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The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10 http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=3660

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Nov 30, 2007 5:05 pm ]
Post subject:	The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
I've been updating this on the original thread (by kind permission of Dorian), but I think it's better to keep the two versions separate. Here are the bits I had added to the previous thread: Chapter 24 “Come on – let’s go and look!” said Daisy. The middles looked at eachother. Several of them were playing Monopoly at the big table in the middle of the room. “Shall we go?” said Nancy Canton, whose only property was the Waterworks “No – I want to see how this comes out!” replied Mary Shaw, a competitive young person who was planning to build a hotel on Piccadilly on her next turn. “I’m too comfortable by the fire,” added Melanie Kerdec, “it’ll be cold in the hall!” In the end, the exploring party consisted only of Beth, Daisy, Isabel and Janet. The four of them crept up the stairs to the great hall, trying not to make any noise, and surprised at how may of the treads creaked. They didn’t normally creak that much! Beth turned the door-handle carefully and the door swung open. In the twilight of a rainy November afternoon the hall looked dim and mysterious, and quite capable of harbouring any number of ghosts. “Should we put the light on?” asked Daisy “Better not,” replied Janet, “someone might see it.” “What will we do if someone finds us here?” asked Isabel. “I know,” said Janet, “we can say we came to see if the Library was open, and then we got interested in the pictures and things. It’s not quite a lie – I am interested, specially in the fireplaces - there are sort of sculptured pictures at the back of them – there’s a sailing shipin one. I wonder why they put it there? You wouldn’t really see it when the fire was lit.” She switched on a couple of lights, and walked quietly to the library door. The library was a small room off the Hall, with floor-to-ceiling bookcases around three of the walls; the fourth wall was was covered with beautiful wallpaper with elizabethan-looking flowers on a gold background and had a mullioned window overlooking the park. At the moment, however, it was firmly locked. The girls turned their attention to Puck’s small door, though Janet took a good look at the bas-relief in the back of one of the fierplaces as they passed. The door was a little over 3 feet high and set into a pointed archway. There was a small round wooden handle and a huge keyhole. Daisy reached out, feeling slightly nervous in spite of herself. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but – Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and pulled. Nothing happened. Then she turned it the other way. Then she tried pushing the door. It obstinately refused to move. “Here, let me try,” said Beth, starting to push Daisy aside. “I’m stronger than you,” began Janet “There’s a key,” remarked Isabel, “why don’t you try that?” “Where? Where?” “There – look! Hanging up in the corner!” And, sure enough, there was a key hanging unobtrusively below a little triangular wooden shelf set in the corner. The key seemed very small beside the large keyhole; but in fact, now they came to examine it, it was the decorative iron surround that was so big, and the keyhole itself was quite small. Janet reached up and took the key from its nail, passing it to Daisy. Daisy fitted it in the lock; it turned easily and the door swung open. --- At first they could see nothing in the dim light. Then gradually they could make out the contents of the cupboard – for cupboard it was. Shelves containing tins of polish. A basket of dusters. A vacuum cleaner. Jars of screws and nails. A hammer and a screwdriver. A bunch of keys. “Well!” said Isabel, “You wanted to know what was behind Puck’s door!” “There isn’t even a saucer for his milk! What a swizz!” cried Daisy in disgust. “Well, you wouldn’t expect a saucer,” pointed out Janet, “he may be small, but he’s a person, not a cat!” “If they do put out milk and it is gone in the morning, he probably is a cat,” said Isabel. “I wouldn’t mind meeting him – I like cats.” The girls were silent for a few moments. Janet was the first to speak. “So – what now?” she said “Do we start prodding the panelling?” “What about the other door?” asked Isabel. At the opposite side of the hall below th musicians’ gallery was another door, of normal size, with a similar round wooden handle and elaborate keyhole. “Yes,” said Daisy, “it must lead somewhere. I’ll just close up this cupboard and hang up the key.” As she did so, the others hurried over to the other door and tried the handle. Another disappointment! This door, too, remained immoveable. “Wait!” cried Daisy, “It’s probably locked too – let me try the key!” And, sure enough, the same key fitted this lock too and the door opened. Not only did it open, but the door led to a spiral staircase. “Which way? Up or down?” asked Isabel “Down, of course,” said Daisy, “I’m sure this leads to an underground passage or at least to a cellar – or even a dungeon!” “We must be in the tower that’s on the right as you go into the castle,” said Janet. “It looks very old and there are only these tiny windows,” and, indeed, it was difficult to see their footing with the small amount of light coming in. However, the stairs were neither broken nor uneven, so they managed to get down to a small landing-place. The spiral stairs continued downwards, but there was onother door here. Beth, who was leading, opened the door cautiously. The evening was drawing in now, and the room she was looking into seemed to be a large one. In the dusk at the far end of the room, she could see a white shape floating at about waist height. She and let out a muffled scream, which was echoed by another muffled scream from within the room. “Who’s that?” cried a voice “Only us,” was the somewhat unhelpful reply. Then the electric light was switched on and revealed the diningroom, with Mary, the maid, carrying a tray of cutlery. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Oh, it’s you, Miss Beth! You did give me a fright! I thought you were Puck for a minute!” “I’m sorry, Mary. I thought you were a ghost too – all I could see was your white apron!” “And who have you got with you – Miss Janet, Miss Daisy – and who’s this? And what are you all doing?” “This is Isabel Allen – Isabel, this is Mary. And we were exploring. We wanted to see what was behind Puck’s door.” Mary laughed. “Did you, indeed? I’d say you got a quare gunk, as they say in the North!”

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Nov 30, 2007 5:07 pm ]
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And now, a new bit: “’Quare gunk’? That just about describes it! What a lovely word!” cried Daisy. “Are you from the North, Mary?” “No, Malahide born and bred; but Mrs. Hamilton, the cook, is,” “But what about Puck?” asked Beth impatiently, “He doesn’t exist, does he? There wasn’t a saucer for his milk, and anyway he wouldn’t live in a cupboard!” “I thought he must be a cat!” Isabel piped up. “Well, now,” said Mary, “we couldn’t be leaving saucers lying around the hall for Miss Annersley to fall over, could we? But you’re right about the cat – we have two cats in the kitchen, Lucy and Boxer, and they would drink any milk they found when they’re prowling round at night. Not that I think Lucy does much prowling, she’s too fond of her comforts – but Boxer is a great mouser. As for living in a cupboard, that cupboard wasn’t always there. This is the oldest part of the castle; it was built before what is now the main door and the entrance hall and the front stairs. That part was stuck on to the front in Queen Victoria’s time, when they liked battlements and mullioned windows and pointed archways – what they call Gothic. This room and the hall above date from Norman times, but of course they’ve been changed and added to over the years. I think they put a new roof on the hall about a hundred years ago. You know those carved heads on the supports for the beams? Those are all the same; but if they’d been carved in the Middle Ages they would all be different.” “Why?” asked Janet “I don’t know – maybe each craftsman liked to carve someone different. But anyway, that door could have led to another tower or maybe just out into the grounds before they put the new front on to the castle. If Puck was a watchman, he might have had a special little door of his own.” “That’s really interesting,” said Beth, “You know an awful lot about it.” “Yes – I like history. And the castle changed so much over the years that it’s got a bit of everything.” “Who told you all about it?” asked Janet curiously. “Lord Talbot told me a lot. He found me in the library one day reading a book when I should have been dusting. I was scared he’d eat the face off me, but he didn’t. He’s a real gentleman. He just asked what I was reading, and we had a long talk about history and things and he told me to read anything I liked in the library – but not when I was supposed to be working … Speaking of which, I should be laying these tables this minute.” Daisy, who had sat down at one of the tables in the interest of the conversation, jumped to her feet. “We’ll help you,” she said. “Ah, no, Miss, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” said Mary “Yes, we will,” said Daisy, “it’s only fair when we’ve been keeping you talking” “Yes, really, we’d like to” added Beth. Mary, seeing that they really meant it, distributed cutlery to them all and they took a table each.

Author:	PaulineS [ Fri Nov 30, 2007 8:03 pm ]
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Good I am glad this is back. Thanks for taking it on,

Author:	Jennie [ Mon Dec 03, 2007 1:47 pm ]
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Great to see this back. Is Dorian ill? Or expecting to be busy in true CS fashion?

Author:	leahbelle [ Mon Dec 03, 2007 5:08 pm ]
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Am also glad to see this back! Thanks.

Author:	Róisín [ Mon Dec 03, 2007 11:58 pm ]
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Yay it's back, properly back! It's great being able to really picture the castle. Thanks Daphne - please some more soon maybe?

Author:	brie [ Tue Dec 04, 2007 12:49 pm ]
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thanks

Author:	Róisín [ Fri Dec 14, 2007 5:50 pm ]
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chant chant I'm dying to see what happens

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Dec 14, 2007 7:49 pm ]
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Just a tiny bit for now: Over supper that evening, the four explorers regaled the others with a highly-coloured account of their afternoon. Then Janet turned to Anne, “Where were you all afternoon, anyway – I didn’t see you in the common room at all?” “I was in the gym, practising Irish dancing – didn’t you hear Miss Annersley say at lunchtime that there’s to be a ceilí tonight, and anyone who wanted to practise the dances was to go to the gym? I like Irish dancing, so I went along, but I knew you wouldn’t be interested.” Janet was somewhat taken aback. Even though she had said often enough that she hated Ireland and all things Irish, and even though she had enjoyed her afternoon more than anything else that had happened since she had come to the Chalet School, she still felt abandoned. She also felt quite shocked at herself. She didn’t like Ireland or the Irish. She certainly didn’t like dancing of any kind and was no good at it. Anne wasn’t her friend, she had no right to expect to be included in her plans … No! Anne was her friend. They had been new girls together; they had quarrelled and been in trouble together; they had been through that uncomfortable adventure on Shenick Island, when Anne had proved a tower of strength; they sat together in class and often found themselves laughing at the same things. “Well!” she thought, “Anne may be Irish, but she’s definitely my friend. And Ireland isn't as bad as all that. It hasn’t killed me yet – but how could a country kill someone? What did Aunt Eliza mean? And what really happened to John? I’m going to have to find out!” Just then her musings were interrupted by a dig in the ribs from her friend’s sharp elbow. “Janet – Violet is speaking to you!” “Oh, sorry, Violet - what did you say?” “I was just suggesting that you should finish up that piece of bread – everyone else has finished," said the prefect. " I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m dying to get to the ceilí and I don’t want to have to wait for any slow eaters.” “Sorry” said Janet again, as she hurriedly stuffed the offending piece of bread into her mouth, nearly choking on it. Then the bell rang for grace, and they were free to make their way to the gym in one of the converted outbuildings.

Author:	brie [ Fri Dec 14, 2007 8:11 pm ]
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Thanks Duncan

Author:	Jennie [ Sat Dec 15, 2007 1:18 pm ]
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Thanks, Duncan.

Author:	Elbee [ Sat Dec 15, 2007 3:46 pm ]
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I'm glad Janet is beginning to change her mind. Thanks, DuncanD.

Author:	Miss Di [ Tue Dec 18, 2007 5:49 am ]
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Elbee wrote: I'm glad Janet is beginning to change her mind. Thanks, DuncanD. Yeah me too to all of the above!

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Tue Dec 18, 2007 6:45 am ]
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Thanks Duncan. I'm glad Dorian let you go on with this

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Jan 10, 2008 5:15 pm ]
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It was Sunday afternoon, and the weather, while no longer rainy, was dull and bleak. Robin and Daisy were spending the afternoon with Jo. She had hoped to have them with her permanently once she was established in the house in Malahide, but they found so many reasons for needing to be at school during the evenings and weekends that she had agreed that it was better for them to board and visit her regularly on Sundays after church. They often brought friends with them, but today they were alone. After a delicious lunch of roast beef and yorkshire pudding, followed by stewed apple and custard, they had spent a happy afternoon playing with the triplets. The little girls had just passed their first birthday and were at the interesting stage of being “into everything”. Now Robin was helping Anna to bath and put them to bed, while Daisy was in the kitchen helping Jo with making tea. She was buttering bread, while Jo brought out biscuits and cut slices of cake. “Well, and what have you been doing since I saw you last?” asked Jo. “Oh, goodness – lots of things! I don’t know where to begin! Well, last night, we had a ceilí and did Irish dancing – that was great fun!” “What – that dancing where you’re completely stiff from the waist up but very busy with your feet?” “No, it was more like folk dancing. We did the Haymakers – that was very like Strip the Willow, you know, where you have to swing with everyone all down the line and with your partner in between. And there was the Seige of Ennis and Fairy Reel and the Waves of Tory – ” Daisy pictured the gym, with the long column of girls making the waves by alternately forming an arch and crouching beneath the arch formed by the approaching couple. Anne had at last persuaded Janet to join in, assuring her that this was an easy one, and she had seemed to enjoy it, despite having claimed beforehand to have “two left feet”. “ – yes, it was great fun. We had a little ceili band, just five of them, two fiddles, an accordion, a tin whistle and a bodhrán …” “A what?” “A bodhrán – sort of like a giant tambourine without the shakers on it. You play it with a little short stick. You use your wrist to move it back and forth – “ Here, Daisy took up the lid of the cake tin and tried to demonstrate using the buttery knife as a beater. “Daisy! Be careful! You’re putting butter everywhere! – Oh! Mind the cakestand!” as Daisy turned sharply towards the sink to put down her messy implements. “Oops! Sorry, Auntie Jo! Did I put the heart crosswise in you?” Joey passed her the dishcloth, saying, “Where on earth did you hear that expression?” “At school. Don’t you like it?” “Well, yes – I do rather. It’s very expressive. But don’t expect Miss Annersley to appreciate it! Now, have you finished the bread? Good. Put the plate on the tray and we’ll take it into the sitting-room. I think we’ll have tea cosily by the fire. You bring the cakestand.” When they had set out the tea-things on the round table in the sitting-room, they returned to the kitchen and Jo busied herself making tea. “What were we talking about?” she asked. “Oh yes – the ceilí. What else did you do?” “Some of the Irish girls showed us other dances, and Anne sang. You remember Anne – she came here for the afternoon at half term. She sang a song in Irish about a girl not wanting to go home because a match had been made for her.” “Did you understand it? How are you getting on with Irish?” “Anne explained what it was about before she sang it, and we all joined in the chorus.” She sang a bit of the lively tune: Téir abhaile riú Téir abhaile riú Téir abhaile riú Mhary Téir abhaile riú 's fan sa bhaile Mar tá do mhargadh déanta. “Irish is jolly hard, but it’s interesting. Miss Sullivan is really good, she tells us all sorts of things about how there are lots of bits of Irish in English. Did you know that ‘galore’ is an Irish word?” “No – what does it mean?” “It means ‘galore’, silly – plenty – lots!” “Yes, I suppose that was a stupid question!” “Anyway, I thought you were trying to learn Irish too – what happened to that Irish class you were going to?” “I’m afraid I had to give that up. The class was in Harcourt Street, which is quite far from the bus stop on the quays, and I was always afraid I’d miss the last bus home. I can’t afford to take taxis often. I did manage to pick up a few phrases, though – An dtuigeann tú? for instance,” “ ‘Do you understand?’ – yes, we hear that one quite often!” At this point, Robin appeared in the kitchen, saying “Well, I’ve tidied your babies away for you, Joey. I think they’re going to sleep all right. They should be tired after all their antics in the bath – Anna’s only just finished mopping up after them!” “Yes,” said Jo, “they can be a bit devilish now they’re so much more mobile. This tea’s just ready – come on and have some!” The words of the song mean: Go home with you Go home with you Go home with you, Mary Go home with you and stay at home Because your match is made.

Author:	roversgirl [ Thu Jan 10, 2008 5:51 pm ]
Post subject:	re.
thanks for the update!

Author:	PaulineS [ Thu Jan 10, 2008 10:02 pm ]
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Glad to see an up date

Author:	Jennie [ Fri Jan 11, 2008 2:13 pm ]
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Great to get an update on this.

Author:	leahbelle [ Fri Jan 11, 2008 5:07 pm ]
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Thanks for the update. Great to see more of this.

Author:	PaulineS [ Fri Jan 11, 2008 5:18 pm ]
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Thanks, good to see more of this.

Author:	claireM [ Fri Jan 11, 2008 8:10 pm ]
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Good to get more of this, thanks.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Sat Jan 12, 2008 5:24 am ]
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Good to see more of this

Author:	Kathy_S [ Sat Jan 12, 2008 2:13 pm ]
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Thank you. Glad to see this back! They seem to be doing pretty well at making Irish a part of the school culture.

Author:	Jools [ Wed Jan 16, 2008 2:46 pm ]
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This is amazing - please keep it up.

Author:	dorian [ Wed Jan 16, 2008 10:44 pm ]
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Hello... Sorry I've been away so long...my plot bunnies ran away and then Real Life ate my brain. Luckily, the plot bunnies ran to DuncanD, so this story didn't die. And DuncanD is doing a great job with it, too. (Given some of the questions she was asking me this evening...I'm looking forward to the next part!) I hope to stick around a bit more consistently than I have, now, but I make no promises. Real Life seems to be in ambush mode. Dorian.

Author:	Pat [ Wed Jan 16, 2008 10:47 pm ]
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Welcome back Dorian.

Author:	Mollio [ Tue Jan 22, 2008 1:50 am ]
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I'm really delighted this is back - and I don't mind who writes it! Thanks!

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Jan 25, 2008 5:06 pm ]
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Sorry I haven't got an update yet. Plot bunnies are being awkward. It's definitely time for the Spy to appear, but who he is, what exactly he's after, whether/how Joey is going to assist with his capture, and what they're going to do with him when he is caught ... Maybe I'd better just organise the Christmas play and send everyone home for the holidays!

Author:	Róisín [ Mon Jan 28, 2008 10:10 pm ]
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Just caught up on this, looking forward to seeing what you do next, thanks Daphne

Author:	DuncanD [ Mon Feb 11, 2008 2:00 pm ]
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That week, the weather improved for a few days and the sun even appeared occasionally. Then on Thursday and Friday rain set in again, much to everyone’s disgust. However, though Saturday dawned dull and chilly, the rain held off. The prefects organised a walk along by the estuary to see what birds had arrived for the winter. All year round, there are swans, black-headed gulls, herring gulls, moorhens and the occasional heron to be seen on the Broadmeadow estuary, a broad, tranquil stretch of water to the west of the railway line. In winter, flocks of plover and lapwing can be seen, along with various species of duck and wading birds of all kinds. There are Brent geese too, but usually on the other side of the railway line, near the open sea. Many of the girls had become interested in bird watching since they had come to Malahide: they had seen flocks of oystercatchers feeding on the hockey pitch; there was a rookery in the tall trees beside the main road; and there were always a few seagulls about, sometimes squawking eerily down the chimneys. Now, almost half the school disappeared in the direction of the estuary. A smaller group of middles and seniors had gone to Dublin with Miss Burnett and Miss Linton to see a matinee of a historical film. The only girls left in the middles’ common room were Beth and Janet, who both had colds, and Daisy and Anne, who had volunteered to stay and keep them company. “Let’s find something to do this afternoon – I don’t want to spend the whole day hanging around in the common room,” said Beth. “Well, what do you want to do?” asked Daisy, “Have you any ideas?” “Yes, actually, I have. I thought we could do a bit more exploring. What about the underground passage?” “What about your cold?” “It’s nearly gone – it’s just my nose that’s a bit runny, still; the cough is better. Anyway, the underground passage is indoors.” “What underground passage is this?” asked Anne. “Oh, sorry, Anne, I forgot you weren’t there when we went exploring last time,” replied Beth. “We were talking to Mary – you know, that very tall maid with the frizzy hair. She told us a bit about the history of the castle, and we were asking if there were any secret passages or priests’ holes or things like that. She said, not that she knew of; the place is like a warren and it’s easy enough to get lost without secret passages. But she did say that there’s an underground passage from the kitchens to the icehouse.” “Yes,” put in Daisy, “She said that in Victorian times people didn’t like to see servants about, and in some places they even had underground passages for the servants to come into the house by, so they wouldn’t be seen in the grounds,” “Goodness,” said Anne, “ that sounds awful! Suppose you had claustrophobia?” “I suppose you didn’t take a job in a house like that. It probably wouldn’t be very nice anyway, if that was the family’s attitude. How did they think the beds got made or the dinners cooked?” “Probably their minds were on Higher Things,” suggested Janet. “But anyway,” said Beth, impatiently, “there’s an underground passage to the icehouse. They kept big blocks of ice in it – that’s what they used before there were fridges - and they would carry it along the passage to the kitchen.” “Mary said that it’s only a few years since they got a fridge for the kitchen. Before that, they used the icehouse all the time. They could even make icecream! Mrs. Hamilton made gallons of it for Miss Deborah’s coming-out ball,” added Daisy, who was fascinated by these tales of the past. “Whereabouts is it?” asked Anne, “I don’t think I’ve seen it in the grounds. What does it look like?” “I don’t know,” said Beth, “Mary didn’t say. But it must be mostly underground, so as to keep the ice cold. I’m not sure where it is either, but she said it was among the trees. Not that that’s much help, because there are trees everywhere. But do let’s go and find the underground passage, anyway!” “All right,” said Anne, “let’s find it. I think it would be fun. Where does it start from?” “We don’t know that either – not exactly. It starts from one of the little store-rooms in the passage that goes down by the kitchen. Those rooms are sort of half under ground already, because of the way the ground slopes.” “And,” said Janet, “it’ll be real exploring, because we don’t know where to start and we don’t know where we’re going.” in spite “Well, if we’re really going to do it, in spite of your colds, we’d better dress properly for it,” said Daisy. “I think you two should wear your coats.” There was an outcry from Beth and Janet at this. Their colds, it seemed, were very trifling and almost better and anyway grown-ups always fuss over nothing. Eventually a compromise was reached. They all put on outdoor shoes, blazers and scarves, and, prepared to face the unknown, went down the stone stairs to the basement.

Author:	roversgirl [ Mon Feb 11, 2008 3:06 pm ]
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thanks very much for the update. i'm really enjoying this

Author:	PaulineS [ Mon Feb 11, 2008 9:46 pm ]
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I hope the passage is safe! Glad they at least put on blazers. but I think they should have all put on coats, an ice house is meant to be cold!!!!!

Author:	Miss Di [ Tue Feb 12, 2008 2:33 am ]
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I hope the ice house is safe! I still have nightmares about that book (Minette Waters, The Ice House)

Author:	leahbelle [ Tue Feb 12, 2008 10:08 am ]
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Thanks for the update.

Author:	Lisa [ Tue Feb 12, 2008 6:48 pm ]
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Whew! Have finally caught up on months of updates! Thank you, both authors!, especially for the lovely descriptions of Irish culture and the 'explorers' in the castle Looking forward to more!

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Feb 14, 2008 5:55 pm ]
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“Well – which way now?” asked Janet. The basement area was not familiar territory to any of the girls, though both Beth and Daisy had been sent on errands to the kitchen at different times. “That’s the kitchen door in front of us,” said Daisy, “so let’s try round here to the right,” They followed the stone-floored passage which came out into a longer corridor with doors on either side and, at one end, the beginning of a spiral staircase. “Oh!” said Janet, “that must be where the spiral stairway from the Great Hall comes down!” “Yes, you’re right,”said Daisy, “So we should probably go the other way.” This end of the passage was lit by a window set high in the end wall, and all the doors were set into pointed archways. “So – what now?” asked Janet, “Do we just keep opening doors till we find the passage?” “Well, I think we’d better be a bit cautious,” answered Daisy, “I suppose we don’t want to barge in on anyone or knock things over. We’d better listen at the doors first.” They followed this plan, and peeked into various pantries and store-rooms. From one of the rooms, evidently a sitting-room, came the sound of the wireless – a male voice gabbling excitedly. “That’ll be the rugby match,” whispered Anne. Then came an interruption in the shape of Boxer, one of the two kitchen cats. He was a large, rusty black animal with a crumpled ear and a rather malign expression, but he was actually a friendly creature and was delighted to find several people to play with. He wound himself round everyone’s legs, purring hopefully, until Anne picked him up and started stroking him. He immediately leapt on to her shoulder, digging his claws in painfully. She managed to say “Ow!” fairly quietly, and Janet came over to pet him too. “We can’t stay here all night playing with the cat,” said Beth, “Do put him down and let’s see what’s through this other door.” “All right,”said Anne agreeably, “Can you get him off me, Janet?” After a short tussle, she managed to detach him from Anne and put him on the ground; but now he was annoyed and miaowed resentfully. He stalked over to the door from which the wireless could be heard and miaowed again loudly, then started scratching at the door, evidently expecting to be let in. “Quick, “said Beth, “in here, before someone comes,” and she opened the door at the end of the corridor. They all hurried through, and found themselves in a small, empty room, with a window set close to the ceiling, and another door, without a pointed arch, this time. The door where Boxer was still maiowing and scratching opened, and Matron looked out. “Oh, It’s you, Boxer! You know,” she said, closing the door and turning to her companion, “he makes an awful lot of noise for his size. I’m sure I heard a door shutting!” “Ssh!” was the only reply vouchsafed by Mrs. Hamilton, as the voice on the wireless became even more agitated. Matey shrugged and sat down again, and the two rugby enthusiasts went back to enjoying the game and their cups of tea, while Boxer sat on Matey’s knee and shed hairs on her uniform. Meanwhile, Beth opened the inner door, revealing half-a-dozen stone steps and the beginning of a passageway. "Hurrah! This must be it!" she cried "Ssshh!" said Daisy, as they all hurried down the steps. Beth closed the door, plunging them into darkness. “Oh! We didn’t think to bring our torches!”said Beth. She felt that, as instigator of the expedition, she should have thought of this. “I did,” said Daisy smugly, producing hers from her pocket and switching it on. “And so did I,” said Janet. “That’s all right, then,” said Beth, relieved. The passage had a beaten-earth floor and stout brick walls and an arched ceiling. It didn’t seem to be damp, but it was chilly, and the girls were glad of their scarves. It bent round to the right for a few yards, then straightened out. They walked along carefully, looking about them as well as they could by the light of the torches. “Oh! What’s that?” cried Beth “What?” “That over there – it looks like a snake!” Daisy trained her torch on the place where Beth was pointing. “There aren’t any snakes in Ireland,” said Anne, “St. Patrick got rid of them all.” Janet moved closer and trained her torch on the place too. “I thnk it’s a tree root,” she said. “We must be under the trees just behind the castle.” Just as they were recovering from this piece of excitement, they heard a loud rumbling and the passage shook under their feet. As it died down, Janet remarked, “Yes, I thought so, we’re fairly close to the railway line here. I wonder where we’ll come out – I’ve never seen anything that looks like an ice house in the grounds.” “Do you know what an ice house looks like?” asked Beth. “No,” said Janet, but it must be some kind of little hut or shed, don’t you think?” “Do come on,” said Daisy, “I don’t much like it in here. Let’s find the ice house and get back – it’ll soon be tea-time.” She couldn’t help thinking of the long trek through the underground passage from Spärtz to the Sonnalpe, when several Chalet girls, along with Miss Wilson, had had to escape a Nazi mob. This passage was in much better condition, and they had their torches, but even so she would be happy to get above ground again. In fact, they were nearing the end of the passage. It started to bend to the left, and a few minutes later they saw another door, held in place with two stout bolts. Daisy held her torch steady while Janet pulled back the bolts and opened the door The small room which must be the icehouse was almost in darkness, though a little light penetrated around the edge of the outer door, which was open slightly. Janet took a step into the icehouse and promptly tripped over some obstacle, landing heavily on her hands an knees. Before the others had time to react, a tall figure rose up in front of them, crying, “Was – was ist – ? Ach, Scheisse!” Then it, too, fell to the ground, partly on top of Janet, then rolled over and sat up, groaning. [edited to give Matey a bit of social life!]

Author:	roversgirl [ Thu Feb 14, 2008 7:14 pm ]
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I sense some spies... thanks

Author:	PaulineS [ Thu Feb 14, 2008 9:58 pm ]
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At least they have Daisy with them who should understand some German. Poor Diasy though having the memory of the Spartz tunnel broought back to her.

Author:	Elbee [ Thu Feb 14, 2008 11:18 pm ]
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Ooooh! Very exciting! Thanks, DuncanD.

Author:	Miss Di [ Fri Feb 15, 2008 4:08 am ]
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Poor Daisy, her nervousness is making me wibble. As for German spies...

Author:	keren [ Fri Feb 15, 2008 7:16 am ]
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intersting point that Daisy should be afraid of tunnels The emotional after affects of their flight on the rest of the girls (apart from Joey), is something that is not fully explored

Author:	Lisa [ Fri Feb 15, 2008 2:56 pm ]
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Ooh! Vair exciting

Author:	leahbelle [ Fri Feb 15, 2008 3:54 pm ]
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Very exciting! thanks.

Author:	Mrs Redboots [ Fri Feb 15, 2008 8:57 pm ]
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PaulineS wrote: At least they have Daisy with them who should understand some German. I'm quite sure Daisy has never heard that word in all her life - at least, EBD would be rather horrified if she thought she had! Thanks, DuncanD - still psml at the thought of Matey as a rugby fan.

Author:	di [ Sun Feb 17, 2008 10:48 am ]
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Argh. Scary! I hope the girls stay safe. Thanks DuncanD

Author:	Kathy_S [ Mon Feb 18, 2008 1:34 am ]
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Well, that's an interesting turn of events! Clearly not just poachers. Well, unless they're the sort who feel less guilty cussing in a foreign language. Don't leave it there too long, please....

Author:	Róisín [ Mon Feb 25, 2008 8:32 pm ]
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Can't wait to see what happens next, thank you Daphne

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Thu Feb 28, 2008 8:20 am ]
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Can't wait to see where this is leading and who the german speaker is

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Mar 05, 2008 4:52 pm ]
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Thanks for all the comments. Of course Matey is a rugby fan - she's Welsh, isn't she? Please note that it's over 30 years since I had a year-old baby to look after, and I've mercifully forgotten most of what it was like. As for having 3, I turn pale at the very thought! Jo had been confined to the house for several days. First, she had had the cold that was “going about” locally, then the rain had set in again. Trying to amuse three year-old babies indoors was becoming somewhat wearing, so when Saturday afternoon came and the weather was dull but dry, she determined to get out of the house. Anna had been invited to spend the afternoon in Juliet’s “servants’ hall” – which was the grand title given to the basement sitting-room used by her cook and housemaid. Anna had been a little reluctant to go, as her English was not very fluent, and she felt that people in the village were commenting on her foreign appearance and accent. However, Joey firmly chased her out, remarking that if she never met anyone, of course people would think she was strange, and if she didn’t talk to anyone how could she improve her English? So now Joey got the triplets up after their nap and dressed them warmly in coats, leggings and little knitted bonnets. Unfortunately, Margot decided she didn’t want to wear her leggings, and Jo had quite a struggle to get them on. Then she discovered that Con had taken advantage of the distraction to remove her shoes and throw them as far as she could. One had landed under the chest of drawers, so Jo had to lie full length on the floor and scrabble for it, emerging dusty and dishevelled. After that, she had to run a comb through her fringe and stick several hairpins back in before putting Con’s shoes back on and tying the laces as tightly as possible. Eventually, she got all three of them into the big double pram, the only mishap being Con’s managing to poke Len in the eye on the way. Len set up a wail and had to be comforted; then at last Jo was able to put on her outdoor things and set off down Church Road. “Oh Lord!” she thought, “I really feel more like a sit-down than a walk, now! I don’t know what I’m going to do when they won’t fit in the pram any more – I’ll have to get collars and leads and take them out like dogs. I wonder if I could throw sticks for them to fetch?” Musing thus, she turned down the Mall towards the pink hotel. Once past the Tennis Club, she could look out across the dunes to the sea and the Island, which was not an island, but a peninsula on which there was a golf links. She could see the boat half-way across, rowed by Vincie the boatman and bearing a couple of golfers. Coming towards her was a tall figure in a dark overcoat, who seemed vaguely familiar. “Why, Frau Maynard, how pleasant to meet you!” Jo looked more closely at the tall figure. Of course! The young diplomat from the German embassy who had positively smarmed over her at that party a few weeks ago. What on earth was his name? Wolff? Werner? Werfel, that was it! “Good afternoon, Herr Werfel! How nice to see you!” What was he doing in Malahide, of all places? “And this must be your charming little family? What sweet children! Are they girls or boys?” He bent over the pram, and Margot instantly grabbed the brim of his hat. “All girls,”said Jo, suppressing a giggle,”but I’m afraid they’re not being very charming just now. Let go of the gentleman’s hat, Margot, it wouldn’t suit you. Anyhow, you’ve already got a hat on,” she added, as she removed the small hand so that Her Werfel could straighten up and admire the triplets from a safe distance. “What are you doing in Malahide, Herr Werfel?” “I was to meet a friend here. He has been making a walking tour along the coast, and we decided to meet in Malahide and go to see the Castle. But there seems to have been some mistake, and I haven’t seen him. And also, I can’t find the castle. I was told it is near the station, but I did not see it. Perhaps you can indicate to me where it is?” Jo thought quickly. The idea of a walking tour in November seemed very odd, to say the least; there must be something behind it. Someone should keep an eye on young Herr Werfel …. “I’ll do better than that, I’ll take you there!” she said cheerfully, manoeuvering the pram round to go in the opposite direction. “You wouldn’t normally be able to visit the castle, as it’s not open to the public, but at the moment it has been leased to a school – my own old school, in fact. I know the headmistress will be delighted to see us and show you around. You’ll be able to see the Oak Room and the Great Hall, at least.” She chattered on happily, “There are some fascinating old carvings in the Oak Room, a – well, I suppose you’d call it a bas-relief – of Adam and Eve, with the tree of knowledge and the snake, of course –it’s thought it was originally the lid of a marriage chest. And the Great Hall is one of the oldest parts of the castle, and dates from the twelfth century. Is there something in particular that you’re interested in, or do you just like castles in general? It’s certainly very different from the castles I’ve seen in Austria.” “Well, of course, yes – I – I am interested in military history –“ “Really? Of course the castle was originally a Norman fortification ...” and Jo was off again, quoting chunks of a guide book she’d read, embellished with some things she had picked up from Daisy. As they reached the gates of the castle, she was interrupted. “Excuse me, this is the castle? I saw the gates, of course, but this board says ‘Chalet School’ so naturally I thought it was a school only. Where is the building?” “Just up this way and round to the left – it’s hidden by the trees,” “Actually, I am most interested in the castle grounds. I have not seen anything like this since I have been in Ireland.” “Oh? In that case, I’ll show you the gardens first. The formal garden is just round here to the right. A lot of the plants were brought back by Lord Talbot from his travels. He was British Ambassador to China, you know. Some of the plants are really interesting; he planted a lot of them for the benefit of local beekeepers …” Herr Werfel had perforce to follow his guide round the gardens, as she pointed out everything she knew the name of, from a magnolia to a michaelmas daisy. She made up a few startlingly original names for plants that she didn’t know, and discovered that her companion was no better informed than she was. Then she led him along the avenue of beeches. “Oh! Eichhörnchen! What do you call it in English?” “It’s a squirrel. See the squirrel, Len – Connie! Yes, Margot, I’ll turn the pram round a bit so you can see too. There! I know they’re supposed to be vermin,” she added to her companion, “but I can’t help thinking they’re rather sweet.” The squirrel had run down a low branch and was now looking suspiciously at them. He chittered angrily for a few moments and then, with a wave of his tail, ran back up the tree. “Look! Here is a path through the trees!” said Herr Werfel, as the squirrel vanished. “I wonder where it goes? Shall we follow it? But it is perhaps too wet for you to bring your pram.” “Not at all! The path is quite wide enough, and I’m wearing good, thick shoes.” He’s not getting rid of me that easily, she thought to herself. The path wound through a thick belt of woodland. Jo was fairly sure they were going back towards the castle, but it was difficult to tell as the trees grew so closely together. It was somewhat muddy under foot, but not enough to make it difficult to manoeuver the pram. Jo was just congratulating herself on being able to keep up with Herr Werfel, when they came to a large puddle covering the full width of the path. The young man moved off the path on to a small mound to avoid it, but Jo could see that she would have to either turn back or resign herself to getting wet feet. As she hesitated, Herr Werfel suddenly came crashing to the ground. “Herr Werfel!” cried Jo, rushing heedlessly through the puddle, “are you all right?” “Yes, yes, quite all right,” he said crossly, getting slowly to his feet. “Oh, dear! My overcoat – my trousers! They are covered with mud!” “Don’t do that!” said Jo, as he started trying to rub some of the mud off. “You must let it dry and then you’ll be able to brush it off – but it won’t work if you rub it in. You need to …” but here she became aware that he wasn’t listening to her. “Sshh! I can hear voices!” he said. Jo listened for a moment. “Yes, so can I,” she said. “That’s very strange! They seem to be coming from under the ground …”

Author:	PaulineS [ Wed Mar 05, 2008 9:35 pm ]
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I think I can guess whose voices we can hear. Thanks for the update.

Author:	Mollio [ Wed Mar 05, 2008 10:50 pm ]
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Good, good, good!

Author:	roversgirl [ Thu Mar 06, 2008 6:03 pm ]
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thanks for the update!

Author:	di [ Thu Mar 06, 2008 8:52 pm ]
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Great to have more. Thanks

Author:	Kathy_S [ Fri Mar 07, 2008 10:35 pm ]
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Odd that he points out the voices! Interesting, though. What next? Thank you, Duncan.

Author:	Róisín [ Mon Mar 10, 2008 7:52 pm ]
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Ha ha this is JUST like Jo. Thanks Daphne

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Mon Mar 10, 2008 11:34 pm ]
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Thanks Daphne. He will be glad to get rid of Jo at the end of all that

Author:	Miss Di [ Thu Mar 13, 2008 2:24 am ]
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LOVED the making up names of plants! So Joeyish.

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Mar 13, 2008 4:59 pm ]
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“Was – was ist – ? Ach, Scheisse!” Then someone fell to the ground, partly on top of Janet, then rolled over and sat up, groaning. Daisy trained her torch on the figure and revealed a young man with a handsome face and fairish hair cut very short. He seemed to be wearing a short fleece-lined jacket. “Verdammte Scheisse!” he said again. “Was ist denn los?” asked Daisy. “Mein Ankel – es tut mir Weh – aber …” Then he seemed to recollect himself and spoke in English. “Good afternoon, ladies. May I ask what you are doing here?” “What are you doing in our icehouse?” retorted Daisy. “Your icehouse?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the icehouse belonging to Malahide Castle, and our school is in the castle, so I suppose it’s the school icehouse. I don’t believe you have any business here.” “I was sheltering here – a tramp has a difficult life, you know,” Janet joined in. “I don’t believe you’re a tramp. What would a German tramp be doing in Ireland?” “Well, no, I’m not a tramp, eventually,” he confessed. “I have been making a walking tour, and today I arrived in Malahide. I was to meet a friend here, and we were going to visit the castle. But he didn’t come, or perhaps there was some mistake, and I missed him. Then, as I was walking through the trees, I slipped most unfortunately, and fell into a ditch – it seems I have damaged my ankle. I can’t walk on it, as you see, so I came into this small hut. I didn’t know it was an icehouse. I thought if I could rest my foot for a while I may be able to walk later. I think I must have fallen asleep …” He smiled at them innocently. He really was extremely good looking. “But tell me,” he went on, “what is this school? A school in a castle?” “It’s called the Chalet School,” replied Daisy. “It used to be in the Channel Islands, but after a German plane came down quite close to the school, we realised that we were too close to the continent, so we moved to Ireland. And quite soon afterwards the Germans invaded – we were lucky to have got away.” “I see. But what will you do when the Germans invade Ireland?” “They won’t invade Ireland,” cried Janet in consternation, “Ireland’s neutral!” “Yes, and why would they invade us anyway,” added Anne, “we haven’t got anything they would want.” “But we could the more easily invade England from Ireland,” “That’s nonsense,”said Daisy robustly, “ the English Channel is much narrower than the Irish Sea – there wouldn’t be any sense in coming here first,” “But indeed there would,” replied the young man. “The northern part of Ireland is still under the English oppressor. We will invade that part, and theIrish will rise up to support us. We know that the Irish all hate the English!” The English girls were silent. They knew little about Irish politics, and they didn’t know whether this was likely. Janet in particular had a horrible feeling that he might be right. Anne, however, remained unconvinced. “I think you’ll find,” she said, “that what the Irish hate is not the English. What we hate is a tyrant – and Hitler is a much worse tyrant than the English ever were. My father says the men of 1916 didn’t fight for us to get swallowed up by a different empire. They fought so that we could be free to run our own country the way we want it. That’s why he joined the British army when the war broke out.” “Hmm, the British army …!” said the German. “And where is he now?” “Missing,” said Anne shortly.

Author:	roversgirl [ Thu Mar 13, 2008 5:25 pm ]
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Thanks for the update. I'm really enjoying this

Author:	PaulineS [ Thu Mar 13, 2008 9:50 pm ]
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Poor Anne she must be worried about her father. I am glad she knew enough about the Irish side of things to answer the German's question. Thanks for the update.

Author:	Kathy_S [ Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:43 am ]
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So that's what's bothering Anne.... Thank you, Daphne.

Author:	di [ Fri Mar 14, 2008 6:49 am ]
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Great writing, keep it coming! Thanks for the update.

Author:	crystaltips [ Sun Mar 23, 2008 3:03 pm ]
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Oh fantastic, another long drabble to read from the start A great way to spend an Easter Sunday when it's trying to snow...again (snow at Easter, what's that about!!) Thanks Dorian for starting this & DuncanD for continuing. More would be very nice pleads

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Mar 28, 2008 5:11 pm ]
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Thanks for comments - it's nice to know people are reading this! Sorry I'm not to good at updating it; I'm writing it in spare moments at work, but unfortunately I don't have many spare moments! There was a silence. The German had been going to make a disparaging remark about the British evacuation from Dunkirk, but he thought better of it. It was likely that the girl’s father had been killed, and she was only a child, after all. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I hope you get news of him soon.” Anne was close to tears. Most of the time she managed to keep hoping that she would soon have news of her father, but as time passed, hope grew less and her father seemed like a distant figure whom she had known in some other life. Speaking of him brought back all the fluctuating hopes and fears she had gone through during the past months and she knew that if she once started crying she wouldn’t be able to stop. She hastily changed the subject. “What – what about your ankle?” she said. “Yes,” said Daisy, “let’s take a look. Janet, can you open the door a bit further so we can see?” In the extra light from the door, they could see that the young man was wearing corduroy trousers, one leg of which was rolled up. His foot was bare except for a handkerchief inexpertly tied round it and the ankle was very swollen. “Good heavens!” exclaimed Beth, “That’s huge! You won’t be able to walk on that any time soon. I think we’d better try to take you into the school, then Matey can take a look at it and bandage it up for you. How do you think we’d better manage, Daisy? Could we give him a queen’s chair?” “I don’t know. We could try,” said Daisy dubiously. “No, no, I couldn’t think of that,” replied the young man. This was awful! A whole school full of girls, who would stare and giggle! Not to mention adults, who might take rather too much interest in his recent activities. “I can’t put you to the trouble. I will stay here quietly and soon I will be able to walk. And perhaps my friend will come,” he added hopefully. “Does he know to look for you in the icehouse?” asked Beth practically. “Well, no …” Just then, the light was cult off again, as two people appeared in the doorway, evidently trying to see inside. The girls screamed in alarm, but as their eyes adjusted, they realised that one of the newcomers was known to them. “Aunt Joey! Just the person we want!” cried Daisy. “Peter! Was machts Du hier? Warum …” For th next few minutes everyone talked at once, explaining what they had been doing and how they came to be in the icehouse; but as she listened to the girls’ account of their afternoon’s activities and the problem of the young man’s injury, Jo managed to lend half an ear to the conversation between the two men. She was astonished to hear Herr Werfel say, without any attempt to lower his voice, “I think we can talk our way out of this one. You leave most of the talking to me. And slip me your gun as soon as you can – you don’t want to be found with that on you if things go badly and you’re searched.” “It’s in my rucksack. I don’t know if I can get it out without attracting attention.” “Damn! Well, I’ll think of something …” Jo couldn’t help staring at the two in amazement. It took her a few moments to realise that they had been speaking, not German, but Belsornian.

Author:	leahbelle [ Fri Mar 28, 2008 5:18 pm ]
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Oh, a lovely update! Thank you. I am really enjoying this and looking forward to the next installments.

Author:	roversgirl [ Fri Mar 28, 2008 5:47 pm ]
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Now THAT'S a turn of events... Thanks

Author:	Elbee [ Fri Mar 28, 2008 7:54 pm ]
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Even more intriguing now! Looking forward to more . Thanks, DuncanD.

Author:	abbeybufo [ Fri Mar 28, 2008 8:46 pm ]
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Ooooohh!! only just caught up with this - really intrigued now

Author:	di [ Sat Mar 29, 2008 10:23 am ]
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Wow! I didn't expect that. I hope Joey can get the girls out in one piece without scaring them or unnerving the men. Great reading, thanks.

Author:	Kathy_S [ Sat Mar 29, 2008 3:10 pm ]
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Belsornian! Didn't expect that. (And I doubt the interlopers thought anyone would understand it ) Thanks for the update.

Author:	crystaltips [ Sat Mar 29, 2008 4:09 pm ]
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Well, that was an unexpected twist! Thanks DuncanD. More soon, please

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Mon Mar 31, 2008 11:24 pm ]
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Ohhh, I wonder if this has anything to do with Elisaveta. Thanks I do feel sorry for Anne it must have been hard for her

Author:	Miss Di [ Tue Apr 01, 2008 2:00 am ]
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Thank goodness for Joey's superior language skills. Wasn't expecting Belsornian either, Thanks for the update and I look forward to another one!

Author:	Róisín [ Wed Apr 02, 2008 1:32 pm ]
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What's happening?! marvelling at Joey's memory

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Apr 03, 2008 3:55 pm ]
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Sorry, no cameo role planned for Elisaveta. Here's another bit: “I do beg your pardon,” cried Herr Werfel, seeing the expression on Jo’s face. “It is most rude of us! I was just asking Peter why he wasn’t there to meet me earlier. But we will speak English now. Allow me to perform the introductions. This is Peter Bernhardt, my friend whom I had intended to meet. Peter, this is Frau Doktor Maynard, who has kindly been showing me the grounds of Malahide Castle. Peter and I have known one another since we were children. Our families used to take holidays together in Belsornia, and we two learnt the local language from an old man in the forest near where we stayed. We used it as a secret language when we didn’t want our parents to know what we were saying. We had a lot of amusement from that!” “I’m sure you did!” replied Jo. “That’s just the sort of thing I would have liked to have done when I was a child. Tell me,” she added innocently, “where is Belsornia? It’s one of the Balkan states, isn’t it?” “Yes, that’s right,” replied Herr Werfel. “We had wonderful holidays there. And now Peter has been exploring Ireland. It is so nice here – one is always so close to the sea …” Franz Werfel was thinking furiously. When they were children, Franz, as the elder, had often had to get Peter out of scrapes. Now Peter had presented his friend with yet another awkward situation. He was evidently immobilised by the injury to his ankle, so simply making a run for it was out of the question. There was a gun in his rucksack: that was more of a liability than an asset, as if it were found it would be easily recognised as a Luger pistol – a well-known German weapon. And what else was in the rucksack? Maps? Those could be explained away by the tale of the walking tour. Notes? If there were notes, had he used any kind of code? Was there anything else that might identify him as a spy? Invisible ink? – or even (God forbid!) a false moustache? Peter was just the sort of person to take on this mission in a spirit of adventure, even of play-acting. But it was deadly serious. The war was going well for Germany, so far, but the air attacks on Britain which had taken place over the summer and early autumn had not succeeded in grounding the RAF. If German forces could gain a foothold in Ireland, it should surely be possible to bring the war to a quick finish. But not if Peter treated the whole thing like a game! Well, the thing to do now was to try to get the two of them back to Dublin as quickly as possible, preferably without meeting anyone else from the school. Jo was also thinking furiously. She was pretty sure that Herr Werfel and his friend were engaged in some kind of espionage. A walking tour would be a good cover for spying out suitable beaches for a German landing, for instance. The men had a gun, but it was in Herr Bernhardt’s rucksack at the moment – so where was the rucksack? The icehouse was both dark and very crowded with three adults and four children in it; in fact she and Herr Werfel were merely standing in the doorway. Presumably the rucksack was in a corner somewhere. She was fairly sure that, as a diplomat, albeit a junior one, Herr Werfel would avoid using the gun if at all possible, but she was less sure of his companion. Her best plan would be to get the two men up to the school. Then she could make a telephone call …

Author:	roversgirl [ Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:00 pm ]
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Fantastic! Thanks

Author:	PaulineS [ Thu Apr 03, 2008 8:06 pm ]
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Good more of this drabble.

Author:	crystaltips [ Thu Apr 03, 2008 8:15 pm ]
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There's no fooling Jo! Thanks

Author:	di [ Fri Apr 04, 2008 8:58 am ]
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This is getting really exciting. I hope Joey can get the girls to safety without any mishaps. Thanks.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Sat Apr 05, 2008 6:46 am ]
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di wrote: This is getting really exciting. I hope Joey can get the girls to safety without any mishaps. Thanks. Echoes this. Thanks

Author:	DuncanD [ Mon Apr 28, 2008 4:28 pm ]
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Another small update - I'm finding it difficult to work this bit out. “Peter, old man,” said Herr Werfel, “we must decide what to do about your injury. May I take a look? Would it be possible for the girls to move out for a minute so that I may get near you?” “Yes,” said Jo, “Daisy, I wish you’d go outside and see what’s happening to my babies – and you might take the others with you.” “Auntie Jo! You never said you had them here!” Daisy and Beth rushed out of the icehouse, followed more slowly by Anne and Janet. Daisy and Beth received a warm welcome from the babies, who were getting rather bored with sitting doing nothing and were quite ready for a game of “Round and round the garden goes the teddy bear” and sundry other diversions. Anne hung back, not quite liking to join in, while Janet remaied near the icehouse and tried to hear what was going on inside. “Now, let me take a look … Gott im Himmel! You’ve certainly done something nasty to that! I think I can make it more comfortable for you. Have you got something I can use as a bandage? Is there anything in your rucksack?” “I didn’t think of bringing bandages with me. I wasn’t expecting to sprain my ankle,” replied Herr Bernhardt somewhat petulantly. “You should always be prepared, as the Boy Scouts say, especially on a walking tour – is that not so, Frau Doktor? But perhaps I can find something that will do. Is there a spare shirt that I could tear up? Where is your rucksack, by the way?” “I have it here,” said Jo, “but there’s no need for you to start tearing up shirts. We’re not a hundred yards from the School, where there is a trained nurse with plenty of bandages and plenty of experience of sprains – though from the look of that I’d say you’ve broken something. It’s very bruised as well as swollen. Come on, Herr Werfel! I’m sure we can manage to carry him between us if we make a queen’s chair,” “What is a queen’s chair?” asked Herr Werfel. “I’ll show you in just a minute,” answered Jo, taking the rucksack with her to the door. “Here, Janet, could you take charge of this, please? We’re going to carry Herr Bernhardt up to the School, Herr Werfel and I, so if you carry that – and Daisy, if you push the pram and Beth gives you a hand if you need it – there, that should be OK. Now, Herr Werfel, this is what you do …” The two men found that there was no getting out of it. To the school they must go, willy-nilly!

Author:	PaulineS [ Mon Apr 28, 2008 5:44 pm ]
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Thank you for the update.

Author:	dorian [ Mon Apr 28, 2008 9:19 pm ]
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::cackling madly:: There's Peter and Franz properly stymied! Almost, I feel sorry for them...almost...

Author:	crystaltips [ Mon Apr 28, 2008 10:13 pm ]
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Lovely update, thanks

Author:	di [ Tue Apr 29, 2008 5:47 am ]
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Thanks, DuncanD, that was a great update. No one escapes Joey!!

Author:	Miss Di [ Wed Apr 30, 2008 3:27 am ]
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adding more wild cackles to Dorian's. Off to school they go then. Joey at her breezy best

Author:	leahbelle [ Wed Apr 30, 2008 4:02 pm ]
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Thanks for a great update

Author:	Kathy_S [ Sun May 04, 2008 2:39 am ]
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Bet they're not happy. Especially with Janet carrying the gun, never mind whatever Joey's up to. Thanks for the update!

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed May 07, 2008 4:49 pm ]
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Thanks for all the comments. Another few paragraphs: The little procession set off along the path and in a surprisingly short time was nearing the back door of the castle. They had just passed through the archway into a sort of small courtyard, when they heard the sound of merry voices. The birdwatching party was returning, somewhat cold and damp, but delighted with their afternoon. When they saw Jo and the babies, the group broke up and surrounded them, all talking at once. Jo unceremoniously abandoned Herr Bernhardt. “Here,” she said, “you can manage to stand on one foot for a minute or two – lean on Herr Werfel. I must just go and talk to …” She made her way over to Robin who was bringing up the rear with Violet Allison and Suzanne Mercier. She explained as briefly as she could about Herr Bernhardt and his injury, and asked Robin to look after the babies while she took him to Matron. This took some time, as she was interrupted several times by girls wanting to ask what she was doing there and whether she was bringing the babies in for a visit, or wanting to tell her all they had seen on the estuary. Herr Bernhardt regarded the scene with a jaundiced eye. He felt extremely foolish, standing here on one foot, his clothes muddied and a grubby handkerchief round his bare foot. There was a little consolation in the fact that Herr Werfel was also muddy; but he seemed completely self-possessed, looking around with calm amusement. “What a noise!” murmured Herr Werfel, “It’s like the parrot-house at the zoo!” Then the door behind them opened and a small, wiry lady in nurse’s uniform appeared. She clapped her hands and silence descended. “I was going to ask what all the noise was,” she said, “but I see it’s you and your babies, Joey. Come on, girls, off to the splasheries and change your shoes, and then you may talk to the visitors. Anyone who has wet feet,” (several girls, including Elizabeth Arnett and Betty Wynne-Davies, looked guilty at this) “go up to your dormitory and change your stockings as well. Daisy Venables, what are you doing out of doors without a coat? And Beth Chester! You aren’t supposed to be out of doors at all! And Janet Morris – and Anne Ormond. Good heavens, child, you look positively blue! You four, go straight upstairs and have a hot bath. Then go to your dormitory and get into bed. I’ll bring you up a hot drink in twenty minutes’ time. You can explain then just why you were outside.” The four scuttled away ignominiously towards the stairs. Trust Matey to notice that they weren’t wearing coats! The rest of the girls headed for the splasheries, and as the last of the crowd cleared, Matron turned to Jo. “You know we’re always glad to see you and the triplets, Joey, but this isn’t really a very good time. It’s almost tea-time, you know.” “Yes, Matey, I know. I’m afraid it just happened that way – it’s rather a long story. Do you think we could go inside? Oh! – I’d better introduce you. This is Herr Werfel, whom I’ve met at various functions that I went to with Juliet. He’s in the German embassy. And this is Herr Bernhardt, a friend of his. He managed to slip and fall into a ditch, and injured his ankle. I thought you could take a look at it for him and see if it’s just a sprain or something more serious. He certainly can’t put it to the ground now.” “I see,” said Matron. “And what are you proposing to do with your babies?” “I’ve spoken to Robin – I thought perhaps the prefects could look after them for a while. They could take them up to the prefects’ room.” “Hmm … yes, I suppose that would be all right. Let me see – the first thing is to find somewhere for this unfortunate young man to sit down. In here, I think,” she said, opening a door close to the entrance. “This is the domestic staff sitting-room, but there won’t be anyone in it at the moment. Most of the maids have the afternoon off and those that are on duty will be in the kitchen. That’s right, put him in this chair here – now, put your foot up on this pouffe” Herr Bernhardt, who had managed to hop the few yards into the castle supported by his friend, collapsed thankfully. Herr Werfel looked around interestedly at the comfortable, shabby chairs, the table with a small pile of magazines and the big wireless in the corner. Matron bustled off, to return a few minutes later with a bowl of warm water and a first aid kit. “Sorry to be a nuisance, Matey,” said Jo. “May I leave you for a few moments? I’d like to have a word with Miss Annersley. Where would she be at this time of day, do you know?” “She’s probably in the study, or else in her sitting-room on the floor above.” “Thanks, Matey. – Back in a minute!” she added to the two men, as she disappeared. Jo sped up the stairs and tapped on the door of the Oak Room. When there was no reply, she stuck her head round the door, and finding the room empty, she entered, closed the door and moved quietly to the telephone.

Author:	PaulineS [ Wed May 07, 2008 7:09 pm ]
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Thanks for the update, What is Joey up to now???

Author:	di [ Wed May 07, 2008 7:22 pm ]
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Notifying the authorities I hope! Trust Matey to take it all in her stride, I love the way she deals with Joey. Thanks for the update.

Author:	Miss Di [ Thu May 08, 2008 4:07 am ]
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Great update, love the juxtaposition of the domestic scene and the bad guys

Author:	crystaltips [ Fri May 09, 2008 2:15 pm ]
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Lovely updates, thanks Duncan

Author:	Róisín [ Sat May 10, 2008 12:55 pm ]
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Thanks for the update Daphne! Just caught up again

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri May 23, 2008 5:33 pm ]
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Daisy, Beth, Janet and Anne trailed up to the dormitory that they shared with Isabel and Melanie, feeling somewhat apprehensive about the coming interview with Matron. “Phew! This thing is heavy!” said Janet, as she dropped Herr Bernhardt’s rucksack on the floor. “Goodness, you’ve still got his rucksack!” said Daisy. “What should we do about giving it back?” “Somebody is bound to come and fetch it when he notices it’s gone – they know I’ve got it. But I’m going to take a jolly good look into it first!” “Janet, you can’t!” cried Daisy “Why not?” “You can’t just go poking around among someone else’s things!” “You wouldn’t like it if someone did that to you,” added Beth. “I’m sure he’s a spy,” said Janet, “and I’m going to find out what he’s up to!” “What’s going on?” said a fresh voice, as Isabel appeared in the dormitory. “Where have you all been, and who were those men – were you with them? And what’s your Aunt Joey doing here, Daisy? Tell me quick, I’ve got to change my stockings or Matey will be after me.” “We decided to go exploring again, “ said Beth, “and we went to look for that underground passage that Mary told us about – the one that goes to the icehouse.” “You mean things! You might have waited for me – I did want to explore an underground passage!” “Well, we were bored in the common room, and you were out enjoying yourself,” replied Beth. “The underground passage is quite short, actually, but when we got to the icehouse there was a man there – a German!” “A German spy!” said Janet. “He might not be,” said Daisy. “Anyway,” continued Beth, “he was in the icehouse, and he couldn’t walk because he’d hurt his ankle, so we thought we should bring him up to Matey so she could strap it up for him. But then Auntie Jo – Mrs. Maynard – turned up with that other man, who turned out to be German too, and he said he knew the first man, and they said they wanted to go back to Dublin, but Auntie Jo persuaded them to come up to the castle, and then Matey saw us and sent us up here – and that’s it, really.” “Do you think he really is a German spy?” asked Isabel. “We’ve no proof, really,” began Daisy, but she was interrupted by Janet. “Of course he’s a spy! One, he said he was on a walking tour – but who would go on a walking tour in Ireland in November? It’s been raining nearly all week. Two, what’s a German doing in Ireland at all, anyway? Three, he was talking some strange foreign language with that other man – “ “Yes,” said Beth, “and when Auntie Jo heard him she stared like anything! Do you think she understood what they were saying?” “Yes! Of course!” cried Daisy. “They said they were speaking Belsornian, and she does understand it – some, anyway. The Crown Princess of Belsornia was at the school in Tyrol, and she was a friend of hers.” “There!” said Janet. “He must be a spy – or up to no good, at any rate. I’m going to open this rucksack!” “I don’t think you should do that,” said Isabel. “Why not?” “Because if you do, and you find something in it – some evidence – he could say you planted it there. It should be opened in front of witnesses who can say you didn’t put anything in or take anything out.” “The rest of you can be witnesses.” Janet looked round at the others. Daisy was looking doubtful, Anne frankly scared. “We could,” said Isabel, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea. A grown-up should be a witness – preferably a policeman.” “How do you know so much about it?” asked Janet. “My father’s a barrister. He sometimes talks about his cases, once they’re over, and explains – Oh heavens! There’s the tea bell, and I haven’t found my clean stockings! I’m going to have to go down as I am and hope Matey doesn’t notice!” With that, Isabel vanished. “I think I’ll go and have my bath,” said Anne, “I’m feeling a bit cold.” “Anne! Matey was right – you look quite blue,” said Daisy. “You go and have your bath, and Beth had better go too; Janet and I will go when you’ve finished. But don’t be too long,” she added, “or Matey will catch us out of bed when she comes up.” Anne and Beth hurried off to the bathroom, and Daisy and Janet were left in the dormitory. “Did you know about Anne’s father?” asked Daisy “No – she’s never said a word. Isn’t it awful? Fancy not knowing what happened to him after all these months.” “I suppose the hopeful thing is that he’s just ‘missing’ – not ‘missing, presumed killed’. All the same …” Daisy shook herself. “We should get undressed and put on our dressing-gowns, “she said practically. “That will save time later.”

Author:	di [ Fri May 23, 2008 5:56 pm ]
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Great update. I would look in the ruck sack - but then I'm nosy. Hope the girls are able to find someone to show it too. Thanks, DuncanD

Author:	roversgirl [ Fri May 23, 2008 6:51 pm ]
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Hope the girls don't look! Thanks

Author:	crystaltips [ Fri May 23, 2008 7:15 pm ]
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Lovely update thanks. Think the girls should wait before opening the rucksack - imagine the shock if they find guns!

Author:	PaulineS [ Fri May 23, 2008 8:36 pm ]
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Thanks for the update. At least Matey will know what to do about the rucksack.

Author:	abbeybufo [ Fri May 23, 2008 9:21 pm ]
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I should think the guns are in it - sure that was implied earlier . . . hope they can restrain themselves until they can open it in front of a 'responsible adult' thanks Daphne

Author:	Kathy_S [ Sat May 24, 2008 1:21 am ]
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Hope the adult they choose hasn't scruples about opening it, under the circumstances! Thank you, Daphne.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Fri May 30, 2008 12:28 pm ]
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Thanks Daphne. It was nice to catch up on so much. Glad Isabel spoke with all that common sense. Looking forward to what will happen next

Author:	DuncanD [ Sun Jun 29, 2008 9:09 pm ]
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Sorry it took so long to get round to upeating this. I had a lot of trouble with the next few scenes ... Matron was not able to make good her promise to bring the girls their hot drink in twenty minutes. As she finished strapping up Herr Bernhardt’s foot, Joey reappeared with Miss Annersley, and after some discussion the men agreed to stay and have tea at the castle. As Joey said, they could contact the local taxi man when they had eaten. Matron couldn’t quite grasp what was going on between Jo and the two men: she seemed to be in a giddy, talkative mood. It seemed very odd that she should be so friendly to someone from the German embassy (and his unknown friend), after her experiences in Austria after the Anschluss. Matron considered what she should do as she bustled about, organising tea and sandwiches, and eventually decided to take her cue from Jo and be ready to back her up. To be ready for anything, in fact, if she knew Jo! When she arrived in the dormitory with a tray of hot milk and sandwiches, Matron found the four girls under the covers, but with their cubicle curtains drawn back. Anne was looking frightened, Janet mulish, and the other two were trying to look innocent. “Now girls,” she said, putting down her tray, “I hope you’re feeling a bit warmer. You’d better sit up to drink your milk.” She saw that they were wearing jumpers, or in Daisy’s case, the bed-jacket she had made the previous summer in a fit of enthusiasm for knitting. The said garment had rather more holes in it than were specified in the pattern, and was a startling shade of orange, but Daisy was very proud of it. The milk and sandwiches disappeared in short order; the girls hadn’t realised how hungry they were. Then Matron collected the mugs and the inquisition began. “Daisy, you’re fairly sensible. Can you tell me exactly what you’ve all been doing since lunchtime?” Daisy, with help from Beth and one or two interruptions from Janet, gave a bald account of their afternoon. When she finished, Matron said “Well, girls, I quite understand that once you’d found an injured person, you had to do whatever you could to help him. And that young man was lucky that you were there. However, you shouldn’t have been there. You were supposed to stay indoors because two of you had colds.” “But, Matron,” said Janet, “when we started out we didn’t know we would have to go outside – we knew that the passage led directly to the icehouse, and we were just going to look at it. We weren’t going to go out.” If it had been any other girl, Matron would have quelled her with a look; but she had found out by experience that Janet was not easily quelled. Despite the fact that she could be both stubborn and truculent, Matron had developed a soft spot for the girl, who, truth to tell, closely resembled Matron herself at that age. Matron explained patiently, “When you have a cold, Janet, you need to stay in an even temperature. If you go into cold air, it irritates your nose and your throat and your chest, and that makes a comfortable environment for the cold germs – though it doesn’t make you very comfortable. I don’t suppose it was very warm in that underground passage, so your colds are likely to get worse, and Anne and Daisy will probably catch colds as well. Do you understand?” “Yes, Matron,” said Janet. “Now,” Matron continued, “I think you had all better spend the rest of today in bed, as a precaution. Tomorrow morning, you are to stay in bed until I’ve seen you.” No one protested; this was no more than they had expected. “There’s just one more thing. What happened to Herr Bernhardt’s rucksack? I think you carried it up to the castle for him?” “Yes, Matron,” said Janet, “Here it is,” and she produced it from the corner of her cubicle. “Thank you, Janet. Did any of you open it or look into it or tamper with it in any way?” The girls looked at one another. Janet answered. “No, Matron, we didn’t,” she said. “I wanted to, because I’m sure that man is a spy, but Isabel came in and said that it should be opened before witnesses, because if there is any evidence in it – papers or anything – he could say we put it there.” “I see. Isabel is quite right – that girl has her head screwed on. I’ll take charge of the rucksack now.” “You’re not going to just give it back to him!” cried Janet in consternation Matron did not answer for a few moments. Somehow, she was not surprised by Janet’s suggestion that Herr Bernhardt was a spy: it seemed to fit the facts as she knew them and her own feeling that there was something not quite right about the two Germans. However, she was not sure what to say to the girls, for she could foresee rumours spreading round the school, picking up dramatic and circumstantial detail on the way. Eventually she said, “You think Herr Bernhardt is a spy, do you? Well, that’s certainly possible. But remember, girls, that everyone is innocent until proven guilty. That is the basic principle of British law, and it’s the only way to ensure justice. I admit that there seems to be something strange going on, and I intend to consult Miss Annersley about how we should proceed; we may have to place the matter in the hands of the Irish police.” (Matron, in common with some of the other English members of the staff, found it difficult to say “Gardaí”.) “Now, you’re to go to sleep, and please don’t talk about this to anyone else.” Then Matron picked up the rucksack and her tray, and left the room.

Author:	Mollio [ Mon Jun 30, 2008 12:25 am ]
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I've been out of action for a while and have just caught up with this. It's marvellous! Thank you.

Author:	di [ Mon Jun 30, 2008 7:08 am ]
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Great to see this back again, hope the plot bunnies are back to working ok. Matron does seem to have her head screwed on properly in the way she dealt with the girls; I hope they suffer nothing worse than a prolonged head cold - well worth the excitement! Thanks, DuncanD

Author:	leahbelle [ Mon Jun 30, 2008 3:23 pm ]
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Great to see an update. Thanks, duncand.

Author:	Miss Di [ Wed Jul 02, 2008 3:47 am ]
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Currently suffering with a nasty cold I hope they all escape any nasty after affects of their escapades!

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Jul 02, 2008 4:14 pm ]
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Thanks for all your comments. Next bit: Leaving her tray in the kitchen, Matron made her way towards the sitting room where she had left the Germans having tea with Jo and Miss Annersley. As she passed the back door, she glanced through the small window to one side of it and saw a large black car draw up in the courtyard. A man got out, leaving someone in the driving seat, and strode purposefully towards the door. Without waiting for him to ring the bell, she opened it. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” said the man, producing a card. “I’m Inspector O’Hanrahan. I’ve had a call from Mrs. Maynard – she’s still here, is she? I gather she’s found a couple of Germans acting suspiciously.” “Yes,” replied Matron, indicating the door of the sitting room, “they’re all in there.” “Grand! And you would be …?” “I’m Miss Lloyd. I’m the Matron. One of the Germans has sprained his ankle rather badly; I bandaged it up for him, but he won’t be able to walk for several days.” “That’s all to the good. He’ll not run away on us, so. In here, you said?” Matron ushered the newcomer into the room. “Inspector O’Hanrahan!” cried Jo, leaping up, “There you are! I’m glad you could come. This is Miss Annersley, the Headmistress of the Chalet School, and you seem to have met Miss Lloyd, the Matron, already. This is Herr Franz Werfel of the German embassy, and this gentleman with the injured foot is Herr Peter Bernhardt,” “Good afternoon, ladies – gentlemen. I’m Inspector O’Hanrahan of the Aliens Bureau; here is my ID. I’m sorry to trouble you, gentlemen, but you’ll understand that I have a job to do. I’m sure you appreciate that Ireland is in a difficult position in this war. It’s less than twenty years since we won our independence, and to maintain that independence we must guard our neutrality very carefully. At any time, either one or the other of the combatants might decide to invade Ireland – the British to gain access to our Atlantic ports, the Germans to use Ireland as a base for an invasion of Britain. And we intend to defend ourselves. We have to be on the alert at all times against espionage and subversive activity. Of course, sometimes people can be mistaken, and see perfectly innocent behaviour as subversive activity. But I’m sure you understand that once I get a report, I have to look into it. So now, I’m sure, gentlemen, you won’t mind answering a few questions?” “Of course, Inspector, ask anything you like,” replied Herr Werfel. The Inspector looked inquiringly at Herr Bernhardt. “Yes - yes, ask what you want,” he said. “Now, Mr. Werfel, how long have you been in Ireland?” “Two years, Inspector,” “And you, Mr. Bernhardt?” “Oh yes, I was in England, at Oxford University, you know, and when the War came it seemed that I would be interned as an enemy alien, so I moved to Dublin to continue my studies,” “And this would be when?” “About a year ago.” “And what are you studying?” “Geology. Ireland is most interesting from the geological point of view: the glaciation is the result of glaciers flowing across the land in different directions – yes, most interesting. And I love to make wandering in the hills and along the coast, so I can combine this with my studies.” “What about you, Mr. Werfel, are you interested in geology too?” “No, I don’t share my friend’s enthusiasm. I enjoy walking, though, especially by the sea. I like to be close to the sea.” “So, Mr. Bernhardt, can you tell me what you have been doing for the past week? Have you been studying?” “No, at least only partly – I have been making a walking tour. I took the train to Wexford and walked northwards along the coast, looking at the types of rocks and so on. I must write a report on this part of the coastline.” “I see,” said Inspector O’Hanrahan, “so I suppose you made notes of where you went and what you saw?” “Yes, indeed – I must make very careful notes. I can tell you exactly where I was and when.” “And where are these notes now?” “They are in my rucksack, but I have not got it at the moment. One of the young ladies carried it to the castle for me, but then she took it away with her before I could prevent.” Joey moved to the door and produced the rucksack from behind a chair, where Matron had placed it out of sight. “Is this it?” she asked. “Ah, here we are,” said Inspector O’Hanrahan, taking the rucksack from Joey. “Is this yours, sir?” “Ye-es …” said Herr Bernhardt, looking at his friend. Herr Werfel’s face was inscrutable. “Do you mind if I take a look?” asked the Inspector. Jo moved forward a little, so as to be able to see too. Suddenly, Peter Bernhardt was on his feet. He flung an arm around Joey’s neck, forcing her head back, produced a small, wicked-looking knife apparently from nowhere, and held it against her throat. “No, Mr. Policeman, you may not take a look! You will sit down quietly, and you will make no moves, and you will allow my friend Herr Werfel and me to go outside to your car and to drive it away. And you will not follow us, for if I see you – or any other car – behind us, I will use my knife. I have experience, you know, of killing pigs and other farm animals.”

Author:	di [ Wed Jul 02, 2008 4:20 pm ]
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Aaaah! How is Joey going to get out of this one. Is Rufus around any where? He's rescued her in the past and would make mince meat out of these two chaps. Please don't keep us in suspense for too long. Thanks, DuncanD

Author:	Elbee [ Wed Jul 02, 2008 9:20 pm ]
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Thanks DuncanD

Author:	Miss Di [ Thu Jul 03, 2008 2:40 am ]
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Gah. Cliffs. With sharp pointy things. Please don't keep us hanging too long!

Author:	meerium [ Thu Jul 03, 2008 10:47 am ]
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Blimey, Daphne But yay! It's back! And hi!

Author:	crystaltips [ Thu Jul 03, 2008 1:42 pm ]
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Good to see this back but what an ending! Hope we don't have to wait too long to see how this is resolved. Thanks Duncand

Author:	leahbelle [ Thu Jul 03, 2008 4:20 pm ]
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Thanks, DuncanD. How is Joey going to get out of this!

Author:	dorian [ Thu Jul 03, 2008 9:56 pm ]
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Now, has Joey the sense to simply fall backwards onto him...?

Author:	DuncanD [ Fri Jul 04, 2008 12:46 pm ]
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Last bit for a few weeks - I'm off to France on holiday. Otherwise you'd have had longer to enjoy the Cliff! There was a stunned silence. Inspector O’Hanrahan said, “Come, now, sir, I’m sure there’s no need for this. I’m sure we can talk it over sensibly …” Herr Bernhardt looked at his friend, who had also got to his feet. The two men stared at one another for a few moments, then, with a slight shake of the head, Her Werfel said, “Come on, Peter, this won’t get you anywhere - ” “You don’t take me seriously! I am serious! See!” He made a quick slash with the knife, and a line of blood appeared on the side of Jo’s face. She gave a kind of groan and buckled at the knees, catching Herr Bernhardt off balance, for he had effectively been standing on one foot. The two of them crashed down in a tangled heap. Jo managed to free herself by means of a convulsive wriggle and a well-placed elbow in Bernhardt’s solar plexus, while Inspector O’Hanrahan removed the knife and twisted Bernhardt’s arm behind his back. “Could someone go out to the car and call my driver, please?” Matron left the room, while Peter Bernhardt addressed his friend from his uncomfortable position on the floor. “Franz! Why did you not support me? We could have got away – the car is just out there in the courtyard. Why won’t you help me? All my work will be for nothing! Why?” Herr Werfel shook his head. “For heaven’s sake, Peter, be sensible! Get away? Where could we get away to? Do you think I’ve any desire to drive round the country with a hostage in the back seat? And what then? Were you going to spend the night in a hotel?” “Franz! How can you speak like that? Do you not care? Have you no loyalty to the Führer? to the Fatherland?” “Certainly I am loyal to the Fatherland. But no purpose will be served by behaving like a character in a third-rate gangster film. You are making us both ridiculous.” “You have no loyalty!” Bernhardt repeated. “You care for nothing, so long as you can sit here in Ireland, eating and drinking your fill, while our families and our friends suffer all kinds of privation. You are a coward, a cheat, a rat – Schweinhund! Scheisskerl! Leck mich doch am Arsch!” No one had noticed the door opening to admit Matron and the Garda driver, but now Matron made her presence felt. “Ruhig!” she cried. “Man soll nicht so vor Damen sprechen! Ich muss dein Mund mit Senf auswaschen!” This speech stopped Bernhardt in his tracks. He stared stupidly at Matron with his mouth open, while the Garda driver produced handcuffs and locked them round his wrists. Jo burst into a fit of giggles; Miss Annersley seemed to be trying to suppress a smile; Herr Werfel looked somewhat puzzled. The Garda pulled Bernhardt to his feet, holding him firmly, and looked enquiringly at the Inspector. “Peter Bernhardt,” said Inspector O’Hanrahan, “I am arresting you – ” “You cannot arrest me,” said Bernhardt sulkily, “I have done nothing! You have no proof!” “No proof of what? I have four witnesses to your attack on Mrs. Maynard. I am arresting you for assault; there may be further charges later. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence. Mr. Werfel, I’m not arresting you, but I would be obliged if you would come with us; we’ll be wanting to contact the Embassy later. Ladies, I’ll be wanting to talk to you, probably tomorrow. I’ll ring and let you know when I’m coming. Now, where’s that rucksack? Goodbye, Miss Annersley, Miss Lloyd, Mrs. Maynard. We’ll see ourselves out.” As the door closed behind them, Joey burst into renewed giggles. “Come here, Jo, and let me see that cut,” said Matron. “And stop that hysterical giggling.” “I’m not hysterical, Matey! It was what you said!” and she was off again. This time, Miss Annersley joined in the laughter. “And what did I say that you both find so amusing? That young man certainly deserved to have his mouth washed out!” “Yes, but you volunteered to wash it out with mustard!”

Author:	Mrs Redboots [ Fri Jul 04, 2008 7:25 pm ]
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Thank you, DuncanD! I did wonder if you wanted Matron to wash his mouth out with soap or with mustard.....

Author:	di [ Fri Jul 04, 2008 7:58 pm ]
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That was funny. I'm sat giggling away at the computer with all the animals looking at me as if I'm mad. Mustard indeed, whatever next. Pleased all are safe Thanks, DuncanD, Enjoy France.

Author:	Miss Di [ Sun Jul 06, 2008 6:43 am ]
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Well at least she didn't offer to wash it out with Holy Water. Have a great trip!

Author:	leahbelle [ Mon Jul 07, 2008 4:16 pm ]
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Thanks, DuncanD. That was really funny! Have a lovely break.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Mon Jul 07, 2008 8:35 pm ]
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Thanks, that was great

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Mon Jul 07, 2008 8:35 pm ]
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Thanks, that was great

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Sep 10, 2008 12:38 pm ]
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Back from holidays in France, nephew's wedding in York, music course, choir trip to Warwick, son's wedding in Ireland ... Quite exhausted, but here's another small bit . The staff were relaxing in their sitting-room, which had once been an elegant drawingroom. At prayers, Miss Annersly had informed the school that a German had been found acting suspiciously in the grounds, and had been removed by the police. He had tried to escape and Mrs. Maynard had been slightly injured in the ensuing fracas. She had just finished telling the full story to the staff, who were suitably shocked at the tale, until she mentioned Matron’s reaction to the German’s bad language. This caused a great deal of laughter, once the joke had been explained to those who didn’t speak German. “I’m qute resigned,” said Matron. “I know Jo is never going to let me forget that mustard! You should be grateful to me, Grizel,” she added, turning to that lady, “she won’t mention the holy water quite so often now that she has something new to laugh at.” “I’m not counting on it,” said Grizel gloomily. “What holy water?” someone asked Grizel groaned, but recounted the story of how she asked for “heiliges Wasser” (holy water) instead of “heisses Wasser” (hot water) in a hairdresser’s in Innsbruck. “How is Jo, Matey?” she asked, as the laughter subsided. “Is she much hurt?” “It was quite a nasty cut,” answered Matron; “we called Dr. Rose and he put a couple of stitches in it. I must say, he was very good with her – sympathetic, but very matter-of-fact, so she didn’t faint or have hysterics. Then he ran her home – he lives on Church Road too. The last I heard, he was suggesting she had a sherry before her dinner and an early night. Robin took the triplets home in the pram and she’ll stay the night. I think she’d been planning to spend tomorrow with Jo in any case.” “That’s good,” said Grizel. “It could have been a lot worse.” “It could, indeed,” said Miss Annersley. “I don’t know if we can keep the details from the girls – these things have a habit of leaking out, no-one knows how – but I would ask you all to be ready to quash any wild rumours. The truth is wild enough, goodness knows!” “What I want to know,” said Grizel, “is how we’re to prevent an epidemic of searching for Germans and secret passages,” I'm not sure if Madge is in Ireland to fuss over Joey's nasty experience. Dorian left it a bit ambiguous at the beginning, and then she wasn't mentioned ... maybe they couldn't move the San after all.

Author:	Mrs Redboots [ Wed Sep 10, 2008 7:40 pm ]
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Thanks, DuncanD. I love this story, and always enjoy it when there's an update. If Madge and Jem couldn't move the San, presumably they'd have been interned by now?

Author:	Mollio [ Thu Sep 11, 2008 12:26 am ]
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Fantastic to see this back. Hope you enjoyed the activities you've had recently. I'll only presume you had rain for the wedding! It's all we've had here this 'summer'.

Author:	di [ Thu Sep 11, 2008 5:45 am ]
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Great to see this back. Ireland has mountains doen't it, so it is possible that the San has moved with the school. Mind you it won't hurt Joey to cope without Madge. Thanks, DuncanD

Author:	PaulineS [ Fri Sep 12, 2008 4:05 pm ]
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They could have moved the San to a differing part of Ireland, So that Madge is safe but not near enough to fuss over Joey. You can make your decision.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Sun Sep 14, 2008 10:12 pm ]
Post subject:
Great to see more of this, thanks

Author:	dorian [ Sat Sep 20, 2008 9:21 pm ]
Post subject:
I had a vague idea that the San might move into St. Ita's in Portrane. Never got round to doing anything with it, though, so you may use or discard as you see fit.

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Oct 09, 2008 4:34 pm ]
Post subject:
I don't need the San for the moment, so i'll have a think about it. Though I rather think that St. Ita's would give you what you never had! (It's a Victorian red brick mental hospital .) “I’ve had an idea about that,” said Mary Burnett rather diffidently. “I don’t know if it will work, though,” “What is it?” asked Miss Wilson. “Well, here we are living in a castle – but how much do we know about it – the history, the architecture, the layout, even? Why are the walls of this room painted orange, for instance? When were the different parts built? What was the castle’s role in Irish history? I thought we could organise guided tours for the girls, bring in bits of history, and the ghost stories, and we could include the underground passage and the icehouse – ” “I see,” said Grizel, “you think that if they’ve been brought to see an underground passage by their teachers they won’t find it exciting.” “Well, not exactly – I think we could make the tour very interesting for them. But I would hope that by including it we would satisfy their curiosity.” “Who would lead the tour? And how would you organise it?” asked Miss Wilson. “I thought we could put them into groups of about ten. I suppose a tour would take about an hour, and we could have perhaps three going at the same time – we’d establish a route that the tours would follow so that they wouldn’t get in eachother’s way.” “I think it’s a very good suggestion,” said Miss Wilson. “Who would lead the tours?” “I would, for one,” said Mary, “but I haven’t asked anyone else yet. Would you like to, Nora?” “I’m not sure I know enough to be much use,” replied Nora Sullivan, “but I suppose there’s a book that we could read up …” “The person you want,” said Matron firmly, “is Mary Heffernan.” “Mary Heffernan? I don’t think I know her,” said Mary Burnett. “Yes, you do – she’s one of the maids, the tall girl with a lot of dark hair. She has worked here ever since she left school, and she’s an expert on the castle’s history.” “Really?” said Mary, “That’s rather unusual,” “She’s an unusual girl. She went to the local National School, and did very well there; the Principal thought that she should stay at school and try for a scholarship to go to teacher-training college; but her father died and she had to go to work. She was very relieved when the School took over the castle – otherwise she would have had to take the boat to England. There’s plenty of work there now, of course, but she didn’t want to leave her mother, who isn’t too well at the moment. Seemingly, Lord Talbot took an interest in her and encouraged her to read anything she liked in the Library here; and he discussed books with her and suggested further reading, and also told her a lot about the history of the castle and the Talbot family. Now she’s one of the leading lights of the local Historical Society.” “That sounds good! But will she be able to make it interesting for the girls?” “Yes, indeed! A few weeks ago I overheard her talking to a couple of girls I had in the San with colds. She was telling them about the castle ghosts, and she had them eating out of her hand. I have to admit I was fascinated too. I stayed in the little kitchen, listening, for quite a while before I interrupted her.” “Good heavens!” cried Miss Wilson, “I never thought I’d hear of you encouraging idleness in the maids! You must have been fascinated!” “I don’t know why you all think I’m such a dragon,” said Matron plaintively. “A few minutes here or there doesn’t make any difference, provided the work gets done. Anyway, she was dusting while she talked – I could hear her moving things.” “To get back to the idea of tours of the castle,” said Miss Annersley, “I think it’s a very good idea. Could you approach Mary Heffernan about it, Matey? Then Mary and Nora can get together with her and decide how to organise the tours, which parts of the castle to cover, and so on. Could you be ready by next weekend, do you think, Mary?” “I hope so – I’ll let you know once I’ve talked to Mary.” “Thank you. Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m jaded, as they say in these parts. I’m off to bed. Goodnight, everyone.”

Author:	PaulineS [ Thu Oct 09, 2008 8:11 pm ]
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Good to see more of this. Matey response to Mary was sensative and might mean that Mary can be helped to reach her potential.

Author:	di [ Fri Oct 10, 2008 5:46 am ]
Post subject:
What a good idea- but knowing certain members of the school a tour may just give them inspiration for more naughty episodes. Looking forward to more!! Thank you DuncanD

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Fri Oct 10, 2008 7:58 am ]
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Matey was lovely and can just imagine her taking an interest in the maids like that

Author:	Elbee [ Fri Oct 10, 2008 8:09 am ]
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Matey was very thoughtful there, but is it really a good idea to show naughty Middles the secret passages Thanks, DuncanD.

Author:	Lisa_T [ Sat Oct 11, 2008 1:26 am ]
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Oh this is fantastic. I really must get to Malahide one of these days and check it out - it sounds marvellous. Loved the spies and Matey and the mustard and Anne and Janet and Miss A picking up the local slang! How are the School dealing with Irish accents? Given that they were always on at Biddy to talk properly how would they deal with 'th' sounds for example?

Author:	moiser30 [ Sun Oct 12, 2008 2:43 pm ]
Post subject:
this is fantastic. I love it

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Oct 29, 2008 5:17 pm ]
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Not sure what the CS authorities would do about Irish accents. I presume most of the Irish pupils wouldn't have the standard "creamy Kerry brogue" and they'd hardly be "rale Dubbalin" either, given the fees the CS would charge! But usually, anyway, a normal educated Irish accent sounds quite respectable to English people. In twos and threes, the staff left the room, and Matron, as the last person left, put the fire guard up in front of the remains of the fire, and turned out the lights, before seeking her own room. As she reached the head of the stairs, she heard a sound from the Blue dormitory where Daisy and her friends slept. Matron entered quietly and soon located the sound in the second cubicle along. She switched on her torch and pulled back the curtain. Anne was sitting up in bed, sobbing wildly, while Janet, sitting on the edge of the bed, patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and muttered “it’s all right” and “there, there” at intervals. “Oh, Matron!” she cried, “Thank goodness! Anne’s had an awful dream and I can’t get her to stop crying!” “All right, Janet,” murmered Matron, “Go and put on your dressing gown and slippers, and then you can help me take her to the San.” “Wassamatter?” asked a sleepy voice from another cubicle. “Nothing. Anne’s not well and I’m taking her to the San. Go back to sleep.” With Janet’s help, Matron was able to put on Anne’s dressing gown and slippers for her, and soon both girls were installed in armchairs by the fire in the little room where convalescent patients were allowed to sit up when they were well enough to be out of bed. Matron made up the fire and produced some blankets. “You’ve both got yourselves very cold again! Here, wrap this round you, “she said, passing one of the blankets to Janet and wrapping another round Anne’s shoulders. “Here’s a handkerchief, now try to stop crying – you’ll make yourself ill.” Anne’s sobs were becoming less, but even as she blew her nose and wiped her eyes, more tears came. Matron turned to Janet. “Do you know what the dream was about?” “Not really, Matron. She said something about her father, and then she started crying like this. But she told us earlier today that her father was in the British army, and he was posted missing after Dunkirk.” “I see. Well, we’ll talk about it later. For the moment, you both need a hot drink inside you.” And Matron bustled off to the little room next door, which had been fitted up as a kitchen for the San. “Oh dear, hot milk again!” said Janet, hoping to distract her friend. “I do hate it!” Anne blew her nose again but said nothing. However, whether Matron had heard Janet’s remark, or whether she thought that cocoa would hide the taste of the half aspirin which she hoped would help Anne to sleep, when Matron reappeared, she was bearing a tray with three cups of cocoa and a plate of fig rolls. “I’ve become very partial to fig rolls since we came to Ireland,” she remarked, passing the plate to the girls and pulling up a chair. Hardly had she sat down than there was a miaow outside the door. She stood up again. “Oh, dear, I’m going to have to let him in,” she said, going to the door. “otherwise he tries to tear down the door. He’s managed to take quite a lot of paint off it already.” “Fwrrrp!” said Boxer, stalking in with his tail in the air. He went over to the kitchen door, turned, and looked meaningfully at Matron. “Oh, all right! You may have some milk,” she said, following him. When his wants had been supplied, she returned to her seat, while the cat leapt on to Anne’s lap. Anne put her cup down carefully and stroked him; he reciprocated by butting her chin. Matron drank her cocoa in silence and offered Janet another fig roll. Janet took it, marvelling. She looked around at the cosy scene: the flickering firelight; Matron, wearing the skirt and twinset she had changed into for the evening, and consequently looking more like somebody’s favourite auntie than her usual starchy self; the cat sitting purring on Anne’s lap. She had put her arms round him and he had his front paws on her shoulder and was rubbing his head against her cheek. After a while he turned round and started to wash his paws. Anne was no longer crying. She sat quietly,watching Boxer. Matron picked up her neglected cup. “Here, Anne, finish this up before it gets cold,” she said. “Are you feeling a bit better now? Would you like to tell me about your dream?”

Author:	PaulineS [ Wed Oct 29, 2008 9:16 pm ]
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Poor Anne, the excitement has certainly upset her. Glad Matey changes out of uniform sometimes and that she gave them cocoa rather than plain hot milk. Good to see more of this.

Author:	di [ Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:29 am ]
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Great to see another drabble. I can't imagine Matey in anything but her white nurses' uniform, she must appear almost nearly normal. Hope Anne is able to tell about her nightmare. I wonder did children have more nightmares during the war periods than they do now or are their worries just different? Hmmm. Thanks DuncanD

Author:	leahbelle [ Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:00 pm ]
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Poor Anne. I hope she can talk about the dream.

Author:	keren [ Sun Nov 02, 2008 11:09 am ]
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good to see this back this is such a beautiful scene

Author:	Mrs Redboots [ Sun Nov 02, 2008 3:48 pm ]
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Delighted to see this back! I do hope Anne can talk about her nightmare.

Author:	catlover [ Tue Nov 18, 2008 12:31 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 29/10/08
the title intrigued me so i went lookign for the first part and have finally read it all. Im really enjoying this so thank you both dorian for starting it and duncan for continuing it. looking forward to the next part now. (and its made me homesick, westmeath was always more home to me than belfast)

Author:	DuncanD [ Tue Jan 20, 2009 1:33 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 29/10/08
Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. I thought I would write lots over Christmas, but had an idle, relaxing time instead. Anne swallowed the last of the cocoa. “It was horrid,” she said, shivering a little. “I was in the underground passage with Janet and Daisy and Beth, and I was frightened. And then when we got to the icehouse, there was someone lying there, but it wasn’t that man we saw this afternoon – it was Daddy. And he was groaning. And I wanted to go over to him, but I found I wasn’t with Janet and Daisy at all – I was with some girls from my last school, and they wouldn’t let me. I wanted to help him, but they wouldn’t let me. They said he was a spy – and a traitor – and he deserved to rot! And then he looked at me and said, ‘I thought you would help me, at least, Anne’ – and – and – “ Anne groped for her handkerchief again. “And then I woke up … Oh Matron, I can’t get it out of my head, Daddy lying there – and saying that – and not being able to do anything – Oh, do you think the dream was sent – sent to tell me what’s happened to him and where to find him?” Matron thought instantly of Gertrud Becker, a German girl who had been planted in the school as a spy the previous year. She had been unable to find the information the Nazis wanted, but on hearing that her mother had disappeared, she had tried to get back to Germany to find her. It was purely by good luck that she had been picked up by a British ship when the fishing boat on which she was travelling was torpedoed … Matron took a deep breath. “No, dear, I don’t think so,” she replied in considering tones. “That isn’t how dreams work. When you’re asleep, your brain goes over all the things that happened to you during the day, seeing which things are important, and how they fit in with other things that happened before. It’s helping you to make sense of the world. And you remember some of this process as dreams. Now, you’ve been worried about your father for several months, and then you had a – an unusual – experience this afternoon. Your brain put the two things together – in fact, it would have been strange if you hadn’t had some kind of dream like that.” “Oh... I suppose so,” said Anne with a sigh. “But it’s so awful - waiting – and not knowing …” “Your father was posted missing after Dunkirk, was he?” “Yes.” “Just ‘missing’? Not ‘missing, presumed killed’?” “Just missing.” “Well, in that case, you still have reason to hope. Don’t forget, a soldier is almost never alone. After the evacuation from Dunkirk, the army would have checked very carefully to see who had come back and they would have asked about anyone who wasn’t accounted for. If he’d been killed, someone would have seen. But if he was taken prisoner, it would take some time for news to get back. Or he may even have escaped capture, and then of course he wouldn’t be able to communicate with home at all.” Janet broke in impulsively, “I do think your father was awfully brave, joining our army like that. He wasn’t conscripted like most people, he didn’t have to, but he went to fight for freedom. I think that’s wonderful!” “Yes, you’re right, Janet. And I’ll tell you who else is brave – Anne’s mother. It must have taken a lot of courage to accept that her husband was going away to fight someone else’s battle, even though she agreed with his reasons for doing so.” “It’s not someone else’s battle,” cried Anne. “Daddy says we didn’t fight for freedom from the English just to get taken over by Hitler, so it’s our battle too. Some people think that anyone who’s against England must be Ireland’s friend, but they’re wrong. Germany doesn’t care about us – only about what they could take from us.” “I think you’re right about that,” said Matron. “I was with the School in Tyrol at the time of the Anschluss, and we saw something of Hitler’s methods then. We tried to carry on, but the school had to leave after a few months. Even at that, some of the girls had to escape over the mountains into Switzerland with Miss Wilson and two of the doctors from the San. – No,” she added, seeing Janet was about to ask what had happened, “I’m not going to tell you the story now. Have you any idea of the time? You should both be in bed, and indeed so should I. You’d better stay in the San for tonight. I’ll fill a couple of hot bottles for you.” A few minutes later, she had the two girls tucked up comfortably with hot-water bottles. As she was about to leave them, she said, “Just remember this, Anne. Wherever you father is, God will look after him, as He looks after all of us. And He will give you strength to face whatever may come, if you ask Him for it. Now, go to sleep, both of you, and I’ll see you in the morning. If you find you can’t sleep, or if you have any more nightmares, just call me – I’m only across the passage. Goodnight.” She left, to seek her own bed, and soon all three were slumbering, exhausted by the day’s events. Some time later, Matron noticed that there seemed to be something heavy on her feet, but she was too tired to bother finding out what it was. So Boxer got a good night’s sleep on her bed, a place strictly forbidden to all cats.

Author:	Emma A [ Tue Jan 20, 2009 1:44 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Poor Anne - and good for her and her family - it wasn't their fight, officially. Let's hope some news comes soon. I also like to see Matron's kinder side here, not solely the domestic tyrant whom no-one can face down. Thanks, DuncanD - this is a really good "what-if".

Author:	PaulineS [ Tue Jan 20, 2009 2:59 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Thanks DuncanD it is good to see more of this and to learn why Anne was an outsider at her previous school.

Author:	di [ Tue Jan 20, 2009 6:08 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Great to see this again. Poor Anne, worrying so much about her father and being unable to do anything to help. Glad Matey was there to ease her fears and tease them both with just a snippet of the story of the escape from Austria. I do hope they get to hear that story. It remains one of my favourite of the Chalet books. Thanks, DuncanD

Author:	Cath V-P [ Thu Jan 22, 2009 12:59 am ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
That was a lovely update. Matey handled Anne beautifully - it's nice to see something of her more compassionate side, and her pov on events. And trust Boxer to take advantage.....

Author:	leahbelle [ Thu Jan 22, 2009 1:08 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Poor Anne. I'm glad Matey was there to show her some compassion.

Author:	Fiona Mc [ Sat Jan 24, 2009 6:57 am ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Thanks, Matey was so nice and sympathetic

Author:	Kathy_S [ Sat Jan 24, 2009 3:44 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Thank you, Duncan D. Lovely scene with Matey.

Author:	mariep [ Tue Dec 01, 2009 11:23 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Just joined the CBB today and have read The Chalet School in Ireland but unfortunately cannot find any update past 20/01/09 . Is there anymore of this story? I've really enjoyed it so far and am desperate to find out what happens next.

Author:	Alison H [ Tue Dec 01, 2009 11:48 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Welcome to the CBB, Marie . That was the last update so far.

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Dec 02, 2009 1:49 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Sorry, I sort of ran out of steam writing this. I have a bit more done and will try to post it a day or two (got choir practice tonight). It's really lovely to hear that someone wants to read more. Marie, I hope you read Part 1 (by Dorian) as well. I think she captured EBD's style better than I can.

Author:	DuncanD [ Wed Dec 02, 2009 5:33 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 20/1/09
Here's a small bit - it's rather waffly, but if I post it now, it may encourage me to do some more! A letter from Joey: “Liscara”, Church Road, Malahide Monday Dearest Madge, I was so glad to get your letter, which arrived on Thursday. I’d been feeling a bit down; once all the excitement wore off, I was left with my three babies and a sore face, and I really missed you. I missed Jack too, of course, but I know he’s away doing his duty fighting the evil of Nazism – and anyway a husband is not the same as a sister. It was nice to hear your voice on the ‘phone on Sunday, but you can’t really talk properly on the telephone when you’re thinking of the time and the cost. You were very extravagant to talk for a second three minutes! I was sorry to hear that Jem’s purchase of the house in Co. Wicklow has fallen through, but perhaps it’s for the best if the building needed so much doing to it. He may have better luck in Wales. Of course, re-starting the San in Wales would mean you would be rather far away from the school. We’ll all be a bit lonely here without you. Still, you can come and stay with me whenever you like, and I hope that will be soon. You’ll be coming for the Christmas concert, at least. After the above protestations, you’ll be wondering why I took so long to answer your letter. You probably won’t believe that I’ve been caught up in a positive social whirl! I had put the babies down for their nap after lunch on Thursday, and was just about to settle down at my writing-table, when the doorbell rang. The visitors turned out to be Mrs. Barrett, the chemist’s wife from two doors up, and Mrs Rose, the Doctor’s wife. They are sisters, both very petite and pretty. They apologised for not having called on me earlier: they explained that the ceremony of “leaving cards” still exists here in some circles, and they weren’t sure whether I hadn’t left cards because I didn’t want to know them, or because I thought the whole idea terribly old-fashioned. Since I don’t go to St. Andrew’s Church, and am kept pretty busy with the triplets, they hadn’t found opportunities to fall into casual conversation with me. They turned out to be very pleasant, and we’re now on first-name terms; they are Margaret (Mrs. Barrett) and Muriel. They both have young children (though not so young as the triplets) who go to the school attached to St. Andrew’s. They say it’s a very good school; there are two teachers, one for the infants and one for the older children; and the children are well prepared to go on to secondary school. They say that when they were young, no-one of their standing would have dreamt of sending their children there, which shows how much society has changed in the interim. They went to a school in Sutton (about 5 miles away on the way to Howth), driving there in a pony and trap! Muriel did the driving; I gathered that Margaret doesn’t much like horses. When the babies woke up, I brought them down, and they were much admired. Margaret has twin girls aged eight, and a boy fifteen months older. She was very sympathetic about the problems of managing three small children at once. She said that the worst period was when the twins were between one and two, but after that things improved. Something to look forward to! On Thursday evening Bill and Hilda dropped in for an hour, and invited me to a guided tour of the castle, of which more later. On Friday, Dr. Rose called and removed my stitches, and assured me that the cut was healing up nicely. I just have a small neat plaster on the wound now – not the huge white dressing that made Margot scream when she first saw it! I spent Friday evening at the Dennys’. They’re living in a flat in James’s terrace – that terrace of Georgian houses near the boat landing. It has come down in the world rather, since the glory days of Malahide as an elegant watering place, but the flat, consisting of the basement and ground floor of the house, is very pleasant. Mr. Denny has his piano in what was the back drawing-room, and they live mainly in the front one; there are folding doors between them. Mr. Denny has become friendly with the organist in St. Andrew’s, Mr. Reynolds, and he was there too. He is very interested in “early” music (though I’m not too sure what he means by that.) We had an evening of madrigals, Mr. Reynolds singing bass. It was great fun: we sang “Say , love, if ever thou didst find” and “Come again, sweet love doth now invite” and “Il bianco e dolce cigno”. Afterwards Mr. Denny said, “You know, Jo, you should really do some work on your sight reading,” and I suppose I did need rather a lot of help. I said I would like to, but sight reading isn’t something you can practise like scales, and Mr. Reynolds said “The only way to practise is to do it. We’ll have to meet to sing regularly – you’ll invite us, won’t you, Denny?” and we’re going to do it again next week.

Author:	shazwales [ Wed Dec 02, 2009 6:51 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Thanks.this is really good.

Author:	PaulineS [ Wed Dec 02, 2009 8:05 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Good to see more of this. I like it that Joey needs to practice sight reading music.

Author:	di [ Thu Dec 03, 2009 6:27 am ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Lovely to see this again. I liked the thought of Jo putting the triplets down for a rest - I thought she'd always got 'help' with them so to think about her doing things for them herself is unusual! Looking forward to more, DuncanD.

Author:	mariep [ Fri Dec 04, 2009 9:47 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Thanks for that update. I have read part one also and enjoyed both parts equally. Keep the drabble coming.

Author:	shesings [ Fri Dec 04, 2009 11:40 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Delighted to see this update! Thank you, DuncanD and happy singing!

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu Jan 28, 2010 1:09 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 2/12/09
Tuesday. This has turned into a bit of an epic! Now, where was I …? On Saturday afternoon, I left Anna in charge of the babes and went up to the castle for the guided tour. I didn’t quite know what to expect: Hilda told me that giving the girls a tour of the castle was Mary Burnett’s idea, but that the tour itself had been planned out by one of the maids, who trained Mary and Nora Sullivan as “tour guides”. The maid, Mary Heffernan, has worked at the castle for ten years or more, and what she doesn’t know about it isn’t worth knowing! I was lucky enough to join a group which she led and I must say she made the whole history of the castle absolutely fascinating. But in the course of the tour, Betty Wynne-Davies and Elizabeth had a an actual stand-up row – about William III of all things! We were in the Great Hall, and Mary had been telling us about the Battle of the Boyne, which is very important to everyone in Ireland, especially in the North. She said that 15 members of the Talbot family sat down to breakfast together on the morning of the battle, but not one of them survived – they were on the losing side. “Just as well,” said Betty, “we’d have had the Catholic Church and the Inquisition in England! I don’t know how they could be on James’s side!” “They were Irish – remember?” said Elizabeth, “Of course they’d want a king who shared their religion” – and in a minute the two of them were shouting at one another. I have to admit they were both quite knowledgeable about the period, though Betty is very prejudiced. I was about to intervene, but it turned out there was no need – Mary, as soon as she could get a word in edgewise, said, “Wait now, girls, till I tell you what happened after the battle. King James rode off to Dublin, where he met Lady Tyrconnell, who was the wife of the Lord Deputy. And do you know what he said to her? ‘Your countrymen, madam, can run well.’ Well, she gave him a Look” – here, Mary gave us a look, the sort that Matey gives you when she finds your drawers in a mess – “and she said ‘Not quite so well as Your Majesty, for I see that you have won the race!’” That put an end to the quarrel; we were all laughing too much. But I wonder if those two are growing apart? As I was about to leave the castle, Matey cornered me and informed me that I would like to invite Daisy and her three friends to tea the following afternoon! These were the girls who found my German spy and Matey thought they needed a chance to talk over the whole experience away from the school. They had been discouraged from talking about it at school, because no-one wants an outbreak of spy fever among the middles. So I invited them; they’re a nice crowd, and it was a week two since I had seen Daisy (apart from last Saturday’s adventure). Of course they wanted to know what was going to happen to “their” spy. I couldn’t tell them much, only what Inspector O’Hanrahan had told me. It seems that Bernhardt refused to say anything, just gave his name, rank and number. That, of course, was tantamount to an admission that he is a German soldier on active service, so he will be interned for the duration. As for his friend from the Embassy, he will be dealt with by the Department of External Affairs. The Inspector said he thought it unlikely that he would be declared “persona non grata”, because that might cause an “incident”. “I’ll be happy enough if he stays here where I can keep an eye on him,” he said.. “You can keep your eyes open, too, at these soirees you attend,” he added. “It was a great bit of luck for us that you speak so many languages. How about getting to know some of the Italian diplomats next?” (I think this was a joke.) Oh – I nearly forgot! Matey was asking me if Jem or might have any contacts who would know how to go about finding out any information about someone who was posted “missing” after Dunkirk. It seems that this happened to the father of Anne Ormond, whom I think I mentioned when I talked to you – she was one of the group who caught the spy. It seems she’s been trying to carry on normally, but the spy incident shook her up somehow and she’s been having nightmares and weepy fits since. Is there any way we could find out more, do you think? Her father is Captain Michael Ormond and his regiment was the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers. I’ve been racking my brains to think of anyone we know who moves in the higher circles of the War Office or has any connection with the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, but I can’t think of anyone. Can you? Now I really must close! I’ve spent far too long maundering on! Lots of love to Jem and the children, and lots more to yourself. Joey p.s. When are you coming to visit us?

Author:	Llywela [ Fri Jan 29, 2010 1:11 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
I've just worked my way through this entire saga, both parts, and think it's great - I'm glad to see new snippets being added to it, after quite a hiatus. Isn't writer's block the pits?

Author:	di [ Fri Jan 29, 2010 5:37 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
Great to see this again. I seemed to have missed the last one as well so have just had a pleasant catch-up! Poor Anne, she must be so worried about her dad. I hope Jem can find out some information, he's usually quite good at finding out about these things. Thanks, DuncanD, this is great.

Author:	Jools [ Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:09 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
This is fantastic - please can we have some more

Author:	roversgirl [ Wed Oct 06, 2010 5:51 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
Good to see this back; thanks!

Author:	DuncanD [ Thu May 05, 2011 9:01 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: The Chalet School in Ireland - 2nd part - updated 28/1/10
I'm sorry, this isn't an update, but I saw in interesting report in the Irish Times property supplement today, about a spy in Ireland in 1940: http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/property/2011/0505/1224296137093.html I do think about this drabble and have written a little bit more; but it's not ready to be posted yet and I'm about to go to Wales for the weekend. Will try to get it finished - some day!

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