Part 9 (1/2)

'Every Tuesday evening, and on Friday evenings too for those who want an extra one,' said Moira. 'And the parts will be sent out to everyone tomorrow. For goodness' sake learn them as quickly as you can. It's hopeless to keep reading them when we rehea.r.s.e - you can't act properly like that.'

'You forgot to say that Irene's done the music and Belinda the decorations and Janet's doing the costumes,' said Darrell.

'No, I hadn't,' said Moira, quickly. 'I was coming to that. Anyway, everyone knows it. By the way, we'll be glad of any help for Janet in making the costumes. Anyone good with their needle will be welcomed. Janet will give out the work if you'll be decent enough to ask her for it.'

More clapping. Then a spate of excited talk. This was going to be the best pantomime ever! It would make the whole school sit up! It would bring the house down.

'There's never been a show before where the girls wrote the songs and words and music themselves,' said Winnie. 'My word - won't the Grayling open her eyes!'

A bell went somewhere and everyone got up. 'We'll be at rehearsal! We'll learn our parts! Mavis, what about the singing? Are you going to train the chorus?'

Chattering and calling they all went to their own Towers. Darrell sighed happily and put her arm through Sally's.

'This is about the most exciting thing I've ever done in my life, Sally,' she said. 'You know - I shouldn't be surprised if I don't turn out to be a writer, one of these days!'

16 FELICITY'S FIRST MATCH.

FELICITY came to see Darrell the next day about the match with Wellsbrough School. She looked with bright eyes at her fifth-form sister.

'I say! Fancy me playing in the Fourth School Team! I thought perhaps I might by the end of the term, with luck - but next week. Thanks awfully for putting me in, Darrell.'

'Well, actually - it was Moira who insisted on putting you in,' said Darrell. 'I wanted to - and yet I just wondered if I was thinking favourably of you because you were my sister, you know. Then Moira said you must certainly go in, and in you went.'

'June's awfully disappointed she's not in,' said Felicity. 'She's been practising like anything, Darrell. She pretends she doesn't care, but she does really. I wish she wouldn't say such awful things about you fifth-formers all the time - she really seems to have got her knife into you. It's horrid.'

'She'll get over it,' said Darrell. 'We don't lose any sleep over young June, I can tell you!'

'Will you be able to come and watch the Wellsbrough match?' asked Felicity, eagerly. 'Oh do. I shall play ever so much better if you're there, yelling and cheering.'

'Of course I'll come,' said Darrell. 'And I'll yell like anything - so just be sure you give me something to yell for!'

The first-formers prayed for a fine day for their match. It was to be at home, not away, and as it was the first time they had played Wellsbrough Fourth Team, they were really excited about it.

The senior school smiled to see the 'babies' so excited. They remembered how they, too, had felt when they had the delight of playing in an important match for the very first time.

'Nice to see them so keen,' said Moira to Darrell. 'I think I'll get my lacrosse stick and go and give them a bit of coaching before dinner. I've got half an hour.'

'I'll fetch your stick,' said Catherine at once, in her usual doormat voice.

'No thanks, Saint Catherine,' answered Moira, 'I'm still able to walk to the locker and reach my own stick.'

The day of the match dawned bright and clear, a magnificent October day. The trees round the playing fields shone red and brown and yellow in their autumn colours. The breeze from the sea was salty and crisp. All the girls rejoiced as they got up that morning and looked out of the window. Malory Towers was so lovely on a day like this.

The happiest girls, of course, were the small first-formers, excited twelve-year-olds who talked to one another at the tops of their voices without stopping. How they ever heard what anyone else said was a mystery.

Miss Potts, the first-form mistress, was lenient that morning. So was Mam'zelle who was always excited herself when any of her cla.s.ses were.

'Well, so today is your match?' she said to the first form. 'You will play well, n'est-ce pas? You will win all the goals. I shall come to watch. And for the girl that wins a goal . . .'

'Shoots a goal, Mam'zelle,' said Susan.

'Shoots! Ah yes - but you have no gun to shoot a goal,' said Mam'zelle, who never could learn the language of sports. 'Well, well - for the girl who shoots a goal I will say ”no French prep tomorrow”!'

'But, Mam'zelle - that's not fair!' cried a dozen voices. 'We're not all in the match - only Felicity and Susan and Vera.'

'Ah, I forgot,' said Mam'zelle. 'That is so. Then what shall I say?'

'Say you'll let us all off French prep for the rest of the week if we win!' called Felicity.

'No, no,' said Mam'zelle, shocked. 'For one day only I said. Now, it is understood - if you win your match no French prep for you tomorrow!'

'You're a peach, Mam'zelle,' called a delighted first-former.

'Comment!' said Mam'zelle, astonished. 'You call me a peach. Never have I . . .'

'It's all right, Mam'zelle - it's a compliment,' said Felicity. Peaches are wizard.'

Mam'zelle gave it up. 'Now - we will have our verbs,' she said. 'Page thirty-five, s'il vous plait, and no more talking.'

The Wellsbrough girls arrived at twenty past two in a big coach. They were rather older than the Malory Towers team, and seemed much bigger. The Malory Towers girls felt a little nervous. The two captains shook hands and the teams nodded and smiled at one another.

The games mistress blew her whistle and the teams came round her. The captains tossed for ends.

The teams took their positions in the field. Felicity gripped her lacrosse stick as if it might leap from her hand if she didn't. She put on a grim expression that made everyone who saw it smile.

Her knees shook just a little! How she hoped n.o.body could see them. It was silly to be nervous in a match - just the time not to be!

'Good luck,' whispered Susan, who was not far off. 'Shoot a goal!'

Felicity nodded, still looking grim.

Darrell and Moira and Sally were together, watching. Most of the other fifth-formers were there, too, because many of them helped the younger ones and were interested in their play. A good sprinkling of the other forms were also there. Wellsbrough was a splendid school for sport and usually sent out first-cla.s.s match-teams.

'Your small sister looks pretty fierce,' said Sally to Darrell. 'Look at her! She means to do and dare all right!'

The match began. The ball shot out down the field, and the girls began to race after it, picking it up in their nets, throwing it, catching it, knocking it out again, picking it up, tackling one another and making the onlookers yell with excitement.

The Wellsbrough team shot the first goal. It went clean into the net, quite impossible to stop. The twelve-year-old goal-keeper was very downcast. One to Wellsbrough!

Felicity gritted her teeth. Wellsbrough had the lead now. She shot a look at Darrell. Yes, there she was, never taking her eyes off the ball. Felicity longed to do something really spectacular and make Darrell dance and cheer with pride. But the Wellsbrough team was tough, and n.o.body could do anything very startling. Always there was a Wellsbrough girl ready to knock the ball out of a Malory Towers lacrosse net as soon as it was there!

And always there was a Wellsbrough girl who seemed to be able to run faster than any of the home team. It was maddening. Felicity and Susan became very out of breath and panted and puffed as they tore down the field, their hearts beating like pistons!

And then Susan shot a goal! It was most unexpected. She was tearing down the field, far from the goal, with two Wellsbrough girls after her, and Felicity running up to catch the ball if Susan pa.s.sed it.