by Anne Digby
Tish and Sue appeared behind them, at the top of the flight of stairs, but Jenny didn't notice.
'I was only looking for that photo! Where was it, anyway? I looked everywhere. In your desk in the form room. Even in your locker over at the sports centre.'
Rebecca was about to explain it was at her grandmother's on the bedroom wall there.
'Tell you later!' she said quickly, glancing up the stairs. She didn't want the others to hear anything. But they already had.
***
'So Emmanuelle was the culprit?' said Margot in amazement, later. 'She was looking through her own letters.'
'By proxy,' nodded Sue.
'I always told you this was a weird one,' grinned Tish, in delight.
The Action Committee was meeting on the beach. The others had all insisted.
'Can't you tell us what it was all about?' begged Elf. 'I mean, this is the second time you've kept us in the dark. Haven't we got a right to know?'
'It's Emmanuelle's secret,' said Rebecca. 'Not mine.'
Mara nodded her head, understandingly.
'Well, come on, Rebeck. Just give us the general idea,' said Tish.
'I think she might tell you herself, one day,' said Rebecca, hesitantly. 'When we all get to know each other.'
'Well, in the meantime, just a tiny clue?' requested Sue.
Rebecca did some hard thinking. She remembered, in Latin once, Pargie telling them the roots of a particular word. She now chose it with care.
'The only thing I can tell you,' she said, 'is that it was to do with a romance that went wrong.'
'Ah!' said Mara.
The others seemed satisfied, too.
But of course she'd meant a romance in the original sense of a fiction, a wonderful tale.
Rebecca's thoughts then turned urgently to her own castles in the air. They, too, had to be demolished. It would be so much easier now. It would be such a relief.
A few days later Emmanuelle received by post a stiff-backed envelope which stated: PHOTOGRAPH - PLEASE DO NOT BEND. Looking at the British stamp and Rebecca's handwriting, she winced and hardly dared to open it. She knew this would happen!
Rebecca, sending Roland's photograph back. She must be very, very angry. Their friendship was ruined!
She found, instead, a photograph taken from Rebecca's album. It showed a plain terraced house, standing at the end of an identical row. There were three small figures at the front gate, waving to the camera. She recognised Rebecca: the man and woman must be her parents. It was a suburban looking street on a grey, drizzly sort of day. But they looked quite cheerful.
There was a short, affectionate letter, which ended
. . . so please forgive me, dear Emmanuelle, for my sins of omission which are every bit as bad as the other sort. I hope this hasn't spoiled everything for you and that we can still enjoy ourselves in London this summer. By the way, this photograph is rather special to me, so please keep it safe until we meet in Paris. I would hate to have to ask Anne-Marie or somebody to search your house for it, in secret! Love you, Rebecca XXX
Emmanuelle was overcome with joy. Rebecca had forgiven her and was not herself perfect! They were even going to be able to smile about it together.
She took the picture to the lycee that day, in its stiff-backed envelope, and showed it to Anne-Marie during English-speaking class.
'Oh, what a shame,' said Anne-Marie, being practical. 'The other house sounded so fantastique!'
'I would live with Rebecca in a cardboard box, if necessary,' replied Emmanuelle, smiling and pronouncing all her words carefully. 'She is my kindred spirit, my sister-across-the-sea. I love her more than anyone in the world!' Then added, hastily – 'Apart from you, naturellement, chere Anne-Marie.'
FOURTEEN
SOMETHING EXPLAINED
It had been a huge weight off Jenny's mind, talking to Rebecca. The letter she received from Emmanuelle on the Saturday morning made her feel even better. It was such a sweet letter, so very touching; it was impossible to feel cross with her any longer. And the six in Court House were being so nice to her about this afternoon's match; they kept telling her not to worry and wishing her luck. She felt really buoyed up now.
Maybe that crazy situation over the photograph had been getting her down more than she realised. Well, they'd keep Emmanuelle's secret safe, she and Rebecca. They weren't going to spread it around. And going around together in Paris as a foursome was going to be fun after all. There'd been times when she'd had serious doubts about that. It was good about the car.
She was a tower of strength in the big match; and she needed to be. What a crowd! The rivals seemed to have brought the whole school along. The din, every time the Caxton forwards broke for goal, was quite intimidating. There were times that afternoon when the Trebizon goalmouth seemed the loneliest place on earth to Jenny; especially each time the flying blonde in the baseball cap appeared from nowhere, eluding even Tish, pounding away at goal and piling on the pressure.
By half time she'd made several saves and Caxton still hadn't scored, whereas Trebizon had scored twice, through Joss and Alison. But she didn't know how much longer she could resist such a battering. The rival captain was like a tornado, blonde mane flying out of the back of that baseball cap. Where on earth had they found her?
'D'you know her well, Cliff?' asked Rebecca, just before half time. 'Jelly, I mean. And where did she spring from, anyway? She wasn't in your team last year.'
'She lives in my street, dead opposite. They only moved in at Christmas,' Cliff explained. 'Ball of fire, isn't she? She's set the whole school alight! Everyone's crazy to win this cup now. Apparently it'd be the first time.'
'Our goalie's got different ideas!' exclaimed Rebecca, joining in the screams of approval from Trebizon fans as Jenny made another fine save.
They were standing at the touchline together, side by side, arms entwined round each other's waists.
Naomi Cook came up to them at half time.
'I've just seen Jay and Holly and Harri, and some of the others as well!' she said happily. 'Oh, Rebecca, I don't know which side I want to win the cup.'
'Yes, you do,' teased Rebecca. 'You're just being polite. You want Caxton to.'
It was true.
'Got to go now!' said Naomi, eagerly, as her new friends called her over.
Then Rebecca's own friends wandered up, to say hello to Cliff and to chat for a while. Tish was in a huddle on the pitch, being told tactics, but at one point she turned round and waved to them all cheerfully, waving a half-orange.
'Well,' said Margot, once they'd moved away and were out of earshot of Rebecca and Cliff, 'I don't know about Emmanuelle's romance but this one seems to be going OK!'
'He is lovely. I love him,' said Mara.
'Robbie will be upset,' commented Elf.
'From what Justy's been telling me,' observed Sue, 'I'm not sure he'll even notice.'
Robbie was in a rather agitated and restless state. He was pacing up and down the courtyard at the back of Syon House, trying to decide whether or not to cycle over to Trebizon.
Tish was playing in some big hockey match this afternoon, so it'd be the most natural thing in the world to hop on his bike and get over there in time to see the finish.
He'd probably bump into Rebecca.
It'd be his last chance to see her before the two schools broke up for the Easter holidays. Rebecca would be going off to Gloucestershire to spend Easter with her grandmother, leaving most of her stuff at school. Then be coming back to Trebizon just for one night before going to Paris for nearly three weeks. According to Tish the French exchange group was leaving from school and coming straight back to school afterwards, as the summer term would have started by then.
She'd definitely seen him in the arcade. It was no use pretending to himself she hadn't. What had she made of that? It couldn't have been worse.
Well, he was over the first hurdle now. He'd been short-listed for the selection board. Maybe he could explain to
her now, how he'd been in training for some aptitude tests. But then she'd want to know what for. And he hadn't got through them yet. That was going to be in the Easter holidays.
He definitely wasn't going to tell anybody. Not until – and unless – he was accepted. He hadn't even told Justy or David or Ben. And if he told Rebecca now, then he'd have to tell Tish.
Tish mustn't know! They'd be at home together over Easter and she'd be bound to tell Helen and then it could easily get back to Dad. And Dad had this fixation about him reading medicine, and applying to Oxford again but for medicine this time, and he'd nag and nag about it all over the holiday and try to talk him out of joining the RAF.
Why go through all that hassle, when he didn't even know whether he was going to be accepted?
If he did get accepted, to train as an RAF pilot, that's when he'd break the news. And he was eighteen now, there wouldn't be a thing Dad could do about it. He might even congratulate him and feel proud in a way, once he got used to the idea. Heaven knows, the competition was tough.
But somehow Robbie found himself cycling over to Trebizon, nevertheless. He'd like to say hello to Rebecca; there'd be no harm in that, he decided. Perhaps there'd be something he could say, just some tiny hint, so she wouldn't think badly of him.
The match had just ended and hordes of people were streaming this way. Robbie stood there holding on to his bike looking for Rebecca, as waves of people broke round him, like the tide round a breakwater, their voices like the rushing of the sea. Everyone seemed terribly excited: it had been such a close thing!
Trebizon had won the game, they were saying but Caxton High the League Cup. Trebizon had won 3 - 0 and that wasn't a big enough margin, it was one goal short. Their goalie had been fantastic though. It was unbelievable that Jelly hadn't managed to get even one goal past her, whoever Jelly was. Robbie was barely listening. Where would Rebecca be?
As the crowd thinned, he glimpsed little groups of stragglers by the far goal, hanging round and talking and then the briefest glimpse of his sister. She was holding her hockey stick and sipping a carton of juice through a straw. She seemed to be in animated conversation with a boy and girl, who had their backs to him and arms entwined round each other's waists.
The boy was only slightly taller than the girl, and had a Caxton High scarf wrapped round his neck. The girl was wearing a Trebizon track suit. It was Rebecca.
So Robbie turned his bike round, jumped on the saddle and pedalled swiftly back to Garth College.
They travelled back to Trebizon as they'd travelled out three weeks earlier, on the long sea crossing with Brittany Ferries. They'd left Paris in the morning and caught the 16.30 departure from Roscoff.
In the evening, Tish came out and joined Rebecca on the middle deck and they leaned against the rails together. Rebecca had been watching the sunset, turning the sea different colours until there was only dark water stretching to a few streaks of golden light on the horizon. She'd never been abroad before and the last three weeks had been the most thrilling experience of her life.
'Emmanuelle's really great!' said Tish. 'I knew she would be. And I knew my pen friend would be boring, not the chic type.'
Rebecca laughed, the salty breeze in the dusk was blowing her hair around. She told Tish that according to Emmanuelle you pronounced it sheek-teep. It meant good sport! Rebecca had found it wonderful but strange, being taken around Paris in Jacques' car with Jenny and their two pen friends and having to speak French all the time. It had paid off. She'd done really well when they'd gone into the lycée to share lessons. But Emmanuelle was right about her cousin - he was horrible. She was glad she'd taken the photo down from her bedroom wall and thrown it away. She'd put up a poster about the Young Musicians competition, instead. Sue had won her heats at Easter. She'd be going through to the semi-finals!
And I'm going to get an A for French now! Rebecca thought, pleasurably. French Oral was the very first GCSE exam and it was less than a month away. The French exchange had come just in the nick of time. And Emmanuelle had been a marvellous help; the perfect 'sister', as Rebecca had always known she would be.
'But she still hasn't told us her secret,' Tish was saying. 'About her romance.'
'I'm sure she will, Tish. When she gets to know everyone better. When they all come over to Trebizon, for the last week of term. We'll all be together, then. Oh, won't it be fun. I bet you get to know her better when they come, Tish!'
'Well, they'll have to act sensibly and talk English for a start!' replied Tish, grinning broadly.
Then she said something quite casually and it made Rebecca stiffen.
'You're much better at keeping secrets than I am, Rebeck. I'm really glad I left home the day I did. At least I'm going straight back to school and besides, I expect Rob will know by now whether he's been accepted for the RAF or not.'
'The RAF?'
'Yes. He really did have a brilliant plan. He wants to be a pilot! All that messing around with computers was so he'd be sure to pass the aptitude tests if he got short-listed for the selection board – '
'Oh,' said Rebecca, her hand flying to her mouth.
'What's the matter?'
'Nothing,' she replied quickly. 'It's just that it makes sense of . . . well, explains something, that's all.'
She was glad that it did.
'Anyway, it seems he talked to the RAF at the Careers Fair and filled in an application form and managed to get on the short list. And then this big official looking envelope arrived so I thought it was some junk mail, well I'd sent off for this free catologue you see -- ' And Tish had opened it by mistake! It contained some information sheets and a map and a compliments slip for Robbie, saying they were looking forward to seeing him on the 18th April. 'So Robbie told me all about it then and said it was lucky I was just going away because it would be disaster if Dad found out too soon . . . ' Tish grinned. 'At least it should be out in the open by now,' she said. 'The selection board lasts four days if you get through the aptitude tests. Gruelling! Wonder if he got in? Not that you should care, Rebecca!'
'Oh, you never know,' replied Rebecca lightly. 'I might do.'
Above the noise of the sea and the throbbing of the ship's engines they heard faint voices calling, somewhere overhead. The other four were up on the top deck, leaning over the rails and shouting down to them to come up there, and see! There were some tiny lights twinkling on the horizon. They could see the lights of England! They'd soon be back at Trebizon now.
They rushed up and joined them on the top deck and craned forward as the boat plunged on through the heavy swell, heading due north for the Devon coast. There'd be a coach waiting for them at Plymouth when they disembarked to whisk them back to school.
'Isn't it funny,' said Elf. 'We started off the day in Paris with hot chocolate and criossants for breakfast and we'll end it with hot chocolate and biscuits at Trebizon!'
'Followed by lessons in the morning,' said Mara, making a face.
Then Rebecca started thinking how many things in the second half of last term had been only pretend, all mocks and pretences. Yes, even the exams had been pretend. The real ones were coming up now. Term had already started and though she'd taken two history books to France with her, there hadn't been time to look at them.
But Robbie's aeroplane games had by no means been completely pretend, after all.
They ploughed on towards Plymouth Sound. Rebecca's thoughts turned to Sir Francis Drake, repelling the Spanish Armada. It had all begun here, in these very waters, where the moon was now glinting across the darkness of the sea. It was here that the first engagement had taken place.
Was their gleaming white modern steamer even now passing over the spot where the shadowy hull of a wrecked galleon lay silent on the sea bed?
It easily could be, thought Rebecca.
THE TREBIZON SERIES IN READING ORDER
The TREBIZON series
A classic series which charts the progress and adventures of Rebecca Mason at Trebizon Sch
ool in the West of England.
First Term at Trebizon
Second Term at Trebizon
Summer Term at Trebizon
Boy Trouble at Trebizon
More Trouble at Trebizon
Tennis Term at Trebizon
Summer Camp at Trebizon
Into the Fourth at Trebizon
Hockey Term at Trebizon
Fourth Year Triumphs at Trebizon
Ghostly Term at Trebizon
Fifth Year Friendships at Trebizon
Secret Letters at Trebizon
Unforgettable Fifth at Trebizon
'Viva Trebizon! Like other giants of the genre, Anne Digby recreates the genuine flavour of schoolgirl aspirations and anguishes, friendships and rivalries. Her Trebizon stories span the so-called generation gap' – COLLECTORS' DIGEST
MORE ANNE DIGBY TITLES
A HORSE CALLED SEPTEMBER
A moving story of the passionate friendship between two girls growing up together on an isolated Devon farm in the 1970s, the break-up of that friendship – and the horse that changed their lives forever. Anne Digby’s debut novel, now regarded as a modern classic.
www.amazon.com/dp/B0077EG830
The QUICKSILVER HORSE
An enthralling story of horsemanship and a bittersweet friendship between a girl and a boy from two very different milieux -- a small travelling circus and a big racing stables. And the conflict that arises between them.
“A very happy positive book about overcoming huge obstacles...brings a wonderful vibe” – AMAZON USA Review
www.amazon.com/dp/B00AWCMEB4
AND SOME OTHER FAVOURITES....
By Alan Davidson
QUEEN RIDER
Bonnie Wyndham is angry, difficult and apparently spoiled – but she excels at horse riding.
“The momentum begins to build from the very first page and never flags at all...Highly recommended” – REVIEWSHEET
“A great story – and not just for horse-lovers” – AMAZON UK Review
www.amazon.com/dp/B00873PF5C
