was pleased that bit was true. He really did have a 'brilliant plan' and had been preparing obsessively for those gruelling selection tests. Weight-training, too, by the look of him.
But did that really explain anything?
As she scooted silently off down the drive, she heard the aggressive thwack of racket on ball. Robbie, more than anyone, had taught her how to hit a big serve. He'd been so patient in the early days, teaching her the right swing. Very involved. Very upset when she broke her wrist last year. Definitely put out this year - to discover her no longer putting tennis above all else.
It had made him lose interest.
The same? Not the same at all. It was all over.
She returned to school.
Cliff rang the same evening, in response to her note. They caught up on all the news - France, their GCSEs, general gossip. Rebecca told him what the Tarkuses were up to but not that the school was planning to buy the land, much as she wanted to. She also demonstrated her newly-acquired French accent. Then told him about the Commem Ball and how they'd have to find a partner for Emmanuelle.
'Tall, short, fat, thin?' enquired Cliff.
'Somebody really joli, Cliff, who doesn't talk about soccer all the time!'
'I'll think.'
'Where shall we meet tomorrow?' asked Rebecca, before ringing off. Elizabeth Kendall was hovering around impatiently, expecting a phone call!
'I've thought of somebody already!' said Cliff, unexpectedly. 'I think we'll have to go and listen to the town band.'
'What for?'
'So you can have a squint at him first. Ginge. He plays in the town band. Good friend of mine.'
When they met in the Jubilee Gardens on Sunday, Cliff gave her a warm hug. 'Love yer!' they said to each other. Sure enough the Trebizon town band was playing. Over there, on the circular bandstand with its pretty wrought ironwork and leaded roof.
