This problem had not occurred to Judith. ‘I suppose…I could take it to Aunt Louise's at half-term.’
‘Haven't you got somewhere safe, Matron?’ Loveday cajoled. ‘In the sick-room, or somewhere? One of those cupboards. Just for the time being?’
‘Well. I'll see. Maybe. Meanwhile clear up all that mess and get it tidied away before the supper bell goes. And back you go to your own cubicle, Loveday, and don't let me catch you together again.’
‘No, Matron. I'm sorry, Matron. And thank you, Matron.’
Loveday's tones were so sweet and repentant that Matron frowned. For a moment she stared suspiciously into Loveday's face. But Loveday only smiled, and after a little, unable to find anything more to complain about, Matron turned and stalked off. They kept straight faces until she was out of earshot, and then dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.
St Ursula's
Sunday, February 9th.
Dear Mummy and Dad,
My Christmas present from Dad came this week and thank you, thank you, it is exactly what I wanted and even better. I was so afraid it had got lost. There is nowhere to keep it in my cubicle or my locker, so Matron has taken it and put it in the bottom of the Red Cross cupboard, which I suppose is kind of her but means I can't go and gloat. When I go to Aunt Louise's for half-term (29th February), I shall take it and put it in my room there. Thank you again, I really love it.
And thank you, Mummy, for the letter you posted in London just before you sailed. I hope you are having a good trip, and that Jess is enjoying the boat.
Loveday Carey-Lewis helped me open my box, and she is really nice. She's naughty, but somehow manages to get away with it, and doesn't mind what anybody says to her or tells her to do. She's been sent here because she wants to be at a school near her home. It is called Nancherrow, and she's got a pony. In the Junior Common Room we have to do projects for Charity, and Loveday and me are making a patchwork cushion cover out of bits. I don't think she was a special friend of Vicky Payton, she just knew her before, and we are nice to Vicky when she talks to us, and she's got another friend who's a day girl, so I don't think she minds about Loveday and me.
Loveday has got a sister called Athena who is in Switzerland, and a brother called Edward who is at Harrow. Her father has got a dog called Tiger.
I am getting better at French verbs, and tomorrow am going to have a test to be in the choir.
Lots of love, and to Jess,
Judith
On the Wednesday of the following week, when Judith dutifully presented herself to collect any possible mail, she was told by Deirdre Ledingham that there were no letters for her but that Miss Catto wanted to see her now, right away, before the bell rang for luncheon.
Judith's heart instantly dropped, and her stomach churned with dread. She was aware of eyes turned towards her, filled with awe and a sort of reluctant respect, as though she had been incredibly brave and done something dreadfully wicked.
She did a quick dig-around in her conscience, and came up with nothing. No running in the corridor, no talking after lights. With a certain mouse-like courage, ‘Why does she want to see me?’ she managed.
‘No idea, but you'll know soon enough. Off you go, quick sharp. She's in her study.’
Judith, terrified but obedient, went.
Miss Catto, in her role as headmistress, was an ever-present influence in the school, and yet, perhaps deliberately, kept herself remote from the day-to-day activities of her establishment. While the rest of the staff made do with austere bedrooms, and a staff-room that was overcrowded with teachers, teacups, and exercise books, Miss Catto had her own set of rooms on the first floor of the old part of the building, but her study, on the ground floor, was the holy-of-holies, and the nerve-centre of everything that went on. She was held, by all, in much respect, and when she made an entrance, her black gown flowing behind her, at Morning Prayers, or meals in the dining-room, where she presided over the High Table, the entire school automatically fell silent and rose to their collective feet.
Because she taught only the senior girls, grappling with either School Certificate or matriculation, there was little or no personal contact with the younger children, and Judith had only spoken to her once, on her first day, when Miss Catto had said her name, greeted her, and wished her well. But, like every other girl in the school, she was perpetually aware of the headmistress, as a presence that loomed, was observed from a distance, was constantly there.
So being sent for was something of an ordeal.
Miss Catto's study stood at the end of the long corridor which led to the various classrooms. The door, brown-painted, stood closed. Dry-mouthed, Judith rapped on the panel with her knuckles.
‘Come in.’
She opened the door. Miss Catto sat behind her desk. She looked up, and laid down her pen.
‘Oh, Judith. Come along.’
Judith closed the door behind her and went into the room. It was a bright morning, the study faced south over the gardens and was flooded with sunlight. There was a jug of wild primroses on Miss Catto's desk, and behind her, on the wall, an oil painting of a cove and an indigo sea, and a boat pulled up onto a beach.
‘Get a chair and sit down. And stop looking so agonised, because I'm not cross with you. Just wanted to have a word.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘How are you getting on?’
For all her elevated position and heavy responsibilities, Miss Catto was comparatively young, not yet forty, and with the fresh complexion and springy gait of a woman who only feels truly relaxed when she is out of doors and taking exercise. Her hair was pepper-and-salt, and drawn back from her smooth brow into a neat and uncompromising bun. Her eyes were blue and clear, and her piercing gaze was capable of being both charming and intimidating, depending on the circumstances of the interview. She wore, beneath her gown, a dark-blue coat and skirt and a silk blouse, with a bow at the throat. Her capable hands were ringless, but there were pearl studs in her ears, and a pearl brooch, like a man's tie-pin, was pinned to her business-like lapel.
Judith, having found a chair, sat on it and faced her.
‘All right, thank you, Miss Catto.’
‘You're getting quite satisfactory marks, and I'm pleased with your work.’
‘Thank you, Miss Catto.’
Miss Catto smiled, and her severe expression was transformed to one of genuine warmth. ‘Have you heard from your mother?’
‘Yes, I got a letter that was posted in Gibraltar.’
‘Everything well?’
‘I think so.’
‘I'm glad. Now, down to business. You seem to have made friends with Loveday Carey-Lewis?’
(Did she miss nothing?) ‘Yes.’
‘I had a feeling you two might get on, which is why I told Matron to put you in the same dormitory. Now, what's happened is that Mrs Carey-Lewis has been on the telephone to me, because apparently Loveday wants to take you home for a weekend. Has she said anything to you about this plan?’
‘No. Not a word.’
‘Good girl. Her mother made her promise not to mention it until she had spoken to me. Would you like to go?’
‘Like to…?’ Judith could scarcely believe her ears. ‘Oh, Miss Catto, I'd love to.’
‘Now, you must understand that if I say you can go, it's a great privilege, because officially half-term is the only weekend that boarders are allowed away. But in the circumstances, with your family abroad, I think it might be good for you.’
‘Oh, thank you.’
‘You'll go with Loveday on Saturday morning, and come back with her on Sunday evening. And I'll telephone your Aunt Louise because she is your legal guardian, and she must know everything that you do.’
‘I'm sure she won't say No.’
‘I don't think she will, but it's important, and polite, to observe formalities. So…’ Her smile was a dismissal. She rose to her feet, and Judith hastily scrambled to hers. ‘That's settled then. I'll let Mrs Carey-Lewis know. Off you go now, and find
Loveday and tell her the good news.’
‘Yes, Miss Catto, and thank you so much…’
‘Remember’ — Miss Catto raised her voice — ‘not to run in the corridor.’
She finally ran Loveday to earth in her classroom, waiting, with the rest of her form, for the luncheon bell to sound.
‘You beast, Loveday! You brute!’
But Loveday saw her rosy, ecstatic face, and shrieked with glee. ‘Pussy-Catto said yes!’ They clung to each other, leapt up and down in a wild war dance of satisfaction and delight. ‘She said yes. I never thought she would.’
‘But you never told me that you'd asked your mother.’
‘I promised I wouldn't because we were afraid Miss Catto would refuse permission and being disappointed is the most horrible feeling in the world. And I've nearly burst keeping it secret. It was Mummy's idea. I told her about you, and she said “Bring Judith home,” and I said you wouldn't be allowed, and she said, “Leave it to me.” So I did. And it worked. It always works with Mummy. Pops always says she's the most persuasive woman in the world. Oh, it'll be fun. I can't wait to show you everything. I can't wait…What are you suddenly looking so gloomy about?’
‘I've just remembered. I haven't any home clothes. All my things are at Aunt Louise's.’
‘Oh, heavens, that doesn't matter. You can borrow mine.’
‘You're thinner and shorter than me.’
‘Then you can borrow Athena's. Or Edward's. Doesn't matter what you look like. And I can show you—’
But there was no time for more, as the bell for luncheon began to clang.
‘The best thing about going home,’ said Loveday in her loud and carrying voice, ‘is that there are no bloody bells,’ which earned her an order mark from her shocked form prefect, and reduced Loveday to her usual state of disrespectful giggles.
They were due to depart at ten o'clock in the morning; both dressed, packed and ready to leave, when Loveday came up with one of her brilliant ideas.
‘Your cedarwood box.’
‘What about it?’
‘Let's take it with us. Then we can show Mummy.’
Judith was doubtful. ‘But will she want to see it?’
‘Oh, don't be silly, of course she will. I told her all about it.’
‘Matron will be furious.’
‘Nothing to be furious about. She'll be glad to get rid of it, cluttering up her cupboards. Anyway, it doesn't matter if she is furious. I'll go if you like…’
But in the end they both went. They found Matron in the sick-room, dosing some skinny child with a sticky spoonful of Malt Extract. As expected, she was not in the least pleased to see them.
‘You two still here?’ Matron did not approve of Miss Catto's bending of the rules and allowing Judith away for the weekend, and had made this perfectly clear since the moment she was told of the plan. ‘I should have thought you'd be off by now.’
‘We're just going, Matron,’ Loveday explained, in placating fashion. ‘But we suddenly thought we'd take Judith's box with us. Then it won't be in your way any longer,’ she added cunningly.
‘What do you want to take the box for?’
‘Mummy's longing to see it. And I've got some shells we want to put in the little drawers.’
‘Oh, very well. It's in the bottom of the Red Cross cupboard. But don't bring it back, because I really don't have space for a lot of bits and pieces. Now, Jennifer, stop pretending you're going to be sick. It's only malt, and very good for you.’
They rescued the box from its hiding place, bade Matron goodbye, and escaped, Judith carrying her new treasure, and Loveday an overnight bag in each hand. Down the stairs, down the long corridor, scuttling along as quickly as possible without actually breaking into a run. Through the dining-room, across the hall…
Deirdre Ledingham was pinning games lists onto the green baize notice-board. ‘Where are you two going?’ she asked bossily.
‘Home,’ Loveday told her, and without waiting for more, shot out of the open door and down the stone steps, leaving the head-girl to stand with her mouth open.
It was a wonderful day, a real Saturday, cold and windy, with great white clouds scudding across the starch-blue sky. The Carey-Lewis car was already there, parked on the gravel, with Mrs Carey-Lewis behind the wheel, waiting for them, and Pekoe the Peke sitting on the passenger seat beside her.
The car, in itself, was glorious enough; a new Bentley, navy-blue, and with a long, sleek bonnet and huge silvery headlamps. Despite the cool air, Mrs Carey-Lewis had let the hood down. She wore her fur coat, and had wrapped a brilliant silk scarf around her head to keep the wind from blowing her hair into her eyes.
She raised an arm as they appeared. ‘There you are, darlings. I thought you were never coming. You're five minutes late.’
‘We went to get Judith's box. Mummy, this is Judith.’
‘Hello, Judith, lovely to see you. Heavens, that looks heavy. Put it all on the back seat, and then, Loveday, you sit in the back, and take Pekoe with you, and Judith can sit by me. What a gorgeous morning. I couldn't resist putting the hood down, everything is smelling so delicious. Pekoe, don't make a fuss. You know you love sitting in the back. Hang on to him tight, Loveday, otherwise he'll see a sheep or a cow or something and want to chase it. Now, everybody settled…’
With no more ado, she switched on the ignition, the powerful engine purred, and they were off. Judith settled back in the padded leather seat and heaved a great, secret sigh of pleasure, because for the past few days she had lived in the certain apprehension that something…anything…was going to happen to put a stop to their plans. But it hadn't, and it was all right. They swept out through the gates and down the road, and St Ursula's disappeared, into the past, behind them.
Loveday chattered. ‘We decided at the last moment to bring the box, and Matron was livid, wasn't she, Judith? I don't know why she's so bad-tempered all the time, I don't know why she can't be like Mary. I don't think she likes Judith and me very much, do you, Judith? Mummy, who's home this weekend? Anybody exciting?’
‘Not really. Only Tommy Mortimer, down from London.’
‘Oh, ho!’ Loveday's tone was arch. She thumped her mother on the shoulder. ‘Tommy Mortimer. He's Mummy's boy-friend,’ she explained to Judith. ‘He brings her gorgeous chocs from Harrods.’
‘Oh, Loveday, you are ridiculous.’ But her mother didn't sound annoyed in the least, simply amused. ‘You mustn't believe a single word this child says, Judith, but you've probably found that out for yourself already.’
‘It's perfectly true and you know it is. Athena says he's been swooning over you for years and that's why he's never married.’
‘Athena talks even more rubbish than you do.’
‘Have you had a letter from Athena?’
‘Oh, darling, what a silly question. You know she's hopeless at letters. But we did have a scrawl from Edward to tell us that he's in the Second Pair for Rackets. And Jeremy Wells turned up this morning. Pops asked him over, and he and Pops and Tommy have disappeared into the woods to shoot pigeons.’
‘Jeremy. Oh good, I haven't seen him for ages.’ Kindly she explained him to Judith. ‘He's nice. He used to be Edward's tutor when Edward was trying to get into Harrow. And sort of an old boy-friend of Athena's. He used to take her to parties when she was about sixteen. His father is our doctor. And Pops simply loves Jeremy, because he's frightfully good at Rugby and cricket, and he's Captain of the County Team.’
‘Oh, darling, he doesn't love him just for those reasons.’
‘Well, he always goes to Twickenham when Cornwall are playing, and to Lord's in the summer. And he's forever on about what a wonderful shot Jeremy is, and how many pheasants he's bagged.’
Diana Carey-Lewis laughed ruefully. ‘That's true enough,’ she admitted, ‘but I still think there's more to their friendship than just blasting away at anything that flies…’
Judith stopped listening. She was beginning to be a bit nervous, bec
ause so many names were being bandied about. So many people and so much going on, and all so casual, so worldly, so infinitely alien to anything she had ever experienced before. She hoped that, during the next two days, she would be able to cope with all the social activity, and would not commit some gauche and unknowing blunder and so embarrass everybody, especially herself. And as for Loveday, she had never heard any child speak to her mother in such a way, gossiping away as though they were contemporaries, and teasing her about her boy-friend. Tommy Mortimer. He, more than anybody who had been mentioned, was a source of wonder. The mothers Judith had known simply did not have boy-friends, or if they did, kept the fact thoroughly secret. But it seemed that Mrs Carey-Lewis was quite shameless about — and even rather proud of — her gentleman admirer. She did not care if all her family…which, presumably, included her husband…knew, and was happy to let them all discuss her little affair, and treat it as a great joke.
It was, Judith decided, all going to be extremely interesting.
By now they had left the town behind them, driven through a small fishing village, and climbed the steep hill onto the empty country which lay beyond. The narrow road wound and twisted, following the reasonless contours of meandering drystone walls, the boundaries of random farms, the buildings of which could be glimpsed, low-roofed and ancient, huddled down against the wind. Gentle hills, crowned with cairns of granite rock, swept down to the coast and the cliffs, and the dazzling, sun-speckled sea. Far out to sea, tiny fishing boats butted out into swell, and overhead sea-gulls, spying a man ploughing behind a horse, swooped and screamed and hovered, waiting to pounce on the freshly turned earth.
It was a very different country from the other side of Cornwall. Judith said, ‘It's so beautiful.’