Malory Towers - In The Fifth At Malory Towers Part 5

June took the paper sulkily. She glanced at it. Darrell had written: 'Learn three sonnets of Shakespeare's, and say them to me or one of the other fifth-formers before Tuesday.'

June scowled. 'I can't do this,' she said. I've got something to learn for Alicia this week. I can't do both.'

'I'm afraid you'll have to,' said Darrell. 'I suppose you cheeked Alicia again. Well, we won't have it. If you don't learn manners now, and respect for your elders, you never will. You say those sonnets to me before Tuesday!'

She went off with Felicity. 'June's awful,' remarked Felicity. 'If only she wasn't so frightfully funny sometimes, I honestly would never speak to her. Nor would Susan. But she plays such idiotic tricks. She's playing one tomorrow on Mam'zelle Dupont.'

'What is it?' asked Darrell, with interest. 'I shouldn't have thought there were any tricks left to play on poor old Mam'zelle.'

'Well, there are - and June plays them,' said Felicity. 'And when I see Mam'zelle's face I laugh till I cry.'

'Yes, I know - I've laughed till I've ached too, sometimes,' said Darrell, remembering some of the jokes she and her form had played at times. 'What's June playing at tomorrow?'

'Oh, Darrell,' said Felicity, beginning to giggle as she thought of it. 'She's got a kind of flat balloon arrangement - well, she's got four, in fact. And you put one under your blouse at the back and another in your front, and another under your skirt at the back, and the last one in front.'

Darrell chuckled. 'Go on. I can guess what happens.'

'Well, June showed us,' said Felicity, beginning to laugh helplessly. 'All the balloons are joined together by little tubes - and there's an inflator you press to fill them and a deflator you pull out to empty them. When she pressed the inflator she swelled up, you see, and she looked simply frightful. Oh, dear - I laughed so much I couldn't sit in my chair.'

Darrell laughed, too. 'Well, that's a new trick, certainly! I wish we'd had it when we were in the first form. Where does June get these tricks from? Alicia always got them from her brothers.'

'Oh, June gets advertis.e.m.e.nt booklets sent her from the firms that make conjuring tricks and funny tricks,' said Felicity. 'I think she must spend all her pocket money on them.'

'It wouldn't be a bad idea to have a spot of conjuring in our pantomime,' said Darrell, thoughtfully. 'Alicia is awfully good at conjuring. Yes - I'll put a conjurer into the pantomime - it shall be Alicia! If you can borrow that book - or however many she's got - from June, I'd like to look through them.'

'Right. But I won't tell her you want it,' said Felicity. 'You'll be mud to her now, after giving her those sonnets to learn. June's doing the trick tomorrow morning at twelve in French Dictee, Darrell. You're not free by any chance, are you? If so, couldn't you come along with some message for Mam'zelle, or something, and see June swell up? You'll know when it's happening because I expect we'll shriek with laughter.'

Darrell pondered. She had put that period aside to get on with the draft of the pantomime. Until she had worked out the characters they could not be chosen, so it was important to get on with it. But how could she resist the chance of slipping down to see Mam'zelle's face?

'Well, I'll come if I can,' she promised.

But when twelve o'clock came next morning Darrell was called to talk to Matron about some missing socks. Matron always went into matters of this sort very thoroughly indeed, and it was twenty minutes before Darrell was free.

'I wonder what's happened down in the first form?' she thought, feeling rather guilty at her interest in something such babies did. 'I wonder if the trick's been played?'

It had. June, who always had to sit in one of the front desks, so as to be under every mistress's eye, had inflated herself very successfully indeed. She did it gradually, so that when Mam'zelle kept looking at her to see that she was getting on with the dictation, she did not at first notice anything.

However, she certainly began to seem a little on the plump side after a bit. Mam'zelle pondered over it. 'That child, June - she gets fat. Maybe a little fat will do her good. She is too restless - a truly difficult girl. Now, fat girls are not usually difficult - an interesting point.'

She glanced at June again and got rather a shock. Why, the child was positively bloated! She stared at June fixedly. One or two of the girls felt such a desire to laugh that it was agony to keep their faces straight.

June wrote steadily on. 'June!' said Mam'zelle, sharply. 'Are you holding your breath?'

June looked innocently at Mam'zelle. 'Holding my breath?' she said, with wide eyes. 'No. Why should I? But I will if you want me to, Mam'zelle. I can hold it for a long time.'

She blew out her cheeks and held her breath. The inflator worked marvellously. She swelled visibly, and Mam'zelle stared in alarm.

'No, no - let out your breath, June. You will burst. What is happening to you?'

June let out her breath with a loud hissing noise, and at the same time pulled the deflator. She deflated at once - and it looked exactly as if it was because she had let out her breath. Mam'zelle was most relieved to see her become her right size again.

'It was rather nice, holding my breath like that,' said June, foreseeing a very nice little game of holding her breath and inflating herself, and letting it out and deflating at the same time.

To Mam'zelle's horror she breathed in again, blew out her cheeks and held her breath - and visibly, before Mam'zelle's alarmed gaze, she inflated till she looked really monstrous. Mam'zelle started up from her seat.

'Never have I seen such a thing!' she said, wildly. 'June, je vous prie - I beg you, do not hold your breath in this manner. You will burst.'

The whole cla.s.s burst at that moment. It was impossible to hold their laughter in any longer. June let out her breath and deflated rapidly.

'Don't, don't, June!' gasped Felicity, rolling about in her chair. 'Oh don't do it again.'

But June did, and Mam'zelle watched wildly whilst she swelled up once more. 'Monstrous!' she cried. 'June, I beg of you once more. Do not hold your breath again. See how it swells you up, poor child.'

And then something went wrong with the deflator! It wouldn't work. June pulled it frantically, but it wouldn't deflate the fat balloons under her clothes. She sat there, pulling wildly at the string fastened to the deflator. It came off!

Mam'zelle was almost in tears. 'This poor June! Children, children, how can you laugh? It is no laughing matter. I go, to get help. Matron must come. Be still, June. Do not burst.'

She hurried out, wringing her hands. June looked decidedly alarmed. 'I say! The beastly thing's gone wrong. I can't let Matron see me like this. I'd get an awful wigging. What can I do?'

Darrell had just arrived at the door at the moment that Mam'zelle rushed out, looking frantic. She had pushed by Darrell without even seeing her. Darrell looked in at the open door.

She saw the monstrous June. Felicity saw Darrell as an angel in disguise. 'Darrell! The deflator's gone wrong! Mam'zelle's gone to get Matron. Quick, what can we do?'

'Get a pin, idiot,' said Darrell. 'Stick it into June and she'll go pop and subside. Then you'd better get her out of that arrangement quickly, because Matron will certainly do some exploring.'

A pin was produced. Felicity dug it into the four swellings and they each went off with a loud Pop! June became her own size and shape at once. She began to pull everything out, frantically and wildly. She was frightened now.

She got the rubber balloons out at last and put them into her desk, just as footsteps were heard down the corridor. Darrell slipped out, finding it difficult not to dissolve into laughter. How she would have loved to see Mam'zelle's face when she first saw June swelling up!

Mam'zelle was alone, looking rather subdued. She hurried by Darrell and came to the first form. She went in and gazed at June.

'Ah - so - you are flat now! I told Matron about you and she laughed at me. She said it was a treek. A TREEK! What is this awful, horrible, abominable treek? I will find it. I will seek it. I will hunt for it in every desk in the room. Ahhhhhhhh!'

Mam'zelle looked so fierce as she stood there that n.o.body dared to say a word. June began to wish she had left the balloons in her clothes. If Mam'zelle did look in her desk she would certainly find them.

Mam'zelle found them. She lifted up the lid and saw the rubber balloons at once, flat and torn. She picked them out and shook them in June's face. 'Ah, now you can hold your breath again, you bad, wicked June! Hold your breath and listen to what I have to say! You will learn for me one hundred lines of French poetry before Tuesday. Yes, one hundred lines! Does that make you hold your breath, you bad girl?'

It certainly did. June already had two lots of English lines to learn - now she had a hundred French ones to add to the lot. She groaned.

Mam'zelle rummaged further in the desk. She took out some booklets and looked at them.

'New treeks. Old treeks. Treeks to play on your friends. Treeks to play on your enemies,' she read. 'Aha! These I will take from you, June. You shall do no more treeks this term. These I will confiscate, and I do not think you shall have them back. No!'

She put the booklets with her books on the desk, and, very grim and determined, went on with the French Dictee. The cla.s.s soon recovered and longed for the last bell to go, so that they might laugh once again to their heart's content.

Mam'zelle said a sharp good morning when the bell went, and went off with the rubber balloons, the booklets about tricks, and her own books. She sat down in the room she shared with Miss Potts, the house-mistress of North Tower.

'You look hot and bothered, Mam'zelle,' said Miss Potts, sympathetically.

'Ah - this June - she swells up like a frog - under my eyes!' began Mam'zelle, fiercely, swelling up too. Then she saw Miss Potts' astonished look, and she smiled suddenly. She opened her mouth and laughed. She rolled in her seat and roared.

'Oh, these treeks! One of these days I too will play a treek. It shall be superbe, magnifique, merveilleuse. Ha, one day I too will play a treek!'

10 IN THE COMMON-ROOM.

DARRELL told Alicia about June's idiotic trick. Alicia laughed. 'It's in the family, isn't it! I and my brothers are trick-mad, and now June, my cousin, is going the same way. It's a pity we're in the fifth. I feel it wouldn't be very dignified to play any of our tricks now.'

Darrell sighed. 'Yes, I suppose you're right. Growing-up has its drawbacks, and that's one of them. We have to be dignified and give up some of our silly ideas - but oh, Alicia, I wish you could have seen June all blown up - honestly it was as good as any of your tricks!'

'It's a pity that cousin of mine is such a hard and brazen little wretch,' said Alicia. 'I don't actually feel she's afraid of anything - except perhaps my brother Sam. The odd thing is she simply adores him, though he's given her some first-cla.s.s spankings, and won't stand a sc.r.a.p of nonsense from her when she comes to stay.'

'You can't seem to get at her, somehow,' said Darrell. 'I mean - she doesn't seem to care. Well - she's a bit like you, you know, Alicia - though you're a lot better now!'

Alicia went rather pink. 'All right. Don't rub it in. I know I'm hard, but you won't make me any better by telling me! You've probably not noticed it but I have tried to be more sympathetic with fools and donkeys! Of course, not being either yourself you've had no chance of seeing it.'

Darrell laughed. She slipped her arm through Alicia's. 'You're a bit of a donkey yourself,' she said. 'But there's one thing about you that sticks out a mile - and that is your absolute straightness - and I don't feel that about June. Do you? I feel it about my sister Felicity - you could trust her anywhere at any time - but not June. There's something sly about her as well as hard.'

'Well, we'll have to lick her into shape whilst we're still at Malory Towers,' said Alicia. 'We've got two more years to do it in - and then off we go to college - leaving kids like June and Felicity behind to carry on!'

June arrived in the fifth-form common-room on Tuesday evening to say her lines to Alicia and Darrell. She looked very sulky. The girls, who were most of them busy with odd jobs such as darning, making out lists, rewriting work, writing letters home and so on, looked up as June strode into the room.

'Don't you know that a lower school kid knocks before she comes in?' said Moira.

June said nothing, but glowered.

'Go out, knock and wait till you're told to come in,' ordered Moira, in her dictatorial voice. June hesitated. She detested being ordered about.

Moira felt in her pocket for her little Punishment Book, and June fled. She didn't want any more lines!

'I never knew anyone who so badly needed licking into shape,' said Moira, grimly. 'Little toad! I know she's your cousin, Alicia, but she's no credit to you!'

'I can't say your sister Bridget is much credit to you either,' retorted Alicia. She didn't particularly want to defend June, but she resented Moira's high and mighty manner. Let her look after her own bad-mannered sister!

'June's knocked twice already,' said Catherine. 'Oughtn't we to say "come in"?'

'When I say so,' said Moira. 'Do her good to wait.'

June knocked again. 'Come in,' said Moira, and June came in, red and furious. She went to Darrell and silently gave her the book out of which she had learnt her lines.

'Repeat them to me,' said Darrell. June gabbled them off without a single mistake. Darrell looked at her. She really was very like Alicia - and she had Alicia's marvellous memory, too. No doubt it had taken June only about five minutes to memorize that long poem.

She went to Alicia, and gabbled off what she had learnt for her, again with no mistake. 'Right,' said Alicia. 'You can go - and if you don't want to spend the whole of this term learning lines, try to be more civil to your elders.'

June scowled. Belinda whipped out her pencil.

'Hold it!' she said to the surprised June. 'Yes - just like that - mouth down, brows frowning, surly expression. Hold it, hold it! I want it for my Scowl Book. It's called "How to Scowl", and it's really interesting. You should see some of the scowls I've got!'

Moira and Gwendoline, who knew they had contributed to this unique book, immediately scowled with annoyance, and then straightened their faces at once in case Belinda saw them. Blow Belinda! One couldn't even scowl in peace with her around.

June stood still, scowling even more fiercely. 'Done?' she said at last. 'Well, I wish you joy of all your scowls - I'll be willing to come along and offer you a good selection any time you like. It's an easy thing to do when any fifth - former is around.'

She stalked off, feeling in her pocket for the lines she had learnt for Mam'zelle. They hadn't really taken her very long. Thank goodness for a parrot memory! June had only to read lines through once, saying them out loud, to know them. Others with less good memories envied her tremendously. It didn't seem fair that June, who tried so little, could do such good work, and that they, who tried so hard, very often only produced bad or ordinary work!

'Blow!' said Irene, suddenly, putting down her pencil. She had been composing a little galloping tune, the one that had been in her head for some time after she had heard the galloping hooves of the horses in the drive. 'I'm just nicely in the middle of this tirretty-too tune - and I've just remembered it's my turn to do the flowers in the cla.s.sroom. I ought to go and pick them before it's quite dark.'

'Let me go,' said Catherine, putting down her darning. 'I'll be pleased to do it for you. You're such a genius, Irene - you just go on with your tune. I'm only an ordinary mortal - no gifts at all - and it's a pleasure to do what little I can.'

She smiled her beaming smile, and Irene felt slightly sick. Everyone was getting tired of Catherine and her martyr-like ways. She was always putting herself out for someone, offering to do the jobs n.o.body else wanted to do, belittling herself, and praising others extravagantly.

'No thanks,' said Irene, shortly. 'It's my job and I must do it.'

'How like you to feel like that!' gushed Catherine. 'Well - I'm quite busy darning Gwendoline's stocking, so if you really wouldn't like me to do the flowers for you, I'll . . .'

But Irene was gone. She slammed the door and n.o.body except Catherine minded. They all felt like slamming the door themselves.

'I do think Irene might have said thank you,' said Catherine, in rather a hurt voice. 'Don't you, Maureen?'

Maureen felt that everyone was waiting to pounce on her if she dared to say 'yes'. Irene was so very popular. She was hesitating how to answer when the door opened and Irene came back.

'Someone's done the flowers!' she said.

'Yes - now I come to think of it, I saw Clarissa doing them,' said Mavis.

'What on earth for?' demanded Irene. 'Gosh - I hope people aren't going to run round after me doing my jobs! I'm still perfectly capable of doing them.'

'Well,' said Darrell, suddenly remembering, 'it's Clarissa's week, idiot. Your week is next week. You looked it up this morning.'

'Gosh!' said Irene again, with a comical air of dismay. 'I'm nuts! I go and interrupt my own bit of composing, and rush off to do a job I'm not supposed to do till next week. Anyway - it gave dear Catherine a chance to make one of her generous offers!'

'That's not kind of you, Irene,' said Catherine, flushing. 'But never mind - I do understand. If I could compose like you I'd say nasty things sometimes, I expect! I do understand.'

'Could you stop being forgiving and understanding long enough for me to finish my tune?' said Irene, in a dangerous voice. 'I don't care if you "understand" or not - all I care about at the moment is to finish this.'

Catherine put on a saintly face, pressed her lips together as if stopping herself from retorting, and went on darning.

There was a knock at the door. Irene groaned. 'Go away! Don't come in!'

The door opened and Connie's face peered round. 'Is Ruth here? Ruth, can you come for a minute? Bridget is out here. We've got rather a good idea.'

'I don't like Bridget,' said Ruth, in a low voice. 'And anyway I'm busy. So's everyone else here.'

'But, Ruth - I've hardly seen you this week,' protested Connie. 'Come on out for a minute. By the way, I've mended your roller-skates for you. They're ready for you to use again.'