Bonnie, who had been listening intently, approached June later, and said, ‘I want to make a bargain with you. I will repair all of the tennis dresses and make them as good as new.’
June’s eyes lit up, and she said, ‘Would you really do that? Bonnie, you’re an angel.’
‘Yes, but I want something in return,’ said Bonnie, before June got too carried away. ‘You are to leave Amy and me alone, and not try to get us to play tennis.’
June looked down into Bonnie’s sweet little face, and gave a reluctant laugh. ‘You can be every bit as determined as me when you want something, can’t you?’ she said. ‘Or when you want to get out of something! Well, it really would be a help to me if you would mend the dresses, Bonnie. I suppose, in your way, you will be doing your bit for the team.’
So the bargain was struck, and Bonnie, sticking to her side of it, began work on the dresses at once. Not only did she repair hems and mend seams, with her neat, tiny stitches, but she painstakingly embroidered the initials M and T, for Malory Towers, on the pocket of each dress, in deep orange.
June was thrilled, and cried, ‘Bonnie, you’re marvellous! Our players will look as neat as new pins now, and I shall be proud to watch them play.’
Bonnie accepted the praise graciously, but really she had thoroughly enjoyed working on the dresses, for needlework was her favourite pastime.
Millicent, who had felt extremely jealous of the smart tennis dresses that June’s teams would be wearing, overheard this. All of the orchestras in the competition would be wearing their school uniforms, but Millicent had been trying to think of something that would make the Malory Towers girls stand out. Now she had a sudden brainwave, and she turned to Bonnie, saying, ‘I have a project for you, Bonnie, if you’re willing.’
‘What is it?’ asked Bonnie curiously.
‘Well,’ said Millicent. ‘It occurred to me that it would be nice if each member of our orchestra had a pennant to hang from her music stand. Perhaps – ’
‘Yes,’ interrupted Bonnie excitedly, her creative mind grasping the idea at once. ‘I see exactly how they should look! Triangular pennants made from orange fabric, with the letters M and T embroidered in brown, so that the colours match the school uniform. How does that sound, Millicent?’
‘That sounds super!’ said Millicent, who hadn’t got as far as thinking about the colours. ‘Bonnie, would you be able to do that? If you can, I shall owe you a favour.’
Of course, Bonnie was only too pleased to help out, for she was thrilled to have a new project to work on, and she always liked being in a position where someone owed her a favour.
So Bonnie felt as if she was really doing rather a lot to help both June and Millicent. Alas for poor Delia, however; her efforts to assist Millicent did not get off to a good start.
The orchestra held their first proper rehearsal together in the big hall, and Delia made sure that all the music stands had a copy of Millicent’s score there, ready and waiting.
‘Thank you, Delia,’ said Millicent, as she led the orchestra into the hall. ‘Now, what I would like you to do is sit at the side there, and jot down any comments and suggestions I make in a notebook. Later I shall be able to read them back and make any improvements that are needed to the score. See?’
Delia nodded eagerly, and took her seat, notebook and pen at the ready.
Millicent stood in front of the orchestra, baton in hand and conducted. But, when the music stopped, she had a great many criticisms to make, for this was the first time that the orchestra had played together, and, naturally, mistakes were made. Delia was most assiduous in recording all of Millicent’s remarks.
‘Anne!’ said Millicent sharply. ‘You played two wrong notes in your solo. You really must try to do better! And Janet, you came in far too late. A mistake like that could cost us the competition. As for the violins, it was simply dreadful! Gillian was the only one of you who played perfectly. I suggest that you all spend some time rehearsing together.’
The girls knew only too well that they had made mistakes, but they rather resented Millicent’s high-handed attitude.
‘I don’t mind having my mistakes pointed out,’ muttered Janet. ‘But she could be a little more polite and pleasant about it.’
Helen, one of the violinists, nodded in agreement and whispered, ‘I do think she’s awfully hard on us. After all, it is the first time that we have all played together. She can’t expect us to be perfect!’
But it seemed that this was exactly what Millicent did expect. She made Anne play her piano solo again, and when the girl played the same two wrong notes, Millicent scolded her so harshly that she was almost reduced to tears.
‘What a pity that Hannah didn’t want to be pianist,’ Millicent remarked scathingly. ‘At least she would have taken the trouble to learn the music before turning up for rehearsal.’
Anne, who hadn’t realised that Hannah had been first choice, felt very upset indeed.
For a moment she considered walking off, but she so badly wanted to be a part of the orchestra, and had already written to her parents about it. So poor Anne swallowed her pride, and stayed where she was.
But many of the others sent silent glances of sympathy Anne’s way, and glared at Millicent. Unfortunately for them, Millicent, who could be very thick-skinned at times, didn’t even notice.
When the orchestra played the piece for the second time, it sounded much better, to Delia’s untrained ear. Quite beautiful, in fact. Millicent did not agree, and continued to criticise and suggest improvements, but Delia, who had become quite lost in the music, completely forgot to write them down. The piece that Millicent had composed was called ‘Summer Serenade’ and, as she listened, Delia thought that it really did capture the essence of summer perfectly, making her think of picnics, and walks along the beach.
Quite suddenly, words began to form in her head, that fitted in with the music, and, turning hastily to the back of the notebook Delia began to jot them down. Millicent, glancing across, saw the girl scribbling away, and felt satisfied that the was doing her job properly.
But Delia’s sudden burst of creativity ended, and she closed the notebook as Millicent lowered her baton and spoke to the orchestra.
‘Better, but not good enough!’ she said, a stern expression on her face. ‘I expect you all to practise until you are perfect before the next rehearsal.’
The only person who came in for unstinted praise was Gillian, and Janet remarked rather bitterly, ‘Of course, the two of them are in the same form and the same tower, so Millicent is bound to favour her. I expect that the two of them are friends.’
In fact, Gillian had decided that she didn’t like Millicent much at all. She thought the girl high-handed and rather humourless, and hadn’t cared for some of the unkind remarks that she had made to the others.
She really doesn’t know how to get the best out of people, thought Gillian, as she put her violin away. All that Millicent has done is make everyone feel terribly nervous, for now we all know that we are in for a tongue lashing if we make a mistake.
Delia, who had remained behind to collect the scores that had been left on the music stands, went across to Gillian and said a little shyly, ‘You played awfully well, Gillian.’
Gillian smiled. She liked the rather sweet-natured, awkward Delia. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Though I can’t help wishing that Millicent had praised some of the others as much as she praised me. I have a feeling that her sharp tongue is going to cause problems.’
‘I think that she just wants everything to be perfect,’ said Delia. ‘She has her heart set on winning this competition, you know, and I suppose that she feels a lot rests on her shoulders, as she wrote the music as well.’
‘I daresay you’re right,’ said Gillian. ‘But I do wish that she wasn’t quite so intense and serious.’
Delia was quite right about Millicent. She wanted desperately to lead Malory Towers to victory in the orchestra competition, and if they could win playing h
er very own composition, it would be a huge feather in her cap.
But some of the players simply weren’t up to scratch, and it was up to her, Millicent, to see that they improved. She went up to Delia in the common-room that evening, and said, ‘I say, Delia, do you have that notebook? I intend to go through it this evening, so that I can see where all the weak spots are.’
Delia handed over the notebook, but Millicent wasn’t able to read it that evening, after all, for Matron put her head round the door and cried, ‘Millicent Moon! I have a pile of your mending here, which needs to be unpicked and done again.’
Millicent, who didn’t like mending at all, turned red and said, ‘Sorry, Matron. I’m not very good at sewing, and I’m afraid I rushed it, rather.’
‘Well, you will do it again this evening,’ said Matron, sternly. ‘And this time, Millicent, please do it carefully, for I shall inspect it tomorrow.’
With that, Matron handed Millicent the pile of mending, and shut the door behind her.
Millicent scowled. Blow Matron! She had so wanted to go through that notebook tonight. She wondered if Bonnie could be persuaded to do the mending for her, and glanced across at the girl. But Bonnie was busily engaged in embroidering one of the pennants for the orchestra, and Millicent decided that was far more important than her mending.
‘How I hate sewing!’ she said aloud, hoping that one of the girls would take pity on her and offer to do it for her. But no one did, for they had all noticed that Millicent often used the excuse of being a musical genius to get out of doing other, more mundane tasks.
Delia wondered if she should offer, though sewing wasn’t one of her talents, and she opened her mouth to speak. But Pam caught her eye and gave a small shake of the head, and Delia subsided.
‘Well, Millicent,’ said Felicity, who was doing a jigsaw with Susan. ‘It rather looks as if you are going to have to do your own mending, doesn’t it?’
‘We never had to do our own mending at the music academy,’ said Millicent crossly, getting out her work-basket. ‘It is such a waste of time, when I could be working on my piece for the competition.’
‘You’re getting far too wrapped up in this competition, if you ask me,’ said Pam. ‘And the mistresses are starting to notice it too. I overheard Miss James telling Miss Potts that she is not very pleased with you, for you don’t pay attention in class.’
‘Be careful, Millicent,’ warned June. ‘If Miss Grayling thinks that your involvement with the orchestra is affecting your class-work, she may change her mind and make you pull out.’
Millicent was quite horrified at that thought. She would have to be very careful indeed, and at least try to look as if she was paying attention in class.
Yet the very next second, she decided that she would take the notebook into French with her tomorrow, and slip it inside the pages of the book that the form was reading with Mam’zelle Dupont. Mam’zelle was so easy to fool that she would never spot a thing!
5
Millicent in trouble
Mam’zelle Dupont was in a good mood when she walked into the fifth-form classroom the following morning. She had had a good night’s sleep and felt well rested, the sun was shining, and she liked these fifth formers. They were good, hard-working girls, even June, who had been such a bad girl when she was lower down the school.
Nora, one of Mam’zelle’s favourites, was holding the door open for her, and the French mistress smiled, and said, ‘Merci, Nora. Asseyez-vous, s’il vous plait.’
The fifth formers took their seats, and Mam’zelle beamed round, saying, ‘Please open your books, and we will continue reading this so-excellent story. Ma chère Felicity, you will begin please.’
As Felicity began reading, Millicent opened her book, into which she had already slipped the notebook. The girl was soon lost in her world of music as she began to read the notes that Delia had written, in her large, untidy handwriting, and she was able to shut out everything around her.
Gillian, who sat beside Millicent, saw what the girl was doing, and thought her very silly indeed. Millicent was going to get into serious trouble if she wasn’t careful. But Gillian couldn’t very well say anything to her without attracting unwelcome attention from Mam’zelle.
So Millicent remained engrossed in her music, while the rest of the class read the French book, and no one but Gillian noticed a thing. Until Mam’zelle said, ‘Millicent, you will read now, please.’
Of course, Millicent didn’t even hear Mam’zelle, not even when the French mistress repeated her instruction. The rest of the fifth formers looked at one another, puzzled, and Gillian gave Millicent a nudge. Then, to her amazement, and the amazement of everyone else in the room, Millicent suddenly let out a roar.
Gillian was extremely startled, for she had barely touched the girl. But it seemed that Millicent’s anger was not directed at her, for the girl stood up and yelled, ‘Delia, you idiot! What on earth has happened to the notes that you were supposed to be making? You have only written down the remarks that I made after the first run-through, then there is nothing!’
The fifth formers stared at Millicent in astonishment, while poor Delia looked most taken aback. But the most surprised person in the class was Mam’zelle herself, who simply couldn’t believe her ears.
Mam’zelle did not care for Millicent, for the girl paid scant attention in class, and acted as if French did not matter – as if nothing mattered, in fact, except her music. And now she dared to disrupt the class with this outburst of temper. Mam’zelle’s good mood suddenly vanished, and she cried angrily, ‘How dare you behave like this in my class, Millicent!’
Millicent continued to ignore Mam’zelle, who was growing redder and angrier by the second, and carried on with her tirade at Delia, whose knees were now shaking.
The fifth formers had no idea what was the matter with Millicent, whom they thought had gone quite mad, but as the girl was taking no notice at all of Mam’zelle, Pam took a hand in the affair.
She walked across to Millicent and took the girl firmly by the arm, saying sharply, ‘Millicent, control yourself at once! You are behaving like a first former, and if you are not careful Mam’zelle will send you to Miss Grayling. Do behave, for heaven’s sake.’
The threat of being sent to the Head seemed to snap Millicent out of her rage, for she blinked suddenly and fell silent.
Mam’zelle, taking advantage of the sudden silence, stepped towards her and said, ‘Vous êtes insupportable, Millicent! Méchante fille! You will be punished for this extraordinary behaviour.’
‘I beg your pardon, Mam’zelle,’ gasped Millicent, afraid now, and deciding that the wisest course of action was to apologise profusely to the angry French mistress. ‘I simply don’t know what came over me.’
Mam’zelle was moving closer, and, in horror, Millicent glanced down at the French book on her desk. If the French mistress spotted the notebook there, she would certainly be sent to the Head, and all her dreams of winning the competition would be shattered. But the notebook was gone! For quick-thinking Gillian, seeing disaster looming for Millicent, had quickly snatched the notebook away as Mam’zelle approached, and hidden it in her satchel. She had no way of informing Millicent of this, though, for Mam’zelle was scolding the girl roundly, in a mixture of French and English, and all that Millicent could do was hang her head and hope that her punishment would not be too severe.
The others watched in fascination, torn between guilty enjoyment at seeing Millicent get into a row, and embarrassment that a fifth former should have behaved in such a way. Had they been in the first or second form, this would have been a very exciting interlude in their day, but as fifth formers they felt slightly ashamed of Millicent. Only June, who saw Millicent as a rival, watched with unalloyed glee, though she would not have admitted this to the others, and made her expression perfectly grave.
At last Mam’zelle seemed to run out of steam, and came to a halt, her chest heaving as she glared angrily at Millicent.
Once again Gillian nudged her, hissing, ‘Apologise again, ass! It’s your only chance of staying out of trouble.’
Millicent did so, in a very meek manner, stammering slightly and with downcast eyes, and when she peeped at Mam’zelle through her eyelashes, she was relieved to see that the French mistress looked a little calmer.
But Mam’zelle still felt angry with Millicent for her extraordinary outburst, and could not let it pass.
‘You will stay behind at break-time, and I shall give you a punishment,’ said Mam’zelle sternly. ‘And think yourself lucky, Millicent, that I do not send you to Miss Grayling!’
Millicent did consider herself lucky, and heaved a sigh of relief. Mam’zelle would be sure to dish out some perfectly horrid punishment, but if she had sent Millicent to the Head it might have ended with her having to pull out of the competition.
At break-time, everyone but Millicent went out into the fresh air, and the fifth formers clustered round Delia.
‘What on earth was that all about?’ asked Felicity, curiously. ‘Millicent seemed angry with you, Delia, but I can’t think why!’
‘I was supposed to note down all her remarks during the last rehearsal,’ explained Delia, rather dolefully. ‘But halfway through I sort of lost myself in the music and completely forgot to write anything down.’
Delia didn’t say that she had been busily jotting down her own words to set to the music, for she felt certain that the others would laugh at her. She felt hot as it suddenly occurred to her that Millicent might find the silly little rhyme written in the back of the notebook, and she made up her mind that she must get hold of it and tear the page out. Millicent had a sharp tongue, and would probably make fun of her. Of course, Delia didn’t know that the notebook was now in Gillian’s possession.
‘Well, anyone can make a mistake,’ said Susan, giving Delia a pat on the shoulder. ‘Cheer up! Millicent is the one at fault, for she should not have shouted at you like that in front of everyone.’