by Anne Digby
Good old Tish, she was thinking. Trying to keep the lid on things. But Mara's right.
'Then you agree!' cried Mara, jumping up and clapping her hands. 'Rebecca agrees with me!' she called out, over the top of the cubicle. 'We are to tell the rest of the floor!'
Tish and Co appeared, as if by magic.
'Are you sure, Rebecca?'
'Sure it's OK?'
'You really don't mind?'
'Why, you bunch of conspirators!' laughed Rebecca.
Mara was already heading for the main door.
'I shall run and catch Fiona up! Before she gets into hall. We mustn't talk about it in the hall!' The six were last out.
Rebecca and Co made to follow Mara but then Rebecca suddenly remembered her letters.
'Wait for me!' she exclaimed, running back to her cubicle.
She picked up her paperweight, the shining pebble, to scoop the two letters off the table. Then she froze, a little frisson of shock running down the back of her neck. How odd!
The letter to Emmanuelle was now lying face downward, on top of Cliff's. But it hadn't been like that before. She'd put it under the pebble the right way up! She could remember seeing the blue airmail sticker peeping out, when she'd looked there last night. Rebecca picked up both letters, examined them and then placed them in her pocket. She was relieved to note that at least they hadn't been opened.
'Anything wrong?' asked Tish, putting her head in. 'You've gone a bit white.'
'Somebody's been in my cubie again. Last night!' whispered Rebecca.
'Not possible!' said Tish. 'Both doors locked.'
'I'm sorry, Tish. Someone's been in, I tell you. Looking at my mail.'
As Rebecca explained, Tish looked both puzzled and perturbed.
'But no-one could get in, unless - '
'They were in already?'
The two girls' eyes met, in disbelief. It was somebody on their floor, then. It had to be.
EIGHT
A VERY SECRET MEETING
'Come on, you two!' Elf was calling out, plaintively.
'I'd better stop Mara,' said Rebecca, quickly. 'Before she talks to anyone.'
'Yes, you better had. And I'll tell the others.'
Sue, Margot and Elf fell back in surprise as Rebecca shot past them. She sprinted across the grounds, blonde hair flying, in time to find Mara standing diminutively between Jenny and Fiona on the terrace outside dining hall.
They were listening attentively, two big, kind comfortable girls. They turned to greet Rebecca with bewildered smiles as she came racing up.
'Rebecca!' exclaimed Fiona, fresh-faced, eager to be friendly as always. 'Mara's just told us. That what really happened was your locker was burgled. But the only thing they took was your Time Chart.'
'That's right,' said Rebecca, with a brief nod. At least Mara hadn't told them the whole story yet. 'Quick, Mara, got to go.'
'It's really pathetic, Becky. We'll keep our eyes open,' said Jenny, in blank incomprehension. 'OK, Mara?'
'Yes. Thank you, Jennifer,' replied the Greek girl, looking pleased.
Rebecca dragged Mara away, trying to imagine either of those two towers of strength of Trebizon's hockey Second Eleven peering inquisitively through her diary or her private letters . . . and deciding that as suspects they were totally unbelievable. But then so was Elizabeth and so were the three As. All of them were unbelievable.
None of them, surely, could be her secret enemy - and yet one of them must be.
'We'll take one each, then?' said Tish, crisply. 'There's six of them. They'll each have a shadow. But they mustn't suspect. Sooner or later, whoever it is will give herself away. As long as we all stick like limpets!'
'How unpleasant,' said Sue.
'Must we?' sighed Rebecca.
'Of course we must!' said Elf.
Reluctantly, Margot and Mara nodded their agreement, too. Whether they liked it or not, somebody on their floor was behaving stupidly. They'd not be able to relax now, till they found out who. And why! It couldn't be tolerated.
It was the same Sunday morning and Action Committee's most secret meeting ever. They'd skipped church and cycled surreptitiously down to the town, two at a time. The prearranged meeting place was Mick's Diner, a cheap eating place on the sea front. Like the amusement arcade next door it was a no-go area, even to the Garth College boys. Nobody from school ever went there. It was the only safe place the six could think of. They needed to have a long meeting and they didn't want to put their quarry on her guard, whoever she was. The 'burglary' of the Time Chart had already got out. But she mustn't suspect they knew a lot more than that! And that, very soon, they'd be closing in on her.
'The person must be trying to find something out,' Margot had suggested, sipping her coke slowly. 'There's something she wants to know.'
'And pretty badly, by the look of it,' agreed Elf.
'But there's nothing to find out, they're just being nosey,' Rebecca had insisted. 'And anyway why take my Time Chart?'
'To find out who won the Crimean War!' joked Tish.
'Not to mention why the Corn Laws were repealed,' said Sue. Then, she had exclaimed: 'Come on, let's stop fooling around. I don't like this grotty place.' She'd had to turn down coffee with Justy this morning - at Fenners, their favourite haunt.
And so after much racking of brains all round, Tish had suggested the plan.
'I bag Fiona,' she said, now. 'I think she's the most likely.'
'Don't be so unfair, Tish!' said Mara, thinking: Just because she behaved oddly when she first came! It was only because she wanted to be noticed; wanted people to be friendly. 'I like Fiona.'
'Nobody's asking you to shadow her,' Tish retorted.
'I shall take Elizabeth!' Mara said, suddenly livening up. 'She admires Robbie! Perhaps she is jealous. Perhaps she likes reading the letters he writes to Rebecca.'
'She'll have to wait a long time for those at the moment,' said Rebecca, drily.
'If she admires my brother she's mad enough for anything!' whispered Tish.
'Except she doesn't, anyway!' Sue whispered back.
'Yes, I shall take Elizabeth!' repeated Mara, firmly.
Margot and Elf decided to take on Anne and Ann; those two were almost as inseparable as they were themselves.
'Good planning,' agreed Sue. 'Talking of which I'll take on Jenny, if nobody minds. That'll give me the least to do.' She was referring to the fact that she was now practising her violin almost constantly for the Wessex Young Musician of the Year heats. 'Because I'm sure it isn't Jenny.'
'That leaves me with Aba then,' shrugged Rebecca. 'Aba. How ridiculous!'
But they all were. Every single one of them.
'Well, you're the best one to keep up with Aba, Rebeck,' grinned Tish. 'You're our best sprinter! You can shadow her round the track in the mornings, if you like!'
'That is not part of the deal,' said Rebecca, and they all laughed.
The meeting ended. They agreed from now on to act with great caution. Just watch, and wait.
No going into huddles at school; no suggestion that they were up to anything. The unknown person must be lulled into a sense of false security.
'Then, when she does it again, we'll catch her!' said Margot eagerly. They left as they'd arrived, two by two. Rebecca and Mara stayed till last.
Rebecca bought some more crisps and sat brooding about Margot's remark. Would the person really do it again? Would they go on snooping for ever? Did they really like creeping into her cubicle when she wasn't there? Or maybe even when she was there, but fast asleep. Was that when they'd come, last night? Or could it have been while they'd all been out on the balcony, early this morning?
Her letters to Cliff and Emmanuelle were now safely posted. She'd made sure to buy some stamps and then put them in the main box, on the way to Mick's Diner.
They hadn't been opened, thank goodness, but the person had definitely been turning them over. Why?
'It's horrid, isn't it, Rebecca?' sa
id Mara, with much emotion. 'To have to follow round people we like and spy on them. Do you find that upsetting?'
'Very,' replied Rebecca. She paused. 'But what they're doing is rather upsetting, too.'
And then something else happened to upset her, something quite different.
Robbie Anderson ignored her.
NINE
BOY TROUBLE
Their bikes were chained to the railings further along the sea front, a little way past the amusement arcade. Walking past and hearing the pulsating beat of canned music, Rebecca paused and glanced inside. The doors were open. It was like a great dark cavern in there, the flickering lights from electronic games illuminating shadowy figures huddled round a row of screens. The local youth, presumably; bored with the emptiness of a seaside town in March, with the wind whipping the surf across the lonely bay and the gulls mewing.
Then suddenly, in the furthest and darkest corner, a brilliant flicker of fluorescent blue lit up a tall figure hunched over the controls of an aeroplane game.
Pleasurable surprise ran through Rebecca at the sight of that familiar back view; the long legs in denim jeans, the dark hair curling at the nape of the neck on to the collar of an old rugby shirt. It was just the briefest glimpse.
'Robbie!' she cried.
She saw him glance over his shoulder - and then it was dark again and other figures moved across and blocked her view.
'Robbie!' she called out again, waving. 'It's me.'
Boys in the cavernous interior called back, oafishly. 'Yoo-hoo!'
'It's me, darling!'
Mara rushed back and grabbed her arm.
'Rebecca. What are you doing?'
'Robbie's in there!' laughed Rebecca. This was so unexpected. Robbie being where he shouldn't be, just like them! Next door to where they'd been sitting. It would be rather nice to talk to him. So he wasn't a complete hermit, after all.
As the blue light flickered on again, she saw there was just an empty space where he'd been standing.
'Robbie's never in a dump like this!' Mara was exclaiming, trying to drag Rebecca away from the doors. 'Come on.'
'He is,' retorted Rebecca. 'He's left the machine now, so he must be on his way out. He heard me call. He'll be out in a moment, Mara.'
They stood on the pavement, and waited.
Robbie didn't appear.
So they moved over to their bikes and waited there. But still he didn't appear.
'You see, Rebecca. You imagined it.'
Rebecca went back and peered again into the amusement arcade, trying to pick out the figures in the gloom. She certainly wasn't going to venture in there. And she suddenly felt extremely deflated. There was a side exit on to Albion Street. Robbie must have slipped out that way.
'You're right, Mara,' she said, returning to the bikes. 'It is an awful dump. Come on, let's go.'
As they cycled out of town and took the windswept top road back to Trebizon, Mara talked non-stop, puffing and exhilarated by the cycle ride.
'It was never Robbie! You must have him on the brain, Rebecca. He is working very hard for his A - levels! You know he wants to try for Oxford again. All the boys are working. Even Curly is working. He says he must get good GCSEs. He still talks of joining the navy this summer. Oh, Rebecca. I will miss him so much. I will be devastated. Look at the sea. Doesn't it look wild today?'
But Rebecca was barely listening. She was feeling much too annoyed.
Of course it was Robbie! He wasn't working hard for his A-levels, at all! She hadn't really taken in Tish's jokey remarks about computer games at the time. After all, Robbie was interested in computers, anyway.
The Oxford rejection had been a shock but they'd written him a really good letter. They'd like to consider him again for the following year, they'd said, as long as he applied for a course he really wanted to do. Something different from last time. Of course, Robbie knew he'd have to get excellent A-levels first. That apart, he had the world at his feet, surely?
Rebecca had imagined from the hints of a 'brilliant new plan' that he'd decided on his course at last and was now working like a maniac to get good A-level results first.
But was he? And if he had time to loaf around in amusement arcades, why hadn't he been to see her at all?
He was embarrassed now -because she'd caught him out! And dodged away, hoping she'd think she'd made a mistake! Well, she hadn't made a mistake and it was all very annoying.
And baffling. There must be more to it.
Over the course of the next few days, Rebecca forced herself to face up to the possibility that Robbie might simply be losing interest in her.
He'd been so excited at the idea of her getting that tennis contract. At the time, Tish said he'd been boasting mysteriously round Garth College for weeks. He'd helped her in the early days, too; to become a good tennis player.
So was that the answer? Did he only like girls who were glamorous or exciting or different?
Did he think she was boring now?
Well, he was getting pretty boring himself! she thought, crossly.
Though, in the past, that was the last thing he'd ever been.
Rebecca started to look forward to the post each morning, hoping for a letter from Cliff.
Another thing that had to be faced over the next few days was that the shadowing plan didn't work. Following the other six around, without arousing their suspicions, was to prove impossible.
'I'm sure Sue's spying on me,' Jenny confided to Elizabeth and Fiona, in Moffatt's one day. She looked very upset. 'It's ridiculous but it's just a feeling I have.'
'It's not ridiculous at all,' said Elizabeth. 'D'you know, I popped into Rebecca's cubie last night to see if I could borrow her Tippex and she wasn't there and Mara practically jumped on me? As though I were a criminal or something.'
'I know for a fact Tish Anderson is tailing me around,' confessed Fiona. 'And Aba told me she gets the feeling that Rebecca's watching her. It looks as though the six are spying on all of us! And d'you know what I think it is?'
'What?' asked Jenny.
'Gone off their heads?' suggested Elizabeth, laughing.
'No.' Fiona's shoulders heaved, importantly. 'I think they think one of us stole Rebecca's Time Chart. That's what I think it is.'
'Really? Oh dear.'
'You must be right, Fi!'
'It's gross, isn't it?' said Fiona, gratified.
And not only was the exercise proving impractical but also extremely dull.
The only bit of excitement all week was when Anne got up in the middle of the night. She accidentally tip-toed on that loud floorboard, causing Mara to wake and sit bolt upright in bed. Mara sat there, too terrified to get out of bed, ears straining to hear what was happening.
But Anne was only going to the bathroom.
By the end of the week, the six members of Action Committee were each racking their brains to think of a better plan. They were determined not to admit defeat but it didn't look at though they'd solve the mystery this way.
'Blow this following around for fun,' Tish whispered to Rebecca, on the Friday night.
Rebecca was too tactful to remind her that it had been her idea in the first place.
She was hoping that Joss would give her a game of tennis on the Saturday morning. Then she'd get down to some history prep. But Joss was needed at First Eleven hockey practice. Trebizon was playing Hillstone this afternoon, at home. This match, together with the match against Caxton High, who had a crack girls' team this season, would decide the League Cup. The Caxton match was to be played at the very end of term. It was all neck and neck at the moment.
Joss was brilliant, a national junior hockey player. Tish, apart from Laura Wilkins in Tavistock, was the only other Fifth Year with a regular place in the First Eleven, a rare honour. She'd eased off her running career lately, till exams were over, but simply put twice as much energy into her hockey. She was playing superbly at present, the pride of Court House. They'd all be there to cheer her on tod
ay!
Greta Darling, Trebizon's tennis coach, came to Rebecca's rescue and gave her an hour's hard practice on the staff court. 'The Dread' was secretly delighted to help but as usual concealed her emotions behind her deadpan face and ramrod back.
Rebecca played with great style.
She returned to Court House, cheeks glowing, and went to look at the mail board on the ground floor to see if there was a letter from Cliff yet.
Tish, just back from the hockey practice, sidled alongside.
'You've already had one letter this morning,' she laughed. 'You greedy thing.'
'I just wondered if anything had come by second post,' Rebecca murmured.
Tish was referring to a letter from Emmanuelle. It had come by first post. Unlike Cliff, she'd written back within the week! And from France too.
I was so happy to get a letter from you at last, with all your news. My Bac work also is hard. I am pleased that some of the exams you passed, the important ones. What is thing you have mislaid, exactly? What is a Time Chart? I hope you may have found it again. It was very nice of Cliff to be the knight on white charger! I am writing to tell you some news. You know that Anne-Marie has a boy friend called Jacques? Bien, Jacques can drive now and his father on Saturday has bought him a very beautiful car. Jacques is promising to drive us four girls to many different places. He will take us to Versailles and also to Fontainebleau . . . We shall picnic in the forest where they hunted wild boar . . .
Jenny had received the same news, from AnneMarie, and they waved their letters at each other on the way to dining hall. Then she'd told Tish and the others about it over breakfast.
'Well, aren't you and Jenny the lucky ones!' commented Margot.
'None of our pen friends has good contacts like that!' laughed Elf.
As Rebecca put the letter back in her pocket and munched into toast and marmalade, only one thought had clouded the horizon. By writing back so quickly, Emmanuelle had unwittingly put the ball back in her court. Because she'd still got that confession to make; something else that had to be faced. And this latest news, about the fabulous time she was being offered in Paris, was going to make it all the harder.
