away.
‘Oh, how horrid!’ said Beanie. She had gone quite pale. I did not know whether she meant Jones’s dismissal, or Clementine’s snobbishness. I might have agreed with her about both.
‘It isn’t just horrid!’ said Daisy. ‘It’s … why, it’s unbearable.’ She looked straight at me, and I have only once before seen her eyes more blue and more desperate: at Fallingford last spring.
I opened my mouth, and then there was a shriek from across the grass. A second former, Daisy’s little informant Betsy North, was waving something – a bit of paper – in the air. ‘Listen to this!’ she cried. ‘Oh, just listen to the note I’ve found!’
Everyone on the lawn turned to her. I looked at Daisy, and saw her shoulders tense.
‘
Astrid Frith dyes her hair!
’ read out Betsy triumphantly. ‘
She isn’t really blonde.
’
There were gasps. Everyone turned to look at the group of Big Girls, Astrid among them, who were standing watch in the doorway to the Library corridor to stop us going back in before the end of bunbreak. Her hair sang out, bright blonde. Was it true?
But Betsy had not finished. ‘And there’s another one on the other side of the paper!’ she cried. ‘It’s even better!
Pippa Daventry’s parents aren’t married. Her father has a first wife in Australia!
’ Her friends gasped and squealed, but around them the lawn had gone dangerously quiet. I could hear a rook high up in the trees call, and rain in the distance. Pippa Daventry, another Big Girl, was shrinking away from her friends, shaking her head. ‘It isn’t true!’ she said. ‘Daddy wouldn’t!’
‘Mine isn’t true either!’ said Astrid desperately. ‘It’s natural, it is. I wouldn’t ever—’
Daisy sprang into action. She marched across the grass towards the second formers, who stumbled rather as she approached, their faces dropping. Betsy looked rather nervous.
‘Give that to me,’ Daisy said.
Betsy held it up, but she did not hand it over yet. ‘Someone dropped a bit of paper,’ she said. ‘I found it just by the edge of the grass, there. I’m only reading what it says – it’s nothing to do with me!’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ said Daisy. ‘Hand it over now.’
There was a pause, and then Betsy scowled, and put the paper in Daisy’s hand.
‘Thank you,’ Daisy said coldly to Betsy, and stuffed it in her school bag.
‘Come on!’ said Kitty, motioning to the rest of us, and she went rushing over to Daisy. The other girls were watching, fascinated. Daisy’s face as she turned to us was calm, but her fingers were gripping her bag as tight as anything.
‘What is it?’ asked Kitty.
‘I’ll tell you later!’ said Daisy sharply. That surprised me. Was she stalling? Was it possible that she did not know what she had just been given? Daisy likes to know everything that goes on at Deepdean – she prides herself on it – so for her to have come up against a surprise was truly unusual.
‘I say,’ said Betsy. ‘This isn’t fair. I found it. I want it back!’
‘No!’ said Daisy. The bell rang. ‘Go to your lesson! Bunbreak’s over.’
‘But what does the paper mean?’ Beanie asked again. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘Neither does Daisy,’ said Lavinia.
The look that Daisy gave her then was furious.
‘Oh, Lord!’ said Kitty. ‘Move it, Pippa’s coming over!’
Pippa Daventry was indeed marching towards us, a very cross look on her face, and if the second bell for the beginning of lessons had not gone at that moment, giving us an excuse to rush for Library corridor, away from the worsening rain, I do not know what might have happened.
5
The first lesson after bunbreak was French, and Daisy was mysteriously absent. She stores up excuse letters from mistresses to use in emergencies, and before she slipped away she had pushed one into my hand. I gave it to Mamzelle, who spent the lesson convinced that Daisy was carrying out a most important task for Miss Morris, the Art
‘Oh, how horrid!’ said Beanie. She had gone quite pale. I did not know whether she meant Jones’s dismissal, or Clementine’s snobbishness. I might have agreed with her about both.
‘It isn’t just horrid!’ said Daisy. ‘It’s … why, it’s unbearable.’ She looked straight at me, and I have only once before seen her eyes more blue and more desperate: at Fallingford last spring.
I opened my mouth, and then there was a shriek from across the grass. A second former, Daisy’s little informant Betsy North, was waving something – a bit of paper – in the air. ‘Listen to this!’ she cried. ‘Oh, just listen to the note I’ve found!’
Everyone on the lawn turned to her. I looked at Daisy, and saw her shoulders tense.
‘
Astrid Frith dyes her hair!
’ read out Betsy triumphantly. ‘
She isn’t really blonde.
’
There were gasps. Everyone turned to look at the group of Big Girls, Astrid among them, who were standing watch in the doorway to the Library corridor to stop us going back in before the end of bunbreak. Her hair sang out, bright blonde. Was it true?
But Betsy had not finished. ‘And there’s another one on the other side of the paper!’ she cried. ‘It’s even better!
Pippa Daventry’s parents aren’t married. Her father has a first wife in Australia!
’ Her friends gasped and squealed, but around them the lawn had gone dangerously quiet. I could hear a rook high up in the trees call, and rain in the distance. Pippa Daventry, another Big Girl, was shrinking away from her friends, shaking her head. ‘It isn’t true!’ she said. ‘Daddy wouldn’t!’
‘Mine isn’t true either!’ said Astrid desperately. ‘It’s natural, it is. I wouldn’t ever—’
Daisy sprang into action. She marched across the grass towards the second formers, who stumbled rather as she approached, their faces dropping. Betsy looked rather nervous.
‘Give that to me,’ Daisy said.
Betsy held it up, but she did not hand it over yet. ‘Someone dropped a bit of paper,’ she said. ‘I found it just by the edge of the grass, there. I’m only reading what it says – it’s nothing to do with me!’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ said Daisy. ‘Hand it over now.’
There was a pause, and then Betsy scowled, and put the paper in Daisy’s hand.
‘Thank you,’ Daisy said coldly to Betsy, and stuffed it in her school bag.
‘Come on!’ said Kitty, motioning to the rest of us, and she went rushing over to Daisy. The other girls were watching, fascinated. Daisy’s face as she turned to us was calm, but her fingers were gripping her bag as tight as anything.
‘What is it?’ asked Kitty.
‘I’ll tell you later!’ said Daisy sharply. That surprised me. Was she stalling? Was it possible that she did not know what she had just been given? Daisy likes to know everything that goes on at Deepdean – she prides herself on it – so for her to have come up against a surprise was truly unusual.
‘I say,’ said Betsy. ‘This isn’t fair. I found it. I want it back!’
‘No!’ said Daisy. The bell rang. ‘Go to your lesson! Bunbreak’s over.’
‘But what does the paper mean?’ Beanie asked again. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘Neither does Daisy,’ said Lavinia.
The look that Daisy gave her then was furious.
‘Oh, Lord!’ said Kitty. ‘Move it, Pippa’s coming over!’
Pippa Daventry was indeed marching towards us, a very cross look on her face, and if the second bell for the beginning of lessons had not gone at that moment, giving us an excuse to rush for Library corridor, away from the worsening rain, I do not know what might have happened.
5
The first lesson after bunbreak was French, and Daisy was mysteriously absent. She stores up excuse letters from mistresses to use in emergencies, and before she slipped away she had pushed one into my hand. I gave it to Mamzelle, who spent the lesson convinced that Daisy was carrying out a most important task for Miss Morris, the Art
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