Urgent Magazine Meeting 7 pm tomorrow (Wednesday) in the Second Year Common Room. Contributions for this term's Trebizon Journal required by next Monday. If you have anything suitable please bring it with you tomorrow. This will be the GoIden Jubilee edition and we want our House represented.

  Ishbel Anderson Magazine Officer

  Juniper House

  'Pity there's no-one here to read it at the moment!' said Tish.

  'Where are they all?' asked Rebecca, suddenly realizing. 'The place is deserted.'

  'Most likely over in the library getting a pep talk from the Head. That's where we went on our first evening. She likes to see all the new girls when they arrive. Looks' em over!'

  'Then –?'

  'Don't worry, you'll get a message when she wants to see you,' said Tish. 'And don't look so scared. She's nice, really nice. Come on, you can see our Common Room now, it's just like this.'

  They doubled back down east staircase, right along the ground floor corridor and up west. Tish threw open the door of the Second Year Common Room.

  'Hi, Tish!'

  'How are you?'

  Girls were lounging around in chairs and some were lying on the rugs on the floor, reading. They crowded round the notice as it was pinned up. The notice-board was usually a great focal point of interest in their school life.

  'The kitchen's just opposite, like to see it?' asked Tish, leading Rebecca out into the corridor. 'We make tea and coffee there, and our own cocoa at bed-time –'

  She got no further. A tall, pretty girl of seventeen appeared at the top of the staircase. She was a prefect called Pippa Fellowes-Walker.

  'Rebecca?' she asked. 'Rebecca Mason?'

  Rebecca nodded, feeling scared.

  'Run upstairs and wash, and brush your hair. I'll wait for you here. Miss Welbeck will see you in ten minutes.'

  Rebecca's throat felt dry. She bolted upstairs. Summoned to see the Principal of Trebizon School! She collected her wash things from the dormitory and found a big wash room right next door. There was a long row of wash basins and a row of hooks to hang flannels on. There was also a toothbrush rack with brush handles hanging down all colours of the rainbow, and just one slot free for her own new, bright blue toothbrush.

  When she returned to the landing below she found the prefect chatting amiably with Tish, not at all god-like and superior: not like Elizabeth Exton. She gave Rebecca a friendly smile. 'You'll do! Come on, follow me.'

  Pippa liked the look of this new girl with the fair hair and the delicate features; there was something intelligent, and artistic-looking about her.

  They went downstairs and out onto the terrace and crossed the quadrangle gardens to the back of the old school. Pippa took Rebecca in through the same glass door that she had passed through earlier with Miss Morgan, and back into that awe-inspiring entrance hall with its magnificent muralled staircase.

  On the first floor, the prefect knocked on an oak-panelled door, and then looked into the room. Then she came out and spoke quietly.

  'Miss Welbeck will see you now. Find your own way back? Okay. In you go.'

  Afterwards, Rebecca always got a pleasant glow when she recalled that first meeting with Miss Madeleine Welbeck. Within moments of entering the panelled study, filled with the scent of roses, her fear left her. She saw a slim woman in tweeds, standing by a large window overlooking the entrance forecourt, watching a car drive off. She caught a glimpse of oak trees and park land in the distance and here in the room the evening light catching Miss Welbeck's fair-to-silver hair as she turned.

  'Welcome to Trebizon, Rebecca.'

  Rebecca felt herself to be in the presence of someone quiet and confident whom she could admire. She found Miss Welbeck had a tremendous effect on her, and when she emerged from her study, ten minutes later, she felt quite inspired. The Principal's last words were still ringing in her ears.

  'Aim high, Rebecca. Don't expect success to come too easily, but keep on reaching up. Remember: "Two men looked through the prison bars, one saw mud and the other saw stars". Don't look down at the mud but reach up for the stars.'

  What a clever thing to say! That bit about prison bars – could Miss Welbeck possibly have guessed how Rebecca had been feeling earlier? Reach up for the stars! Yes – why not? Why shouldn't she?

  She walked down the magnificent staircase, gazing up at the richly coloured murals. She no longer felt overwhelmed by it, but inspired. Small and insignificant though she was, she must make her mark at Trebizon School, and justify her presence.

  'Write something for that magazine!' had been her father's last words to her. What an honour it would be if she could get something printed in the Golden Jubilee edition of The Trebizon Journal! Of course, thinking of the mighty Elizabeth Exton, that wasn't just aiming high – it was aiming for the moon. But why not try? Why not?

  When Rebecca re-entered Juniper House she heard a hubbub of voices echoing along the corridor, coming from the direction of the Hobbies' Room. The door was open and it sounded as though there was quite a crowd in there. What was going on? She decided to find out!

  They were all gathered round the big table by the window, the typewriter table. There was a large carton near the door, its packing removed. Rebecca recognized it as the mysterious box that Mara had brought back to school with her. Miss Morgan and Tish had carried something over to the table and set it down next to the typewriter, and Mara was dusting it with a cloth.

  'It's smashing!' said Josselyn Vining, tapping Mara on the shoulder with her badminton racquet. 'Do you mean to say your father didn't want it?'

  'We were all expecting some grotty old thing!' laughed Tish. 'And Mara turns up with this.'

  'It was down in the Southampton Office,' said Mara, with great pleasure. Her father was the owner of Leonodis Shipping Lines. 'It was much too small for them and now they have a new one as big –' Mara spread her arms out,' – as big as this.'

  Rebecca's curiosity was at fever pitch – what was it? She stood on tip-toe behind the other girls and at last she could see. A duplicating machine! Just a little, hand-operated model, but quite modern. Beside it were boxes of stencils and duplicating paper, all that was required to put it into action.

  'I think this is the best place, next to the typewriter,' said Miss Morgan. 'Now this corner of the Hobbies' Room can be your publishing office! I look forward to seeing what you publish!'

  So saying, Miss Morgan moved away and, as the crowd parted to let her through, she walked past Rebecca and smiled and went over to the doorway. Before leaving, she called back, 'Cocoa time in ten minutes!'

  'Yes, Miss Morgan,' responded the girls, already closing round the duplicator again.

  Rebecca was beginning to feel quite excited. A miniature publishing office – what fun! – and what were they going to publish?

  Even as she mentally asked that question, Tish jumped up on to a chair and answered it. 'Well, this is it! I've been practising typing in the holidays to be able to type the stencils. Mara has turned up with the machine, just as she said she would. From now on we can produce our own House publication –The Juniper Journal!'

  'Hurray!' There was cheering and stamping of feet.

  'I'll announce it properly at the magazine meeting tomorrow. We'll make it the best thing in the school –' She was interrupted by more cheers, but ended on a modest note. 'Except for The Trebizon Journal itself, of course.'

  As Rebecca came out of the Hobbies' Room with a bunch of other girls, she was met by Debbie Rickard in the corridor. Debbie immediately put her arm through Rebecca's.

  'Hallo! I've been looking for you. Where've you been?'

  'I had to go and see the Principal.'

  'Come and have cocoa, I'll show you where we make it.'

  They made cocoa in the big warm kitchen on the first floor and sat and drank it, munching two digestive biscuits. Drinking cocoa, either in the kitchen or in the comfortable Common Room across the corridor, was a nightly ritual at Trebizon School.

  'How did you get on with the Principal?'

  'Fine,' said Rebecca, hugging to herself her secret resolve to make something of herself at her new school. 'She's nice.'

  Debbie Rickard was in a different dormitory from Rebecca, but they were to be in the same form, II Alpha. Before they parted, Debbie said, 'Shall we sit next to each other in lessons tomorrow?'

  'I'd like that,' said Rebecca gratefully. Tomorrow would be her first full day at Trebizon and she was pleased that she would not have to face it alone. She had already made a friend, of sorts.

  She went up to her dormitory. When she had said goodbye to her parents that morning, Rebecca had been dreading her first night at boarding school. She imagined that she might toss and turn all night in her strange surroundings, feeling terribly homesick. In fact, she lay in bed and tried to plan what she would write for the school magazine. Her eyelids got heavier and heavier.

  All round her, girls were whispering and running about and discussing the holidays, until the duty prefect came in and said in a stem voice, 'Shut up! Lights out!'

  But Rebecca knew nothing of this, for she was already fast asleep.

  SIX

  DEBBIE IS SPITEFUL

  The first full day at Trebizon, Wednesday, Rebecca still did not feel a twinge of homesickness. The hours were too crowded for that and, in the few quiet times, she had something special to keep her thoughts occupied: her secret resolve to try and write something for The Trebizon Journal.

  After the rising bell went, she knelt up on her pillow and pulled back the curtains. She stared in surprise at the trees and blue sea beyond and just for a moment wondered where she was.

  Girls were hurrying to and from the wash room; some were already scrambling into their clothes.

  'Where's my tie?' shouted someone.

  'Hallo, Rebecca,' said a girl in a pale green dressing gown, with sandy hair, passing the foot of the bed. 'Sleep well?'

  'Fine, thanks.'

  It was only after she had gone that Rebecca realized the girl was Sue Murdoch, without her glasses. Spectacles suited her well, but without them she looked entirely different. She had rather a Slavonic face, with high cheekbones. Rebecca could just imagine her on the platform in a big concert hall, playing the violin, when she was grown up.

  Rebecca washed and dressed in a hurry, but she was still brushing her hair when Tish and Sue came past.

  'Buck up! Breakfast in five minutes. You're on Joss Vining's table – where you sat last night, remember? Okay?'

  Rebecca would have liked them to have waited for her, but told herself not to be such a baby. She went down and entered the dining hall with a throng of other girls; at least she wasn't late! She found the right table and an empty seat, next to Sally Elphinstone this time. To her regret, Tish was right at the other end of the table, talking madly as usual.

  'Why's the seat next to me always left till last?' asked Sally in mock dismay. 'As if I didn't know.'

  'You should go on a diet, Elf,' said Judy Sharp. 'Don't let her squeeze you off the table, Rebecca.'

  'There's plenty of room!' laughed Rebecca, and turning said, 'Is that what they call you – Elf –?'

  'That's right, because of my elfin figure,' said the plump girl cheerfully. 'Elfin Elphinstone, that's me. Help yourself to cereal and the milk's in the big jug. Oi – Tish – don't take all the muesli, pass it up this way. I'm fading away.'

  Rebecca ate a hearty breakfast. There was much chatter and laughter on her table and so theirs was one of the last to finish. She was still eating toast when Debbie Rickard passed by from another table. Although she had sat there on the first evening, Joss Vining's table was not Debbie's proper one.

  'Don't forget, Rebecca! We'll sit together in lessons.' She bent her head close for a second. 'See you after Assembly.'

  Rebecca's pleasure was slightly marred by the look on Elf's face as she watched Debbie walk on. What was the plump girl raising her eyebrows about?

  The assembly hall was immediately above the dining hall, and had a very high ceiling. Outside the french windows on either side of the hall, balconies ran its entire length. As the girls filed in, a mistress played stirring music on a grand piano.

  When the whole school was assembled, the music stopped and the rows of girls stood silent as a figure entered. Miss Welbeck walked the length of the hall, her black gown flapping, went up on to the stage and stood behind a table. She placed her hymn book and some notices on the polished surface beside a bowl of chrysanthemums, then gazed around the hall.

  'Good morning, girls.'

  'Good morning, Miss Welbeck.'

  The Principal of Trebizon School had arrived to take Assembly and the new school year had officially begun.

  After Assembly, Rebecca was pleased to discover that most lessons took place in the old building, the 18th century manor house that formed the heart of the school. The science laboratories and home economics rooms were in the modern part of school, but the form rooms were in the old building and II Alpha was a quaint room with sloping, uneven floors and old-fashioned windows.

  There were nine double desks in three rows in the room and Rebecca sat next to Debbie in the front row. Of the other sixteen girls in her form, Rebecca recognized several from her dining table, including Tish, Sue, Joss Vining, Judy Sharp and Sally Elphinstone and two more from her dormitory. She would soon get to know the others. Mara Leonodis was not there.

  She liked Miss Heath, her form-mistress, at once and soon discovered that she also took them for English, Rebecca's favourite subject. At the end of the English lesson Miss Heath said, 'Now for your prep. I want an essay written, please. All essays will be handed in on Friday morning. Here are the subjects.'

  She chalked them up on the blackboard:

  A WINTER'S MORNING.

  MY ADVENTURE IN SPACE.

  THE QUARREL.

  The girls scribbled the headings down in their rough books as Miss Heath left the room. The maths mistress was waiting outside.

  'Which one will you do?' asked Debbie.

  'The first one,' replied Rebecca at once. She was glad they had until Friday to write the essay; today was only Wednesday. She wanted to make it really good. Once again her mind went back to her interview with the Principal, and her resolve to try and make her mark at her new school.

  'Coming to watch TV?' asked Debbie after tea.

  'I'm going to write my essay,' said Rebecca.

  'But you can do it tomorrow night!' said Debbie in surprise. She always left her prep as long as possible. So did Rebecca, but only when the subject didn't interest her. 'Besides, you might miss the magazine meeting, if you're interested in that sort of thing.'

  'I'll be back in time for that!' said Rebecca confidently.

  'See you there, then.'

  Rebecca wouldn't have missed the magazine meeting for anything. She would have liked to explain to Debbie that she wanted to make a start on her English essay because then, tomorrow, she might have time to start thinking about what she could write for The Trebizon Journal. But she said nothing; she had the feeling that Debbie might laugh at her for being so ambitious.

  In the quiet peace of the library, Rebecca wrote her essay in rough. Older girls had studies in their boarding houses, but younger girls were required to do prep in their form rooms or in the school library. Since discovering the library during the course of the day, there had been no question in Rebecca's mind.

  It was a beautiful room, the library of the original manor house, with some rare books housed there. French windows led out on to the terrace, overlooking the main forecourt of the school with a fine view of park land beyond. She worked out that Miss Welbeck's study must be immediately above the library. Occasionally, cars drew up as people came and went from the school and here Rebecca somehow felt in touch with the outside world.

  It was nearly seven o'clock when she finished her essay. She could touch it up later, and copy it into her brand new English exercise book, but now she must go to the magazine meeting!

  The Second Year Common Room was packed out with both First and Second Years, and Tish was kneeling up on a chair to take the meeting. There was a wire basket on the table beside her.

  'This meeting is really to tell First Years about the school magazine, and how things are selected for it, and also to collect contributions from Second Years, who've had all the holidays to do something.'

  Tish then quickly explained how her position as Magazine Officer made her a 'mini editor' of The Trebizon Journal, just as she had explained it to Rebecca on the train journey down.

  'So you First Years have still got a few days,' she ended. 'But I must have everything in by eight o'clock next Monday evening, that's the final deadline. I'll be sitting in here from seven o'clock onwards. You, too, Rebecca –' she added, catching her eye encouragingly. 'You've still got time.'

  Debbie nudged Rebecca hard. 'She's got a hope!' she whispered, and Rebecca went red. She had been quite uplifted by Tish's encouragement. She was glad, very glad, that she had confided nothing of her secret ambition to Debbie.

  'We'll have another meeting next Wednesday,' Tish was saying. 'Same time, same place. I'll have a short list of the best entries and we'll pass them round and vote. The best one will be gold starred and one or two others will go up as well. Okay? Now, Second Years come and put your stuff in this basket – but nobody go yet, please.'

  Girls shuffled up with their poems, essays and drawings and placed them in the wire basket. Roberta Jones hung back till last and then strode up and slapped her poems on top of the pile, looking satisfied. Now Tish would have to read hers first!

  'The other thing I want to talk about is The Juniper Journal. We're going to have our own house publication this term. Even if you don't get anything in the school magazine, and most of you won't, we're going to need lots of stuff or The J.J. Verses, jokes, items of news. Be thinking about it. As soon as we've done our best, as far as this term's school magazine is concerned, we'll get The J.J. organized. That means a meeting some time next week to elect an editor and committee. I'll put a notice up in both Common Rooms.'

 

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