by Kit Pearson
Carrie was worried about Helen wandering the streets on her own. Pam was even more reluctant. “Something could still happen to her, especially when it gets dark. It’s just not right not to tell someone.” But Eliza finally convinced them that, if Helen could get in safely, all of them would escape Miss Tavistock’s wrath and the risk would be worth it.
Jean arrived back at eight. Their story terrified her so much that they knew she wouldn’t say anything. The rabbit-dummy of Helen dozed on peacefully. When Miss Bixley appeared at a quarter past nine, their lights were already out. “In bed so soon? Good girls. Now no chattering, so you don’t wake Helen. Goodnight, everyone.”
Lying in the darkness, Eliza felt some of the extraordinary tension of the day disappear. All they could do now was wait. At least she could stop worrying about concealing Helen’s absence; now she just had Helen herself to be anxious about. She tried to fill in the gaps in the brief account Helen had given on the phone. What had she been doing all this time? And where was she now? She was taking so long …
Pam got out of bed, “Where are you going?” Eliza asked her jumpily.
“Just to the bathroom—don’t be so suspicious, Eliza.”
Suspicious? Why would she be suspicious? She didn’t have time to think of a reason, because as soon as Pam had disappeared there was a tap at the window, and in tumbled Helen.
“Let go, let go!” she gasped, as Eliza hung around her neck, and the others all started talking at the same time. “Just let me get undressed and then we’ll be safe.”
She scrambled into her pyjamas and jumped into bed, pitching out the rabbit with a chuckle. “Whew! What an incredible day! I’ll never do that again! Wait till you hear …”
Eliza could only half-listen, she suddenly felt so drained. Some things were too exciting. But everything was all right now.
Then Helen stopped in the middle of a sentence. “Where’s Pam?”
Before they had time to wonder, there were sharp rapid footsteps in the hall; then the lights flooded the room. “So you’re back, Helen. Get up, everyone,” said Miss Tavistock, in the coldest voice Eliza had ever heard her use, “and tell me if what Pamela has just told me is true.”
17
Isolation
T here were no tears left to cry. Eliza lay on the narrow sickroom bed and stared at the darkening sky outside the window. It was the same bed she’d been in when she was here in March. Part of her thought fleetingly of how much she had already cried into this mattress. But that period in the sickroom had turned into a healing rest; this time was becoming worse and worse.
She was in solitary confinement. Somewhere over in the New Residence, Helen, too, was isolated in a room. Or perhaps she had already left. How did they expel someone? Would she be smuggled away at dawn? Would Eliza ever see her again?
Her ears rang with words, all the words that had crowded the air in Miss Tavistock’s study, spoken last night and today. She tried to stop them, but they kept repeating themselves in a relentless chorus. And the dominating voice was Miss Tavistock’s.
First they had all been interviewed together, huddled on the couch, while the clock outside the study chimed the late hour. Eliza was squished between Helen and Carrie, their bodies pressing against hers with a comforting warmth.
The story had emerged quickly, drawn out by the headmistress’s piercing questions. It became painfully evident how large a part Eliza had played, by agreeing to stage the dare at her aunt and uncle’s in the first place and by being the ringleader of the concealment. Eliza was glad that Pam’s initial role was also revealed; but she knew that, by telling, Pam had cancelled out much of her wrongdoing. At least nothing had been said about any of the other dares. Miss Tavistock still thought this was a single occurrence.
“I am not going to tell you tonight,” she said, in the same icy voice she’d used all during the interview, “what I think of this dreadful behaviour, except to say you are in very serious trouble. Helen and Elizabeth, you will each sleep in isolation. The rest of you go upstairs without a word. None of you will go to church, and I will speak to each of you separately tomorrow.”
Eliza woke up with the Sunday rising bell and was handed a breakfast tray and her clothes by a silent and disapproving Mrs. Renfrew. She choked down some bacon and toast, terrified of the approaching interview. It was so lonely, not being able to talk to the others—at least Carrie, Jean and Pam had that consolation. Ever since the lights had flashed on last night, she had felt as if she were dreaming.
It wasn’t until the end of the morning that she was finally back in the headmistress’s study. At least she was being allowed to sit down. Miss Tavistock, erect in her straight-backed chair, looked tired. Her usually immaculate hair was escaping in wisps from its bun. Eliza glanced once into her clear blue eyes, then looked away. She also avoided the eye of Miss Peck, looking down at her reproachfully from the portrait. I will not cry, she thought stubbornly and dug her thumbnail hard into her little finger to keep from doing so.
The first sentence of the lecture was the hardest to bear: “I am talking to you last, Elizabeth, because it is you in whom I am most disappointed.” Then the headmistress proceeded to list all of Eliza’s transgressions.
Eliza felt removed; she could only whisper, “Yes, Miss Tavistock,” at appropriate intervals. Shocked at her detachment, she noticed that everything Miss Tavistock was saying began with a “D”: “Deceit,” “Deliberate Defiance,” “Dangerous” and “Disloyalty.” As the level voice continued she squirmed with guilt, wishing the headmistress would finish telling her what she already knew and get on to the most important part: What was going to happen to her? And to Helen?
When the stinging words finally ended, Eliza tried to make her voice work without her ready tears interfering. “I’m sorry, Miss Tavistock. It was a stupid thing to do, although we didn’t know it would turn out to be so complicated, and we didn’t deliberately rebel against the school. I really am sorry.” She sat limply and waited for the headmistress to pronounce her sentence.
Miss Tavistock’s large eyes looked at her for a few seconds, and Eliza’s tears finally overflowed. The headmistress’s voice became less stern as she handed over her handkerchief. “All right, Elizabeth. I think you know all the wrong things you’ve done, and I’m not going to tell you any more of them. I haven’t yet decided what your punishment will be. But now I want to talk to you very seriously about Helen.”
Eliza checked her crying and listened rigidly. The tears dried around her eyes, cooling them.
“When I first noticed the friendship between you and Helen I was pleased, although surprised, to see it. I thought you would be a good influence on her, and that appeared true—she seemed to be improving greatly this year. But it was a false hope. This incident proves to me that Helen has been a bad influence all along, on you and on the others.”
She stilled Eliza’s objection. “No, listen to me, Elizabeth. Helen is obviously the instigator of this prank. Yes, I know it was Pamela’s idea, but Helen herself has said she provoked Pamela into it. She admits it was all her fault—and was very adamant, by the way, that it wasn’t yours.”
“But we all did it, Miss Tavistock! Helen wouldn’t have tried it alone. We chose to help her. She didn’t influence us.” Eliza was beginning to feel angry and puzzled. She knew how high up on the Ashdown scale of offences their crime was, but surely it didn’t warrant this much fuss.
“If it were an isolated incident I would agree with you, Elizabeth. But Helen has fooled us all. There is a difference between behaviour which is unthinking foolishness, like yours, and that which is sly and deliberate. I used to think Helen was simply too full of high spirits for her own good. I now have reason to believe she is more devious than she appears—that she is, in fact, a thief.”
Every nerve in Eliza’s body became taut. She felt she was going to snap. The inside of her mouth dried up, and she tried desperately not to let the headmistress see she was reacting in any way to th
is statement.
Miss Tavistock continued. “Has Helen ever told you that she was sent to Ashdown because she was accused of stealing?” Eliza nodded warily. “I don’t make a policy of taking problem children here—that’s not what the school is for. But Helen’s grandmother is an alumna, and when she wrote to me about Helen I could see that there were other difficulties at home as well. Helen was very young and unhappy at the time, and I’m not certain she knew what she was doing.”
“She didn’t do it!” exclaimed Eliza. “She was just hanging around with those kids!”
“She once told me that herself, and I was almost convinced. But now I am not so sure.” Miss Tavistock sounded perplexed. “You see, Elizabeth, Mrs. Crump, from across the street, phoned me this morning. She says Helen stole some licorice from her store last evening. That would have been while she was waiting to come in. Helen denies it, but not very strongly. I simply don’t know what to think, because there’s the episode about the Pound Money last term, which Helen also denies, as she did in January. I have no proof that she was the culprit in that case, and I don’t wish to be unfair. But now that she’s been accused of stealing for a second time, I can’t help suspecting that she may have stolen before. Now, I want to ask you a very important question, Elizabeth.”
Eliza’s mind raced frantically. She pressed her shaking knees together and waited.
“You know Helen better than any of us. Have you ever seen evidence of her stealing while she’s been here? Now, don’t answer for a minute. Just listen carefully and think about what I’m saying.”
Miss Tavistock sat up straighter. “It was very wrong of you to cover up for Helen yesterday. I know you did it out of loyalty to her, and I do admire loyalty, but you must also be loyal to the school. I simply cannot have an underhanded, dishonest girl living in a close community that depends on trust among its members. I’m sure you see that. You have demonstrated to me ever since you’ve come here that you understand Ashdown’s principles. Now, which is more important—the welfare of all the students, or that of just Helen?”
Myriad thoughts filled Eliza’s mind. The few seconds she took before she replied seemed an eternity.
She had never really been sure of Helen. The other girl could have been lying to her all along, and Miss Tavistock’s revelation bewildered her so much that part of her longed to pour out her confusion to the headmistress.
But Helen was her friend. That was a solid, unalterable fact. She looked at Miss Tavistock and saw a friend also. A fair and kind woman who collected stamps and let the boarders have a dog. She also saw a person who was very clear about what was right and what was wrong. Just as clear as Eliza suddenly was.
Miss Tavistock was watching her steadily. Eliza could sense her thoughts, as she often could with adults: “It is a lot to ask of her, but I trust her to come through.” For an instant they were not an adult and child, but two equals.
Then Eliza answered. “Helen would never steal, Miss Tavistock—she’s honest! I even asked her about the Pound Money once, because of what she told me about coming here. She was really upset I’d suspect her, and she’d never lie to me—I’m her best friend.” She tried to make her eyes wide and innocent, the way Carrie had when she’d lied to Miss Monaghan. “Mrs. Crump doesn’t like Helen. She doesn’t like any of us. I’m sure she made a mistake.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” said the headmistress quietly. “I respect your honesty.”
There was a long silence. Eliza studied Miss Tavistock’s stapler. She had never noticed before exactly how a stapler was constructed. She had also never felt so alone in her life.
Then came the worst part of all. Miss Tavistock sighed and said, “I would like to believe Helen as you do, Elizabeth. But I’m afraid she has fooled you also. The evidence is all against her, and I’m going to have to remove her from the school.”
Eliza leaped to her feet. “No! You can’t do that, Miss Tavistock!”
“Please sit down, Elizabeth, and control yourself. I have no choice. A student who steals and then lies about it is simply too bad an influence. I know this is very painful for you,” she added gently, “because she is your friend. But that is my decision.”
For a few seconds Eliza sat frozen with disbelief. Helen expelled! Then anger swelled in her and she stood up again. “You can’t make Helen leave! This is all she has! She likes it here,” she continued, suddenly realizing that it was true. “She likes it more than any of us, more than I do!” She heard herself beginning to shout. “It’s so unfair! Helen is only twelve, and you’re ruining her life, and you’re wrong, you’re wrong …” Now all she could do was choke back her sobs.
Miss Tavistock stood up too. “Elizabeth, you must not speak to me this way!” Eliza looked at her fuzzily. In the blue eyes she saw a mixture of anger, hurt and sympathy. Miss Tavistock took her by the shoulders and steered her to the door. “You’d better return to the sickroom. You can remain there until you’re ready to apologize.”
Eliza fled. She slammed the sickroom door, threw herself down on a bed and wept bitterly until she could cry no more.
NOW SHE WONDERED indifferently if she would have to live in the sickroom for the rest of the term, for she would never apologize. It didn’t matter if she stayed here—all that mattered was Helen.
Even if she never came back to Ashdown herself, she couldn’t imagine Helen not being here. It was unthinkable. Expulsion was something she’d always heard of but never expected would actually happen to anyone she knew.
She tossed restlessly, wondering if Helen had stolen again. Red licorice was her friend’s passion, and she must have been hungry by the time she had come back to the school.
Was she right to lie so much to defend Helen? Even if she was, it hadn’t done any good. In a book it would have. Miss Tavistock would have been so convinced by Eliza’s loyalty that Helen would have been saved.
She suddenly felt young and weary, too young for all the things everyone expected of her. People like her parents and Miss Tavistock expected her to be truthful. Helen expected her to be loyal. She drew a blanket over her head, curled up into a ball and wished she could run away from all of them, the way she had once in her dream.
Outside the door, a soft melody came from the Blue Sitting Room piano: three notes rising up, then repeated. It sounded so familiar … the Moonlight Sonata.
Creeping to the door, she peeked in. Madeline was sitting at the piano in the corner of the shadowy room. The music stopped, and the dark-haired girl turned to look at her. “I thought that would bring you out. I was going to knock if it didn’t. Come and talk—no one will see us. They’re all singing in the dining room.”
Eliza hadn’t heard them, but now she did. Someone was playing a guitar, and the mournful strains of a folk song floated down the hall: “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child / Long way from ho-ome …” It made her want to cry again. She looked hopelessly at the older girl.
Madeline patted the couch. “Sit down over here, Eliza. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I just wanted to know if I could help.”
“P-please—do you know if Helen’s still here?” Eliza finally stammered.
“She must be—I just saw a tray go into the room she’s in. What on earth is going on? You should hear the rumours! Can you tell me?”
Eliza tried. She didn’t say anything about the earlier stealing episodes, however, or about her lie. Madeline listened to the convoluted story thoughtfully. She was so calm that Eliza felt a tiny bit better.
“It was a crazy risk to take,” she said at the end. “But you know that. Poor Helen. I’m sure she didn’t steal anything. It’s not like Charlie to go as far as expelling her. I’d believe Helen over Crabby Crump any day.”
Eliza was glad she couldn’t tell Madeline about all the other evidence besides Mrs. Crump’s. “She said she would expel her. I got really mad at her. I’m supposed to apologize, but I won’t. And I did something else, too, which I can’t tell you
. It was right—but nobody else would think so, maybe not even you.”
“Nobody’s responsible for your decisions but yourself, Eliza. If you think it was right, then you have to accept it.”
“I guess so,” agreed Eliza sadly.
“You know, you may as well apologize. Why prolong all of this? Helen’s the most important person we have to worry about right now.”
“Oh, Madeline—nothing will ever be the same! I can’t imagine the rest of this term without Helen.”
“Neither can I. She livened everything up. She was a nuisance, but I liked her.”
Eliza couldn’t bear this—they were talking about Helen as if she were dead. She stood up to go, but Madeline stopped her. “I’m sorry, Eliza. It’s terrible, but I can’t think of anything we can do. If I can, I’ll let you know. Maybe Miss Tavistock will change her mind.”
But Eliza knew the headmistress had meant what she said. She appreciated Madeline’s concern, but there really was no way she could help. She felt older, not younger, than the other girl.
Madeline seemed to sense this also. She looked ruefully at Eliza. “Do you remember that talk we had a long time ago, about growing up?”
Eliza nodded miserably.
“Well,” said Madeline, “I think you’ve begun.”
ELIZA SPENT THE NEXT few hours working up the courage to sneak out of the sickroom and try to see Helen. She decided to do it after someone had come to tell her to go to bed, but no one did. The house settled into silence. She had just put on her pyjamas when she was called back into Miss Tavistock’s study.
“I’m sorry I was rude,” Eliza mumbled as soon as she sat down. She wanted to say it before Miss Tavistock asked her to.
“I accept your apology, Elizabeth.” The headmistress sounded sorry herself. Her voice was fairly cheerful, and Eliza watched her suspiciously. Now what was happening? If she thought they could be friends again, she was wrong.
