A Summer Promise (12 page)

When she got there she saw a couple of girls already waiting, but there was no sign of either Alice or the Daimler. Something really must have gone wrong, Maddy concluded, and was more certain than ever when the bus chugged to a halt and the conductor shouted at them to get aboard since he knew they would not want to be late on the first day of term.

Maddy hesitated. She knew cars sometimes broke down but she did not think that the Daimler, after all the loving care lavished on it by Mr Browning, could possibly have done so. Mentally, Maddy shrugged. The bus driver was consulting a large gunmetal watch which hung by its chain just below the steering wheel. Tentatively she put a foot on the platform, then climbed into the bus. She knew how much Alice liked getting her own way, but surely even she would not let her friend down in such a manner?

However, conjecture was useless. She would find out what had happened when she reached school.

Because his term did not start for another two days, Tom thought he would go to see the girls on to the bus on their first day at the new school. He waited in the passenger seat of the Daimler whilst his father fussed around, checking that all was as it should be, before settling himself behind the wheel. ‘You’ve taken Miss Thwaite’s place,’ Mr Browning said, only half laughing. ‘Madam likes to sit in front, you know.’

Tom felt his face grow hot; he knew his father thought Alice somewhat above herself and would have liked to see Tom take her down a peg or two. However, now was not the time to start an argument so he just grinned and said apologetically: ‘It’s all right, Dad. I’ll stay here if you like, but Alice and I are friends, even if she does act a bit “Lady of the Manor” from time to time; I bet you she’ll be quite happy for me to come into the village and see her aboard the bus.’

His father shrugged, and started the engine. ‘Well, I dare say you’re right.’ He turned the car towards Larkspur. ‘And anyway, little Miss Thwaite will be so excited at the thought of her new school that she probably wouldn’t notice if you drove and
I
sat in the passenger seat!’

They were still chuckling over the thought when the car suddenly veered, and before either of them could react the front of the Daimler buried itself in the bank and the engine spluttered and died. ‘What the devil . . .’ Tom began, thoroughly startled. He had never known his father have even the slightest of accidents. But Mr Browning was already out of the car, running round to examine the damage, so Tom opened his door and went to join him.

‘Whatever made her suddenly leap into the bank like that?’ he said plaintively, staring at the long bonnet, now buried in mossy earth and wild flowers.

Mr Browning gave his son a withering look. ‘Look there – the perishing tyre’s burst,’ he said bitterly, pointing to the offending wheel. ‘I checked every nut and bolt, every spark plug even, and yesterday she was fine. She must have caught something sharp that simply ripped the tyre virtually in two. Still, if we can get her back on the road then I can change the wheel and still be in time. We shan’t be able to call for little Madeleine, but I dare say if you run you can get to Larkspur in time to explain what’s happened. Fortunately the walk into the village is all downhill, so even if she waited a while for me to pick her up she’ll still have time to catch the bus.’ He grinned at his son. ‘All I can say is thank the Lord this didn’t happen with Mr and Mrs Thwaite aboard. Mr Thwaite would have laughed it off, but his wife wouldn’t have liked it at all. Still, neither of them need know. Now you take the left-hand side, Tom, and I’ll take the right, and we’ll both heave on three. One, two . . .’

Twenty minutes later, father and son stood back and exchanged rueful glances. ‘We’ll have to get a tractor and chains; it’s going to take more than the two of us to get her free,’ Mr Browning said, glancing at his watch. ‘It’s far too late to go to Larkspur now, and anyway the bus will have left. Mr Thwaite will have to arrange for a car for Alice, so we’d best go and tell him so’s he can ring the garage. Then we’ll go down and fetch old Fred from Mallard Farm to the rescue; he’ll soon have her out.’

Maddy took one last glance around her and then selected an empty seat near the front and slid into it. She pushed her neat little satchel down by her feet, and even as she did so the bus began to move. Maddy sighed; for whatever reason, Alice had let her down. Maddy could not help remembering the face that Alice had pulled at the mere thought of catching the bus; no doubt she had always intended to get her own way with no thought for the position it would put her friend in. Well, two could play at that game. When the Daimler arrived at the school gates, Alice would find no Maddy awaiting her; no indeed! Maddy would go straight into school, looking neither to left nor right, and leave Alice to discover for herself which classroom she was expected in, and where she was meant to go first. And unless she had a very good reason for not sticking to their plan, she could jolly well make her own friends. She need no longer think that Maddy wanted to be one of them.

Even as the thought crossed Maddy’s mind, the bus jerked to a stop and another passenger jumped on to the platform. She was a small girl with curly, ash blonde hair, laughing blue eyes and a little satchel that was the twin to Maddy’s own. She was also wearing an identical green blazer with silver braid. Maddy wondered whence she had come, for she was breathing heavily and had clearly had to run to catch up with the vehicle, though why she had not been at the bus stop Maddy could not conjecture. Perhaps she was a new girl, like herself, or perhaps she was one of those people who are never on time for anything.

The girl slid into the empty seat beside Maddy, turned, and gave her a beaming smile. ‘Hello,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Your uniform looks new, like mine. Does that mean this is your first day at St Philippa’s?’

‘Yes, it is,’ Maddy said. She wished she had even half the confidence this girl displayed. ‘I won a scholarship.’

‘Did you? I did too! How odd that we should sit together – we’re probably the only two scholarship girls on the entire bus,’ the blonde one said. ‘My name’s Marigold Stein; what’s yours?’

‘Madeleine Hebditch,’ Maddy replied at once. She glanced curiously at her companion and decided that she liked this girl. Since it was the first day for them both, they would possibly be in the same class, which would be nice. Maddy could not help smiling a little. If Alice expected her, Maddy, to be lonely without her, she would be disappointed. But her new friend was speaking.

‘Madeleine. That’s a really lovely name. My name is quite pretty too, don’t you think?’ And then, not waiting for a reply: ‘But I meant to ask you whether you were saving this seat for someone?’

‘I was, but she didn’t turn up,’ Maddy acknow-ledged. ‘Maybe her father’s car broke down. But don’t worry about it – I know Alice and she’ll somehow manage to get to school in time, car or no car. To tell you the truth, she wanted to be driven all the way, so maybe that’s what’s happened. She’s used to getting what she wants; she’s had a governess till now and Miss Spender wasn’t very strict with her.’ Suddenly Maddy felt ashamed of discussing her friend with this unknown girl. ‘She’s all right, is Alice,’ she added rather feebly. ‘You’ll like her, honest to God you will. She’s very pretty and has lovely clothes and – and though she wouldn’t claim to be clever she worked very hard to pass the entrance exam and she’s always shared the nice things she has with me, so I shouldn’t be critical. We both live a good way from the village so we spend quite a lot of time together.’

Marigold smiled. ‘Are you warning me off?’ she asked cheerfully. ‘Can’t you have two best friends? Think of all those Angela Brazil stories of the Triumvirate. In fact lots of her stories have three main characters, come to think.’

The two of them chatted as the bus rumbled on, sometimes stopping to pick up a girl in green or a lad in the purple and cream uniform of the neighbouring boys’ school. ‘Do you read much?’ Maddy asked. ‘We had a wonderful teacher at the village school, Miss Parrott, who used to lend us books so I’ve read all sorts, and then over the summer Alice’s uncle John – she lives with him and her aunt Ruby – lent us
The Water Babies
by Charles Kingsley. Have you read that?’

‘I did try once,’ Marigold said rather dubiously. ‘But it was full of moralising, so I gave up. Then I found another edition which was better, only for younger children, I think; at least, one of the teachers asked me why I had an edition meant for the under tens, so I explained about the moralising one and she said she’d try to find me what she called “something more suitable”, only she never did. Why?’

Maddy hesitated, then turned a searching look on her companion. Scanning her from top to toe and dropping her voice, she asked in thrilling accents: ‘Do you believe in magic? It’s important that you tell me the truth.’

‘What sort of magic?’ Marigold said promptly. ‘Elves on toadstools? Or little people with wings who can grant wishes? Or old women in pointy hats, who live in gingerbread houses? There are all sorts of magic, you know.’

‘Not fairies, or at any rate only very special ones. I was thinking more of water babies,’ Maddy said. ‘In the very first chapter of the book Mr Kingsley talks about Vendale, which is where he says he found them. He doesn’t give the place its real name because he says if he does curious young ladies would turn it upside down looking for naiads, so Alice and I, and our friend Tom, decided to try to find out where he meant. We know he visited Cumming Cove, which was where the little chimney sweep climbed down the cliff when he was being chased by the people from the big house who believed he was a thief.’ She thought she saw a sceptical look in her new friend’s eyes and hastened to explain. ‘But of course I know we shan’t find water babies. What we want to find is Vendale itself, so that we can look in the pools and waterfalls there and possibly see a flash of whatever it was Mr Kingsley saw which led him to write his story.’ She hesitated, and when she spoke again her voice was uncertain. ‘If . . . if you’d like to join in our search I’d love to have you.’

‘I think that’s a grand scheme,’ Marigold said, her blue eyes sparkling. ‘Tell me more about your friend Tom. I can’t think of a single boy I know who would even pretend to search for a secret dale, let alone water babies.’

But at this point the bus drew up betwixt the two schools, and Maddy noticed, with an inward grin, that whilst the boys slung their satchels over their shoulders and galloped off without a backward glance, amongst the girls there was much fluffing up of hair and straightening of ties and stocking seams. Appearances were clearly important at St Philippa’s.

As soon as she and Marigold entered the schoolyard, Maddy forgot her vengeful intentions and began to cast around for sight of Alice. When she saw her friend, who was clearly waiting for her, the last traces of her recent animosity disappeared, for the anxiety on Alice’s heart-shaped face made her ashamed of her lack of faith. And after all, if Alice had not let her down she would not have met and made friends with Marigold. Grabbing the other girl by the hand, she towed her across the playground until they reached Alice’s side.

‘What went wrong?’ she asked. ‘When Mr Browning didn’t come I decided I’d best start walking, and when I reached the village and the bus arrived I couldn’t wait any longer.’

‘One of the Daimler’s tyres burst, so Uncle John had to telephone for a car from the garage. When I got here one of the older girls saw me hovering and asked me which class I was in, and when I said I didn’t know she laughed and said that in that case waiting for my friend was the sensible thing to do.’ She raised her brows at Maddy. ‘How
do
we find out what class we’re in?’

‘I think we get into lines and the teachers call the roll, or at least that’s what they did on the first day at the village school,’ Maddy explained in a rapid undertone. ‘But I should introduce you two to each other before we do anything else. Marigold, this is my friend Alice Thwaite; Alice, this is Marigold Stein. She’s new too, so we might all be in the same class.’ The two girls eyed each other warily and Maddy was dismayed to see that Alice’s eyes flicked rather disdainfully over her new friend. However, she told herself that it was probably shyness. ‘Ah, here comes a teacher; she’ll explain what we’re supposed to do.’

The teacher, arriving at Marigold’s side, smiled down at them, then looked round the schoolyard. ‘New girls, over here, please,’ she called. ‘You are bound for class 3A. Your form teacher will be Miss Bendon. Get into line, please, and I’ll take you straight to your classroom. Follow me, everyone.’

School finished at four o’clock, by which time Maddy was worn out. She had been allocated a desk, a peg in the cloakroom and a little key to a locker where she could keep personal possessions. She had met a bewildering number of teachers, had received a bundle of dinner vouchers and enjoyed a meal of mince and mashed potatoes.

The girls were allowed to sit anywhere they liked for the meal, and Alice and Marigold had settled on either side of her. The girl sitting opposite had grinned cheerfully at them as the plates of rice pudding, each with a dollop of red jam on top, were passed along the tables. ‘We call this “Death in the Alps”,’ the girl had said. ‘We’ve got nicknames for most of the school dinners, but you’ll find out for yourselves soon enough.’

Maddy had giggled, but did not reveal to anyone how nice it was to have a meal in whose preparation she had not been involved. Indeed, she had been pleasantly surprised at break-time that morning to be given not just a small bottle of milk with a straw but two biscuits, one shortbread and the other a ginger nut. She had waited with some apprehension for a teacher or a prefect to demand payment for such luxuries, but it had soon become obvious that no money was to change hands, so she had been able to enjoy her milk and biscuits without a qualm.

Most of the day had been spent in learning their way around the school, meeting the teachers and receiving text books, yet Maddy felt as weary as though she had run a marathon, and when she crossed the playground with Alice and Marigold at the end of the day she admitted that she was worn out.