Part 12 (1/2)

'A number of people?' said Miss Potts, disbelievingly. 'Are you trying to tell me that there are a number of people who hate Moira enough to write her notes like this?'

There was a silence. Miss Potts clicked in exasperation. 'Has Moira so many enemies? And why? I have had no complaints of her as head-girl. Why do you think so many people hate Moira?'

This was very awkward and most embarra.s.sing. Darrell and Sally didn't know what in the world to say. Moira came to their rescue. She was pale, and looked strained.

'I'll tell you who it might be, Miss Potts!' she said. 'It might be Gwen. It might be Maureen. It might even be Alicia.'

'NO!' said both Sally and Darrell together.

Moira went on. 'It might be Catherine. It might be - it might be Bridget.'

'Bridget - do you mean your sister in the fourth?' asked Miss Potts, amazed.

Moira nodded, looking miserable. She wouldn't look at Sally or Darrell. Miss Potts turned to them. 'What do you think of all this?' she demanded.

'Well - it could be any of those except Alicia,' said Darrell. 'Alicia does feel angry with Moira because of something that happened at a rehearsal - but Alicia's not underhanded. If she wanted to tell Moira all those things she'd say them out loud, probably in front of everyone, too! It's certainly not Alicia.'

'I agree with you,' said Miss Potts. 'We ran certainly rule out Alicia. That still leaves four people that Moira thinks detest her enough to write these notes. Moira - it's rather dreadful to feel you have four people around you that might regard you with such bitter feelings, isn't it? What can you have been doing to arouse them?'

Moira said nothing. She knew perfectly well why all four had cause to hate her. She had sneered at Gwen and Maureen unmercifully, and had humiliated them too, on the stage at last week's rehearsal. She had called Catherine a doormat and sneered too at her, for her annoying self-sacrificing ways, and had shoved her to one side, in spite of all the hundreds of things Catherine had done for her.

As for Bridget - well, there never had been any love lost between the sisters. Bridget hated her, she was sure of it. And hadn't Bridget threatened her not so long ago? What had she said, 'I warn you, Moira, you'll be sorry for this. I team you!'

Well - it might be Catherine, it might be Gwen or Maureen, and it might be Bridget. It probably wasn't Alicia - because these letters came from a coward, and n.o.body could call Alicia that!

Who did write those beastly letters? And how could they ever find out?

20 THINGS HAPPEN.

ALL sorts of things happened that week. At the next rehearsal there was another flare-up between Alicia and Moira - a really bad one that ended in Alicia resigning from the show! Betty promptly resigned, too, as co-producer.

It was a terrible blow to Sally and Darrell. 'We can't do without you, Alicia,' wailed Darrell. 'We'll never, never get a demon king like you - and all your wonderful juggling and conjuring and leaping about, too. You'll ruin the whole thing if you resign.'

'If I resign! I have resigned!' said Alicia, looking calm and unruffled, but inwardly seething with anger, disappointment and misery at seeing Darrell so upset. I'm sorry it affects you too - but I'm not working with Moira any more. And nothing in the world will make me go back into the pantomime now - no, not even if Moira herself resigned and came and apologized.'

Darrell knew that Moira would never do that. She was as unbending as Alicia was obstinate.

'Talk about the immovable meeting the irresistible!' she groaned. 'Oh, Alicia - for my sake, withdraw your resignation. Why, it's only three weeks now till the pantomime is presented. I can't rewrite it, and cut out your parts - you come in so often.'

'Darrell, I'm honestly sorry,' said Alicia, looking hara.s.sed now. 'But you know I never go back on my word. It's my pride now that's in the way. Nothing in the world would make me knuckle under to Moira - and that's what I should be doing if I withdrew my resignation.'

Darrell stared hopelessly at Alicia. Defiant, obstinate, strong-willed Alicia - n.o.body could do anything with her once she had made up her mind. She turned away, amazed and furious to find sudden tears in her eyes. But she was so bitterly disappointed. Her lovely pantomime - and such a wonderful demon king - and all that juggling and conjuring out of it now. No one but Alicia could do that.

Sally went with Darrell, trying to comfort her. She, too, was bitterly disappointed, and sighed when she thought of all the rewriting there would be to do - and another demon king to find and train in such a short time. But Darrell felt it most. It was her first big job, the first time she had tried her hand at writing something worth while - and now it was spoilt.

Moira was obstinate too. She would not talk about the matter at all. Nor would she resign. 'All I can say is, I'm sorry it's happened, but it was Alicia who blew up and resigned, not me,' she said. And not one word more would she say about it.

It was Mam'zelle who created the next excitement. She sat down at her desk in Miss Potts' room one day, and announced her intention of turning it out.

'About time, too,' said Miss Potts, dryly. 'You'll probably find the year before last's exam papers there, I should think. I never saw such a collection of rubbish in anyone's desk in my life.'

'Ha, Miss Potts! You wish to be funny?' said Mam'zelle, huffily.

'No,' said Miss Potts. 'Merely truthful.'

Mam'zelle snorted, and took hold of about a hundred loose papers in her desk. She lifted them out and they immediately fell apart and slithered all over the floor. One booklet floated to Miss Potts' feet. She looked at it with interest, for there was a very brightly coloured picture on the cover, showing a conjurer doing tricks. 'New tricks. Old tricks. Tricks to play on your enemies. Tricks to play on your friends,' she read out loud. She glanced at Mam'zelle in astonishment. 'Since when did you think of taking up tricks to play?' she inquired.

'I do not think of it,' said Mam'zelle, depositing another hundred papers on the floor. 'Tiens! Here is the programme of the play the third-formers gave six years ago!'

'What did I tell you?' said Miss Potts. 'You'll probably find the Speeches made at the Opening of the First Term at Malory Towers if you look a little further into your desk.'

'Do not tizz me,' said Mam'zelle. 'I do not like being tizzed.'

'I'm not teasing,' said Miss Potts. 'I'm quite serious. I say - where did you get these trick and conjuring lists from? Look at this one - I'm sure it's got in it all the tricks that Alicia and Betty ever played on you!'

Mam'zelle took the booklets. She was soon completely absorbed in them. She chuckled. She laughed. She said ' Tiens!' and 'Oh, la la!' a dozen times. Miss Potts went on with her work. She was used to Mam'zelle's little ways.

Mam'zelle had never read anything so enthralling in all her life as these booklets that described tricks of all sorts and kinds. She was completely lost in them. She read of machines that could apparently saw people's fingers in half without hurting them - cigarettes with glowing ends that were not really alight - ink spots and jam-clots that could be placed on table-cloths to deceive annoyed mothers or teachers into thinking they were real.

The booklets blandly described these and a hundred others. Mam'zelle was absolutely fascinated. She came to one trick that made her laugh out loud. 'Ah, now listen, Miss Potts,' she began.

'No, Mam'zelle,' said Miss Potts, sternly. 'I've twenty-three disgraceful maths papers to mark that the first form have had the nerve to give in today - and I do NOT want to listen to your recital of childish tricks.'

Mam'zelle sighed and went back to the booklets. She read over again the thing that had so intrigued her. There were two photographs with the description of the trick. One showed a smiling man with ordinary teeth - the other showed the same man - with trick teeth! He looked horrible.

Mam'zelle read the description over again. 'These trick teeth are cleverly made of celluloid, and are shaped to fit neatly over the wearer's own teeth - but project forwards and downwards, and so alter the expression of the wearer's face considerably as soon as he smiles, giving a really terrifying and exceedingly strange appearance.'

Mam'zelle studied the photographs. She tried to imagine herself wearing teeth like that - and suddenly flas.h.i.+ng them at the girls with a smile. Ha! They had dared her to do a trick on them! Mam'zelle had a very very good mind to write for this teeth trick. Perhaps she would wear them at a lacrosse match out in the field - or maybe take the girls for a walk, and keep showing her trick teeth.

Mam'zelle shook with laughter. Ha - so many 'treeks' had those bad girls played on her, it was time their poor old Mam'zelle played a 'treek' on them too. How they would be astonished! How they would stare. How they would laugh afterwards.

Mam'zelle scuffled about among her untidy papers and found her writing-pad. In her slanting French handwriting she wrote for the 'teeth trick' and sent a cheque with the letter. She was delighted. She would not tell even Miss Potts.

'No. I will not tell her. I will suddenly smile at her - like this,' said Mam'zelle to herself - and did a sudden fierce grin - 'and I shall look so strange that she will start back in fright at my horrible teeth.'

Mam'zelle finished the letter and then casually looked through the other trick booklets before throwing them away. And it was then she came across the note. It was written in capitals, very carefully. It was not a nice note. It was headed:

TO FELICITY,.

You think you're so good at games, don't you? Well, it's only because Darrell favours you that you're ever put into any games. Everyone knows that!

It was not signed at all. 'Here is a nasty little note,' said Mam'zelle in disgust, and tossed it to Miss Potts. Miss Potts recognized the printed letters at once - they were exactly the same as those on the anonymous letters sent to Moira.