Читать книгу In the Fifth at Malory Towers - Enid blyton - Страница 6

Table of Contents

Darrell found time that first evening to make sure that her young sister was not being whisked off by June, Alicia’s thirteen-year-old cousin in the first form. To her relief she saw that Felicity was arm-in-arm with Susan, her friend of the term before.

June was standing alone, on the edge of the little crowd of first-formers. She had a most determined look on her face, and Darrell wondered what she was thinking of. “She is certainly planning something,” thought Darrell. “Well, so long as she leaves Felicity out of her plans, she can do what she likes! How I do dislike that child!”

The fifth-formers went to bed a quarter of an hour after the fourth-formers. It was grand having just fifteen minutes more. They chattered as they undressed, and speculated on all sorts of things in the coming term.

“I shall miss having Miss Williams to teach us,” said Sally, who had liked the fourth-form mistress very much. “I wonder if ...”

The dormitory door opened and a face looked in. It was Connie, Ruth’s twin.

“Ruth! Are you all right?” she said. “It’s queer not being with you. Are you managing all right? Did you find your ...”

“Connie!” exploded Alicia. “What do you mean by coming into the fifth dormy when you’re jolly well supposed to be in bed? Clear out.”

Connie stood in the doorway obstinately. She was a great one for arguing. “I only just came to see if Ruth was all right,” she said. “We’ve never been parted before, and ...”

“Clear out!” yelled everyone

“Clear out!” yelled everyone, and Irene brandished her hair-brush fiercely, almost knocking Belinda’s eye out.

But still Connie held her ground. Her eyes searched Ruth’s face, which was also wearing an obstinate look. “Ruth,” began Connie, urgently. “Do say something. Don’t stand there like that. I only just came to ...”

“Clear out!” said Ruth, and everyone stood silent in astonishment. Nobody had expected that. Ruth had been such a shadow that, even when she had begun to assert herself a little the term before, no one had ever thought she could possibly order Connie about.

“I know you’re my twin and we’ve always been together,” said Ruth, in an unnecessarily loud voice. “But I’m in the fifth now and you’re in the fourth. You can’t come tagging after a fifth-former, you know that. Leave me alone and clear out!”

Only Ruth could defeat Connie, and make her go. Connie gaped, then turned and went without a word. Ruth sat down suddenly on her bed.

“Good for you!” said Darrell, warmly. “You’ll have to stand up for yourself a bit, Ruth, or you’ll have Connie pestering you again and again.”

“I know,” said Ruth in a small voice. “But I’m—I’m awfully fond of her, you know—I hated saying that. But she would never take any notice of anyone else. And after all—I can’t let her hang on to the fifth, can I? Poor Connie.”

“Not ‘poor’ at all,” said Darrell. “And don’t you believe it. She’s got the cheek of a dozen! She won’t give up easily, either—she’ll keep on trying to tag on to you and to us.”

“Quite right,” said Alicia, in a voice not loud enough for Ruth to hear. “Connie’s so thick-skinned she wants a whole lot of pummelling and shouting at before she feels or understands what we’re getting at!”

“I’ve got a sister like that in the fourth,” said Moira, unexpectedly joining in. “A tough nut if ever there was one. She’s like a rubber ball—if you sit on her and squash her flat she bounces back to shape again immediately. Awful kid.”

“What’s her name?” said Darrell. “Oh, wait a bit—is it Bridget?”

“Yes,” said Moira. “She and Connie would make a pair!”

“Well, let’s hope Connie and she will get together!” said Alicia. “Nice pair they’d make—rub each other’s corners off a bit!”

Soon they were all in bed. Darrell was next to Maureen. She said good night to the new girl, and to Sally who was on the other side of her, and shut her eyes. Her bed was harder than at home but she knew she would soon get used to that. She threw off her eiderdown after a bit. It was such a warm night. She heard a sniff from the next bed.

“Gosh—it can’t be Maureen sniffing like any first-former,” thought Darrell, in surprise. She turned over and listened.

“Sniff, sniff!” yes, there it was again.

“Maureen! What on earth’s the matter?” whispered Darrell. “Surely you’re not a first-night sniffer? At your age?”

Maureen’s voice came shakily to Darrell. “I’m always like this at first. I think of Mother and Daddy and what they’re doing at home. I’m sensitive, you know.”

“Better get over being sensitive then,” said Darrell, shortly. In her experience people who went round saying that they were sensitive wanted a good shaking up, and, if they were lower school, needed to be laughed out of it.

“But you can’t help being it, if you are,” sniffed Maureen.

“Oh, I know—but you can help talking about it!” said Darrell. “Do go to sleep. I can’t bear to hear you sniffing as if you wanted a hanky and haven’t got one.”

Maureen felt that Darrell was very unkind. She wished there was someone in the bed the other side of her—someone more sympathetic. But the bed was empty. It was Gwendoline’s and she hadn’t yet come back.

Darrell grinned to herself in the darkness. If only they could wish Maureen on to Gwen! Maureen was very like Gwen to look at, and had the same silly weak nature, apparently. How marvellous if they could push her on to Gwen, and see what happened!

“You wait till Gwendoline Mary comes back tomorrow,” said Darrell wickedly to Maureen. “She’s just your sort. She’s sensitive, too. I’m sure she’ll understand all you feel. She hates first nights still. You look out for her tomorrow, Maureen, she’s just your sort, I should think.”

Sally, who was in the next bed, listening, gave a little snort of laughter. How mad Gwen would be to have someone else like her in the form, someone who thought themselves too wonderful for words, and who wanted admiration and sympathy all the time! How wicked of Darrell to be pushing Maureen on to Gwen already—but how altogether suitable!

“No more talking,” said Moira’s voice, out of the darkness. “Time’s up now.”

The old fourth-formers resented this sudden command. Moira wasn’t head-girl—not yet, anyway! Nothing official had been said about it. Nobody said any more but there were various “Poohs” and “Pishes” from several beds. Still, they were all tired, and nobody except Maureen really wanted to keep awake.

There were a few more sniffs from Maureen’s bed and then silence. Irene began to snore a little. She always did when she lay on her back. Belinda, who was in the next bed, leaned over and gave her a hard poke to make her turn over. Irene obediently shifted on to her side without even waking up. Belinda had got her well-trained by now!

Connie actually appeared at the door again in the morning, looking belligerent and obstinate.

“You still there?” said Alicia. “Been standing there all night long, I suppose, wondering if Ruth was having a nice beauty sleep or not!”

“There’s no rule against my coming here in the morning to ask a question, is there?” said Connie. “Don’t be so beastly, Alicia. I’ve only come to give Ruth a pair of stockings that got into my case.”

“Thanks,” said Ruth, and took them. Connie straightened one or two things on Ruth’s dressing-table. Ruth immediately put them crooked again. “It’s no good, Connie,” she said. “Leave me alone. I’m in the fifth now, I tell you.”

“I never thought you’d crow over me if I was left behind,” said Connie, looking suddenly bewildered.

“I’m not. Do go away,” said Ruth, in a low voice, knowing that everyone in the room was intensely interested in this little battle, although most of the girls were pretending not to notice. Darrell had managed to stop Alicia from interfering. Let Ruth manage the fight herself!

Moira suddenly spoke. “Will you take this book to my sister Bridget?” she said, in her abrupt voice. She held out a small book. “She’s in the fourth, too—came up from the third this term. I expect you’ve spoken to her already.”

“Yes, I have,” said Connie. “I’ll give her the book.”

She took it, and went out of the room without another look at Ruth. Darrell glanced at Ruth. She was looking rather miserable. What a shame it was that Connie should force her into such a difficult position! How could anyone be as thick-skinned as that twin!

The breakfast-bell went. Maureen gave a wail. “Oh, I say—is that the bell again? I was thinking I was still at Mazeley Manor—the bell didn’t go till much later! I shall be late!”

“We’re going to hear rather a lot about Mazeley Manor, I’m afraid,” said Darrell in Sally’s ear, as they went downstairs.

“Perhaps Gwen will hear it all instead,” said Sally. “That’s your plan, isn’t it? The thing is—will Gwen be in the fifth? She failed the School Cert., too, you know. She may be kept down in the fourth with Connie.”

“Oh no—surely not!” said Darrell. “She’s too old. She’s above the average age even of the fifth, by a few months. After all, Connie’s well below it—so it doesn’t much matter for her.”

They asked Mam’zelle at breakfast-time about Gwen.

“Will she be in the fifth with us?” said Darrell.

“Yes, yes,” said Mam’zelle. “Of course! It is true she failed, the poor child, in this terrible examination of yours—but she was ill. Yes, she had a bad heart, poor Gwendoline.”

The fifth-formers nudged one another. Gwen’s bad heart! Gwen had produced a heart that fluttered and palpitated, in order to get out of doing the exam—but nobody had believed in it except Mam’zelle. And Gwen had had to do the exam after all, and had failed.

“Well, heart or no heart, apparently she’s in the fifth with us,” said Alicia. “Dear Gwendoline Mary—what a treat to have her back with us today!”