First term at fernside, p.7
First Term at Fernside, page 7
‘They won’t be ripe for ages anyway,’ Linnet said.
Sadie gave a little squeak. ‘I thought it was only in boys’ schools that they had secret gin distilleries.’
‘Honestly, you two are as bad as each other,’ Babs said. ‘Of course we aren’t having a midnight feast with gin.’
‘Oh. I suppose not.’ Sadie sounded deflated, and Robin couldn’t help seeing that she was walking with less vigour than before.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked quietly.
‘Fine,’ Sadie said, but she grimaced.
‘Look,’ Robin said, ‘I know you don’t like fuss, but shall I quietly go and ask Miss Taylor if we can have a wee rest now and catch them up?
‘How long until we stop for lunch?’
‘Maybe another mile of riverbank,’ Robin calculated, ‘and then a bit of road, and round a field …’ She saw Sadie’s eyes widen. In fact, now Robin looked at her properly, she looked all eyes, burning in a face that was surely paler than when they had set out.
‘It’s too far, isn’t it?’
Sadie bit her lip. ‘Maybe,’ she admitted. ‘But I don’t want Miss Taylor to be cross. She didn’t want me to come, and she’ll say she told me so.’
‘What’s up?’ Babs said, and Linnet looked up from her leaf-gathering.
‘Sadie’s a bit done in,’ Robin said quietly. ‘Sit down, Sadie. There’s a handy log.’
Sadie lowered herself onto a fallen tree and slipped her arms out of her crutches. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute,’ she said.
‘You don’t look as though you will,’ Linnet said.
‘Stay there.’ Robin ran along the path to Miss Taylor. She explained what was wrong. ‘I don’t think she can make it to the Giant’s Ring,’ she said. ‘But she’d hate it if we all turned back because of her.’
‘There’s no question of that.’ Miss Taylor looked searchingly at Robin. ‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have let myself be persuaded against my better judgement. If I give you permission to stay with Sadie, will you bring her safely back to school when she’s rested?’
‘Of course. And Babs and Linnet are with us.’
‘Hmm. I don’t know that Barbara and Linnet are the most trustworthy girls in the lower fourth. Perhaps Mabel …’
‘Please, Miss Taylor. I promise we’ll be angelic and sensible.’
‘Straight back to school after your lunch.’
Robin nodded.
‘And report to Miss Rea if Matron’s still away. I imagine Sadie will need a lie-down.’ She frowned. ‘I blame myself. I should have noticed she was struggling. Now, Robin, you’re in charge. I’m placing quite a trust in you.’
‘I won’t let you down.’ Robin felt very important as she told the others the plan. Sadie protested about missing the Giant’s Ring, but she looked more relieved than anything.
‘I didn’t get to show Miss Taylor my ten leaves,’ Linnet lamented, placing them on the log beside Sadie.
‘What age are you?’ Babs demanded.
‘Twelve,’ Linnet said. ‘Can we have lunch now, Robin?’
At first Robin enjoyed being in charge. They sat on the log and munched cheese sandwiches and threw bits into the river for the ducks. (‘Not ducks,’ Linnet said. ‘Moorhens. And that one’s a little grebe.’) They watched three boys on the far side of the river throw a stick into the water for a little speckled spaniel, which jumped in time and time again, never tiring.
‘That looks like the dog our fathers had when they were boys,’ Linnet said. ‘Dapple. I’ve seen a photograph of him and Daddy often tells me about the things he got up to.’
‘Oh,’ Robin said. ‘I’ve never heard of him.’ Her chest tightened. She had only been six when Father was killed in the war; her memories of him were like old pencil sketches, getting fainter and fainter. The burnt-ash smell of his pipe. The way he called her My wee Robin redbreast when she wore her red frock. The time she cried when he came home on leave because his soldierly moustache made him not look like Father anymore, and he had taken her on his knee and said he would always be Father, even if he had a six-foot long beard, and her sobs had turned to giggles. She had reached up and stroked the moustache, and it had been softer than it looked. She tried, now, to remember exactly how it had felt, but she couldn’t.
Fading sketches. One day, she thought, there would just be a blank page, apart from what other people told her, and that wasn’t the same at all. Like when Miss McWilliams amended your drawing with some of her own lines: it looked much better, but it wasn’t really yours anymore.
‘Do you ever swim in the river?’ Sadie asked.
Robin and Babs shook their heads. ‘Not allowed,’ Robin said. ‘Too many weeds or something.’ She leaned back against the tree and felt the September sun on her face. ‘We should head back,’ she said. ‘It’s a long way home.’
‘I suppose we couldn’t …’ Linnet began.
‘Couldn’t what?’
Linnet indicated Sadie, who had gamely stood up and slipped her crutches on, but who still looked pale. Robin thought of the steep path back to the meadow, the long road back to school, and knew what her cousin meant.
‘Cut through Rowanbank?’ she asked. ‘But it’s out of bounds.’
Linnet shrugged.
‘We’d be very unlucky to meet anyone,’ Babs said. ‘And if we did, one look at Sadie and they’d understand. Can you make yourself look very pathetic, Sadie?’
‘I don’t want to look pathetic!’
‘How much would the short cut save us?’ Linnet asked.
‘It’s less than five minutes down the bank from here,’ Babs said, ‘and then – what, Robin? – five minutes through Rowanbank garden?’
‘Maybe ten,’ Robin said, ‘if it’s still as overgrown. It’s not an easy option, exactly,’ she told Sadie, ‘but it’s much quicker.’
‘And if it’s out of bounds,’ Sadie said hopefully, ‘that would make it an adventure? Like in a school story?’
‘Most definitely,’ Robin said, but she crossed her fingers behind her back. It wasn’t going to be an adventure because they absolutely must not get caught. Not while she was in charge.
Chapter 12
The Forbidden Garden
Miss Rea’s words from Prayers on the first night flashed into Linnet’s brain: Out of Bounds! Strictly Out of Bounds! But compared to the glory of actually being in Rowanbank, that paradise she had imagined she would only ever see from the window, what did a little school rule matter?
Reluctantly, knowing she would only drop them anyway, she left her ten leaves on the log, and set off down the riverbank with the others, excitement catching at her heart. She was going to see Rowanbank! Not from the window, but in real life.
‘Not far now,’ Robin said. ‘There’s a tree stump with a big orange fungus growing out of it, and it’s round the next bend. It’s just a gap between two hedges and you have to breathe in to squeeze through, but you can’t miss it.’
That sounded easy enough and soon Robin cried, ‘There it is! You’ll be home in a few minutes now, Sadie.’
Babs dashed ahead. ‘Sometimes it’s overgrown with brambles,’ she said. ‘If I were the Girl Guide type I would hack them to bits with my trusty penknife, but I’m not, so I can’t. But I can sort of bash them down out of harm’s way.’
‘My crutches would make excellent bramble basher-downers,’ Sadie said.
Babs stopped. Looked at the hedge. Walked on a bit. Turned back, frowning. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said. ‘Look what the beast has done!’
They rushed to see. There was indeed a gap between two hedges, but instead of leading to a lane up through Rowanbank, the space was crisscrossed with strands of very new, very shiny, very jaggy barbed wire. There was no way anyone could get through.
Babs stamped her foot.
Linnet wanted to cry.
Robin looked worried.
Sadie caught her breath, and said in a small voice, ‘If we walk on there must be other gaps and lanes – maybe we’d come out in a street not far from school?’
‘But probably we wouldn’t,’ Babs said. ‘We could end up miles away and lost and much worse off.’
‘I don’t suppose you brought wire-cutters with you?’ Sadie said.
‘Oh! Now you mention it …’ Babs pretended to dig in her pocket.
It took Linnet a moment or two to realise they were joking. They all stared at the wire as if wishing could spirit it away.
‘If we could get rid of the top strand,’ Babs said, ‘I think we could all climb over.’
‘How’s it attached?’ Sadie bent down and peered. ‘It’s wound round this branch,’ she said. ‘It’s tight, but if I undo this bit—’
‘Oh, don’t! You’ll cut yourself to shreds!’ Linnet cried.
‘I think I can wedge the bottom of my crutch in and loosen it, and then we could unwind the top strand and climb over.’
‘You can’t! It’s barbed wire!’
In response, Sadie pulled her gloves out of her pocket. ‘Isn’t it lucky Miss Taylor made us all wear gloves?’
Babs looked at Sadie with respect. ‘Oh! You can have everyone’s gloves!’
‘But we can’t let Sadie take the risk,’ Robin said. ‘I’ll do it.’ And when Sadie opened her mouth to protest, she said, ‘Because you’re new. And I’m in charge. No other reason.’ She pulled on her own gloves and held out her hands for more. In the end she couldn’t fit four pairs of gloves on, but she did manage three.
‘Stand well back,’ Robin said, as she unwound the wire and made it safe. ‘This stuff is deadly.’
Linnet, clumsy with anticipation, wobbled as she clambered over into the lane, but soon they were all safely over, even Sadie.
It wasn’t easy going on the other side. The lane was steep, and so badly overgrown it was like an obstacle course. Brambles scratched their faces, and sticky cleavers caught at their stockings. Babs had to hold on tightly to her spectacles. More than once, Sadie’s crutches snagged on undergrowth. Linnet shrieked when a particularly vicious bramble attacked one of her plaits.
‘Shh,’ Babs said. ‘You’re asking to be caught.’
‘It’s ripped my hair out by the roots!’ Linnet wailed.
‘We’re nearly at the garden,’ Robin assured them. ‘Look how much lighter it is ahead. And then it’s a matter of being quick and keeping out of sight.’
‘Pray Doctor Flynn isn’t doing some gardening,’ Babs said as they finally reached the end of the lane and paused to catch their breath.
‘Well,’ Sadie said, when she had got her breath back, ‘it doesn’t look as though he ever does any gardening. Isn’t it wild!’
Linnet looked – and felt something relax deep inside. She forgot about the danger, forgot that they could get into trouble, forgot that her scalp was burning. Because Rowanbank, this Eden she had been looking at and longing for since arriving at school, was real, and she was right inside it. She leaned against an oak tree, feeling its strength against her back. She touched the cool bark of a rowan tree, and then picked a leaf, marvelling at its bird’s-feather shape. She breathed in all the scents: grass and damp earth and wild roses and somewhere, just at the edge, the riper smell of living creatures. This place must be a haven for foxes and badgers and squirrels and rabbits and hedgehogs. It was everything she had dreamed of – even more.
Out of Bounds – what did that matter?
From somewhere quite close came a frenzied volley of sharp barks, and her heart jumped.
‘Run!’ Babs said. ‘Straight up this path. See the apple trees? Just past them, behind the shrubbery, there’s a gap in the fence. At least’ – her voice faltered – ‘there always used to be.’
We’re going to be caught, Linnet thought as she pounded after Babs, shoving the rowan leaf into her blazer pocket. Behind her, Robin encouraged Sadie: ‘It’s all right, Sadie. I won’t leave you. Go as fast as you can, but don’t run. You don’t want to fall.’
Somehow, they made it through the dense shrubbery to the fence and miraculously, the gap was still there – at least, there were some loose planks that looked normal enough, until Babs slid them back to make a gap they could all crawl through quite easily. They flung themselves into the safety of the school garden, just as the planks slid back into place and the shrubbery behind them crackled with breaking twigs, as if a very large dog was bounding through it.
A man’s voice shouted, ‘Tod! Come back!’
They waited, hardly daring to breathe, for the sound of human footsteps, for a hand to pull open those loose planks and discover them. Or for Tod, who sounded very big and very fierce, to sniff them out and break through the fence.
We need to keep running, Linnet thought, but she couldn’t make her legs move, and it seemed that neither could the others. They all lay flumped against the fence, in a soft bed of feathery ferns, trying not to make a sound. They could see the back of the main school building: the kitchen windows were open, and someone was singing. Fernside House had never, to Linnet, seemed so homely and inviting. For the first time she noticed how warmly its ivy-clad walls glowed in the sun. Oh please, she prayed, let me get safely back to the common room. I’ll never break bounds again.
Won’t you? asked a voice in her head. How can you bear not to, now that you’ve stepped inside Rowanbank?
More crashing around in the bushes behind them. More wild barking. A strange rattling, creaking, squeaking noise – and then everything went still.
Babs recovered first. She stood up and stretched. ‘That was a damned close-run thing,’ she said in a comical voice, but with a tiny wobble in it, as if she was trying extra-hard.
‘What was that noise?’ Robin asked. ‘Like a – I don’t know – a rusty bike?’
‘All I heard was the Hound of the Baskervilles,’ Sadie said. She looked round them all. ‘We’ll need to sneak into the cloakrooms and tidy ourselves before we see anyone,’ she said. ‘Linnet – your hair!’
Linnet reached for her plaits and felt only a tangle of loose hair. She sighed. ‘I don’t know where my ribbons are,’ she said. ‘Somewhere in that jungle. Oh, Robin! They were the ones you gave me. I’m sorry.’
‘Would you like to go back for them?’ Babs suggested.
Linnet shrieked. ‘No, I would not! How can you? Oh, you’re joking?’
Babs nodded. Her own fair bob was not as neat as usual, and all four girls were baggy and plucked in the stocking department. Robin had a long scratch across her chin, and Sadie’s hands were blistered – too much time working her crutches, Linnet guessed.
Robin held out a hand and helped Sadie up, and then Linnet. They started to trudge up the garden.
‘How are we going to cover this up?’ Babs asked. ‘Because if we don’t, we’ll be grounded forever.’
‘We could say we tore our stockings in the meadow,’ Sadie suggested. ‘Say we tried to take a short cut through and hit a rough patch.’
‘But that would be a lie!’ Robin sounded shocked, and Babs gave her a scornful look. ‘Miss Taylor said we had to report to Miss Rea anyway,’ Robin said, ‘so maybe we should just tell the truth? If we don’t, and then we’re found out, we’ll be in even worse trouble.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Sadie said. ‘Anything for a bit of fun.’
‘Sadie, it’s your first day. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Getting into trouble isn’t remotely fun.’ Robin sounded cross and grown-up.
On and on they bickered as they wound their way up the garden, doing their best to keep to the trees and shrubs so they were less likely to be spotted. Linnet stopped listening. She pushed a hand into her pocket and felt the rowan leaf she had stuffed there for safekeeping. She didn’t really care what they did – because she knew that, whatever the consequences, she would return to Rowanbank.
Chapter 13
Waiting for the Sword to Fall
Robin could hardly eat her tea, even though Saturday’s menu – beef rissoles followed by jam roly-poly – was her favourite. She might have slipped her plate to Babs to let her take what she wanted, but, without having exactly quarrelled, she wasn’t feeling very friendly towards Babs.
When Miss Rea stood up at the end of the meal and said she had something important to say, she steeled herself for the inevitable: It has come to my intention that some girls have been trespassing in Rowanbank.
But all she said was that everyone must sign the church lists before seven o’clock and ensure their Sunday coats and hats were properly brushed.
In the end, Robin had been overruled.
While she, Linnet and Sadie had been trudging up the drive, Babs had simply stalked on ahead.
‘I’m fed up with your bickering,’ she said. ‘I’m going to report to Miss Rea.’
‘And she didn’t suspect a thing,’ she had crowed, coming to find them in the cloakroom. ‘I said you’d taken Sadie upstairs to rest, and she said she would see us all at tea. She congratulated us for getting home so promptly. I didn’t have to say a syllable about where we’d actually been. So, all that goody-goody fussing of yours was for nothing.’
You couldn’t share your jam roly-poly with a girl who accused you of goody-goody fussing. And besides, Robin didn’t believe it would be all right. All the next day – and Sundays were endless at school, with compulsory church in the morning and then quiet pursuits all day – and into the next week, she expected trouble to catch her.
When Sadie tripped on her way out of the dorm on Monday morning, she waited, heart pounding, for her to fall and not get up, for Matron to say Sadie was dangerously ill, and it could only be Robin’s fault. (Sadie, in fact, laughed and steadied herself and said she’d have to keep away from the sloe gin, which made Evangeline shriek and Matron descend like a Fury.)
