by Anne Digby
At that stage, everybody still felt warmly towards Emmanuelle.
'You'll never guess the good news, Rebeck,' said Tish, down in Vennick Cove that afternoon, as they sat lolling against a warm rock and dried off in the sunshine. They were watching Emmanuelle, Ariane, Coralie and Marie-Laure fly backwards and forwards across the water on their sailboards. Impressive!
Together with Margot and Elf, they'd spent the past hour falling off theirs, in the shallows. Discovering that windsurfing was more difficult than it looked. Now they were taking a break and watching the four expert French girls. Tish was looking after Ariane for Sue, who'd gone to Garth College to say goodbye to Justin. He was leaving today, for good. Mara had gone with her, to see Curly, taking Christelle and Anne-Marie. After the success of last night, Mike and Chris had invited the two French girls to tea!
Tish's own pen friend had wanted to stay back at the boarding house and watch TV. Jenny had nobly offered to keep her company, so that Tish and Ariane could go windsurfing.
'What good news is that?' asked Rebecca.
'Sandrine isn't coming to the barbecue tonight! She and Ariane are going down to Dennizon Point. They want to take photos of Michael Deeping's yacht and hang around and try and get his autograph.'
Rebecca snorted.
'Groupies! Who's taking them?'
'Virginia Slade's offered. In her car.'
'Trust her! She probably wants his autograph, too.'
Although the Fifth Years in Court House had remained stony-faced about Michael Deeping, the whole school had been agog with the news by Sunday lunch time. The juniors had been quite excited and Virginia Slade had been showing her newspaper dizzily around the Upper Sixth. Sensible people soon realized that it wasn't exciting at all but very bad news for the school. Holly and Harriet were deeply upset.
But a few of the French girls thought it thrilling. The star was quite a cult figure in France. That he should be staying so near! Formidable!
'I'm surprised at Ariane wanting to go,' added Rebecca.
'It's all right. She asked first. Which is more than Sandrine did! And it suits Sue, as it happens. Now she can leave the barbecue early if she wants to. She's terribly behind with her violin. And she's in a bit of a turmoil about Justin leaving. But it's practising her pieces she's most worried about. Just think, it's the big day on Thursday!'
'That's going to be so exciting!' Rebecca leaned back against the rock and felt eager pleasure at the prospect. The Finals of the Wessex Young Musician of the Year competition! The day in Exonford was going to be the high spot of the week. 'I want her to come first and Ginge to come second.'
'He's nice,' agreed Tish.
'Still, it was incredibly rude of Sandrine,' added Rebecca. 'Not even to ask if you minded.'
'Then it's lucky that I don't!'
Tish laughed and got to her feet. Emmanuelle was heading inshore, shouting to them.
'Come on, Rebeck. Your pen friend wants to give us another lesson.'
As they dragged their sailboards down to the water's edge, she added:
'Good value, isn't she? I'm glad she's coming to the barbecue!'
But she wasn't.
And, like Sandrine, she didn't even ask her pen friend if she'd mind.
She just suddenly appeared in Rebecca's cubicle that evening wearing a smartish skirt instead of the pale stonewashed jeans they'd both planned to wear the previous day. 'You have the same? What fun! We shall be like sisters, Rebecca!' she'd said then.
And her camera was slung over her shoulder.
'I am going with Sandrine to Dennizon Point!' she announced. 'There is room for me in the car. I will have to miss the barbecue, Rebecca!'
Rebecca had been brushing her hair. She stopped. In astonishment.
'Emmanuelle...I...I...thought you were looking forward to it. It won't be any fun if you don't come.'
'This is too good a chance to miss!' Emmanuelle was smiling brightly, at the same time not quite daring to meet Rebecca's eye. 'Everybody in France loves Michael Deeping! They will not believe I have seen him unless I can get his autograph.'
'He's buying our island, Emmanuelle. We hate him! I'm amazed - ' Rebecca couldn't go on.
Emmanuelle quickly turned away...
'They are waiting for me. The car will go without me! We will have a lovely day together tomorrow, Rebecca. Shall we do the windsurfing again?'
...and was gone.
As the six made their way to the beach, Rebecca carrying the tin of shortbread, the other five could tell how hurt she was. But she wouldn't hear a word against Emmanuelle.
'She's just got a bit carried away, that's all,' she said.
'Extraordinary!' muttered Tish. 'The last thing you'd ever expect.'
'Oh, do shut up about it Tish!'
When they reached the dunes, the boys had already got the fire going and the bay looked beautiful. Empty now, except for one or two local people walking dogs along the shore. The waves breaking and spuming, dogs barking. Woodsmoke drifting. A beautiful, beautiful midsummer evening, all spoiled now.
'Isn't Emmanuelle coming?' asked Ginge, when he arrived with Cliff.
'No. Better things to do!'
Rebecca made light of it.
'But she's coming on Thursday, Ginge. We're looking forward to it. Don't you dare forget to pick us up!'
'You're not allowed to cheer for him, only me!' said Sue, to ease the tension.
Inside, Rebecca was churning. She and Emmanuelle had always been so perfectly in tune up to now. This was preposterous. Going off with Sandrine, to hang around Michael Deeping's yacht. It was also rather humiliating.
Was Rebecca and Cliff's company worth so little? Was Ginge's?
Might things have been better if Robbie's friend Ben had been Emmanuelle's partner last night? Rebecca kept wondering.
Apparently he and Laura Wilkins hadn't hit it off, anyway. After all, Ben had been her very first idea. And she knew now that Robbie would have liked to come to Commem. Nothing to stay for, he'd said bitterly. Not much of a school-leaving for him, was it? Was all this somehow her fault?
But Ginge was just as much fun as Ben, Rebecca told herself.
And as the evening wore on, she was relieved to see him laughing and joking with Jenny again, making up a sort of foursome with Anne-Marie and Chris Earl-Smith. Chris played trumpet in the Garth College jazz band now and he and Ginge found plenty to talk about. It was good to see that Cliff's friend wasn't allowing himself to be perturbed by events.
But Rebecca was.
She didn't even get on with Cliff as brilliantly as usual. She was too preoccupied.
At dusk, standing with him by the fire's dying embers, a cloud of melancholy seemed to descend on her. Some people had drifted away.
Tish and Jenny had gone for a walk with Ginge and Sue's brother, David. Sue herself had gone back to Court House, to her violin. She was already missing Justin with a dull ache. Today he'd left Garth for ever, together with Edward, the elder of her two brothers.
On the other side of the fire, Mara and Curly had their arms locked round each other's waists in soulful silence. This was their last evening together. More summer goodbyes, thought Rebecca sadly.
The happy squeals of laughter in the far distance, as Garth Fifth Years kicked spray over French visitors, seemed to belong to somebody else's world.
'I think I'll go back in a minute, Cliff,' she said.
'Me too. As soon as Ginge shows up.'
Rebecca glanced at him. For the first time it dawned on her just how subdued he, too, was this evening and that it was probably her fault.
'I'm sorry, Cliff. I just can't get over Emmanuelle, that's all.'
He shrugged and said nothing.
'Please don't think too badly of her. Don't let Ginge. She'll come on Thursday.'
He returned her glance.
'Everyone's unpredictable sometimes,' he said.
He didn't even kiss her goodnight.
It was some kind of message, Rebecca decided
. Was he telling her perhaps that she, too, was unpredictable? In bed that night, she lay and thought about it.
Was he more hurt than he'd shown, when she hadn't wanted to come to the beach last night? When she'd been happy to let him dance with other people? Was he annoyed by her unusual bout of fatigue and that highly-charged encounter with Robbie that had preceded it? Did he think there was some connection between the two? Didn't he realize what it was like to play a tennis match like that when you were out of training - and then lose?
And she hadn't been much fun tonight again. Surely he didn't imagine she'd been thinking about Robbie tonight?
Cliff had never been the jealous type before. He was so relaxed; that was the thing she most loved about him.
Was Cliff changing, too? Was her dear, sunny old Cliff getting complicated?
Right now, that was the last thing she needed.
As for Emmanuelle, would it be difficult for them to get back on their old footing after tonight?
Difficult but not impossible, was Rebecca's fervent hope.
TEN
ANNE-MARIE'S SECRET
By Wednesday afternoon things between them were so very nearly all right again; Emmanuelle was trying hard to make amends. That afternoon they came tantalisingly close to being back on their old footing - almost there but not quite. It was when they went round Mulberry Castle together. The Willoughbys had been showing two groups a day over the National Trust property and it was their turn at last.
The panoramic view from the library window, of Mulberry Cove and its island, was quite breathtaking. Emmanuelle was very moved by it.
June had slipped into July without any break in the glorious weather. The French Exchange girls were having a wonderful time. They had to be in school for assemblies, one or two English lessons and some special showings of cultural films. But otherwise there was a varied programme of outside activities for them to choose from.
M. Lafarge, Trebizon's own head of French, and Mme Robert, his counterpart from the lyceé, had laid on a coach tour of Wessex for tomorrow and Friday. It was for the visitors only and those going on it would be away two days, staying the night in a youth hostel in Dorset. Sandrine, Ariane, Marie-Laure and Coralie had all signed up for it, together with a scattering of French girls from Tavistock and Chambers but in face Mme Robert was having difficulty filling the coach. Most of her pupils were enjoying themselves too much around Trebizon.
'You're sure you don't want to go, Emmanuelle?' Rebecca had asked on the Monday morning, defensively. Let there be no more misunderstandings. Better to know the worst. 'Don't mind me, if you do.'
Emmanuelle had looked at the hurt expression on Rebecca's face in dismay. Had suddenly flung her arms round her.
'Rebecca - please! Do not be silly! How could I want to spend two whole days away from you? Sitting all the time on a stuffy coach! The weather, too, it is lovely. I want us to be together.'
Emmanuelle and Ariane had spent a lot of time on Monday and Tuesday windsurfing in Vennick Cove; had been there again this morning. On Sunday, Rebecca's pen friend had charmed the windsurf man into hiring out his best board to her for the entire week, at a special rate! It had a dark green sail and seemed to move more swiftly and slickly than the others, or was that simply Emmanuelle's skill?
Rebecca enjoyed being with them; swimming, gradually learning the arts of windsurfing, and knowing that at the same time she was helping Sue. For this left Sue free to concentrate as never before on preparing for Thursday's music final.
Poor Tish was less fortunate. Sandrine's sole interest centred on the clothes shops in the town and Tish, the least fashion-conscious person in Court House if not the entire school, found herself being endlessly dragged around them. She was counting the hours till Thursday morning, when Sandrine would disappear off on her coach tour of Wessex. What a mis-match they were! Emmanuelle on the other hand, by Wednesday afternoon, was at her most kindred.
'It is so beautiful around here, Rebecca,' she said, as they stood and looked through the library's mullioned windows. 'Has this castle really been here since the Norman time?'
'The back bit, yes. You Frenchies built it after you'd conquered us!' replied Rebecca. 'There was something else here before that, going right back into the mists of time! People have lived on this site since the year dot!'
They gazed down to the steep little field and the cove below. She told Emmanuelle about the Roman coins that had been found in the cove two summers before. Her pen friend listened in wonder. Both girls were fascinated by the past.
'The island has always been here, also!' sighed Emmanuelle, staring towards the shimmering hump of land in the glittering sea beyond both headlands. How inviting it looked on this perfect afternoon. 'Perhaps two thousand years ago Cabronius moored his boat there and walked around it! Before he came across to the cove and buried the coins.'
'Yes. Perhaps he did!'
'Oh, Rebecca, it looks so mysterious again. I wish we could go there. I wish we could live in that little cottage for a week and live off fish from the sea and sunbathe!'
'There's no glass in the windows and lots of tiles missing from the roof!' laughed Rebecca.
Then, remembering, a shadow crossed her face.
'It'll be pulled down now, anyway. And a smart house built. And no-one allowed near the place.'
Wretched Michael Deeping! With the whole world to choose from why did he have to go and fall in love with their island?
In assembly these past three mornings, Miss Welbeck had made no reference to the dramatic news in the Sunday paper. But according to Suky Morris, the school had all but given up hope. Their offer still hadn't been accepted and the estate agents had informed them that a better one was expected imminently.
Emmanuelle looked uncomfortable.
'It is stupid, Michael Deeping wanting to buy the island. He is stupid.' She lowered her gaze, shamefaced. 'I am stupid also, wanting to get his autograph. We did not even see the yacht, did you know that, Rebecca?' Rebecca did know. Sandrine had grumbled at length to Tish about the failed expedition. The yacht had already left Dennizon Point and Virginia had chased miles down the coast, trying to locate it, in vain. 'And I missed the lovely barbecue,' finished Emmanuelle. 'Please forgive me, Rebecca. Did you mind? Did Cliff and Ginge?'
'Only a little bit,' lied Rebecca.
It was such a relief, Emmanuelle's talking about it at last. She was sorry, then? Rebecca suddenly felt that they were almost totally in tune again. If not completely. Why not completely? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. However, she decided that now was the moment to tell her about tomorrow's surprise.
'Guess what Cliff's done!' she said, as they walked out of the library and descended some stone steps to the armoury. There'd been much phoning to and fro about it. 'All the musicians get two hours' break in the middle of the day tomorrow. Cliff's booked a table for four at the new French restaurant in Exonford. He says it's right by the town hall anyway. He and Ginge are going to treat us to lunch! You'll have some proper French food for a change. I hope you're impressed?'
'I am very impressed!'
So had Rebecca been. That Cliff should think of something so imaginative! Obviously he must feel, like Rebecca, that Commem weekend hadn't been an unqualified success. So he wanted this outing to make up for it. It was lovely of him.
Now she linked arms with Emmanuelle as they threaded their way through suits of armour, to join the others, their footsteps ringing on the old flagged floor.
'And then Friday's the disco at Caxton High! Cliff says he's got the tickets okay. Their discos are the best for miles. You can do some more of your crazy dancing! Just think!' She sighed. 'It'll be our last night down here. Hope you won't be bored when my parents take us back to London and we stay in dull old Clapham. I mean, supposing it rains?'
This was a private joke between them.
Emmanuelle gave a joyous laugh.
'It can rain dogs and cats! I am longing for to go to London!'
Mara, Margot and Elf kept apologizing and wishing her luck. They'd been so upset to discover that the day at Exonford clashed with the Garth College/Trebizon Summer Entertainment, all three girls being leading members of the schools' joint choir. Christelle and Anne-Marie would be going over to Garth with them.
Ariane, together with Sandrine, Coralie and Marie-Laure had gone on the Wessex tour. The coach had left at eight o' clock! Tish, lying in bed, had heard the bus arrive for them earlier and luxuriated in the prospect of two Sandrine-free days.
Jenny gave Sue a good luck card. She'd bought one for Ginge as well. She'd so much rather have gone to Exonford today, to see them both compete. As it was she was going to have to tag around with Anne-Marie and Chris Earl-Smith at Garth College this afternoon, feeling a gooseberry. But Tish had been given the only spare seat in Mr and Mrs Barry's car. They were taking Mrs Borrelli - Sue's violin teacher - and another member of the music staff as well. It was a big day for them, one of Trebizon's Hilary Camberwell Music Scholars reaching the final of such an important competition.
'Can you give this to Ginge?' asked Jenny, after the Murdochs' car had left. Rebecca was in her cubie, wearing her cream outfit again, experimenting with a pale lipstick; Tish looking on. 'It's a good luck card.'
'You ought to give it to him yourself, Jen!' smiled Rebecca, gazing at her face in the mirror and wondering about the lipstick. 'His car will be here in a minute. I'm just waiting for Emmanuelle.'
'Where is she anyway?' frowned Tish, after Jenny had hurried off. 'Cutting it fine, isn't she?'
'I expect she's been agonising about what to wear. You know, with the French restaurant and everything! She'll be here in a minute. I told her nine o' clock.'
But, just before nine, it was Anne-Marie who appeared in her place.
'Rebecca, I have an important note for you, please,' she said, looking embarrassed. She quickly thrust an envelope into Rebecca's hands and then shot away.
