In the Fifth at Malory Towers (6 page)

“Have some of my honey,” said Maureen, eagerly. “We keep bees, you know — and we always have such a lot of honey. We have hens, too. So we have plenty of eggs. I brought some back with me. I hope you’ll share them with me.”

Gwendoline rather liked all this. Dear me, she must have made quite an impression on the new girl, although she had only just arrived!

“The others have been telling me all about you,” gushed Maureen. “How popular you seem to be!”

This didn’t ring quite true, somehow, to Gwendoline. She hadn’t known she was as popular as all that. In fact, though she didn’t admit it frankly to herself, she knew quite well she was probably the least popular of all the girls in the form!

Maureen chattered away merrily, and Gwen listened, not so much because she wanted to, as because she was so busy tucking in. At this rate, thought the amused Alicia, Gwendoline would put on more fat than games and gym and walks would take off!

“You’ll be pleased to hear we haven’t got to work quite so hard this term, Gwen,” she told her. “More time for games and gym. You’ll like that.”

Gwendoline gave Alicia one of her Looks, as she called them. Alas, they never impressed Alicia. It wasn’t safe to argue with Alicia, or contradict, or try to say something cutting. Alicia was always ten times as quick at answering back and a hundred times as cutting as anyone else.

“We’ll have the committee meeting at half-past five,” announced Moira. “That seems to be the best time. You’ll be coming, Gwendoline, won’t you — have you heard about the Christmas Entertainment Committee yet?”

Gwendoline hadn’t, so she was duly enlightened. She was pleased. She saw herself at once in one of the chief parts of whatever play or pantomime was chosen. She would loosen her sheet of golden hair — what a pity it wasn’t curly. She would look lovely, she knew she would!

Exactly the same thoughts were going through Maureen’s mind. She too would like one of the chief parts — and she too would play it with her golden hair loose. She felt she would like to confide her thoughts to Gwendoline.

“When I was at Mazeley Manor,” she began. Belinda interrupted at once.

“Oh yes — have you told Gwen about Measley Manor?”

Maureen frowned. “You know its Maz
eley
,” she said, with dignity. “Mam'zelle just didn’t know how to pronounce it, that’s all, when she said it.”

Mam’zelle caught her name mentioned. She turned, with her wide smile. “Ah — you want to talk about Measley Manor again, your dear old school,
n’est ce pas
? You have not yet told Gwendoline about Measley Manor?”

Maureen saw the girls grinning and gave it up. She went on talking to Gwen, who was astonished at all this by-play which she didn’t, of course, understand.

“At my old school we did a pantomime,” said Maureen. “It was the
Sleeping Beauty
. I had to have my hair loose, of course. You have to have someone with golden hair for those parts, don’t you?”

Gwen agreed heartily. She was very proud of her golden hair, and only wished she was allowed to wear it loose round her face at school, as she did at home.

“The prince was grand,” went on Maureen. “I really must tell you all about the play. You’re so interested in plays, aren’t you? Well...”

And till long past teatime Maureen went on and on interminably with her long and boring tale of what happened in the play at her last school. Gwendoline couldn’t stop her or get rid of her. Maureen was just as thick-skinned and slow of taking a hint as she was!

“Gwen’s met her match at last,” said Darrell to Sally. “I say, look at Bill — and Clarissa, too — all dressed up in riding things. Don’t they know the committee meeting’s in about ten minutes?”

Sally called to them. “Hey, you two! Where do you think you’re going?”

“To have a look at Thunder and Merrylegs,” said Bill.

“But didn’t you know there’s a committee meeting on almost at once?” said Darrell, exasperated.

“No. Nobody told us,” said Clarissa, looking startled. “It wasn’t up on the notice-board.”

“Well, we’ve been talking about it ever since this morning, and except for Maureen and Gwen, who discussed golden-haired beauties in plays, we’ve talked about nothing else all tea-time,” said Darrell. “Where are your ears? Didn’t you hear a word of it?”

“Not a word,” said Bill, seriously. “I’m so sorry. Of course we’ll come. Have we time just to go and see Thunder and Merrylegs first? We must have been talking about something else, Clarissa and I, and not heard the rest of you.”

“You were whinnying away to each other,” said Sally. “I suppose you’ve got horses on the brain again. No, don’t go down to the stables now — you certainly won’t be back till the end of the committee if you do. I know you two when you disappear into the stables. You’re gone for ever!”

Clarissa and Bill walked off to the fifth-form common room with a good grace. Perhaps there would be time afterwards to go to the stables.

“Come on,” said Sally to Darrell. “Let’s go and round up all the others. I’m longing for this committee.”

THE whole of the fifth form was soon collected in the North Tower common room. The girls sat on chairs, lounged on the couches, or lay on the floor-rugs. They talked and shouted and laughed. Moira came in and went straight to the table. A big chair had been put behind it.

Moira banged on the table with a book.

“Quiet!” she said. “The meeting is about to begin. You all know what it’s about. It’s to choose a committee to handle the organization of the Christmas entertainment, which we, the fifth form, are to undertake.”

“Hear hear,” said somebody’s voice. Moira took no notice.

“I think the whole form should also be asked to discuss and choose what kind of entertainment we shall do,” she said.

“Punch and Judy Show!” called someone.

“Don’t be funny,” said Moira. “Now, first of all we’ll get down to the business of choosing the committee. I asked Catherine to cut out the slips of paper to use. Where are they, Catherine?”

She turned to where Catherine was sitting next to her. Catherine handed her a sheaf of slips.

“Here they are. I did them all as soon as you told me you wanted them. And here’s a box. I got it out of the cupboard in the fifth-form room. And I’ve collected enough pencils for everyone to use. And look...”

“All right, all right,” said Moira. That’s all we shall want. Now who’ll give out the paper slips? You, Mary-Lou?”

Mary-Lou was perched up on the top of a small cupboard, swinging her legs. She made preparations to climb down.

“No, no — don’t you bother, Mary-Lou,” said Catherine, at once. “I’ll give them out.” And before anyone could stop her she was going round the room, handing everyone a slip of paper and a pencil.

“Everyone got a slip?” asked Moira. “Look, Mavis hasn’t got one, Catherine.”

“So sorry I missed you out!” said Catherine, in an apologetic voice. She always apologized if she could. “Here you are.”

“Now,” said Moira, “I think we’ll have eight people on this committee — because there will be a lot of work to be done. We shall want someone to represent the art side, for instance — someone for the music side — and so on. I must be one of the committee, as I am head-girl, so you need not vote for me, of course. That means you need only put down seven names.”

“Well, I don’t know that I should have voted for Moira,” said Alicia to Irene, in a low voice. “Too bossy for my taste. We shall all have to salute her when we meet her soon!”

Everyone was soon busy scribbling down names. Maureen was at a loss because she knew so few. Gwendoline prompted her, and Moira soon noticed it.

“Gwendoline! Don’t tell Maureen names to put down. That simply means
you
have two votes instead of one. I forgot that Maureen is new. We shall have to leave her out of this for the moment.”

The papers were folded over and put into the box that Catherine took round. Then, whilst the rest of the girls chattered, Moira and Catherine took out the slips, jotted ticks beside the names of the girls chosen, and counted them up.

Moira rapped on the table. “Silence, please! We’ve got the results now. These are the names of the girls with most votes: Alicia, Mavis, Irene, Belinda, Darrell, Janet — and Sally and Betty tie.”

Janet and Betty were girls from other houses who were in the fifth form. Betty was Alicia’s best friend, as clever and witty as she was, and very popular.

“Well, there you are,” said Moira. “As Sally and Betty have tied, we’d better have them both in, making a committee of nine, instead of eight.”

“I’ll take on the music side,” said Irene.

“And I’d like to take the art side — any decorations and so on,” said Belinda.

“I draw very well,” whispered Maureen to Gwen. “I could help with that. Shall I say so?”

“No,” said Gwen, who couldn’t draw anything, and didn’t particularly want this new girl to shine.

“I’ll take on the costumes,” said Janet, who was extremely clever with her needle, and made all her own dresses. “I’d love to help with those.”

“Good,” said Moira, approvingly.

“Could I — do you think I could help with the
singing
part of it?” said Mavis, hesitatingly. “I don’t want to push myself forward — but if there’s to be any singing — you know, choruses and all that — I could train them. I’ve had such a lot of training myself I think I’d know how to set about it.”

“Right. That’s a good idea,” said Moira.

“And if there’s any solo-work, you can sing it yourself!” called Darrell. “Your voice is lovely now.”

Mavis flushed with pleasure. “Oh well — I’ll see. There might not be any,” she said. “It depends what we do, doesn’t it?”

“That leaves Alicia, Darrell, Sally and myself for general things — the organization,” said Moira, who was certainly able to handle a meeting well, and make it get on with things. “We’ll have to work together smoothly, efficiently — and amicably.”

She glanced at Alicia, as she spoke, a quick, rather hostile glance, a mere flick of the eyes. But Alicia caught it and noted it. That word “amicably” was meant for her. All right — she would be amicable just as long as Moira was — and not a moment longer!

“Well, now that we’ve got the members of the committee settled, we’ll get on with the next thing,” said Moira. “What kind of entertainment shall we give?”

“Pantomime!”

“No — a play — a humorous play! Let’s do
A Quiet Week-End
!”

“A variety show!”

“A ballet! Oh, do let’s do a ballet!”

The last suggestion was from a girl who was a beautiful ballet dancer. She was cried down.

“No, no — that’s too one-sided. We can’t all dance!”

“Well, let’s have something that everyone can be in, and
do
something in.”

“Well, it had better be a pantomime then,” said Moira. “We can have songs, dances, acting and all kinds of sideshows in that. A pantomime never sticks to its story — it just does what it likes.”

After some more shouting and discussion a pantomime was decided on, and for some reason or other
Cinderella
found more favour than any other pantomime idea.

Gwen and Maureen immediately had visions of themselves as perfect Cinderellas, loose hair and all. Maureen turned to Gwen.

“How I’d love to act Cinderella,” she murmured. “At my last school I...”

“Let’s see now — what was your last school?” asked Belinda at once.

Poor Maureen didn’t dare to say the name. She turned her back on Belinda. “At my last school I was once Cinderella,” she said. “I was a great success. I...”

Gwen didn’t like this kind of thing at all. She began to think Maureen very boring and conceited. Why,
she
had been about to say what a good Cinderella
she
would make! She didn’t consider that Maureen, with her weak, silly, rabbit-mouthed face would make a good leading lady at all.

“We’ll choose Cinderella for our pantomime story then,” said Moira. “We will write the whole thing ourselves. Darrell, you’re good at essays — you can draft it out.”

Darrell looked enormously surprised. “Draft it out — draft out a whole
pantomime
!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

“You’ve only got to get the script of one or two other pantomimes to see how to set about it,” said Moira. “Can you write verse — and words for songs? We’ll have to have those, too.”

Darrell wished fervently she wasn’t on the Committee at all. Why, this was going to be Real Hard Work — just as she thought she was going to have a nice slack term, too. She opened her mouth to protest, but Moira had already finished with her. She was now speaking to Irene.

“Can you get on with the music as soon as we’ve got the words?” she asked. “Or perhaps you prefer to write the music before you get the words and have them fitted afterwards?”

“I’ll work in my own way, thank you,” said Irene, perfectly politely, but with a steady ring in her voice that said, “Keep off! Where music is concerned I’m going to do as I like.” She looked straight at Moira. “You can safely leave it to me. Music’s my job, it always has been and it always will be.”