Unforgettable Fifth at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  'They'll be finished in a minute!' said Cliff, taking Rebecca's hand. 'He's the one with ginger hair.'

  'What, the one on drums?' asked Rebecca, in dismay, staring towards a plump red-headed youth with a sullen expression and piggy eyes.

  'No, that's Matthew Tarkus!' laughed Cliff. 'Ginge is on trombone.'

  'Oh, that's better!' said Rebecca, in relief. 'He looks okay.'

  'Yes, better looking than me, Rebecca!' Cliff made a comical bucktooth face which together with his sticking up spiky brown hair made him look like a rabbit. 'You might even fall for him yourself.'

  Rebecca laughed. They were walking towards the bandstand across the grass that was new-mown and smelt sweet. The flower beds were already a blaze of colour, tulips of yellow and dark cherry red, intermingled with white double-daisies. She squeezed Cliff's hand.

  'Better looking than you? Impossible.'

  It made her feel very peaceful, being with Cliff.

  FIVE

  OLD TREBIZONIANS GET A REPORT

  We've known each other since we were about five or six years old, or have I already told you that? Rebecca wrote to Emmanuelle. It was in the course of the following week. The time was now ripe. When we were little, we used to sit next to each other in class sometimes. His family lived in the next street. We were especially thick in the top juniors. Cliff, myself and my two London friends, Claire and Amanda. (You'll meet those two when you come back to London with me at the end of term -they're really nice). Then we all moved up to the senior school together. I was only there the one year because Mum and Dad went to Saudi and sent me here. Then, last year, Cliff's family moved down here because of Mr Haynes' work situation! Isn't that amazing? Fate...?

  It was an outpouring. One of Rebecca's longer letters. How great it was to have a sister-across-the-sea, someone kindred, yet out of day-to-day contact, making it easier to bare the innermost feelings of the moment.

  ...I did toy with the idea of asking Robbie to Commem. He has quite a nice friend called Ben I wanted you to meet. It was a silly idea. You see. it's all over. My feelings about Robbie, his about me. And I love Cliff more and more. He's not the jealous type but even so he might have been hurt if I'd asked someone else. I can't be sure but I'm not going to risk it! Remember how you said you envied me, having two boyfriends to choose from? Well, don't because I haven't. There's only Cliff. I love him very much!

  It gave Rebecca a warm glow to write those last two sentences. She stared at them. They looked particularly momentous in French. For emphasis she underlined them and drew a tiny heart alongside. Then, looking up some more words in her French dictionary, she continued:

  I was wrong about something. too. I thought Cliff's friends looked rather boring, the boys at his school, that is. But Ginge is quite different. They only met at Easter; they were on some sponsored walk together. You'd think they'd been friends for life. His real name is Angus. The Ginge is because he has red hair (also very good looking!). Loads of fun. like Cliff. A bit older than us and has his OWN CAR! It was wonderful having Jacques' car in Paris, wasn't it? It looks as though I've found us another one! He's also very musical. I'll finish this letter tomorrow and tell you more then.

  Rebecca took two or three days over the letter, updating it as she went. She wanted Emmanuelle to have as full a picture as possible of the programme that awaited her when she arrived at Trebizon. She wanted her to have lots of time to look forward to it.

  Needless to say, both Cliff and Ginge are coming to Commem, in case you were wondering. And on the Sunday a crowd of us are getting up a picnic somewhere and a barbecue in the evening. Not sure where yet. And they're coming to that, as well. Exams will be over and there'll be no proper lessons. It's going to be a fabulous week! There's a lovely old castle near the school and the Willoughbys are going to show us round. And there'll be swimming and surfing. Wait till you see Margot on a surf board (the tall, black girl). Oh, Emmanuelle, I'm longing for you to get to know all my friends properly. It was difficult in Paris we were so scattered.

  By the way, I've put my name down for the school tennis tournament. My teachers have said okay about that. We've never had one before. If I get to the final you'll see me play. It's your first afternoon - Commem day. Same day as the ball. You did say you enjoyed watching tennis?

  To return to Ginge. He's a brilliant trombonist and he's got through to the semi-finals of the Wessex Young Musician of the Year competition. Just like Sue! (The one with glasses). They're at half-term and guess what. He says that if Sue gets through to the Finals, he'll drive us to Exonford to watch her, whether or not he gets through himself! (Though I've a feeling he will). And that's going to be during the week you're at Trebizon. Cliff will have finished exams like us, so he'll come, too.

  Oh, yes. And Cliff's getting us tickets for his school's summer disco. That'll be the Friday. Our last night in the west country. My parents come and collect us on the Saturday. My house in London will be quite dull after Trebizon. Hope you like the programme so far!

  'Rebecca, are you coming or are you not?' asked Mara, looking into the cubicle, Tish beside her. They were all supposed to be going down to watch the Shakespeare video tonight.

  'Writing a blockbuster?' asked Tish.

  'Just coming!'

  I've written an extra long letter, so you'd better make the most of it Emmanuelle. There aren't going to be enough hours in the day from now on. See you! Love, Rebecca.

  Rebecca sealed up the letter carefully, knowing that she'd indulged herself. Her letters to Emmanuelle did wonders for her French vocabulary but that was the least of her problems at present, unlike the history test this Friday, the maths test on Monday... She wouldn't be able to write at such length again!

  But as she followed the others downstairs to the common room, she felt contented.

  She was going to see to it that Emmanuelle had a lovely time at Trebizon. It would be so good when the others got to know her better. And Cliff had turned up trumps, producing Ginge!

  It would be the loveliest time of the year, midsummer. How she'd longed to tell Emmanuelle about Mulberry Cove and their mysterious, romantic little island where they hoped to hold the barbecue.

  She'd been sorely tempted to do so but had resisted the temptation. When, a fortnight later, she received a letter back from Emmanuelle, she was again sorely tempted.

  ...it all sounds very wonderful, dear Rebecca. I am so impatient to come to Trebizon. I shall bring my swimming things. Will it be hot? I am wishing the time to go by very, very fast. By the way, I have decided I do not like French boys and I am very happy to meet some English boys instead! I am sure that I will like Ginge very much. Anne-Marie is writing to Jenny to ask about a partner for the ball. I am so happy that you and Cliff love each other. It is so romantic. Have you made the plan now where the picnic and the barbecue will take place? I am also expecting you to win the tennis cup so that Anne-Marie and I can cheer very loudly...

  But again Rebecca resisted the temptation.

  She had no knowledge of how the school Appeal was going, nor how long it would be before everything was signed and sealed. Things might go wrong. Even if they didn't, Miss Welbeck might still not be in a position to allow them access to their favourite haunts in time for the French girls' visit. It was silly of Mara to have said anything!

  So she simply told Emmanuelle that the venues hadn't been decided yet.

  She was relieved when she received a reply back from her pen friend, just before half-term, to see that no further questions were asked, apart from an idle enquiry about windsurfing.

  Which was just as well.

  Because Sue went home for the holiday. And when she returned, and showed the other five the confidential circular, hopes plummeted.

  Most of the Fifth Years had stayed on over the half-term holiday in order to revise, Rebecca included.

  Her oral exams, French, then German, were safely behind her. She felt she'd acquitted herself well, especially in the French. But only ti
me would tell.

  Now the great mountain of written exams lay immediately ahead. Starting the Thursday after half term, with a maths paper; followed by a geography paper on the Friday. Then, all the other papers looming up like baying wolves, packed closely together in the fortnight following, with just a scattering to finish with in the last two weeks of June.

  It was easier at school, all revising together. Minds focused, the top floor at Court House silent save for the rustle of paper, the faint tinkle of walkmans, the occasional whir of the photocopy machine. Rebecca knew that her grandmother would have wanted to chat and fuss and try to be helpful. Most of them felt it was much better to stay on at school.

  Sue was an exception. She'd been home. Mr and Mrs Murdoch had come down on the Saturday to take her to the semi-finals of the music competition. Rebecca and Co, snatching a little time off from their studies, had gone along later in the school minibus with Mr Barrington, who was Trebizon's director of music.

  Rebecca had managed to wangle Cliff on board! He was longing to see how Ginge got on but couldn't spare the whole day. He'd go out there with Rebecca and back with Ginge.

  They were treated to several hours of music-making of the highest standard and both Sue and Ginge were winners of their sections.

  Rebecca and Tish hugged one another. Sue had made it!

  'They're through!' Cliff shouted gleefully, dancing around, hands clasped above head. 'They're through to the Finals!'

  It was all marvellously exciting.

  Mr Barry was glowing as he stood and talked to the Murdochs by their car. Even Sue's brothers had been elated by it all.

  Rebecca went across the car park to see Cliff off. He was opening the boot while Ginge loaded in his trombone case and music.

  'You were brilliant, Ginge,' she said. 'Will it really be all right to give me and my pen friend a lift to the Finals?'

  'And me!' chirped Cliff.

  'As long as you don't mind an early start!' He, like Sue, was in a happy daze.

  Of course they didn't mind.

  Sue had got through to the Finals. So had Ginge. It would be a great day out for Emmanuelle. One of the highlights of her week at Trebizon! She'd tell her in the next letter...

  Cliff had thrown his arms round Rebecca and kissed her cheeks. They wouldn't be seeing each other for a while.

  'Good luck with your exams, Beck,' he said.

  'Good luck you.'

  She'd waved the car out of the car park. Then waved again as Sue had driven off in the bosom of her family - off home for half-term.

  But Sue was back now. And looking upset.

  'This circular arrived for Mum in the post this morning. She left it lying around so I ran off a copy on Dad's copier, when nobody was looking.' They could all see the words at the top:

  TO ALL OLD TREBIZONIANS

  PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL

  'Your face tells me,' said Tish, 'that it's bad news.'

  One or two heads popped out of cubicles.

  'What's going on?' asked Jenny.

  'We're trying to work!' complained Fiona.

  'Come on - outside!' whispered Rebecca.

  The six went through the fire escape door and sat huddled on the metal staircase in the warm evening sun, reading the letter in silence.

  Bad news it was. The school was reporting back to its Old Girls.

  It seemed that the Appeal had almost certainly failed.

  'So those good pledges that came in, in the first week, were just...' Elf's voice trailed away.

  'A false dawn?' said Sue. 'Apparently, yes.'

  The six friends looked at each other in dismay.

  The news from the governors was doubly bad.

  On the one hand, pledges received up to date were only halfway to the target. On the other, the target figure would have to be increased in any case.

  It seemed the rival bidder was pressing the agents very hard for a decision and had upped his offer to £60,000 to try and clinch things.

  It was his last offer but unless the school could top it in the next four weeks, they, must admit defeat. The position wasn't looking hopeful.

  Sadly, the letter concluded, we may find that we are not in a position to take up the many generous pledges you have given. We are urgently exploring other possible fund-raising ideas but the outlook at present is far from encouraging. Thank you again for your support. We shall keep you informed.

  Mara suddenly grabbed it from Sue's hand.

  'And now I shall make a copy, too!' she whispered, eyes flashing crossly. 'Miss Welbeck would not listen to my fund-raising idea!'

  She flounced inside, ran a copy of the letter off on the machine then took it to her cubicle.

  They all gathered round her as she scribbled a letter to her father and put it in an envelope, enclosing the copy of the circular.

  'Now we shall see what we shall see!' she said anxiously, as she sealed the envelope. 'Has anybody got stamps, please?'

  They all rushed to find her some. The situation was dire. This had to be worth a try!

  And, one week into their big exams, Mr Leonodis telephoned his daughter from Athens.

  Rebecca was lying on her rug, hands over ears, feverishly trying to memorize her history Time Chart when Mara came bursting back up.

  'My father will be in England in two weeks' time, for my brother's graduation. He says he will pop down afterwards and see what all the fuss is about. Now, Rebecca, we have hope again!'

  SIX

  A MYSTERY RECOGNIZED

  However, a storm blew up on the day he visited. It came without warning. Mr Leonodis could hardly be expected to appreciate the joys of Mulberry Cove with the wind and the rain lashing full in his face. The island he didn't inspect at all. And that was only the half of it. But a thunderstorm of all things! Fate, Rebecca decided, couldn't possibly have been more mockingly cruel.

  Up to that moment, ever since the day he'd phoned Mara at Court, the weather had been delightfully warm. Delicious for swimming in the sea. Not so good for sitting examinations. Room 5A, high up in the old building, always a sun-trap and so cosy in winter, became unbearably hot at times. 'So this is what they mean by the greenhouse effect?' joked Tish. The pollen count was high, too. Both Nathan twins were afflicted with hay fever throughout the GCSE exams and Deborah Rickard suffered headaches.

  Rebecca simply concentrated on trying to keep calm, taking along her stuffed toy dog Bonzo each day, bringing him back afterwards. Sometimes he looked hopeful, sometimes despairing.

  Last term, Miss Welbeck had told her there was still time!

  Rebecca longed for that to be true. How was she doing? Was she doing well enough? She'd worked so hard this term, to make up lost ground.

  She'd slogged and slogged and slogged.

  They wouldn't get their results till August. Late August! That was when the printouts would arrive from the Wessex Board. What a horribly long time to be kept in suspense.

  She envied Tish and Sue, Margot and Elf, taking it all in their stride. Even Mara wasn't throwing any scenes, not now the real exams were finally upon them. She was perhaps too busy to worry; busy and purposeful and surprisingly calm. She was also looking forward to her father's visit. What a shame she'd have to miss Anestis's graduation ceremony in London! But her main preoccupation, apart from exams, was the fact that Curly Watson was leaving Garth this term, after GCSEs. He was going to naval college in September.

  'We have vowed to keep in touch always,' she confided to Rebecca when they were drinking hot chocolate one evening. 'I want Commem weekend to be just beautiful, don't you? Curly is bringing Mike Brown for Christelle now that Laura has asked Ben Hartwell. And did I tell you he's found partners for Jenny and Anne-Marie? Oh, Rebecca. He is so sweet. Will you take photographs of us together, please? Do you think the weather will be hot? Do you think it will be like this? We must be allowed to go to the cove. And then to have our barbecue on the island! It will be the last evening here for Curly!'

  Rebecca was
still digesting the earlier remark. It had jolted her.

  Laura Wilkins had invited Robbie's friend Ben! What a nerve. He'd have been so nice for Emmanuelle!

  Rebecca was surprised at this train of thought and stopped it immediately.

  'Oh, will Curly have finished exams?' she asked.

  'Yes! He leaves Garth on the Monday.'

  Boys not coming back were allowed to leave straight after exams. For a moment, Rebecca's thoughts wandered to Robbie. How were his exams going - his A-levels? She'd heard he'd been working very hard. And presumably they'd be finished soon and he, too, would be leaving Garth College.

  'So you see, Rebecca, the night of the barbecue will be the last night he is here,' Mara was saying, looking quite tearful. 'Do you think that as long as the school is going to buy, the estate agents will allow us...'

  'Don't know,' said Rebecca, abstractedly, feeling unsettled. Then, seeing Mara's hurt expression, she quickly put an arm round her shoulders. 'They might do, Mara! If the school were going to. They might indeed.'

  Mr Ruddock was pleased by Miss Welbeck's phone call. Unfortunately he couldn't himself come to the cove on Friday afternoon, he told her, but he would arrange for both gates to be left unlocked.

  And the next time the wily old estate agent received an irritable phone call from Mr Tarkus, demanding some progress, he told him that these things couldn't be hurried.

  'I have a duty to my clients to seek the best offer, Mr Tarkus. The school is still very interested in acquiring the land. I understand one of the girls will be showing her father round on Friday afternoon. Mr Leonodis wants to help, I believe.'

  'Leonodis? The shipping magnate?'

  'I believe so.'

  There was a moment's silence.

  'Well, I wish them luck with him,' Mr Tarkus snapped.

  Mr Ruddock put the phone down, then smiled and rubbed his hands together.

  It was always satisfactory when two parties were interested in acquiring the same thing. Price-wise, so much more satisfactory.