Читать книгу Claudine at St. Clare's - Enid blyton - Страница 7

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About the third week of the term, when every one had settled down, and got into their work, Angela had a surprise.

She had been playing tennis, and one of the balls had been lost. “Don’t let’s bother to look for it now,” said Bobby, who hated to stop in the middle of a game. “It’s sure to turn up. Tennis balls always do. If it doesn’t we’ll look for it afterwards.”

The ball hadn’t turned up, and Angela had offered to look for it. The others had music-lessons to go to, or elocution practice. Angela was the only one free.

“All right,” said Hilary. “Thanks, Angela. You look for the ball, and pop it back into the box with the others if you find it.”

The other three girls ran back to the school, and Angela began to look for the lost ball. It was nowhere to be seen. The court they had been playing on backed on to a high wall, and Angela wondered if the ball could possibly have gone over it.

“I remember Bobby sending a pretty high ball once,” she thought to herself. “Well, it doesn’t seem to be this side of the wall—so I’ll just slip out of the garden gate here and look in the lane.”

The girl opened the gate and went out into the narrow green lane. She looked about for the ball, and at last saw it. As she went to get it, she gave a start of surprise. A tall, rather thin youth was behind the bush near the ball.

Angela picked up the ball and was about to go back into the school grounds when the boy spoke to her.

“I say—do you belong to St. Clare’s?”

Angela looked at him and didn’t like him. He had hair that was curly, and much too long. His eyes were small and puffy underneath, and he was very pale.

“What business is it of yours whether I belong to St. Clare’s or not?” said Angela, in her haughtiest voice.

“Now look here—don’t go all stuffy and stupid,” said the boy, coming out from behind the bush. “I just want a word with you.”

“Well, I don’t want a word with you,” said Angela, and she opened the garden gate. The boy tried to stop her going through.

“Wait a bit,” he said, and his voice sounded so urgent that Angela turned round in surprise. “I want you to take a message to one of the girls for me,” he said.

“Let me pass, please. You deserve to be reported for this.”

“Of course I shan’t do that,” said Angela. “Let me pass, please. You deserve to be reported for this.”

“Listen. You tell Eileen that Eddie wants to see her,” said the boy. “Wait—I’ve got a note for her. Will you give it to her?”

“Oh—so you’re Eileen’s brother, are you?” said Angela. “All right—I’ll give her the note. But I can’t think why you don’t come right in and see your mother and Eileen too, if you want to. Your mother is Matron here, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Eddie. “But for goodness’ sake don’t go and tell my mother you’ve seen me. She doesn’t know I’m here. I’d get into an awful row with her if she knew I was.”

“Your mother gets lots of people into rows beside you!” said Angela, taking the note.

The girl went through the gate and shut it. Then she stuffed the note into the pocket of her blazer, meaning to give it to Eileen when she saw her.

Eileen was not about when Angela went back to the cloakroom to change her shoes. The girl saw Alison there and began to tell her what had happened.

“I say, Alison!” she said, “A funny thing happened just now. I went out into the lane to look for a tennis ball, and there was a boy there, hiding.”

“Gracious!” said Alison, startled. “What did you do?”

“He was an awful creature,” said Angela, beginning to exaggerate, as she usually did when she had a tale to tell. “Honestly, he looked like the boy who brings the fish here every day—you know, that awful boy with the too-long hair and the piercing whistle! I half expected him to say ‘I’ve brought the ’addock and ’ake and ’alibut, miss!’ like the fish-boy said to Matron the other day, thinking she was the cook.”

Alison laughed. So did one or two other girls in the cloakroom. Angela loved an admiring audience. She went on with her tale, not seeing that Eileen had come in to put away gym. shoes.

“Well, he asked me if I belonged to St. Clare’s, and I put him properly in his place, you may be sure! And then he told me who he was. You’ll never guess!”

The girls crowded round her in interest. “Who?” said Alison. “How should we know who it was?”

“Well, it was dear, darling wonderful Eddie, Eileen’s big brother!” said Angela. “As common as could be! I nearly asked him why he didn’t get his hair cut!”

Some one elbowed her way roughly through the group round Angela. It was Eileen, her cheeks scarlet. She glared at Angela.

“You frightful fibber!” she said. “My brother’s nowhere near St. Clare’s! How dare you make up a story like that—I shall go and tell my mother at once—you hateful, horrid little snob!”

She burst into tears and went out of the door. The girls stared after her.

“I say!” said Alison, “she really will go to Matron—and there’s sure to be a row. You didn’t make it up, did you, Angela?”

Angela raised her voice and shouted after Eileen. “Well, go and tell if you like—but your darling Eddie begged and begged me not to let your mother know he was here. So you are just as likely to get him into a row, as me!”

Eileen turned round, looking scared. It was plain that she now believed what Angela said. It had been Eddie!

“What did he say to you?” she asked Angela, in a strangled voice. “Did he want to see me?”

“Shan’t tell you,” said Angela, in an irritating voice. “I was going to do you a good turn and give you his message—but if you behave like this I’m jolly well not going to be a go-between for you and dear, darling Eddie!”

Just at that very thrilling moment Miss Ellis put her head in at the door, looking most annoyed.

“Girls! Didn’t you hear the bell? What in the world are you doing, chattering here in the cloakroom? You know that isn’t allowed. Really, I do wish you fourth-formers would realize that you are half-way up the school and not in the first form! I am most annoyed at having to come and fetch you.”

“Sorry, Miss Ellis,” said every one, and hurried to go out of the cloakroom back to the classroom, where they had prep to do. Certainly they had heard the bell—but who could tear themselves away when a first-class quarrel was going on between the angelic Angela, and the unpopular Eileen?

Angela felt delighted when she sat down at her desk. Now she had Eileen exactly where she wanted her—under her thumb! And if Eileen ever told tales of her again and got Matron to give her heaps of mending to do, she, Angela, would threaten to tell Matron about dear Eddie! Angela smiled a secret smile to herself, which made her look more like an angel than ever. It was extraordinary how Angela could look so innocently beautiful when she was thinking spiteful thoughts!

Eileen saw the secret smile. She pursed her lips together and ground her teeth. She hated Angela bitterly in that moment, with as deep a hatred as the love she had for Eddie. How dared Angela call Eddie common? How dared she say he was like that horrid little fishmonger’s boy, with his long, greasy hair and shrill whistle?

To Eileen her brother Edgar was the most wonderful being in the world. Their father had died when they were both very young, and their mother was a hard and stern woman. The little girl had turned to her big brother for love and companionship, and the boy had guarded and cherished his sister tenderly.

“As soon as I grow up, I’ll get a fine job, and make heaps of money for you and Mother,” he told Eileen. “Then Mother won’t need to work so hard and be so tired and cross, and you shall have lots of nice presents. You’ll see what wonderful things I’ll do!”

And now Angela had poured scorn on to darling, kind Eddie. Eileen felt as if she must burst with anger and tears. She was very anxious too. Why had Eddie left Woolaton, where he worked, and come to see her secretly? What had happened? Oh, if only that beast of an Angela would tell her!

Eileen thought of Eddie out there in the lane. She had not seen him for some weeks, and she was longing to talk to him and tell him everything. Perhaps he felt the same and had got some time off to slip along and see her. Perhaps he didn’t want to come up to the school, because then he would have to see Mother too, and that would spoil the heart-to-heart talk they might have together.

Eileen looked at Angela. The girl was studying her French book, looking serene and lovely. Eileen gritted her teeth again, knowing that she would soon have to do something very difficult, something she would hate, and which yet would have to be done gracefully.

“I’ll have to go and beg Angela’s pardon and ask her to tell me what Eddie said,” thought Eileen. “Beast! I do hate her!”

She gave a loud sigh. Miss Ellis looked up. She had already seen that Eileen was making no attempt at all to do her prep.

“Eileen, don’t you feel well?” she inquired. “As far as I can see you haven’t done any work at all.”

“I’m all right, thank you, Miss Ellis,” said Eileen hurriedly. “This—this French is a bit difficult today, that’s all.”

“I should think it must be very difficult to learn your French out of your geography book,” said Miss Ellis in her calm voice. Eileen looked hurriedly down at her book—dash—it was her geography book she was holding! Trust the sharp eyes of Miss Ellis to spot that!

She said nothing, but got out her French book. Angela looked round and gave a scornful little smile. She knew quite well why it was that Eileen muddled her books just then—she was worried about dear darling Eddie. Well—let her worry!

Alison sat next to Eileen, and she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. Although she was such a little scatter-brain, Alison was sensitive to the feelings of others, and she knew that Eileen was desperately longing to know about Eddie. So, after prep was over she went to Angela and spoke to her.

“I say, Angela—hadn’t you better tell Eileen her brother’s message? She’s in an awful state. She sighed so hard in prep that she almost blew my papers off the desk!”

Angela was not amused at Alison’s feeble little joke, neither did she like her giving her advice of any sort. She turned away, and Alison’s heart sank. Now Angela was going to go all cold and sulky again. The beautiful little face was hard and haughty, and Alison knew it would be ages before she could get a smile out of her again.

She was just going after her when Eileen came up, a forced smile on her face. “Angela! Can I speak to you for a minute? Alone, please?”