‘Emily Backhouse. Daphne Taylor. Daphne, you'd better go and do your hair before lunch, it's dreadfully untidy. Joan Betworthy. Judith Dunbar.’
A large and heavy parcel, wrapped in thick hessian, strongly tied, labelled and plastered in foreign stamps. ‘Judith Dunbar?’
‘She's not here,’ somebody said.
‘Where is she?’
‘I don't know.’
‘Well, why isn't she here? Someone go and fetch her. No, don't bother. Who's in her dorm?’
‘I am.’
Deirdre looked for the girl who had spoken, and saw, at the back of the shoving throng, Loveday Carey-Lewis. She frowned. She had taken against this wayward new-comer, who she had decided was altogether too big for her boots, having already caught her twice running in the corridors, a cardinal sin, as well as surprising her eating a peppermint in the cloakroom.
‘Judith should be here.’
‘It's not my fault,’ said Loveday.
‘Don't be cheeky.’ A small extra penance seemed to be the order of the day. ‘You'd better take it to her. And tell her that she should attend Letters every day. And it's jolly heavy, so mind you don't drop it.’
‘Where shall I find her?’
‘No idea, you'll have to look. Rosemary Castle. A letter for you…’
Loveday moved forward and gathered the enormous parcel to her bony chest. It was extremely heavy. Clutching it tightly, she edged away from the table and set off across the polished floor, through the long dining-room, and so into the corridor which led to classrooms. She went to Judith's classroom first, but it was empty, so turned back and started up the wide uncarpeted staircase, headed for the dormitories.
A prefect was descending.
‘Heavens, what have you got there?’
‘It's for Judith Dunbar.’
‘Who told you to take it?’
‘Deirdre,’ Loveday told her smugly, safe in the knowledge that she had authority on her side. The prefect was discomfited. ‘Oh, well, all right. But don't either of you be late for lunch.’
Loveday stuck out her tongue at the prefect's retreating back view and continued on her way. Her burden became heavier with each step. What on earth could be in it? She reached the landing, set off down another long passage, finally came to the door of the dormitory, pushed it open with her shoulder and staggered in.
Judith was there, washing her hands in the single basin which they all shared.
‘I've found you,’ said Loveday, and she tipped the parcel onto Judith's bed, and, as though exhausted, collapsed beside it.
Her sudden and unexpected appearance, bouncing in like a jack-in-the-box, the reason for it, and the fact that, for the first time, they were alone together, with no other person to intrude, caused Judith to be overcome by a painful and maddening shyness. From that moment in Medways, when she had first set eyes on the Carey-Lewis mother and daughter, she had thought Loveday quite fascinating, and longed to get to know her. So the most disappointing aspect of her first couple of weeks at St Ursula's had been the fact that Loveday had totally ignored her presence, leaving Judith with the sad conviction that she was such a nonentity that Loveday did not even recognise her.
She has a friend who is a day girl called Vicky Payton, she had written to her mother, but the cool little sentence had been carefully framed to allay suspicion, because her natural pride would not allow her mother to think that she was hurt or upset by Loveday's indifference. At break, and after games, she had covertly watched Loveday and Vicky together, drinking their mid-morning milk, or walking back to school after hockey, chattering and laughing and enviably intimate.
It wasn't that Judith hadn't made friends of her own. She knew all the girls in her class by now, and the names of everybody in the Junior Common Room, but there was nobody special, not a real friend like Heather Warren, and she had no intention of making do with second-best. She remembered her father saying, ‘Beware of the first man who speaks to you on the P & O boat, for he will surely be the ship's bore,’ and his wise words had stayed with her. After all, boarding-school was not all that different, for one was thrown into the company of a lot of people with whom one had little in common, and it took time to sift out the grain from the sand.
But Loveday Carey-Lewis, obscurely, was different. She was special. And now she was here.
‘I've been told to give you a row because you weren't at Letters.’
‘I was filling my pen and I got ink on my hands. And it simply won't come off.’
‘Try a pumice stone.’
‘I can't bear the feel.’
‘No, I know, it's horrible, isn't it? Anyway, Deirdre told me to find you and bring you this. It weighs a ton. Do come and open it, I want to know what's inside.’
Judith shook the water from her hands, reached for a towel and started to dry them.
‘I think it's probably my father's Christmas present to me.’
‘Christmas present! But it's February.’
‘I know. It's taken ages.’ She joined Loveday on her bed, the impressive package parked between them. She saw the stamps, and the postmarks and the customs labels. She smiled. ‘That's what it is. I thought it was never coming.’
‘Why's it taken so long?’
‘It's come from Colombo. In Ceylon.’
‘Does he live in Ceylon?’
‘Yes. He works there.’
‘What about your mother?’
‘She's just gone back to be with him. She's taken my little sister with her.’
‘You mean you're all alone? Where do you live?’
‘Nowhere, just now. I mean, we haven't got a house in this country. So I stay with Aunt Louise.’
‘Who's she, when she's at home?’
‘I told you. My aunt. She lives at Penmarron.’
‘Haven't you got brothers and sisters?’
‘Just Jess.’
‘Is she the one who's gone with your mother?’
‘That's right.’
‘Goodness, that's awful. I am sorry for you. I didn't know. When I saw you in the shop…’
‘So you did see me?’
‘Yes, of course I did. Do you think I'm blind?’
‘No. It's just that you didn't talk to me. I thought perhaps you hadn't recognised me.’
‘Well, you haven't talked to me.’
Which was true enough. Judith tried to explain. ‘You're always with Vicky Payton. I thought you were her friend.’
‘Of course I am. We were at baby school together. I've known her forever.’
‘I thought you were her best friend.’
‘Oh, best friends!’ Loveday mocked, her vivid face alight with amusement. ‘You sound like someone out of an Angela Brazil book. Anyway,’ she pointed out, ‘we're talking now, so that's all right.’ She laid her hand on the parcel. ‘Do open it. I'm bursting to see what's inside, and as I've humped it all the way up the stairs, the least you can do is to get it unwrapped and show me.’
‘I know what's inside. It's what I asked for. A cedarwood box with a Chinese lock.’
‘Then hurry. Quickly. Or it'll be the lunch bell and we'll have to go.’
But Judith knew that she couldn't open the present in a hurry. She had waited so long, and now it was here, and she wanted to keep the excitement going, and, once it was open, have time to examine every single detail of her new and longed-for possession.
‘There's not time now. I'll do it later. Before supper.’
Loveday became exasperated. ‘But I want to see.’
‘We'll open it together. I promise I won't look without you here. We'll change terribly quickly for supper, and then we'll have heaps of time. It's going to take ages to get all the wrappings off. I can tell, just by looking at it. Let's wait. And it'll be something lovely to look forward to all afternoon.’
‘Oh, all right.’ Loveday was persuaded, but obviously against her will. ‘How you can be so strong-minded I can't imagine.’
‘It just makes it last
longer.’
‘Have you got a photo of your dad?’ Loveday's eyes moved to Judith's white-painted chest of drawers, identical to the other five placed around the dormitory.
‘Yes, but it's not very good.’ She reached for it and handed it to Loveday to inspect.
‘Is that him, in the shorts? He looks quite nice. And is this your mother? Yes, of course it is. I recognise her, too. Why isn't Jess here?’
‘Because she wasn't born. She's only four. Dad's never seen her.’
‘Never seen her? I can't believe it. What's he going to say when he does see her? She'll think he's just another man, or an uncle or something. Would you like to see my photographs?’
‘Oh, yes, please.’
They got up from the bed and went to Loveday's end of the dormitory, which was much nicer and lighter, being so close to the big windows. The school rule was that you were allowed two photographs, but Loveday had about six.
‘This is Mummy, looking perfectly beautiful, all dressed up in her white fox furs. And this is Pops…isn't he heaven? It was taken one day when he was shooting pheasants, that's why he's got a gun. And he's got Tiger with him, Tiger's his Labrador. And this is my sister Athena, and this is my brother Edward, and this is Pekoe the Peke, and you met him in the shop too.’
Judith found herself overwhelmed. She had never imagined anyone could have such a handsome, beautiful, and glamorous lot of relations, all looking as though they had stepped from the pages of some glossy society magazine, like The Tatler.
‘How old is Athena?’
‘She's eighteen. She had her London Season last year, and then she went off to Switzerland to learn French. She's still there.’
‘Is she going to be a French mistress or something?’
‘Golly, no. She's never done a stroke of work in her life.’
‘What will she do when she comes back from Switzerland?’
‘Stay in London, probably. Mummy's got a little house in Cadogan Mews. Athena's got strings of boy-friends, and she's always going away for the weekend and things.’
It sounded an enviable existence. ‘She looks like a film star,’ Judith said a little wistfully.
‘She does, a bit.’
‘And your brother?’
‘Edward? He's sixteen. He's at Harrow.’
‘I've got a cousin of sixteen. He's at Dartmouth. He's called Ned. Your…’ She hesitated. ‘Your mother doesn't look old enough to have almost grown-up children.’
‘Everybody says that. It's so boring.’ Loveday set the last photograph down, and then settled herself with a thump on her own narrow, white-covered bed. ‘Do you like this place?’ she asked abruptly.
‘What? School, you mean? It's all right.’
‘Did you want to come here?’
‘Not particularly. But I had to. I had to start boarding-school.’
‘Because of your mother going away?’
Judith nodded.
‘I wanted to come here,’ Loveday told her. ‘Because I wanted to be near home. Last September I was sent to the most dreadful place in Hampshire, and I was so homesick that I cried for weeks and then I ran away.’
Judith, who already knew this, having been told by the shop assistant in Medways, was filled anew with admiration. ‘I can't imagine anyone being so brave.’
‘It wasn't particularly. I just made up my mind that I couldn't bear the horrible place for another instant. I had to get home. Running away always sounds so difficult, but it was actually quite easy. I just caught a bus to Winchester Station, and then got on a train.’
‘Did you have to change platforms?’
‘Oh, yes, twice, but I just asked people. And then when I got to Penzance I rang up Mummy from the public call-box and told her to come and fetch me. And when we got home I told her she was never, ever to send me far away again and she promised she wouldn't. So I came here, and when Miss Catto heard about running away, she said I could be a weekly boarder, because she didn't want it happening again.’
‘So…’ But there was no time for more of this fascinating conversation, as the whole building was suddenly rent by the clangour of the school bell, summoning them to lunch. ‘Oh, bother, I can't bear it. I hate that bell, and it's Tuesday, so there'll be prunes and custard for pudding. Come on, we'd better go or we'll get a row.’
They sped downstairs, to assemble in their classrooms. But, before they parted, there was time for one last exchange.
‘Before supper, in the dormitory. And we'll open the parcel together.’
‘I can't wait.’
After that it felt as if the whole colour and the shape of the day had been miraculously changed. Judith had experienced, previously, the elations and swings of mood which affect every child; the sudden, reasonless gusts of happiness, even ecstasy. But this was different. An event. A series of events. Her Christmas present had come at last, and because of this the first overtures of friendship with Loveday Carey-Lewis had been made, and there was still the ceremonial unwrapping of the cedarwood box to look forward to. As the afternoon progressed, her high spirits were compounded by other unexpected bonuses, and it began to seem as though her day had been charmed and nothing could go wrong. At lunch it wasn't prunes and custard which she hated for pudding, but vanilla sponge with syrup, which was a treat. Then she got eight out often for her French verb test, and when it was time to don games gear and head for the windy hockey pitches, she saw that the grey rain of the morning had blown away. The sky was clear, a pristine blue; the breeze was perfectly bearable, and early daffodils, lining the paths which led to the games fields, were beginning to open into full yellow flower. Brimming with physical energy, she even enjoyed the hockey, racing up and down the wing as the game moved to and fro, and whacking the leather ball with effortless precision whenever it came her way. So well did she perform that at the end of the match Miss Fanshaw, the games mistress, a sturdy lady with an Eton crop and pea-whistle, who was known for being grudging with her praise, said enthusiastically, ‘Well done, Judith. Go on playing like that, and we'll have you on the team.’
And then it was tea, and then prep, and at last time to change for supper. She fled upstairs, two steps at a time, to the dormitory, drew the white cotton curtains of her cubicle, and tore off her clothes. She even managed to grab a bathroom before anyone else got there first, but even so, by the time she returned to the dormitory, Loveday was waiting for her, sitting on Judith's bed, and already dressed in the drab green gabardine frock with the white linen collar and cuffs, which was their regulation garb for the evenings.
‘Gosh, you've been quick,’ Judith exclaimed.
‘It was only netball, so I wasn't too sweaty. Hurry up and get dressed, and then we can start. I've got my nail scissors here, to cut the string.’
Judith flung on her clothes any old how, buttoning the front of her dress as she stuffed her feet into her shoes, then slapped a brush over her hair, tied it back with a ribbon, and was ready. She took the scissors and cut the string, but then had to pick away at the coarse stitches with which the hessian had been sewn into place. After the hessian was a layer of brown paper, and then a thick wadding of newspaper, which was exciting enough in itself, being covered with strange Eastern newsprint and characters. Everything smelt spicy and foreign. The last wrapping was shiny white paper. This was torn away, and, at last, the Christmas gift revealed. They sat in silence and gazed at it.
Finally, Loveday broke the silence. ‘It's divine,’ she breathed, and the words came out like a satisfied sigh.
And it was indeed very beautiful, more splendid than Judith had dared to hope. The wood was the colour of honey, smooth as satin and intricately carved all over. Its ornamental latch was silver, embossed in a flower-like design, and the Chinese lock slipped into this like a little padlock. The key to the lock was fastened, by means of a strip of glued paper, to the lid of the box. Loveday instantly removed this and handed the key to Judith, and she slid it into the side of the lock, and a hidden spring was
touched and released, and the padlock opened. She lifted the latch and raised the lid and a mirror slid forward to prop the lid open. The front of the box could be parted, opening out like wings, to reveal two miniature chests of drawers. The scent of cedar filled the air. Loveday said, ‘Did you know it was going to be like this?’
‘Something like this. My mother had one in Colombo. That's why I asked for it. But it wasn't anything nearly as lovely as this.’
She opened one of the little drawers. It slid sweetly and smoothly, revealing dovetailed joints and a gleaming red lacquer finish within.
‘What a place to keep your treasures! And you can lock it up. That's the best. And hang the key around your neck. Goodness, you're lucky…let's close it up again, and lock it, and then I can have a go with the key…’
They might have played with it forever had not Matron come bouncing into the dormitory. She heard their voices and flung back the cubicle curtains with an angry swish, and, much startled, they looked up to see her glaring down at them, her appearance not improved by the nurse's veil which she wore low on her eyebrows, as though she were a nun.
‘What are you two doing, whispering away? You know perfectly well, you're not allowed in cubicles together.’
Judith opened her mouth to apologise, because she was rather frightened of Matron, but Loveday wasn't frightened of anybody.
‘Do look, Matron, isn't it gorgeous? Judith got it from her father in Ceylon, for Christmas, only it's taken ages to get here.’
‘And why are you in Judith's cubicle?’
‘I was only helping her to open it. Oh, do look. It's got a lock, and darling little drawers…’ Displaying its charms, she opened one to show Matron, and did this in such a beguiling manner that Matron's fury abated slightly, and she even took a step forward to peer through her spectacles at the object upon the bed.
‘I must say,’ she admitted, ‘that's very neat. What a pretty thing.’ And then she reverted to her normal hectoring manner. ‘Where on earth are you going to keep it, Judith? There's no space in your locker.’