Francie To the Fore - Complete
The CBB -> St Agnes's House
#1: Francie To the Fore - Complete Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sun Jun 12, 2005 8:31 pm

This starts out as a rewrite/repost of my original Francie story. It's tidied up, it's spellchecked (and thank you everyone for NOT giggling at every single time I had snaped instead of snapped...), it's coherent...and there'll be brandnew stuff up by the end of the week. Promise ;)

Chapter 1

They had only just come back after the summer holidays. Miss Annersley had given her welcome back speech, and she had just dismissed the rest of the school for the ten minutes there were prior to Abendessen. Francie moved to follow on, keen to have a wash and a brush up and a chance to catch up with the people she hadn't seen over the summer, like Len, Con and Margot, except that Miss Annersley stopped her. And for a good minute, Francie found herself reverting to conscience searching for whatever misdeed it was that had caused the Head to need to speak to her this time.

It was only when she realised that Miss Annersley was smiling, something that had definitely never happened before, that she realised she wasn't alone. Looking round at the company she was now in, Francie realised evil doings couldn't possibly the reason they'd been detained. While she might have been an utter pest as a junior and middle, Len Maynard hadn't been and Ros Lilley, who had joined the school in the top year of the middle school, certainly hadn't.

That realisation made Francie feel a little better at least, but it didn't make any difference to her sense of confusion. Len and Ros were in VIB; they had to be, based on the summer exams. The rest of the detainees were also in one or other of the sixths, and, had Francie not been with them, she would have guessed that this group were to be this year's prefects.

But that couldn't be the reason they'd been detained. Or, if it was the reason, why on earth was Francie with them? Her exam results the previous summer had been nothing short of surprising, true (and if they'd startled her, who knew what sort of shock she'd inflicted on the staff!), but even so, she was destined to be in VA this year.

"Francie, are you all right, my dear?"

Francie blinked at the kindly concerned words from the Head Mistress and realised, to her surprise, the whole party had reached Miss Annersley's study and everyone was now staring at her as if she might just have grown a second head.

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Francie murmured, "Yes Miss Annersley; I beg your pardon."

Miss Annersley smiled and something about the expression told Francie that the Head had more than an inkling of Francie's train of thought. Francie's blush deepened at that idea.

"As you may have guessed," Miss Annersley continued, turning to the gathering as a whole, "you are to be this years' prefects..."

The Head said more, but Francie didn't take it in. Couldn't take it in. How could she possibly be a prefect? There had to be some kind of mistake. Some kind of joke, perhaps, except she couldn't imagine Miss Annersley being that cruel. Through the her mental turmoil she barely heard Maeve Bettany being named as this year's head girl; she barely even heard her own name being mentioned as one of the three sub-prefects (the other two being Len and Ros).

"Frances."

It took Miss Annersley's use of her full Christian name to rouse Francie this time. A glance around told her that now she was in the study on her own. At least this was familiar; and yet it wasn't, because where the Head should have been glowering or looking stern, the only expression was one of concern.

"Francie, is everything all right?" Miss Annersley asked.

And so startled and stunned by the meeting so far, Francie could only answer, "I don't know!"

Miss Annersley nodded. "I expect you're wondering about your appointment," she guessed.

Francie nodded. "How can I be a prefect?" she asked. "I was a horror as a middle. I was sulky and rude and an utter pest and I'm sure I'm not a good example."

Miss Annersley gave her a kindly look. "Yes," she agreed, "you were. But, if you look through the school records, you will see plenty of people who were less than perfect as middles who have made excellent prefects, and part of that is because they understand naughty middles far better in light of their own misdeeds. They know the tricks because they used to use them. You see?" Francie nodded. "As for a good example," the Head continued, "I would have said you were an excellent example."

Francie couldn't help but stare at her Head Mistress. "Me?" she squeaked, forgetting any form of politeness.

"You," said Miss Annersley firmly. As Francie continued to stare in growing astonishment, the Head continued, "Perhaps you don't realise it yet, but you have turned a corner in your life. Yes, you were naughty, but in the last couple of years, you have grown from that. Even permitting that rather silly spat you and Ruey Richardson had at the being of last year," at which reminder, Francie blushed deeply once more, "you have become one of our steadiest seniors and in this last year, your work has far outstripped any expectations you may have held." The implication here was that if Francie had surprised herself, she hadn't surprised Miss Annersley on that count. "You are," Miss Annersley concluded impressively, "an excellent example."

"B--b--but I'm only in VA!" Francie stammered.

To Francie's general surprise, Miss Annersley frowned. "You didn't receive a letter from the school during the summer holidays?" the Head Mistress asked.

Dumbly, Francie shook her head.

Miss Annersley's expression modulated into a look of sympathy. "Small wonder, then, that you've been so confused." Francie's eyes widened. "I'm terribly sorry; you should have had a letter from the school over the holidays. Thanks to your hard work in the last two years, you are comfortably above the level of VA in virtually all areas. Rather than have you spend a year almost doing nothing, we have decided that you should have a double remove: You are now a member of VIB."

That was too much for Francie. Her knees buckled and she found herself sitting, somewhat inelegantly, on the floor of the Head's study. 'Perhaps,' she thought, 'I'm just asleep on the train and dreaming this, for it can't possibly be real.' And the fact that she realised Miss Annersley was now standing over her, looking down, still sympathetic, and enquiring if she was all right just served to make it seem even more surreal.

Gradually, though, it seeped through Francie's mind that no, she wasn't asleep, and yes, she really was in the Head's study. 'Which must mean that everything Miss Annersley has just said to me is true.' At which realisation, Francie found herself blushing yet again, particularly as she found herself being helped into a seat by none other than the Head.

"I'm sorry this has been such a shock," Miss Annersley began, once she was sure that Francie was safely seated. "We tried to send letters to you and the other people with double removes so as to avoid this."

Now that the first shock had worn off and the truth had begun to sink in, Francie found herself starting to giggle. "I expect mine ended up in the duck pond at home," she managed to state between giggles.

Miss Annersley said nothing, and said it eloquently, merely gave Francie a look.

Francie did her best to stop giggling, but it was a struggle. She finally succeeded and condescended to explain, "We had a new postie half way through the summer hols. Bessie, our dog, didn't take too kindly to him and she bullied him into the duck pond at least twice."

Amusement crossed Miss Annersley's face. "Oh dear," she said. "Yes, I can see that being a very bad thing for the mail delivery."

"Bessie's not allowed out of the yard now," Francie added, smiling in memory.

"I should imagine not," Miss Annersley agreed. She gave Francie a keen look. "So, now you know where you stand for this year ahead."

"Miss Annersley..." Francie hesitated, her smile fading. "Why have you selected me?" The Head gave her a measured look. "I...I mean, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or cheeky," she continued, her nervousness returning, "but aren't there others who'd be better?"

"Such as whom?" Miss Annersley asked, no note of censure in her voice.

"Well...there's Con Maynard."

"Con is still quite a shy person. She hasn't got the force of personality for prefectship, yet." Miss Annersley's eyes twinkled at that. "I dare say she will have it, but for now, she is better off without the responsibility and she is to be a dormitory prefect this year."

"Or...there's Priscilla and Primrose...they should know what middles get up to!"

Miss Annersley nodded. "They certainly should, and perhaps but for the influx from St Hilda's, they might have been prefects." She leaned forwards in her seat. "But," she continued, "with a straight choice between them and you, we chose you."

"But why, Miss Annersley?" Francie asked. "I really don't mean to sound ungrateful. I just..." She trailed off unsure quite how to voice her confusion.

"Don't you want the job?" Miss Annersley asked, still only kindly concern present in her voice.

"I don't know," Francie admitted frankly. "I never expected it. It's a fearful honour, of course, and I think---I think I would like to do it."

The Head nodded. "The is one very good reason you were chosen, in particular over Primrose, Priscilla and Margot, who, I may add, has also been granted a double remove."

At that, Francie nodded. Considering that Margot's exam results had been even more spectacular than her own, that stood to reason.

"That reason is, we feel that you have an extra dose of maturity," Miss Annersley continued. "You have confronted, and beaten, personal demons, which is something that takes a certain courage."

Francie had never considered the events of a year ago in that sort of light, but now Miss Annersley had made the suggestion she found herself thinking over what had gone on. There had been the conversation in the gym with Ruey, when she had finally laid the feud to rest. There had been several conversations with members of staff, starting with Miss Ferrars, a woman with whom Francie had, until that point, had a series of running battles. Then, during the Christmas holidays, there had been a long and difficult conversation with her step-parents. Each one had required her to overcome a mixture of pride and jealousy to make those much-needed apologies, and she vividly remembered the nervous, butterfly-feeling she'd suffered from before each one. Yes, she had been scared. Maybe it had taken courage after all.

"We believe," Miss Annersley said, gently breaking across Francie's thoughts, "that you can do an excellent job as a prefect."

Shakily, Francie smiled. "I'll do my best, Miss Annersley."

"That is all we ask," Miss Annersley replied.

"And thank you."

In fairly short order, Francie found herself hurrying towards the Splasheries to wash and get ready for Abendessen, knowing the gong for that meal would be going any moment. Even last year, she hadn't bothered too much if she was a shade late for meals; sometimes it really couldn't be helped, but today she was conscious of being punctual. After all, it wasn't done for the prefects to set a bad example.

Last edited by Ray on Fri Oct 21, 2005 11:12 pm; edited 1 time in total

 

#2:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Jun 12, 2005 8:44 pm

Thanks Ray - glad to see this back - and looking forward to the new stuff

Liz

 

#3:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 12:04 am

So pleased to see this back

and really really really looking forward to new stuff


thanks Ray

 

#4:  Author: Caroline OSullivan, Location: Reading, Berkshire, UK PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 6:50 am

Yay! Francie is back. Thanks Ray Very Happy Looking forward to the new bits

 

#5:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 7:43 am

Hurrah - very glad this is back Very Happy

 

#6:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 9:37 am

Yay! Glad to see this back Ray, thank you!

 

#7:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 11:45 am

Im very glad this is back, thanks Ray Very Happy

 

#8:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 12:04 pm

Thank you Smile I'm glad to have this back on track at long last. My aim would be to post a chapter a day until I've posted all the rewrites, so with that in mind, here's today's installment

Chapter 2

Four weeks into the term and Francie was more or less reconciled to life as a prefect. Most of her duties were straight forward: Supervising the juniors and middles on walks, rambles and at break was relatively easy, while she found herself landed with the sub-librarian's job, which was, as she admitted to Len, not as bad as it might have been. Unfortunately, there was one thing that she dreaded, and that was prep duty.

So far, she had taken four prep sessions, all with Upper IV, many of whom had decided that baby tricks and kiddish behaviour were things of the past. As that was her regular duty, she thought she might be able to manage that. The trouble was, her normal night for prep duty was Tuesday. Today was Wednesday and the form room she was heading towards belonged not to Upper IV but to Lower IV.

Up until five minutes earlier, she had been sitting in the library, working on a sticky essay for English. But then in had walked a shy looking junior middle, who had said, "Please, Miss Annersley says will you come and take our prep?"

Francie had given the girl a look, debating whether or not she was telling the truth. She knew the child, Arda Peke, was one of Jack Lambert's crew, and as such was probably one of the more sinful members of Lower IV. On the other hand, even the most injudicious junior middle didn't bring the Head's name into things on a whim, which left Francie with no alternative but to say, "All right." Then pack her things together and follow Arda out of the library.

The Dutch girl now led her into the Lower IV form room, where Miss Annersley was, apparently, holding court, to judge by the bevy of junior middles gathered around her.

"Yes, Jack," she was saying, "Len will be fine."

'Whatever has happened to Len?' Francie wondered, but before she could so much as open her mouth to announce her own presence, the Head saw her.

"Ah, good. Francie; would you mind over-seeing prep for Lower IV tonight? I know that it should be Len's duty, but she had something of an unfortunate accident and is currently in the san."

Francie's first reaction to the Head's question was "Yes, I do mind!", but the reflex of never saying no to the Head Mistress cut off that reaction before she gave voice to it. She also knew that, roles reversed, Len would almost agree, whatever her own personal feelings were. So she mustered a smile. "No, of course."

Miss Annersley gave her a smile in response. "Thank you." Then she was gone, just as the bell to officially begin prep rang and Francie found herself in charge of some of the naughtiest girls in the school.

There was a long moment of silence, then Francie was recalled to the reason for her presence and suddenly became mindful of the fact that there was still a cluster of junior middles at the front of the room.

"The bell for prep has rung," she pointed out. "I'm sure you don't want to have to make up prep time after Abendessen."

That reminder was enough for most people, who promptly scuttled into their seats and started working. A couple, who had obviously been late comers to the Head's announcement had to dive for their book lockers to collect their work for the evening. Only Jack remained.

"Jack?" Francie enquired as she set her own work down on the Mistress' table. "You have prep to do," she said gently.

"Len will be OK?" Jack asked, staring firmly at the floor and scuffing her toe in a sheepish sort of gesture.

Having heard Miss Annersley's reply to this question, Francie felt safe in saying, "Yes, she'll be fine." Jack still looked hangdog, which promptly roused Francie's suspicions. "Jack?"

Francie had heard, from Len, how startling some of Jack's methods could be at times but she'd considered that Len had to be exaggerating a little bit. She now discovered that, if anything, Len had understated Jack's penchant for simply blurting out the truth.

"It's all my fault!" Jack said. "I'd dropped my toothpaste in the dormy and Len didn't see it and she stood on it and she fell and it's my fault!"

Francie gaped as her self-possession and wits were momentarily banished by this unconventional confession.

Jack was continuing, apparently oblivious to the effect she was having: "Now she's in the san and she's hurt and she probably hates me and---"

"And that's quite enough," Francie cut in sharply, recognising that Jack was beginning to work herself up into a nice state of hysterics. "I very much doubt that Len hates you, Jack. It was an accident, from the sounds of things; unless you intended to have someone stand on your toothpaste?" she finished with such a polite note of interrogation that Jack's head snapped up, outraged at the bare suggestion. Francie smiled. "I didn't think so." Jack looked mollified. "So it's an accident; right? Len knows that, and though I don't suppose she's all that impressed," Jack looked embarrassed again, "I know she won't hate you for it." Jack regarded her toes and said nothing. "After prep," Francie continued, I'll see if it would be all right for you to go up and visit her."

"Would you?" Jack sounded so startled by the suggestion that Francie wasn't sure whether to feel amused or insulted. "That would be smash--er--great!"

"There is a condition, mind," Francie warned, biting back a chuckle at Jack's narrow avoidance of slang. Jack looked up, silent question clearly written on her face. "That you get on now and hoe in on your prep -- you've lost nearly ten minutes of your time tonight."

Jack made a noise somewhat akin to a startled mouse and promptly scurried to her desk and got down to work.

With everyone finally settled, Francie herself took a seat and hoped that would be the last excitement as far as this prep session went.

Unfortunately, if she thought having Jack firmly taped for the evening was going to make her life straightforward, Francie was sadly mistaken. While Jack was a leader in Lower IV, she wasn't the only leader and nor was she the only girl with a talent for the outrageous.

Roughly five minutes after finally settling Jack, Francie became aware of a rhythmic tapping noise, but, even as she looked up, the tapping stopped. A quick glance around the room revealed no obvious culprit and no guilty looking parties. With a frown, she bent her head back over the essay. It was probably someone accidentally tapping pen or pencil against their desk in an involuntary fashion; irritating, to be sure, but not something worthy of getting them in trouble. Except that the tapping started again almost the second Francie's gaze left the class.

Her frown deepened. Someone was up to monkey tricks, she was positive. And she was even more convinced when the tapping ceased the moment she looked up. Gazing round the form, she tried to detect the culprit. Unfortunately, all she could see was a collection of busily writing middles. Everyone, it appeared, was hard at work.

Lowering her eyes back to the essay, Francie gave her mind over to the problem of how to determine who it was that was playing up. Again came the tapping. She listened to it, ostensibly frowning over her essay. There was something familiar about it, as if she ought to know what it meant. For some reason, her thoughts kept straying to her first term at the school; something she'd seen some of the then seniors demonstrate in Guides. But what?

And then it hit her as she finally recognised the string of taps as dot-dot-dash-dash-dot-dot. SOS. Morse Code. Someone was asking for help with her prep from one of her friends. In Morse Code.

Francie felt a surge of anger. This was just not done. Head snapping up, eyes blazing, she said coldly, "Put your pens down, please."

There was a clatter as Lower IV set their pens on their desks and attempted to look angelic. It didn't fool Francie for one second.

She regarded them coolly. "I would like to know," she began, "which of you has been communicating by Morse Code."

Silence!

Not one single middle twitched at the request.

Francie let her gaze rove around the room, trying to see who might have been at fault. Her questing gaze first fell on Jack, but that young lady had two reputations within the school, and while wickedness might be one, the other was for being flat out honest and truthful. So when Francie saw Jack's outraged expression, she felt sure Jack was not involved. Nor, if she was any judge, were any of Jack's immediate friends. Wanda von Eschenau looked equally outraged; Renata van Buren looked scandalised; Arda Peke looked shocked.

Unfortunately, the next group of people her gaze fell on were all from St Hilda's, and here she was not so sure she could trust their expressions. Gillie Garstan, she knew, was an imp of the first water (her eldest sister had said as much, and more!) and she tended to lead her crew by the nose in the same way Jack did. Were they the guilty party? Or was it someone else?

And still no-one had moved to answer her.

"I'm waiting," Francie stated. "Who was it?"

Several of the more nervy middles flinched. Up until this point, most of the middles had been of the opinion that Francie was a very easy going prefect and this icy anger was a shock.

"Pupuplease---" One of the St Hilda's girls scrambled to her feet, blushing profusely and looking very woebegone. "I didn't mean to!"

"You didn't mean to?" Francie echoed. "Explain yourself, please."

"I---I was just tapping my pen," she said, nervously. "I was stuck on my 'rithmatic and---and---I didn't think." Now blushing to the tips of her ears, the child's head dropped. "I didn't mean to."

Francie was in a quandary. From the attitude and embarrassment of the girl standing before her, she truly hadn't intended any wrongdoing. On the other hand, she had, very openly, been tapping the international code for help.

"What is your name?" Francie asked, a little of the ice leaving her voice.

"Kitty. Kitty Anderson," the child answered.

"All right. Kitty, bring your arithmetic out here; the rest of you," and Francie looked around the room balefully, "please carry on with your work."

Every head, barring Kitty's, bent towards its owner's work. None of Lower IV wanted to bring Francie's wrath down on them. Meanwhile Kitty, with lagging footsteps, made her way up to the Mistress' desk.

"Please," she said softly, "I really didn't mean it."

With a recollection of one of Miss Annersley's mantras, Francie offered the middle a reassuring smile. "I know that you're new and this is probably different to St Hilda's," she began gently, "so a tip for next time: If you are stuck, raise your hand or come out to the prefect on duty and ask for help. Tapping 'SOS', even accidentally, is liable to land you in trouble." Kitty looked as if she very much wanted a hole to crawl into. "Now," Francie continued, "what's the problem with your arithmetic?"

That turned out to be a series of tricky vulgar fractions, and after explaining what needed to be done with them and another rejoinder not to tap her pen in future, Kitty was sent back to her seat to continue her prep.

Heaving a sigh, Francie turned her own attention back to her essay, more in hope than expectation. She remembered prep sessions like this from her own time as a middle and then as a young senior in Inter V. Once the interruptions started, they'd probably keep on coming. And so they did. Rubbers or pens were dropped; piles books were knocked over; chairs were scraped as people moved; paper was accidentally torn. They were minor incidental noises, which, in the normal course of events, were nothing of note. Tonight, though, they served to highlight how unsettled prep was.

Having suffered through Prudence Dawbarn's better efforts most of the previous year, Francie was at least able to give her essay some concentration despite the interruptions. As a result, she had managed quite a good start on it when the crowning glory of the prep session began to unfold and all thoughts of work were forced from her mind.

The first she knew of the happenings was a loud shriek, which, in turn, set the rest of the form to startled cries. Francie looked up fully expecting to see someone maimed, at the very least. What she actually saw left her completely bereft of breath.

Margaret Twiss was sitting, rigid at her desk, staring fixedly at a spot some two feet in front of her desk, whimpering.

"What on earth?" Francie began.

"I saw it!" stammered the obviously petrified Margaret. "It was there."

At this startling statement, Francie hurriedly stood up and headed towards the terrified girl, who was now visibly trembling. "Margaret, what is it?" she asked.

"A hand!" Margaret stammered. "A bloody hand!" And before Francie could react to that remarkable comment, Margaret fainted.

 

#9:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 12:11 pm

The bloody hand!!! Oooo! Thank you Ray!

 

#10:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 12:12 pm

Thanks Ray

A very EBD-ish prep! Very Happy

Liz

 

#11:  Author: *Aletea*, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 2:18 pm

Oh marvellous! I'm looking forward to getting to know this again, and very much looking forward to the new chapters! Hurray!

 

#12:  Author: Kate, Location: Ireland PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 2:41 pm

Oh miraculous! Smile And lovely loooong posts too.

Thank you, Ray!

 

#13:  Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 8:21 pm

Thank you Ray! I am really looking forward to your daily chapter! Very Happy

 

#14:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2005 8:51 pm

wondeful to see this back, Ray

I'll have lots of lovely long posts to read whenever I come online!

 

#15:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 8:54 am

These are lovely long posts! Thanks Ray, I like Francie in this

 

#16:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 11:39 am

Here's today's installment. Very glad you're enjoying it Smile

Chapter 3

Francie was momentarily stunned. Then she dived forwards, catching Margaret as girl toppled from her seat. But even as she did that, she was aware that the rest of Lower IV were gathered around like a gaggle of so many geese. They couldn't stay like that, but nor would they be able to settle back to working after an excitement like this. Mindful, too, of the fact that prep had a little less than fifteen minutes remaining, she decided what needed to be done.

"Renata, please stay with me; Jack, please go to Matron and ask her to come here." Jack needed no further bidding and vanished rapidly. Francie continued, "the rest of you, please go to your common room." She paused and looked up. "Who is form prefect this term?"

"Me, please, Francie," said Barbara Hewlett.

"All right, you're in charge until someone comes to you."

"Please," said Renata as the rest of the form quietly filed out, too stunned to do anything else, "is Margaret all right?"

"I expect she will be," said a fresh voice, and one that Francie was relieved to hear. Even as the last of Lower IV left the room, Matron Henschell entered. "Now," she said, "what's happened?"

"She fainted," Francie answered.

"Hmm." Matron Henschell frowned. "Renata, do you know if anything's been wrong with Margaret today?"

Renata shook her head. "No, Matron."

"Hmm. Did she say anything or do anything before fainting

Hesitantly, Francie said, "She, ah, she mentioned something about a bloody hand."

"We've got Lady Macbeth's speech for rep," put in Renata.

"Well that answers my next question," Matron Henschell muttered. No more could be said at that moment, because Margaret began to come round. "All right, Francie, you had better go and see to the rest of Lower IV, I'll speak to Miss Annersley." To Margaret, she added, "It's all right, Margaret, I'm going to take you to the san, you'll soon feel better."

Thus dismissed, Francie collected her work and led Renata off to the Lower IV common room where a group of unfledged baby angels was waiting quietly and demurely.

Something about the air of piety set Francie's teeth on edge. They weren't even indulging in furthering the feud. That made Francie suspect that at least some of the monkeys knew something more about Margaret's escapade. Again her attention went to the two known naughtiest girls in the class, Jack and Gillie, but both looked utterly blameless. If anything, both looked a little morose. The source of Jack's dismay soon became apparent as she proclaimed to her clan that,

"I've still got half that ghastly arithmetic left, and the rep."

'I ought to let the monkey know I'm still going to see if she can see Len,' Francie decided, but even as she took a step forward to do just that, something caught her eye in the corner of the room. She stopped and slowly turned to look properly. No, she hadn't been seeing things. There really was a fishing rod in the corner of the room.

Francie frowned. Why was there a fishing rod in a middles common room? In any common room, for that matter, seeing as she struggled to imagine any of the seniors suddenly taking up fishing, particularly at this time of year! Time to get to the bottom of this.

She crossed the common room, towards the fishing rod, and heard several gasps and groans. Out of the tail of her eye, she saw Ghiselaine Touvet and Rosemary Wentworth suddenly look guilty, while a couple of other worthies of the same little clan looked positively shifty. Then she reached the fishing rod and found the answer. Attached to the end of the line, and lying on the floor, partially hidden by a box of old clothes that looked fit for nothing so much as incineration, was a mannequin hand that looked, at least at first glance, as if it was absolutely covered in gore.

Gingerly, Francie picked it up. The 'gore' proved to be paint, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

Turning to the room, Francie glared around at the occupants. "Would I be right in thinking this," and she waved the offending object like a conductor's baton, "is the cause of Margaret's fainting fit?"

The silence in the common room was positively deafening.

Not a single junior middle moved under Francie's cold and righteously angry gaze.

"I am waiting," she snapped. "To whom does this belong?"

She was aware of sundry nudges being passed between several people before, finally, Rosemary nervously got to her feet. "It's mine, Francie," she said.

"I see." Francie gazed at Rosemary for a few moments. Rosemary's head drooped under the weight of that gaze. "Would I be correct in guessing that it is some sort of representation from Macbeth?"

"Y---yes, Francie."

The bell for the end of prep rang. Francie paid it no heed. "And what have you been doing with it? Did you bring it into prep and use it to scare Margaret?"

"No!" Rosemary was sufficiently shocked by the suggestion that she actually looked up for a moment. "I wouldn't do something like that!"

Francie just lifted a sceptical eyebrow. "But this is the hand that Margaret mentioned, is it not?"

Rosemary ducked her head again, blushing to her ear tips. "Yes, Francie."

"Then," said Francie, "perhaps you, and whoever else was involved in this, might like to explain just what has been going on?" Her tone of voice left no room for refusal.

Of all people, Gretchen von Ahlen got to her feet now. "Bitte, Francie," she began.

"In English, if you please," Francie cut in.

Gretchen gulped. "Please, Francie," she began again, "Miss Stone said that Shakespeare was best read aloud."

Francie stared at Gretchen, even as the girl trailed off. "I beg your pardon?" she finally managed, incredulous to the core, but timid Gretchen had reached the limits of what she could manage.

"We were just acting it out," said Rosemary, coming to the rescue of her timorous friend.

Francie blinked, slowly. Finally the truth began to dawn. Her enterprising juniors had been holding some sort of impromptu drama club to try and improve their appreciation of Shakespeare. Suddenly, she was seized with a fit of the giggles. Her own crowd, when middles, would never have done something like this; it would have seemed far too much like schoolwork. Giggles, however, were not going to unravel the rest of this mess. Digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand, she said,

"When have you been holding these acting 'sessions'?"

There was an electric pause and Francie guessed, just fractionally before Rosemary admitted it, that they had been sneaking down to the common room after hours.

"Who else is involved in this?" Francie asked. "Margaret, for one, I assume?" Rosemary nodded. "Obviously yourself and Gretchen. Who else?" She paused to see if Rosemary would say anything, or if anyone else would get the courage to stand up. No-one moved. "Macbeth is a complicated play and even with each of you taking several roles, there must have been at least someone else involved. I mean to find out, so you might as well own up now."

Sheepishly, a rag-tag group of five others, including Ghiselaine, climbed slowly to their feet. Now that she knew what had been going on, Francie could see the signs of tiredness in all seven sorry individuals. All of them looked pale-faced while Gretchen, who had been a delicate child, looked decidedly peaky. That, more than anything, told Francie that this was as far as she could safely deal with the matter.

Mannequin hand in hand, Francie headed towards the common room door. "This way, you seven." All seven suddenly looked very blue. Francie paused. "You've had your fun; it's time to pay for it now."

"But it was school work!" Ghiselaine put in.

"School work," said Francie icily, "is done at the proper time; don't try to fool yourselves into believing this was anything of the sort." And having most effectively squashed Ghiselaine, Francie led the depressed little band to Miss Annersley's study.

On reaching the study, Francie tapped on the door and, on being bidden entry, led the miscreants into the Study. Miss Annersley gave the little band a somewhat surprised look. Not without cause, Francie realised, seeing as none of the Lower IV firebrands were contained within.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Head Mistress enquired.

Francie waited a beat, to see if the group's de facto leader, Rosemary, would offer up the explanation. When she didn't, Francie began: "There was a disturbance in Lower IV's prep session." Miss Annersley nodded and Francie remembered that Matron Henschell had probably informed the Head Mistress of that. Gamely, Francie continued, "I then found this," and she proffered the mannequin hand, "in the middles' common room."

"I see," said Miss Annersley. "Perhaps, Rosemary, you would care to explain?"

And slowly, with many hesitations, the whole story came out. Francie was astonished to realise that the whole caper had begun nearly two weeks earlier, when Gretchen and Margaret had been bemoaning how hard understanding Shakespeare was. From there, Miss Stone's comment about Shakespeare being better read aloud sparked Rosemary to propose they act out Macbeth and see if that helped while it had been Ghislaine who had suggested they hold their sessions after hours.

Miss Annersley's expression on hearing the whole rigmarole grew graver. "Why did you decide to hold these sessions, in the common room, after hours? Why not hold them after Abendessen?"

"Be...because Jack would have laughed at us," stammered Ghislaine.

"And because we're not supposed to touch our books once prep is finished," put in another of the group, Meg Walton.

Francie only just managed to keep her mouth shut at these two pieces of 'reasoning'. She couldn't believe that they were prepared to try them with Miss Annersley. Even when she had been at her absolute, obstinate worst she knew she would have never dared to suggest either!

Miss Annersley's face darkened. "What business is it of Jack's, or anyone else's for that matter? The time after Abendessen is time for you spend as you wish, within reason and school rules." Here, she paused. "Further more, is Jack's opinion of you worth more than your own health?"

That finished a couple of the more timid members of the band and they began to cry. But Miss Annersley wasn't finished.

"As for not touching your school books after prep, how can you then justify breaking one of the strictest rules to carry out your sessions?" Miss Annersley gazed steadily at the sinners. "You have behaved in a thoroughly dishonest manner, one of your number, as a result, is in the san..."

"W...will Margaret be all right?" Rosemary stammered.

"She...she's not going to die, is she?" added Meg, whereby Francie had to once more dig her fingernails into the palms of her hands to avoid laughing. Her only comfort was a quick glance in Miss Annersley's direction, which showed that the Head Mistress herself was dangerously close to laughter, and that made Francie hastily look away lest she meet the Head Mistress' eye.

"Of course she's not going to die," Miss Annersley responded sharply. "She is, at present, very tired and very sorry for herself, but after a couple of days' rest, she will be perfectly all right." And, having disposed of that, she pronounced judgement. "For the next week, all of you will sleep in the san. All eight of you, including Margaret, will keep to junior hours and junior privileges. And lastly, as you have shown you cannot be trusted sharing a dormitory, you will all be moving dormitories for the rest of the term." Ghiselaine opened her mouth to protest this last punishment, but Miss Annersley fixed the junior middle with a glare that ended the French girl's defiance. "Francie, please take them up to the San."

Francie dropped her regulation curtsey and turned for the door. Meekly, the seven sinners followed.

~*~

"Where've you been?" exclaimed Rosamund as Francie finally made her way into the Prefects' room, having left her charges in the not-so-tender care of Matrons Henschell and Lloyd.

"Taking prep with Lower IV," Francie replied succinctly, putting away her books.

"All this time?" Maeve's exclamation was not without reason, considering it was almost time for the Abendessen bell to be rung. "What on earth has been going on?"

"What's Gillie done now?" Monica Garstan asked, resignation deep in her voice.

"Or Jack, for that matter?" Monica Caird added.

"And where is Len?" finished Rosamund.

Francie looked around at the gathered crowd. "What a set of walking question marks!" she exclaimed. "Let a body sit down, do!" Then, before anyone could object, Francie suited action to words, and took up a convenient seat with a relieved sigh.

"So?" prompted Mary Murrell. "What have our juniors been up to?"

The funny side of it all struck Francie and she giggled. "Take your pick," she said. "There was Jack who felled Len in the dormy..."

"How?" demanded Rosamund.

"Dropped her toothpaste, the careless ape. Len's hopping mad and very sore." That had been the one bonus to taking the sinners up to the San; she had been able to duck in and briefly see Len and check as to whether Jack would be able to visit. Meditatively, Francie added, "I suspect she'll deal with Jack's morals when Jack goes up to see her after Abendessen."

"Well, if it wasn't Jack in prep," began Maeve.

"It wasn't," said Francie. "Nor was it Gillie," she added, "so you can stop looking worried, Monica."

Monica smiled in relief. "So what was it?"

And thus prompted, Francie recounted the entire prep session. When she reached the part about the gang of middles breaking bounds after hours to read Macbeth, the rest of the prefects were torn between laughing the concept of midnighting to further grades, which was certainly a first for the Chalet School, and being scandalised at the middles' reasoning behind it.

"Just when," Maeve began, "I thought I had heard it all before." She shook her head. "What on earth will middles think of next?"

 

#17:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 12:01 pm

It's great to have this back, Ray. It's just as much fun second time around. Razz

 

#18:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 12:31 pm

Well done Francie!

Thanks Ray Very Happy

Liz

 

#19:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 1:54 pm

I haven't read this before so it's doubly great to have chapters every day. Thanks Ray.

 

#20:  Author: *Aletea*, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Jun 14, 2005 2:55 pm

Marvellous, yet again! *looking forward to tomorrow's chapter*

 

#21:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 1:05 am

This is great fun! Very Happy

 

#22:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 5:07 am

Thanks Ray, as the others have said, this is just as much fun to read the second time around.

 

#23:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 8:43 am

Great fun. Thank you Ray!

 

#24:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 12:04 pm

PHEW! Glad you're not bored with me fixing and rewriting the old stuff and VERY glad you're enjoying it Smile Here's today's chapter.

Chapter 4

"They did what?" Len's exclamation was loud and astonished and in English, despite it being French day.

Francie chuckled. It was two days after Lower IV's efforts in prep and this was the first time she'd had a chance to regal Len with the full details. Len, for her part, had been out of school for two days, having thoroughly jarred her back, courtesy of Jack's toothpaste, while Francie, who had been in to see her friend while she'd been hors de combat, had been at great pains to not make her friend laugh in case it made her back worse. So the full tale of prep had been held back. Today, however, Len was fit again and, since they had been sent along to the Sanatorium at the other end of the Platz with a parcel of clothing, Francie was taking the opportunity to fill her in.

"En français, se te plaît," Francie reminded Len with a grin.

"Oh bother you," Len retorted, slipping back into French. "And do you seriously mean to tell me that Meg Walton actually tried to insist it was somehow all right to play at Macbeth after hours?"

"I do," said Francie with conviction. "I thought The Abbess might actually eat her on the spot," she added thoughtfully. "I don't think even the one and only Emmy would have suggested it in her worst moments. I know I certainly wouldn't!"

Len chuckled. "Nor would Margot, if you come to that."

"She said as much when I told her," said Francie grinning. "But," she continued, "it did give me a thought."

Len stopped dead and frankly goggled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, not to be impudent or silly like that and definitely not to break bounds," Francie said hurriedly. "Don't worry, I have no plans on turning back into a sulky middle. I didn't enjoy it all that much the first time round."

Len started walking again. "I didn't imagine you did mean that," she said. "I just can't imagine what you do mean."

"Well, the kids do have a point," Francie explained. "Shakespeare is so much better if you see it performed."

Len nodded. "That's certainly true."

"And up here, there's very little chance of us getting to see that," Francie continued.

"They're organising a trip for the seniors to see that new film version of Richard III," said Len thoughtfully, "but they won't be taking the middles---"

"And Rosemary and co would have done themselves out of such an enormous treat anyway," Francie finished, at which, Len nodded. "So, what I was thinking was---"

But Francie was fated not to finish that sentence. As they rounded the curve of the path, they came upon a very unexpected, and alarming sight. There, lying on the path, sprawled face down as if he'd fallen, was a young man. Francie froze to the spot in surprise. She looked around, to see what he might have fallen from, but there was nothing obvious and her questing gaze eventually settled back on his still form allowing her to take in a few details. He had short, dark hair and was wearing some kind of uniform, made from tough-looking navy blue, or possibly black, material, finished off with tough, heavy boots. What she could see of his face, which, admittedly, wasn't much, suggested his skin had a darker tint than her own. That wasn't unusual in and of itself; there were plenty of people of Italian descent in the area, who had the olive colouring to go with the heritage. Except the tint was all wrong. It was more coffee-coloured than that.

If Francie was frozen, though, Len was not. She was already moving towards the san, calling, "I'll go and get help. You'd better stay here, with him, in case he comes round."

Francie nodded dazedly. He was unconscious? How had she not noticed that? 'Pull yourself together, Francie,' she chided. 'And remember your first aid.' With that thought uppermost, she stepped forwards, towards the young man, and crouched beside him.

Carefully, she placed her fingers against his neck and checked for a pulse. That was nice and strong, and he did seem to be breathing regularly. She guessed that probably meant he hadn't suffered anything truly serious. More than that, though, she wasn't prepared to diagnose. He was also, she realised, cold. With a thought that Matey would probably have her guts for garters, she shed her coat and carefully, tucked it around him. Len wouldn't be long, and he needed it more than she did just yet.

At that moment, he gave a groan and started to try and move.

"Leicht, sind Sie verletzt," she cautioned, taking a guess that he was probably local.

"Ich weiß," he mumbled, somewhat indistinctly. He shifted fractionally until he was looking up at her.

And now, Francie was convinced he wasn't Italian. His features reminded her far more of the newsreel footage she'd seen of Korea the last time she'd gone to the pictures. Wildly, she wondered just how on earth he'd come to be here. And speaking German, to boot!

Almost as if he guessed her train of thought, he added, "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" There was a puzzled note to his voice, even as Francie nodded. "Good," he said and his natural accent instantly marked him as American, which puzzled Francie even further. "I..." He stopped. "Where am I?"

"You're about fifteen minutes away from the Gornetz Platz San," Francie answered.

To her surprise, and no little horror, he just looked blank. "I am?"

Francie was at a loss. "In the Bernese Oberland?" she tried.

"I---" He frowned, hesitating. "I know that's Switzerland." His frown deepened. "But it's as if there's this big---" He grimaced, obviously hunting for a suitable word and coming up short.

"You don't remember?" Francie queried.

"No." He closed his eyes and frowned in concentration. "I remember stuff."

"Stuff?" Francie echoed.

"Things." He opened his eyes and met her gaze. "I remember German. I remember geography. Random things." Quietly, ashamedly, he confessed, "But I don't know who I am."

Francie had already guessed he was going to say that, but still it surprised and shocked him. How frightening was it to wake up and not know anything about yourself? Certainly, she could think of moments in her life that she would dearly love to forget, but to forget everything about yourself? She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked, mis-interpreting her shiver.

"No, I'm fine." She mustered a smile. "Besides, I think you need the coat more than I do, right now."

He matched her smile, albeit weakly. "Guess I am kinda cold."

That comment recalled Francie to his present situation. Looking closely at his face, she could see that his lips were turning blue from a combination of shock, pain and cold. Below that, she could just make out the first darkening of a bruise on his jaw. No fall would cause that, she realised. Not for the first time, she wondered just what had happened to him.

Aloud, all she said was, "My friend's gone for help; she won't be long."

He smiled faintly. "Good." His eyes started to slide shut.

"No you don't," said Francie sharply. She vaguely realised that whatever else she did, she needed to try and keep him conscious.

"Sorry," he answered, reopening his eyes. "I just think I could sleep right now."

"Well you can't." Francie was firm. "Don't make me treat you like a naughty middle."

He gave her a quizzical look. "Middle? Is that something else I don't remember?"

Francie smiled and gestured to her blazer. "It's what we call the younger kids at school. The under fifteens."

That, at least, sparked a light of understanding. "Sounds like middle school back home," he said. Then he frowned. "Da, uh, dang." He blushed, then added, "That is so disconcerting."

Francie's smile turned sympathetic. "You remember school?" she asked.

He grimaced. "No; just how it works." He sighed. "At least, how it works in America." He sighed again. "I don't think I'm going to like just remembering weird bits here and there."

"Maybe it won't be permanent," Francie offered. "I read somewhere that amnesia isn't."

"I hope you're right," he replied. A fine tremor ran through his body. "Is it me or is it getting colder?"

Looking around, Francie realised that the afternoon was drawing on. "It is getting late," she admitted. "Help is on the way, though," she added. "My friend, Len, went straight to the san, and she's a good runner."

He smiled faintly. "She?"

"It's short for Helena," Francie explained.

"And how about you?" he asked. "Do you have a name?"

"I'm Francie," she answered. Then added, "Short for Frances, but call me that and you can whistle for an answer."

He started to chuckle, then winced. "Ow; that hurts. Guess that means laughing's out for a while."

The sound of approaching footsteps heralded the arrival of help in the familiar form of Dr Graves.

The next few minutes were a whirl. First came Dr Graves, brisk and businesslike in his assessments. Then came the stretcher-bearers from the ambulance and before ten minutes had passed, Francie found herself being whisked off to the san in the wake of the young man.

But once at the san, she felt somewhat lost. She knew Len was around somewhere, but no-one seemed to have any suggestions as to where she was. In fact, mostly, people seemed to be ignoring her, busy in their own work or in dealing with the young man who, Francie realised, must be quite seriously injured. Though Dr Graves had said nothing to her, she had picked up enough of what he'd said to the two ambulance men that there were fractured ribs and she had seen for herself just how carefully they'd inched the young man onto the stretcher, taking great care not to move him more than necessary. It reminded her of how they had taken care of Mary-Lou after her accident.

Francie shivered at that remembrance and hoped that, like Mary-Lou, it would prove to be less serious than was feared.

"There you are!" Francie span round at the voice and found Dr Graves standing behind her. He offered a chuckle. "Your friend's been checked in." Francie opened her mouth to correct Dr Graves' assumption, but he was already continuing, "I'll take you through to see him, then I'm going to run you back to school."

Francie found herself almost running to keep up with the doctor's lengthy stride. "What about Len?" she asked. "I thought---"

Dr Graves offered her a smile. "Her father's already taken her back to school; he'd just been called there when she arrived. So he took her straight back and dropped me off close to where you were waiting on the way." His smile faded. "I want you to know, though, that you both did absolutely the right thing. Particularly you, Francie; he's told me you kept him awake and did what you could to keep him warm." Francie found herself blushing at the unexpected praise. "Above all, you kept your head." Dr Graves smiled. "You did very well."

Sparing Francie any more, they reached a door into one of the san wards.

"You may have five minutes," Dr Graves said, and then ushered her into the ward.

The only bed presently occupied was in the middle of the small ward and positioned so that its occupant would, when he was sitting up, have a view straight out across the Platz. At the moment, however, he was lying flat, but, at the sound of her footsteps, he turned his head to see who was approaching.

"Hi," he said, smiling.

Francie smiled in return. He looked much better than he had done the last time she'd seen him. Warmer, certainly. There was also something that suggested he wasn't in as much pain as he'd been before. That had been something she hadn't considered while they were waiting and yet it seemed obvious to her now.

"Thank you," he said. "For staying with me."

Francie smiled a little shyly, unsure quite how to answer.

"They found me a name," he continued. She saw him glance at the bedside cabinet. "On there."

Francie crossed to the cabinet and found a metal chain with a tag attached to it. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's a dog tag," he answered. "I was wearing it, so I figure it's mine."

"Dog tag?" Francie echoed.

"American military identification," he said, a wry expression on his face now. "It's another one of those random things I remember."

Francie picked up the tag and studied it for a moment. The letters punched into the small oblong of metal gave the young man's name as Eric Myers. She looked from them to the man the name apparently belonged to. "Mr Myers?"

"That's what the tag says," he answered. "It's as good a name as any right now." Then he smiled again. "But please, call me Eric? I don't feel like I'm 'mister' anyone right now."

Francie nodded. "All right. Eric it is."

 

#25:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 12:11 pm

Ooooooh the mysterious Eric Very Happy

Thanks Ray

Liz

 

#26:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 12:23 pm

will we actually get to find out what happens to Eric this time then?!

thanks Ray

 

#27:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 3:00 pm

I'd forgotten all about Eric...as intriguing this time as last. Its great to be going through all this again.

Thanks Ray!

 

#28:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 4:13 pm

Ooo, this is very good. Thanks Ray.

 

#29:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 5:05 pm

Mysterious Eric - thanks Ray. Laughing

 

#30:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 6:25 pm

Thanks Ray Very Happy Am enjoying re-reading this.

 

#31:  Author: Katie, Location: A Yorkshire lass in London PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 6:33 pm

Y'know, I was sure I'd read at least part of this, but I don't remember no Eric, so I must have made it up. Therefore:

Yay - shiny new drabble! Thanks Ray. Very Happy

 

#32:  Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2005 6:41 pm

This is definitely a shin ynew drabble to me so YAY thank you Ray! Very Happy

 

#33:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2005 2:33 pm

Thank you. Very glad you're enjoying it. Yes, I'm hoping to clear up what happened to Eric (well...some of what happened to Eric, at least!), though that won't happen for quite a few chapters yet. *grin*

Today's post is the final recap post. Although there IS some old stuff still to go up, MOST of tomorrow's post will be new to everyone Smile Thank you for your patience Smile

Chapter 5

Francie found her return to school was embarrassingly high key. It seemed that the story had gone round most of the members of VIa and VIb and they all wanted to know what had happened, who the young man was and if he was all right. At the fourth recitation, she cocked an eye in Len's direction.

"Leaky cistern?" she enquired, just a touch of irritation colouring her voice.

Len looked apologetic. "Sorry. Everyone wanted to know why I arrived with papa and what I'd done with you."

"If you will go off and have adventures," put in Margot with a grin.

Francie rolled her eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not a hope, my child," said Maeve. "Not for another ten minutes, at any rate."

"Ten minutes?" Francie echoed, blankly.

"Prep, dear, prep," responded Maeve with a grin. "See what all this excitement will do for you?"

Francie grimaced at the Head Girl. "It wasn't exciting."

Maeve's reminder that prep would be starting in ten minutes, though, provided Francie was a reprieve. Those amongst the gathered worthies with prep duty departed to collect their books and head off to start their evenings' duties. Most of the rest headed towards the library to start work and in short order, only Francie and Len remained.

"Are you all right?" Len asked. "I really am sorry about---"

Francie cut her off with a smile. "It's all right; I just wasn't quite expecting the Spanish Inquisition."

Len chuckled. "It was a bit like that. Still, I am sorry."

Francie grinned. "Look at it this way; I'll find a way to get revenge sooner or later."

"Consider me shaking in my shoes," Len replied with a giggle, and with that, they started to head for the library themselves, just as the bell for prep began to ring.

Once in the Library, Francie left Len to hunt up some quotes that the younger girl wanted for a history essay and headed for the work area, intending to make a start on the essay it had pleased Mlle to set. Unfortunately, when she sat down and took out her work she found that most of her mind was occupied by other things. Chief amongst them were Dr Graves' parting words:

"Eric is going to be in the san for quite some time; and flat on his back for much of his stay. And that's going to be a long time alone, save for the doctors and nurses."

Francie realised that the authorities at the san would be doing their best to try and find Eric's family, but a name and a nationality was not a huge amount to go on and from Dr Graves' words, he didn't seem to be too hopeful of tracing anyone.

Through their conversation on the path, and then again in the ward, Francie had found Eric to be a nice person. She could easily see herself having the same kind of matey relationship with him that Len, Con and Margot with some of the junior doctors. But would the school authorities permit her to go and visit him, seeing as he wasn't any relation to her?

Francie chewed the end of her pen and frowned.

Then there was the other idea she'd had, about the junior middles and their troubles with Shakespeare. She had badly wanted to ask Len's advice before she mentioned it to anyone else, but the discovery of Eric, unconscious on the path, had put that thought from her mind completely. Now, buoyed by Dr Graves' words, she found herself considering going to Miss Annersley without having used a sounding board. But she couldn't do that, could she?

Then, of course, there was the whole conundrum of who Eric was. If she was honest, that intrigued her more than a little. Living in East Anglia, she knew most of the service uniforms for the American forces and she didn't recognise his clothing as being American military. On the other hand, he said that the dog tags were American military ID. Perhaps that made him some sort of special operative. Maybe he was a spy who had been uncovered and---

Francie giggled at that absurd thought, drawing a couple of frowns from her confreres who were hard at work over their prep. She bent her head towards her essay and tried, again, to concentrate. But, just when Francie thought she'd succeeded, the library door opened to admit Miss Dene. Francie looked up in time to see the school's secretary making a beeline for her.

"Francie, Miss Annersley would like to see you after prep," Miss Dene said quietly.

Silently, Francie nodded. Inwardly, though, she reverted to searching her conscience for mis-deeds that would require such a summons. She came up with nothing. Then she realised that Miss Dene was repeating the same message to Len. That told Francie the meeting with Miss Annersley was probably going to be about the afternoon's events. 'I wonder what Miss Annersley wants to say?' Francie found herself thinking as she yet again frowned at her essay. A glance in Len's direction gave her some comfort: the eldest Maynard triplet looked just as unsettled as Francie felt.

The bell for the end of prep was a blessed release. Francie thanked her stars that Mlle didn't require the essay until the following week; given her distracted state she'd managed only a very bald beginning to it, and the last thing she wanted anyone to think was that she was reverting to her old self. She shuffled her books together.

"Prim, can you take my things back to the form room?" she asked.

"Of course," Primrose answered. "Len; do you want me to take yours, too?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Len agreed. "Thanks Prim."

"Wonder what the Abbess wants," mused Priscilla. "Better not keep her waiting, you two."

"Are we decent?" Len appealed.

"You'll do," said Margot. "You," she added, looking pointed, "always do."

Too old to really start scrapping, Len retaliated by pulling a fearsome grimace at Margot, who chuckled, and turned to Francie. "We'd better go."

Francie nodded and together, they headed for Miss Annersley's study. There was a brief moment of the absurd when they reached the study door and both waited for the other to knock, then, with a wry smile, Francie reached out and gently rapped her knuckles against the wooden panelling.

"Entrez," came the voice from within.

Trying to swallow her nervousness, and trying to take comfort from the fact that Len looked just as nervous as she felt, Francie led the way into the study. Miss Annersley was seated at her desk and she offered a welcoming smile as Francie and Len bobbed the requisite curtseys.

"Thank you for coming," she began. "I won't keep you long. Dr Graves has spoken to me, regarding the gentleman you both helped this afternoon."

For no reason that she could later explain, Francie fully expected to be scolded and was consequently surprised in the extreme when Miss Annersley's next words were,

"He wanted to make sure I knew that you had both done an excellent job." Miss Annersley flashed a quick smile and Francie realised that her sudden thought had been written large across her face. She blushed. "He also requested that, if at all possible, some of our senior girls could come along to visit his patient." Here, Miss Annersley paused for a moment. "He explained that his patient, Mr Myers, appears to have no friends or family in the area and that his will be a lengthy convalescence that would benefit from occasional visits from friendly faces." Miss Annersley smiled. "I have said yes."

Francie's mind was in a whirl at this. It was comfortably been the last thing she had been expecting Dr Graves to do, much less Miss Annersley to agree to. That the school visited both Miss Holroyd and Naomi Elton was one thing; both had connections to the school. This was someone with no connection whatsoever, except for the actions she and Len had taken that afternoon. And yet, Francie guessed it was a large part of what the school was about; learning to think of others before self and doing unto others as you would hope they'd do for you. Maybe it wasn't so surprising Miss Annersley had agreed.

It was Len's, "Thank you, Miss Annersley," that jolted Francie back to reality.

She mustered a smile for the Head and nodded. "Thank you."

Miss Annersley smiled in return. "Anyone who wishes to visit should make sure they give their names to Miss Dene before lunch tomorrow."

That was the clear ending to the meeting and Francie started to bob her curtsey but then she hesitated. Maybe she could present her idea to Miss Annersley without asking someone else's opinion first. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought the idea through from several different angles. The worst Miss Annersley could do was say no, after all!

She was aware of both Len and Miss Annersley looking at her in askance, and she blushed.

"Um," she began. "Miss Annersley, may I ask you something?"

Now, Len was frankly goggling at her and Francie found herself blushing more deeply, but she stuck to her guns. Miss Annersley smiled.

"By all means," she said.

"It, it's about the Lower IV, and Shakespeare," Francie continued. "I think I have a way to help them with their understanding."

~*~

"Your principal, no, wait, you said Head Mistress, sounds like a nice lady." Thus spoke Eric the following afternoon.

By a common, if slightly embarrassing in Francie's estimation, consent from the rest of the sixth form who'd opted to come along to the San, Francie was the first to go in to see Eric. She would then remain to smooth introductions, which meant it had been up to Francie to explain everything.

On hearing Eric's assessment of Miss Annersley, Francie smiled. She recalled how the rest of the interview with the Head had gone the previous evening. "She is."

"I guess, not many schools would do this sort of thing," Eric mused, the wry expression on his face suggested to Francie how much emphasis to place on his use of the word guess. "Must be a real special place."

Francie grinned. "It's that, all right."

"If you don't mind my asking," Eric continued, "how long have you been at the school?"

Francie paused to count it up. "Six years, or there abouts, though all of those haven't been here in Switzerland; the school moved here five years ago."

"From England?" Francie nodded. "Must be kinda a long way to come."

"The journey is tiresome," Francie agreed, "but it's no worse than any other long journey, and going to school here is a lot of fun. You don't get to learn to ski in England!"

Eric chuckled. "It sounds fun." He smiled faintly. "Wonder if I know how to ski."

"Well," said Francie smiling, "you'll probably have the chance to find out."

Eric smiled. "Maybe."

For a second, Francie fancied he was going to suggest that she teach him, but those words remained unspoken. She found herself blushing anyway and instead busied herself waving in Len and Ros.

The next couple of hours were filled the rest of the visitors. Each group talked about something different (so much so that Francie was given cause to wonder whether they'd all discussed it before hand and divvied the topics up between them!) and each group took care not to make their talk too self-involved. Eric, for his part, seemed to seize on each new topic with an interest that was surprising, given Francie was reasonably sure that someone who was in the American armed forces was probably not normally that interested in the doings of an English girl's school.

As the visit wound down and the last of the other visitors, Margot and Primrose, left the ward, Eric said, "Thank you for this afternoon. I guess I'm in for the long haul, so it's nice to know there are other folks out here beyond the docs here."

Francie smiled. "Some of us will be along next week, weather permitting." She hesitated a beat and then added, "Is there anything you'd like us to bring?"

"I'm betting you'll have plenty of school news," Eric replied. "That's good enough for me right now." Francie nodded. There was a shyness to his expression as he continued, "Will you be coming next week?"

"I don't know," Francie admitted, feeling oddly guilty, particularly as Eric's face fell. "I've promised to help some of our middles with Shakespeare."

Eric's eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline. "That's ambitious," he commented.

Francie chuckled. "Not half as ambitious as they were." And briefly, she told him about the midnight Macbeth sessions, which had somehow not been included so far.

By the end of the story, Eric was chuckling cautiously. "You've gotta give them points for trying, I guess."

"It was certainly something new for the school," Francie agreed. "But they got me thinking." And Francie explained her plan to Eric, who nodded appreciatively.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, and I guess your Head Mistress said yes?"

Francie nodded. "Last night. I think Len thought I'd taken complete leave of my senses," she added meditatively. "It did sound as if I was trying to be cheeky."

"Guess that's not something you'd do to your Head Mistress twice and survive," Eric observed.

Francie gave a rueful laugh. "It's possible, but I don't recommend it." That earned her a very searching gaze from Eric, but whatever conclusions he had just drawn, he kept to himself, for which, Francie was grateful. "Anyway. I couldn't do anything about it this week, because of them all being under punishment, so next week it is."

"That makes sense." Eric smiled. "You'll have to let me know how you go."

Francie smiled. "I will do."

 

#34:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2005 2:40 pm

Lovely. Thank you Ray.

Am looking forward to the really new stuff in the next post and to seeing Francie's idea about Shakespeare and the middles oh and to learning more about Eric.

 

#35:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2005 3:32 pm

Thanks Ray, Im loving catching up with Francie again Very Happy

 

#36:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2005 4:05 pm

Thanks Ray

Len and Francie obviously have a good friendship - and I still love that Spanish Inquisition line Laughing

Liz

 

#37:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 3:05 pm

Thanks Ray - love Francie automatically feeling guilty when summoned to the Head! Laughing

 

#38:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 3:13 pm

Lesley, I think Francie will ALWAYS feel immediately guilty about any summons to the Head's study!

As promised, today's the start of the new stuff. I apologise now for the chunks of Shakespeare quoted...I did my best to keep it to a minimum ;)

Chapter 6

The following Saturday, with the permission of Miss Annersley, Francie toured the various middle form rooms immediately after prayers and wrote up a message on the blackboards there that was calculated to have the middles in a state of confusion. It simply said:

"W. Shakespeare cordially invites one and all to a rendition of the Scottish Play, in the Gym at fourteen o'clock, prompt."

Pure curiosity, she knew, was going to persuade most of the middles to attend. 'It's to be hoped that Len can make herself scarce this morning, or I'm sure Jack will question her ear off!' she mused as she rapidly headed up to her dormitory to belatedly complete her chores there.

As far as the middle school was concerned, the morning passed by in an absolute ferment of anticipation. The weather, which contrived to be on Francie's side in matters, was abysmal, which meant no outdoor games. There were activities arranged in Hall to take the place of games, but most of the middles had decided that mysterious messages about Scottish plays needed to be investigated. As such, virtually to a girl, they all decided to attend.

Shortly before the appointed hour, Francie, and a band of acolytes which included as many of the sixth forms as were available, arrived in the gym to set up for the afternoon's fun.

"How many will turn up?" Con enquired as she helped to place the long, backless forms into rows to provide seating for the middles.

"To judge from prep and mending this morning," said Mary with feeling, "most of them; Francie did you have to be quite so aggravating in your message?"

Francie, who was tugging a screen into position to the left of an open area at the front of the room, chuckled. "It's kept them harmlessly amused, hasn't it?"

"If, by harmlessly amused, you mean Jack's been following me around like a perpetual question mark," said Len somewhat bitterly, "then yes."

"You didn't…?"

"I didn't." Len grinned. "But I'll consider today your revenge for last week." Francie laughed.

"Revenge?" Maeve, who had just entered the gym, sounded amused. "I thought you'd be above such things by now."

Francie blushed a little at the Head Girl's remark. "It wasn't intentional," she said. "And I didn't think you were going to be here for this?" she added.

"No-one's getting a sniff of going outside today," said Maeve, inclining her head in the direction of the window on which the rain was currently hammering. "And that includes trips to the san. So, I thought I'd come along and see how this comes off. Besides," she added, "it strikes me that you could have a few more attendees than you're expecting."

Having been reminded of the state of the weather, Francie couldn't disagree. She glanced at her watch and noted the time. "They'll be arriving any minute. Is everyone ready?"

"I need to get changed," said Con, "but that won't take a moment." She gave an uncharacteristically wicked grin and added, "No-one was likely to let me wander the halls of this establishment in that get up!"

The gathered seniors laughed. But at that moment, Margot's quick ear caught the sounds of the first arrivals. "They're here!" she warned. "Best scoot off, Con."

Con duly scooted, while everyone else arranged themselves suitably. Most of the gang took up positions behind the screens, hidden from view, while Francie remained, roughly centre stage. Maeve, with a cheery smile, took up a seat at the back of the collection of benches, just as the first of the middles (predictably, Jack and her gang) arrived.

Francie was hard pushed not to laugh at Jack's expression as that young woman took up a seat on one of the forms and her gaze fell on Francie and, more particularly, Francie's getup. So as to give their juniors as much of an experience as was possible, the gang had raided the acting cupboard for costumes. Francie, as the narrator of the afternoon's fun, was got up as The Bard himself in full doublet and hose. When Jack moved to open her mouth to ask the obvious question, however, Francie just frowned and for once, Jack's question went unasked.

Over the next five minutes, the rest of the middle school filed into the gym. As the last arrival, Gretchen von Ahlen, slipped into an empty seat at barely one minute passed the hour, Francie gave the assembled company a welcoming smile.

"Hail and welcome," she began, drawing instant hush. "My name is William Shakespeare. I was born in 1564, in Stratford upon Avon in England. I make my living as an actor and a playwright. The Scottish play, more commonly known as Macbeth," at which Francie judged several pennies had just dropped for some of the middles, "is the twenty-ninth play. I wrote it in 1606, just after King James I took the throne."

Here, Francie paused and took several paces to the left, clearing the way for the Three Witches to make the 'stage'.

"The play," she continued, "opens on a stormy night, with three Witches, plotting."

On cue, and to gasps of astonishment from the middles, the Witches trio made their way on stage. Margot, with her golden curls back-combed until they stood out in a wild tangle and the ghastly robes that someone from St Mildred's had evolved for one of the pantomime bad fairies, contrived to look truly evil as 'First Witch'. With her, Primrose (as 'Second Witch') and Mary (as 'Third Witch') also looked decidedly disreputable.

"When shall we three meet again?" Margot began in an amazingly creaky voice. "In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

"When the hurlyburly's done," Primrose responded in a growl, "when the battle's lost and won."

"That will be ere the set of sun," Mary finished, her normally pleasant tones suddenly gratingly nasal.

"Where the place?" Margot asked.

"Upon the heath," said Primrose.

"There to meet with Macbeth," Mary finished.

Margot nodded. "I come, Graymalkin!"

The next words were spoken by all three, creating a weird and hideous result: "Paddock calls:--anon:-- Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air."

Francie had to dig the fingernails into the palm of her hand to avoid smiling as the middles burst into spontaneous applause. She just hoped they weren't going to do that after every scene, otherwise they were likely to be here until Kaffee!

The idea that Francie had conceived, and that they were carrying out, was for a narrator to recite the basic story of Macbeth and then for various key scenes to be acted out by the rest of the gang. They had jointly decided on which scenes had to be included and then had chosen who should take on which role. After finding herself pushed into the narrator's role, Francie decided the easiest role to cast had been Lady Macbeth. As Margot had said earlier that morning when they had made one final rehearsal, there really had been only one choice.

Now, as Francie finished the lead-up to the next scene, a scene between Lady Macbeth and her husband, she had to bite back a smile. This was going to be fun.

She stepped aside once more and Len stepped on stage, dressed as Macbeth. This drew forth a collective 'ooh' from the gathered middles. After giving them a moment to react, Len began:

"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly. If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all--here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,--
We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgement here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind.--I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other."

As Len finished the speech, Francie knew that Lady Macbeth would be entering from the right. She guessed when that worthy had made her entrance from the unified gasp from the middles. She shifted a little so as she could view the fun.

Sure enough, there was Lady Macbeth. Her costume was simple: a long dark coloured skirt over a pure white shift comprised its sum. But with her long, dark hair loosed from its customary tail, Con achieved the unearthly look required for the part without needing anything more elaborate.

"How now! what news?" Len enquired.

"He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber?" Con replied, making the question pointed.

"Hath he ask'd for me?"

"Know you not he has?" The return question was shot back with unexpected venom, provoking another gasp from middles, who had not yet seen anything other than dreamy distraction from Con.

As the scene progressed and Macbeth wavered in his resolve to commit the murder, Lady Macbeth became more and more persuasive until Len gave the final speech, finally convinced, "I am settled and bend up, each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know."

Scene end, to much applause. Francie smiled as she retook centre stage. This was going to be a success.

And sure enough, it was. The middles watched with growing interest and increasing comprehension as the play unfolded. There were a few tears when Priscilla, in the role of MacDuff, learned of her family's murder; there were rather more cheers when 'MacDuff' and 'Macbeth' met for the climactic scene. There were oooohs for Con's rendition of Lady Macbeth's dagger speech (though Francie did have to mentally cross her fingers none of the watching middles would have nightmares or else Matey would be after her!) and there was resounding applause as the play came to a close.

 

#39:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 3:22 pm

Excellent - and I'm sure all the Middles will know that play now - much better way to learn than just reading it.

Thanks Ray.

 

#40:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 6:11 pm

Hurrah - the play's finally here! Laughing Very Happy

Thanks Ray, that was great. As Lesley said, they certinaly won't forget it now! Can attest to the fact that you never forget it - I can still remember passages from it I learnt for my GCSE 17 years ago!

*realises how old that makes me sound and faints*

 

#41:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 11:39 pm

Hurrah! Thanks Ray

I feel sorry for Margot combing out her curls aftewards though *ouch*

Josie wrote:
can still remember passages from it I learnt for my GCSE 17 years ago!

*realises how old that makes me sound and faints*

at least it was GCSE and not O'level!!

Liz

 

#42:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2005 11:49 pm

Oh I am loving this drabble! Eric sounds rather nice.... Can we see some more of him please???

 

#43:  Author: tiffinata, Location: melbourne, australia PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2005 10:03 am

I remember Macbeth from Year 10 English class. As it happens a local theatre group comandeered an old 2 story factory /warehouse building to perform it in. Imagine, if you will, the middle of winter, no heating, no scenery, and rats. eerie just doesn't describe it.

But it sure made me begin to like Shakespeare!

Andrea

 

#44:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2005 10:49 pm

Here's today's installment. There'll be more Eric in the next chapter but I needed to get some of EBD's plot covered. I have tweaked EBD's timeline slightly, to get a better fit. And for the record, I completely sympathise with Francie over the subject of her maths coaching - I never DID get the hang of it!

Chapter 7

The week that followed the Shakespeare performance saw an increase in the tensions between the two schools. There had been a certain amount of trouble with the younger St Hilda's pupils right at the start of term, brought about by some peremptory treatment of the St Hilda's cat, Minette, but after that, things had seemed to settle down, and by the time Francie and her friends performed Macbeth for them, most of the middles had resigned themselves to belonging to the Chalet School, for now.

Unfortunately, that was all upset just a day later. The rains had stopped and the ground had dried out enough that the school authorities decreed that after church there should be rambles. Francie found herself, in company with Ros and Mary, helping to oversee the thirds on their way to the Auberge with Miss Andrews and Miss Carey. As they left school grounds, Francie was aware of Miss Moore and Miss Denny reorganising the lines of Lower IV prior to their departure and she wondered whether that would be the final death of the feud. Then Ros was asking her something and Francie put the thought out of her head and gave her mind to Ros and the ramble they were on.

It was only later, when they returned to school, that they heard about the trouble with Minette and her double.

"It must have been quite a sight," commented Maeve as Len finished describing Karen's treatment of the scrapping cats to a select gathering of prefects.

"That," said Len pointedly, "is not the word for it. And," she added, "some of the middles are simply raging over the cats being doused with water."

"Silly asses," observed Monica Caird. "How else do they expect you separate fighting cats?"

"This means trouble," Francie commented pessimistically.

"Oh, surely not," objected Ros. "They couldn't be so silly."

Francie said no more, and the conversation moved on, but she couldn't help shake the suspicion that things were going to go badly this week.

The next thing that happened, at least as far as Francie was concerned, was maths coaching session with Miss Ashley. Maths had been the one area where Francie was still behind her form mates and so Miss Wilmot had been giving her coaching sessions to bring her level with the rest of the form, but on that particular day Miss Wilmot had been forced to make a trip down to Interlaken to see Herr von Francius about a tooth that had been giving her trouble and had asked Miss Ashley to take the session.

The moment Miss Ashley walked into the room, Francie could sense the young teacher's dislike. For a moment, Francie wondered whether her old reputation had been passed on to the mistress. In the next moment, she realised that was highly unlikely. None of the Chalet mistresses would have said a word about it while of the girls, only those in the fifth and sixth forms knew anything about it and with the arguable exception of Prudence Dawbarn, all of them had far more sense than to butt in like that. Unfortunately, with that ruled out, Francie was at a loss as to explain Miss Ashley's hostility.

"Miss Wilmot has left you these equations to work on," Miss Ashley stated coolly, handing over a sheet of differential equations. Then, before Francie could say a word, she sat down at the Mistress' desk and started marking the pile of books she'd brought with her.

Francie stared, all manner of responses rushing through her mind. For just a brief second, she wished she was back in Lower IV. At least then she might have been expected to have a tantrum at such abrupt treatment! Instead, she bit her tongue and looked at the work she had been presented. Unfortunately, differentials was a topic that she had only just started and as a result, just getting on with them was the one thing Francie could not do.

After trying for twenty minutes and getting nowhere, Francie finally risked politely asking for help. With a grudging that inwardly amazed Francie, Miss Ashley condescended to explain the first example.

"Now see if you can manage the rest," she finished, snippily, heading back to the Mistress' desk, muttering something that Francie could barely hear but sounded suspiciously like, "If we had our own school I wouldn't have to coach an ignoramus."

Francie's blood began to boil at that. 'I must not answer back,' she thought to herself, trying wildly to retain a grip on her temper. 'I simply must not answer back, or I shall be letting everyone down.' But it was a near thing and the less said about her resultant efforts with the differentials, the better.

By the time the bell rang, Francie wasn't very sure whether she wanted to scream or burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" Margot enquired as Francie joined the rest of Lower VI for the Head's literature lecture, but Francie merely shook her head. As tempting as it was, she wasn't about to start ranting about Miss Ashley's inequities.

Later, as they put their books away before Kaffee und Kuchen, Primrose asked if there was anything wrong.

"Bad coaching session," Francie admitted.

"What on?" asked Margot.

"Differentials."

Margot pulled a face. "They are rather vile."

"I can probably help you, if you want," offered Primrose, nodding in agreement to Margot's statement.

"Could you?" Francie had been dreading Miss Wilmot seeing her efforts.

"Of course." Primrose smiled. "Now stop going about like a wet week. Besides, isn't it your turn on duty at Kaffee?" Francie nodded blankly. "If you go about looking as you currently do, you'll turn the milk sour!"

At which remarkable suggestion, Primrose went away laughing. Francie rolled her eyes, but she took Primrose's point. She contrived to dismiss the session from her mind, but Miss Ashley's comment remained at the back of her mind and when, two days later, Maeve was discussing the middles' current state of ferment, she observed quietly, "It's my opinion that it's Miss Ashley's attitude that's responsible for part of it."

"Francie! What are you talking about?" Monica Caird exclaimed.

"Just that." It was on the tip of Francie's tongue to repeat a fractionally edited version of what Miss Ashley had said to her in the coaching session, but thought better of it. "Monica Garstin has the feeling that if she can possibly do it, Miss Ashley will prise them out of here."

"No mistress is going to tell middles anything of that sort," said Ros.

"She might not say it," Lizette replied, "but they may well feel it."

'And she is certainly none too discreet about her feelings,' Francie thought, but she knew better than to say so.

As no-one could see a way of preventing trouble from escalating any further, however, the conversation was dropped and a moment later two of the St Hilda's prefects, Mary and Pamela, entered.

The rest of the week past by quietly. The middles continued to scrap between themselves, but as that scrapping remained of a sort that no-one could really take official notice of, nothing further was done.

Francie, for her part, continued to remain silent on the subject of Miss Ashley's feelings, but by the end of the week, that young woman had contrived to make them extremely plain to the world. Francie was never entirely sure quite what the circumstances were, for Margot (the bearer of the news) was not at her most coherent when she burst into the Lower VI form room with the news that Herr Laubach had died and that Miss Ashley had, effectively, danced on his grave.

The arguments rolled around the form room until they reached such a pitch that Len had to clap her hands and remind them that they certainly didn't want any staff landing on them. That quelled most of the riot, but the damage had been done and the feud had broken out within the seniors.

 

#45:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2005 10:56 pm

Poor Francie, not feeling able to say anything - and don't think much of Miss Ashley as a teacher. fume

Thanks Ray.

 

#46:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:10 pm

Thanks Ray

Liz

 

#47:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:38 pm

Thanks Ray, I agree, poor Francie!
(I hate maths too)

 

#48:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Jun 19, 2005 12:36 am

Thanks Ray Kiss

 

#49:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sun Jun 19, 2005 4:46 am

Wow, seven chapters!
Great to see this back.

Very impressed at the speed with which Francie organized the Shakespeare production, and looking forward to what Eric will think of it all.

Not so impressed with Mim Ashley -- but that's nothing new! Nor with differential equations, I'm afraid -- good thing I've never needed them since my degree. Embarassed

 

#50:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2005 8:59 am

Thanks Ray!

Wonderful - loved the Shakespeare and hate the maths too!

 

#51:  Author: *Aletea*, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2005 12:13 pm

This is great (still!) - I just wish I'd read the book that matches up to it so I can understand some of the background!

 

#52:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2005 7:37 pm

thanks for the new bit Ray!

 

#53:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2005 8:23 pm

It wouldn't have mattered what Miss Ashley's subject was - if she was a 'born teacher', she would want to help Francie to learn more. She's just a nasty piece of work.

 

#54:  Author: Joey, Location: Cambridge PostPosted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 11:19 am

Great to see this back, Ray, and the new bit's fantastic. Miss Ashley is horrible - she shouldn't be allowed to work in a school.

Thank you - more please!

 

#55:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 1:14 pm

I have just read this from start to fiinish and I am really enjoying it so far. It has reminded me of studying Macbeth in Year Ten. A group of us had to act out a scene around the time of Duncan's murder. I think I was the night porter if my memory serves me correctly.

I have one question though. Miss Annersley told Francie that she had been picked over Primula, Primrose and Margot because she had overcome her demons. Hasn't Margot also worked through a lot to overcome her demons?

Last edited by Chair on Sat Jun 25, 2005 10:11 pm; edited 1 time in total

 

#56:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 1:25 pm

I read most of this last week and was going to reply, but then the board went down Sad And then I forgot.

This is really excellent, Ray. It was first time around as well.

Poor Francie! I have blocked out most of my (old style) AS Maths, and differentials do sound scary, lol Smile

Glad to see lovely long chapters Smile

 

#57:  Author: *Aletea*, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 2:26 pm

But where's the updates???


*bounce*

 

#58:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 10:10 pm

I should have had this up on Monday, but what with one thing or another, it's been a busy week. Many apologies!

Chair: Margot's still overcoming her demons (the bookend throwing incident's in the next book [Triplets] after Feud, after all). Who knows; maybe Miss Annersley suspected something like that was still likely when she and the rest of the staff were deciding the prefects!

I will *TRY* to get chapter 9 up by Monday ;)

Chapter 8

The Requiem Mass for Herr Laubach was held in Our Lady of the Snows the following morning. It was attended by both schools, almost to a pupil, and it did put a form of truce over the middles as far as the feud went. Higher up the school, though, it was harder to achieve that kind of temporary respite. The harshness of Miss Ashley's comment had thoroughly put the backs up of the Chalet sixth formers while the five St Hilda's girls, as horrified as they'd been by the comment, felt they were duty bound to support their Mistress.

It was, Francie decided as she walked back from the Requiem mass, a complete mess. And some small devil, still hurting from the coaching session, was seriously tempted to make things even worse by letting slip just what Miss Ashley had said then. She wished that she could talk matters over with someone, but her options were limited. Ruey, by dint of being in VA, was completely out; Francie wasn't of a mind to let Miss Ashley's inequities reach any further down the school. She did consider speaking to Len, but she had seen all three triplets making off for Freudesheim and she knew that they were probably feeling Herr Laubach's death rather more than most, having known him rather better than most of the girls. Of the rest of Lower VI, there was no-one she was especially close to.

"Francie!" Maeve called, bringing her up short.

Looking round, Francie spotted the Head Girl giving chase. She waited until Maeve had caught up. "What's up?" Francie enquired.

"There's a group of us going to the San to see Naomi," Maeve answered. "She's bound to be taking this hard. Do you want to come?" It was on the tip of Francie's tongue to ask why Naomi should want to see her when Maeve added, "Not to see Naomi (though I'm sure she wouldn't complain at a fresh face!), but to visit Eric."

And the solution to Francie's current problem presented itself neatly. "When are you going?" she asked.

"After Mittagessen," Maeve replied.

"OK." Francie smiled faintly. "Thank you."

Maeve smiled. "Just be ready to go pronto or else we won't have long at the San." And with that warning, Maeve continued on her way back to school.

After a moment, Francie followed suit, hoping that Eric would be able to help.

~*~

Shortly after fourteen o'clock, Francie made her way into the private ward where Eric was receiving his treatment. He was still lying flat on the bed and, with his eyes closed; he looked almost as if he were asleep. But no sooner had Francie thought that than his eyes opened.

"Hey," he said, surprise in his voice. "Didn't think anyone would be here today."

Francie came and sat down beside the bed. "Oh?"

"The docs told me about your art teacher," Eric explained. "I figured you'd all be busy."

"The Requiem Mass was this morning," Francie answered. "This afternoon was 'please ourselves', more or less, and I didn't want to sit around and mope." 'I wanted to ask your advice,' she added silently. "Besides," she continued aloud, "I wanted to tell you how 'Macbeth' went."

Eric gave her another of those searching looks, as if he'd guessed she had another reason for being there. "OK," was all he said, smiling a little. "So, how did it go?"

The next half an hour passed in inconsequential conversation. Francie found herself babbling about the performance to the middles, Herr Laubach and anything else she could think of rather than the one topic she really wanted to talk about. Eric listened attentively, but as she ran out of topics, he said,

"So, what's up?"

"Up?" Francie echoed, suddenly feeling unaccountably nervous.

"There's something bothering you," Eric answered.

"Oh." Francie looked down at her lap. How had he guessed?

"C'mon," he said gently, "I'm not gonna bite, whatever it is."

A faint smile crossed Francie's face at that. "It's not that," she said, "it's just, oh I don't know. It's difficult."

"School stuff?" Eric asked. Francie nodded. "Well, I may not know too much about my own school days right now, but I figure whatever the problem is, it won't look quite so bad if you talk to someone."

Francie heaved a gusty sigh. "You're probably right." This was what she had wanted, why was this suddenly so hard?

"Just start from the beginning," Eric advised after an awkward pause.

"I have maths coaching once a week," Francie began, still looking down at her lap. And with that said, the story of the coaching session came out, including what Miss Ashley had said, and then what had occurred the day before. When, as she finally wound down, Eric made no immediate comment, Francie forced herself to look up and was surprised to see him frowning.

The frown disappeared almost as soon as he realised she was looking at him and instead, he smiled reassuringly. "Quite a mess," he observed.

"What can I do?" Francie appealed.

"That's a tough one," Eric admitted. "Here's what I think," he continued. "This Miss Ashley is young, maybe not too experienced. She didn't pick your school as the place she wanted to teach and she's probably struggling to figure out where she fits in." Francie opened her mouth to interject. Eric fixed her with a look. "I don't say she wasn't wrong with what she said, either time. She was." Francie closed her mouth and nodded. "But what I will say is that as hurtful and nasty as her comments were, do you imagine she actually intended them? Any of them?"

Francie considered the question for a few moments. "I don't know," she finally answered. "I don't know her that well. From what some of the St Hilda's girls have said, she does seem to be rather tactless---oh." Francie stopped. "That's what you're getting at, isn't it?"

"Tactless not malicious," Eric agreed. "And just maybe, though it still doesn't make it right, she wasn't expecting to be giving you that coaching session. I'm guessing that maybe she didn't know the stuff was new to you. Like I said, it doesn't make it right but maybe it makes it easier to figure?"

Francie nodded. "But she did say what she said---"

"If I were you," Eric cut in gently, "I'd give what she said to you no more thought. You know she was wrong on every count and that's the end of it."

Francie nodded again. "I will. I feel better just for having told someone," she admitted.

Eric smiled. "Seems reasonable."

"But, what about the rest of it? We've sunk down to the level of the middles!"

Eric chuckled. "You mean you're going around making faces at each other?"

Francie was forced to grin. "Well, not that, maybe. But, otherwise."

"All I can say," said Eric, sobering again, "is it takes time. The damage's been done and no matter how you'd like to, you can't unsay stuff." At that a slight frown crossed his face and for a moment, Francie wondered if he was remembering something, but whatever it was, it vanished as fast as it came. "All you can do is be patient. From the sounds of things, you have a lot of stuff going on; the way I see it, you don't have a whole lot of time to waste holding grudges and keeping up feuds. It'll blow over. Particularly when the pain's a little less raw."

Francie would have liked to have said more, but at that moment, Maeve appeared in the doorway.

"Time's up, huh?" Eric asked.

"Looks like it," Francie replied.

"If we're going to get back before it starts getting dark," Maeve added, offering Eric a smile.

"Makes sense." Eric smiled back. "See you next weekend?" he added to Francie, who had started to stand up.

Francie nodded. "If I can." In memory of the weekend before, she added, "Weather permitting, of course!"

Eric chuckled. "Of course."

 

#59:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 10:15 pm

Thanks for another great instalment, Ray. I am enjoying finding out more about Francie.

 

#60:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 11:44 pm

Eric's a very perceptive guy.

Thanks Ray.

 

#61:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sun Jun 26, 2005 3:48 am

Thanks, Ray!
I like the way Eric's shaping up. Very Happy
Nice of Maeve to think of a visit.

 

#62:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Jun 26, 2005 10:00 am

Thanks Ray

Eric is very perceptive - I'm glad Francie could talk to him.

Liz

 

#63:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 7:57 am

ooooh I like Eric - he sounds very sensible

will he turn out to be a doctor by any chance?!

*very intrigued by the whole Eric mystery*

 

#64:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 9:03 am

Nice to know that Francie has someone she can talk to! Eric seems to have his head well screwed on.

 

#65:  Author: Sophoife, Location: down under Down Under PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 8:19 pm

Hurrah again! Another Ray drabble back! And it's Francie... Very Happy

 

#66:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 8:35 pm

I've just read two chapters, lovely to catch up.

 

#67:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 10:22 pm

I've just played catch up on several posts and It's steaming along beautifully, Ray.

I like the way you're keeping very true to the book but with extras. Francie's point of view on the feud is fascinating. I did have my doubts about Eric, especially as he is such a mystery but he's got a good head on him and has been just what Francie needed.

OK! I've caught up so you can post som more as soon as you like Wink

 

#68:  Author: *Aletea*, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Jun 28, 2005 9:32 am

*sigh*


I lo9ve Eric...

 

#69:  Author: Sophoife, Location: down under Down Under PostPosted: Thu Jul 14, 2005 2:07 pm

BUMP

 

#70:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Sun Jul 17, 2005 11:44 am

*joins in the bouncing*

Raaaaaaaaaaay!

 

#71:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:04 pm

Appologies for the lengthy gap in posting. I've been struggling with this chapter - in fact, I've had about six different chapter nines written at various stages, and I haven't liked any of them until now!

The good news is, chapter ten should be rather quicker, now I know where I'm going once more!

Chapter 9

The day of half term excursions passed off safely and harmlessly. Francie had returned to the school after visiting Eric to discover that the two sixths would be going to Fribourg for their excursion. And, though the excitement had been rather muted, the trip was enjoyable.

Having given Eric's words considerable thought over the weekend, Francie decided to act on them and so, when Mary was looking around for a partner in Fribourg, Francie stepped forward and offered her arm. Perhaps predictably, Len and one or two of the other, cooler, heads in VIB followed suit and by the time they were ensconced on the coach for the return trip, the hostilities were over within the form.

It seemed as if they were actually over within the rest of the school too and a full week passed by in complete peace.

"Must be unusual," Eric commented when Francie visited him the following weekend.

Francie chuckled. "It is rather," she agreed. "Though I expect the staff think it makes a nice change."

Eric smiled. "And how are you getting on with that math stuff?"

"Improving, I suppose," she replied. "Prim talked me through the examples I got the other week and Miss Wilmot's shown me through another four or five." She smiled wryly. "Something tells me I'm not cut out for higher maths, though."

"Not everybody is." Eric was frowning in concentration, a look that Francie was coming to recognise as indicating some scrap of memory returning. She waited, hoping it was going to be meaningful. Finally Eric's face relaxed and he groaned.

"What was it?" Francie asked.

"Something about higher maths and me, but it was gone before I could grab onto it." Eric sighed.

"Is remembering whether or not you can do differential maths a good thing?" Francie enquired, trying to lighten his mood.

Eric sighed again. "I guess it doesn't matter. I'd just like to be able to know something about myself. Just one thing."

"It'll come back. You just have to give it a little time," Francie responded.

"How much time?" Eric shot back, irritation and frustration ripe in his voice. Francie winced. "I've been here nearly a month and all I remember is random stuff. I don't know who I am!"

Francie winced again. "I'm sorry. I--- Perhaps I'd better go." She stood up.

It was Eric's turn to wince. "Listen to me. You're trying to help and all I'm doing is biting your head off for it. It's just---"

"Just?"

"I'm scared. What if I never remember?" Eric's tone sounded so lost and broken that Francie knew she couldn't walk out.

Slowly, she retook her seat, wracking her brains for an answer, and then the words came to her. "Then this is a chance for you to start again." She paused. More words presented themselves. "Perhaps you don't know who you were, but you can decide who you will be. You've got a blank slate to write a new life on."

"What about my friends? Family?"

"The San authorities are looking for them," Francie answered, though privately, she wondered how a whole month could go by with no-one even expressing an interest in Eric outside of the school and the staff at the San. If nothing else, why hadn't Eric's military unit come looking for him? "And in the meantime," she continued, "you've gained a set of new friends here."

Eric sighed. "I guess."

His casual dismissal of the idea of new friends settled like a lead weight in the pit of Francie's stomach. She stood once more. "Perhaps I had better go," she said tightly, and turned towards the door.

"I'm sorry." Eric's words were soft.

Francie didn't trust herself to reply.

~*~

Over the next week, Francie brooded on the discussion she'd had with Eric. It wasn't so much the brief outburst of temper that bothered her. She could understand that. She could understand his fears, too. A month was a long time to have heard no word from friends or family, and surely someone had known Eric was here before he lost his memory? What bothered her was his rejection of the idea of new friends. Was she that dislikable?

Not even the arrival of the Nativity play and some of Anna's special greengage jam was quite enough to drag Francie from her worries. The rest of the sixth form found her distant, the staff found her distracted, while more than one middle found themselves on the wrong side of her tongue.

And then, on the Friday, something happened that thoroughly shook the black mood from Francie's shoulders completely.

 

#72:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:14 pm

It's great to see this back, Ray - thanks! I hope Francie and Ray can work things out.

 

#73:  Author: Squirrel, Location: St-Andrews or Dunfermline PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:19 pm

Oh poor Eri, and Francie thinking that he meant that. It's understandable that she would think that way.

I'm glad something distracts her, and possibly, later on, someone will be able to help her realize that when you have lost part of your life like that, it is big enough to make you wonder about the stability of anything.

Especially if his friends have not been looking for him. After that length of time it must seem that they don't care. I can see him finding it difficult to trust anyone feeling like that.

Thanks Ray

 

#74:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:26 pm

I suppose if he's in some form of special operations, his family & friends are probably used to going some time without hearing from him. Though why his unit aren't looking for him is a mystery to me!

 

#75:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:34 pm

Yay! Thanks Ray.

 

#76:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 9:42 pm

Thanks Ray

*wondering what happened on Friday*

Liz

 

#77:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 10:22 pm

LizB wrote:
Thanks Ray

*wondering what happened on Friday*

Liz

Same here! It doesn't sound quite like what I'm thinking from Feud - or maybe it does.

Poor Francie, feeling so rejected -- and poor Eric as well.

 

#78:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 11:46 pm


See; I SAID the next chapter would be quicker *grin* And no, the happenings herein aren't from Feud - though there is more from Feud to be included, that's not going to be for at least another chapter or two.

With many grateful thanks to Liz for taking a quick look over this and saving me from my idiot typos...


Chapter Ten

"Letters for you," Len called as Francie entered the Prefects' room to collect her belongings for the day ahead.

Francie blinked blankly at Len. "Pardon?"

Len smiled. "Letters. Two of them. Sitting on the letter slab waiting for you," she explained.

Francie blinked. "Two?"

At this, Len chuckled. "Yes. As in more than one but less than three. Honestly, what did you think I meant?"

For the first time in a week, Francie laughed. "Sorry, Len. I was miles away."

"Clearly." Len hesitated a moment. "Is everything OK?" she asked.

With a start, Francie realised she had probably not been all that much fun to be around most of the week. 'And I think I may have been the most awful goop about it all,' she realised. "It hasn't been," she admitted. "And I think I've been a fearful idiot."

Len raised her eyebrows at such a frank statement. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Francie glanced at her watch as she reached for her pen and scribbler. "I don't think there's time now; could I talk to you at break?"

Len nodded. "Of course." She smiled. "Any time."

Francie smiled in response to Len's answer and then headed out of the Prefects' room and down to the letter slab, where sure enough, there were two letters waiting for her. Picking them up, she found that one was from her step-mother, which she'd expected. The other wasn't stamped, or even properly addressed, the envelope simply said: Miss F. Wiliford, The Chalet School. She frowned. Who on earth would be writing to her like that? Flipping the envelope over, there was no return address on the back, which made it even stranger.

She glanced at her watch. She just about had time to take a quick squizz at it before the bell would sound for the beginning of class. Stuffing her step-mother's letter into her blazer pocket to read later, in the afternoon rest period, Francie carefully opened the mystery envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper filled with very clear, elegant looking script. Curiosity got the better of her and she skipped to the bottom of the page to find that instead of signing the letter, the author had written their initials: EM.

For a second, she was puzzled. Then it dawned on her that the correspondent would have to be Eric. Now even more curious, she returned to the top of the page and began to read:

Dear Francie,
I think, perhaps, I've just learned the first thing about who I was and I'm not sure I care too much for it. I've clearly got a mean tongue and a nasty temper. I am very, very sorry for what I said on Saturday. As worried and afraid as I am about my situation, I shouldn't have taken it out on you, particularly when you were trying to help me out.
I've been kicking myself since Saturday for being such an idiot, and I hope that you can forgive me.
I will try my best to make sure it doesn't happen again. And if it does, you're more than welcome to yell back and call me on it.
Hopefully yours,
EM
PS The oddest thing happened when I wrote the word 'try' – I immediately found myself thinking "do or do not; there is no try". I don't suppose you have any idea what that might mean?

Francie folded the note up and tucked it back into its envelope, smiling. She had no idea what the postscript meant, but the rest of the note, combined with her own realisations, made her feel better. Things would be all right. Then the bell rang, recalling her to the fact that if she wasn't careful, she was going to be horribly late for French.

Luck, however, was on Francie's side this morning and she reached her form room and contrived to be in her seat before Mlle arrived, though she was very conscious of the wide eyed gaze Len and several others were giving her at her rather tardy arrival.

~*~

At break, Francie and Len were fated not to have their conversation, courtesy of a promising scrap between two members of the lower third who had reached for the same mug of cocoa. As the nearest prefects, they had intervened before either child could spill hot cocoa over themselves or break the mug, and by the time they'd finished attending to the morals of Freda Kendal and Nita Tarengo, they had barely enough time to get to their next lessons.

The rest of the morning offered no other chances for discussion, and it wasn't until the rest period that Francie even felt she had time to draw a breath, so filled had lessons been, while Mittagessen had seen her spend most of her time refereeing the mis-deeds of Jack, Wanda and one or two other promising characters of the same set. It was almost a wonder Francie had been able to actually finish her own meal!

Nor was the rest period any chance for her to speak to Len as talking was strictly forbidden. So after sharing a wry smile with the eldest Maynard triplet, Francie drew out the thick epistle her step-mother had sent and began to read it.

Dear Francie,
I'm sorry that it has taken me quite so long to write to you, but we have been in the midst of some upheaval here and at various times, it has been so chaotic I haven't been terribly sure if I was standing on my head or my heels!
Congratulations on your half term results. From all you've said, Len Maynard has a true gift for languages so being within two marks of her in both French and German is a real achievement. And you're doing so well in every other subject, too. I know your parents would have been very proud.

Here, Francie had to pause to blink back a few tears. She didn't often think about her parents, having no memories at all of her mother and only a precious few of her father, but when she did, her frequent thought was to wonder what they would say about her various doings and she always felt a little shot of comfort whenever her step-mother suggested they would have been pleased.

And now to the heart of what this letter is about. Robert's firm have sent him out to America to oversee the opening of three or four new branches and to generally act as area manager there until they can have someone fully trained for the role. It's a year long appointment, and he went at the beginning of this month as it was urgent that he get there as soon as possible. I will be joining him at the end of the month, once I've finished arranging for Heron Cottage and dealing with the last loose ends here. The difficulty is what to do with you.
The obvious answer is that you come out to America for the holidays. The problem with that is Robert and I will not have a permanent base. We will be moving around the country quite a bit and it makes no sense for us to take a house, so we shall be living out of hotel rooms for the most part. Also, I believe the journey to America from Switzerland would be nothing short of a nightmare and I would not feel happy at you doing it on your own. So that is ruled out, at least for Christmas, and most likely for Easter too.
The other obvious answer, of course, would be to withdraw you from school and have you come to America too, but given that you are sixteen and are currently going very well with your studies, I don't want to disrupt your studies for just one year. Perhaps, if you were younger, I might consider it, or if we were to be in America for longer. But as it is only one year and the one that leads up to some important exams Robert and I agreed that was the one thing we wouldn't do.
Heron Cottage will be let for the year. I don't suppose you remember the Tatums (they were friends of your father's), but they will be our tenants for the year. Unfortunately, they have a young daughter, Marjorie, who's been ill with Polio. Their doctor's recommended that she have a complete rest cure and Heron Cottage seems to be the very place.
I know that you would be very good to her if you were there for the holidays, but the poor child is painfully shy and withdrawn. Also, the nearest holidays, at Christmas, will come so very soon after she's been forced through the upheaval of moving and the Tatums think that Marjorie should have no other disturbances just then.

Francie found herself nodding at that. She remembered vividly how shy Cherry Christie had been to start off with, and then later, some of the odd things that Cherry had said about having Polio and the aftermath. 'Poor kiddie. No, I certainly couldn't go home at Christmas,' she mused. 'But what am I to do instead?'

I will be giving the Tatums your school's address, and should Marjorie improve as they hope, they would be delighted to have you home for some, if not all, of the summer holidays. In the mean time, I have written to your Head Mistress asking her advice. I know, from things you've said, that your school has looked after girls during school holidays on occasion and she has written back to say that, although the school itself will be closed over the holidays, there are plenty of options open to you for the holidays. There are, I believe, a number of old girls and former staff members in the area who would be delighted to have you to stay. I have written back to say that you have my permission to stay with any of them, but I leave it up to you and to her to arrange exactly who.
I am so very sorry that this has come up so close to Christmas. It has been in the wind for a while, but Robert was very much hoping that it would wait at least until January. I promise that Robert and I will make it up to you next Christmas.
Best of luck for the rest of term. I've enclosed the address of the American head office for Robert's firm. They'll be able to pass on any letters to us, wherever we are, and I promise to send postcards whenever I can. But for feeling as if I'm letting you down, I do believe I might quite enjoy this trip.
Love, Mimmsie.

Francie dropped the letter into her lap. Well! Talk about a surprise.

 

#79:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 11:50 pm

Thanks Ray

What a lovely note from Eric *adds him to list of wanted SLOCs*

Hope the changes at home mean that Francie will be able to keep visiting him over the holidays.

Liz

 

#80:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 5:06 am

Thanks Ray. I do like *your* Francie!

 

#81:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 7:24 am

I hope Francie is able to help Marjorie by telling her about Cherry. Mimmsie is such a nice thing for Francie to call her stepmother. I googled what Eric said - intriging!

 

#82:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 9:29 am

Thanks Ray

 

#83:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 10:43 am

Brilliant to see this back Ray - hope you can keep up the current rate of posting Wink

 

#84:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 11:20 am

I'm glad Francie will have people to stay with. Did her stepmother marry her father, then her father died, so her stepmother married her stepfather?

 

#85:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 7:32 pm

Thanks Ray, a lovely two chapters to read - glad the bunny is back and biting!

 

#86:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Sun Aug 21, 2005 9:26 pm

Eek! Poor Francie, and poor Eric, come to that!

Good to see this back!

 

#87:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Aug 22, 2005 8:44 am

Thank you Ray. Good to see more of this - I like this Francie and am intrigued by Eric.

 

#88:  Author: BethC, Location: Worcester, UK PostPosted: Tue Aug 23, 2005 10:07 pm

It's really good to see this back - thank you, Ray!

 

#89:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2005 12:13 am

Awwww thanks Ray - I do hope Francie and Eric get a chance to make up properly

Chair, Francie's situation is explained in Chapter 1 or 2.....but you've pretty much got it

 

#90:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2005 11:19 am

Just caught up on this again, Ray. This wonderful. Thanks.

 

#91:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 4:10 pm

Francie's story is actually related (by EBD!) in chapter 2 of Ruey, which is available in transcript form if you've not read it.

Apologies over the delay in this chapter. My plan is to post a chapter a week, on Fridays, until this is finished, so you can expect the next chapter a week today! Honest!

Chapter Eleven

As the bell rang, heralding the end of the rest period, Francie carefully refolded her step-mother's letter still feeling stunned.

"Is everything all right?" Ruey asked as she passed.

"I think so," Francie answered, standing up. "I'm not quite sure!"

"You look a bit as if you weren't," Ruey agreed.

Whether she would have said more or not was something that Francie never learned because at that moment, Miss Dene appeared in Hall and made straight for her.

"Miss Annersley would like to see you for Kaffee und Kuchen," Miss Dene stated, smiling.

"Yes, Miss Dene." And yet again, Francie flashed on her conscience, searching for a mis-deed that would require such a summons. Then it occurred to her that Miss Annersley was probably going to discuss the Christmas holidays, and she felt a mix of relief and embarrassment at her automatic assumption.

Ruey's eyebrows climbed up her brow almost of their own accord as Miss Dene left Hall again. "What on earth…?"

Francie chuckled. "If there's time, I'll explain before Abendessen," she promised. Glancing at her watch, she added, "Hadn't you better cut along to art?"

Ruey uttered a squawk. "Is it that time already? Help!"

"I'll see to your deckchair," Francie promised.

Tossing a quick, "Thanks!" over her shoulder, Ruey took off like a scalded cat, leaving Francie to chuckle as she put away both deckchairs and headed off to the library to work on a couple of essays.

~*~

Duly at sixteen o'clock, when the bell sounded for Kaffee und Kuchen, and after a quick check that she was quite presentable, Francie made her way to the Head's study and politely knocked on the door.

"Entrez," answered a voice.

Not without some trepidation, Francie entered the study. Miss Annersley was seated at her desk, looking over some papers, but as Francie entered, she looked up and offered Francie.

"Thank you for coming," she began. "Just take a seat and I will ring for Kaffee."

Francie did as she was bidden and took up a seat on the small sofa in the corner of the study, as Miss Annersley rang the bell to summon Migi. A moment or two later and the maid arrived bearing a tray of cakes, fancy-bread and coffee which she set down on a low table just in front of the sofa.

Miss Annersley came and joined Francie on the sofa and for a few moments, it almost felt, to Francie, as if she were at home sharing tea with her step-mother.

Once the both had cups of coffee, however, Miss Annersley said, "I believe you now know about your step-father's trip to America?"

Francie nodded. "Yes, Miss Annersley."

"Your step-mother has asked the school to look after you for the Christmas holidays, and also the Easter and, possibly, the summer holidays as well." Francie nodded again. "She has also said that you may choose who you stay with, since the school will be closed during the Christmas break." Miss Annersley paused to sip her coffee. "I suspect that it won't surprise you to know that Mrs Maynard has said you are very welcome to stay with her over Christmas."

Francie wasn't surprised. She had spent a couple of the longer half-term holidays with the Maynards as a guest of Ruey and the Triplets and had found Joey to be a wonderful host on those occasions. On the other hand, as an only child, the prospect of spending Christmas with the entire Maynard clan was a daunting prospect.

Miss Annersley smiled, probably guessing her thoughts. "Alternatively, Mme Courvoisier and Mrs Graves have both offered you a place to stay for Christmas, and both Miss Wilson and I would be delighted for you to spend Christmas with either of us, though neither of us would be offended should you turn us down!"

Francie blushed. "Thank you," she murmured. She couldn't quite imagine spending Christmas with either Miss Annersley or Miss Wilson, particularly the latter, with whom she'd had a love-hate relationship over the years.

The idea of staying with Hilary Graves or Biddy Courvoisier did appeal, but both had small children and she couldn't imagine either of them would have particularly quiet Christmases any more than Joey would! Of course, the small children did apply to the Maynards, too, but there, at least, she would also be amongst some contemporaries in the shape of the triplets and Ruey. And she suspected that if things did get too much for her, Joey would probably have some hideyhole she could take refuge in.

"I think," Francie finally managed, "that I would like to stay with Mrs Maynard."

 

#92:  Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 4:30 pm

Thank you Ray!!
Looking forward to next Friday! Wink

 

#93:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 4:33 pm

Hurrah! More Francie - and the promise of more to come Mexican Wave

Thanks Ray.

Glad so many people were willing to invite Francie for the holidays and hope she has a great time with the Maynards with a retreat if she needs it.

Liz

 

#94:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 5:56 pm

poor Francie! I think I'd find Christmas with the Maynards quite a scary prospect and I'm not an only child. I hope she'll be ok there.

THanks for posting this Ray - I'll be looking forwward to next Friday

 

#95:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 6:19 pm

Thank you, Ray.

Poor Francie. What a decision to have to make!

 

#96:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 6:58 pm

Cannot imagine Francie wanting to spend Christmas with either of the Heads! She is far to close to her 'bad' days! Laughing

Thanks Ray.

 

#97:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 09, 2005 10:15 pm

Thanks, Ray. You've given me a reason to look forward to next Friday! I'm glad Francie is going to stay with the Maynards for Christmas.

 

#98:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Sep 12, 2005 11:28 am

Thank you Ray.

 

#99:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Mon Sep 12, 2005 7:17 pm

I love that Mrs Maynard is the least bad option, not the best option as I'm sure Jo would asssume herself to be! But I think Francie's right to go there.

 

#100:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 16, 2005 10:46 pm

It's still just about Friday!

Chapter 12

"So that's that," Francie finished. She had been explaining to a select audience of Len, Con, Margot and Ruey what the Christmas holidays were going to hold.

"And quite enough, I should think," said Ruey with a grin.

"Definitely enough," agreed Len.

"It's going to make Christmas a little weird," Margot observed. "For you, I mean," she added hastily as everyone opened their mouths to complain at the apparently selfish statement. "I mean," she continued, "Christmas is a bit of a scrum in a family like ours and…"

"And I am a one and only," Francie finished, offering the now blushing Margot a grin. "It'll be different, I know that."

"And they say that I have no tact," Con complained. "Really, Margot!"

Poor Margot could go no redder.

"Well, I think it's going to be fun," said Ruey decisively. "And Auntie Joey's sure to have some good schemes for the hols, too."

Francie had been a little concerned that Margot, at least, might react badly to her joining them for Christmas, so for Ruey's reaction to be the main one was a relief. And with that news broken, Con, Margot and Ruey drifted away from the group, leaving Len, who was looking concerned.

"You are all right?" she asked. "Margot certainly didn't mean to be rude."

Francie chuckled. "Oh, I know that all right. And she is right; it is going to be strange. But a nice kind of strange. I think?" she ended on a doubtful note.

Len chuckled. "It'll be all right, and it's not so much of a scrum, really. And there are quiet places to go if you need to. No-one could live with the noise all the time!"

Francie smiled and for a few moments there was silence between them.

"Do you still want to talk?" Len asked presently.

Francie chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I think, maybe." She glanced around the common room, but no-one was paying either her or Len any attention. "May I ask you a question?" Looking puzzled, Len nodded nevertheless. "Am I dislikeable?"

Francie watched as Len's eyes shot open wide. "What on earth?" she began in stunned tones. "Why ever?"

And under the prompting of that half formed question, Francie slowly told the story of the disagreement she and Eric had suffered the previous weekend, including Eric's note. "And I know he's apologised, but still, I do wonder."

"Well you can stop that," said Len decidedly. "You aren't dislikeable, so get that idea out of your head."

"Oh, but…"

"No buts." Len was firm. "If you were going to mention your temper, don't. No-one's all that nice when they're cross. You should meet me when Steve's done something maddening. Even Margot can't beat me when I get going."

Francie raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You have a temper?"

Len just rolled her eyes. "Yes, I do. All three of us do." Francie remained dubious. "Anyway. My point is, the real you – not the you in a temper – is a very, very nice person and one I'm pleased to have as a friend. As for Eric," Len continued, "it sounds like he's already realised he was an idiot last weekend. Though," she added shrewdly, "I don't imagine for one second he meant he thought you were unpleasant or anything of that sort. When people are upset they don't necessarily think terribly clearly." Francie blushed as she recalled her own reactions when in a temper and knew the truth of Len's statement. "You'll see him tomorrow?" Francie nodded dumbly. "Then I should talk it through with him and then push it out of your mind."

"I'll try," Francie promised.

 

#101:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Sep 16, 2005 10:50 pm

Hey!! Have discovered a new bit of Francie before I go to bed - you were only just squeeking in there, Ray!!!!

Thank you - love Margot's comment.

 

#102:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Fri Sep 16, 2005 11:21 pm

Ooooooooooooh

I'd forgotton it was Friday and I'd forgotten we were promised Friday updates - thankyou Ray for that
Poor Margot Laughing

Mexican Wave

 

#103:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Sep 17, 2005 11:18 pm

Thanks, Ray. I understood what Margot meant straightaway - I'm glad nobody was offended by her comment.

 

#104:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Sep 18, 2005 11:49 am

Very Happy Thanks Ray.

*g* at Francie's reaction to Len having a temper!

 

#105:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Sun Sep 18, 2005 12:34 pm

Love Len's reaction to Francie's question - she was so sensitive and sensible.

Thanks, Ray.

 

#106:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sun Sep 18, 2005 10:28 pm

Yay!!!
Thank you Ray!!
Love Margot's foot-in-mouth episode, and Francie's shock at Len's claim of a temper!

 

#107:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Sep 18, 2005 11:42 pm

Lovely Very Happy

Thanks Ray

Liz

 

#108:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Mon Sep 19, 2005 8:27 am

Oh dear, now that is some case of foot-in-mouth! Smile

Good to see Len at her most helpful best Smile

 

#109:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Sep 19, 2005 9:46 am

Thank you Ray. Glad Len could tell Francie not to be silly and *g* at Margot!

 

#110:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 10:23 pm

Apologies about missing last week - I hit a small patch of writer's block and then a migrane (note to self: chocolate rulade is better admired than eaten), and while all that was rather, ah, irritating, it did mean that I came back this week with fresh eyes...and the bunny decided to take me off in a direction I was totally not expecting to go in! It also means that this part is rather longer than the last couple.

Many thanks to Liz for looking over both this and the last chapter and keeping me from my poor typing!

Chapter 13

But as luck would have it, Francie's best-laid plans came to nothing. It began raining during the night and continued raining persistently for the next few days, preventing anyone from going outside. Even when it wasn't raining, only the primmest forms of walks were possible thanks to the inevitable seas of mud everywhere. Then, on the Wednesday, a strong north wind blew up. It shrieked and howled around the Platz all day and most of the night, but by the following morning, it had died down and the mud had dried out so lessons were cut in favour of long walks and rambles to take advantage of the good weather.

The following day, too, featured abbreviated lessons, with the whole school having an early lunch so as to make best use of the pleasant afternoon. Francie and Mary, however, sought permission to go to the San.

"Just make sure you're back before Kaffee und Kuchen," Miss Derwent warned them as she gave them consent for the trip.

"Yes, Miss Derwent," Francie promised. And soon after that, both she and Mary were heading rapidly across the Platz.

At the door of the San, they parted. Mary wanted to speak to Miss Holroyd about something, while Francie made her way along to the ward where Eric was being treated. She was mindful of her promise to Len and as she walked, she tried to martial her thoughts into proper coherence. But all that was undone as she walked into the ward and received a shock.

"You're sitting up!" she exclaimed.

Eric chuckled. "You make it sound like I'm not allowed to be," he said.

Francie blushed. "I'm sorry; that didn't come out quite right. It was just a surprise." She swallowed and tried to regain a little of her self-possession as she took up her customary seat beside Eric's bed. "This must mean you're getting better."

Eric nodded. "I guess I am. In fact," he added, "the docs here think I might be well enough to leave here for Christmas."

"Really?" Francie smiled. "That's wonderful news."

Eric grinned. "Have to admit, I did wonder if I was going to be stuck here for the holidays; but I guess even that wouldn't have been so bad. Dr Graves said they always do something special for the patients who're stuck here."

Francie had never given the matter of what the San patients did during Christmas any thought, but there was something so natural about the idea of the San authorities organising some sort of holiday event for the patients that she wasn't in the least surprised.

"I won't be going home, though," Eric continued, a frown crossing his face. "At least, not unless some sorta miracle takes place."

Francie winced. "So what will you be doing?" she asked.

"Dr and Mrs Maynard have offered me a place to stay over Christmas."

Francie couldn't help but giggle at this news. At Eric's questioning look, she explained her own Christmas plans and he grinned.

"Sounds like it'll be a fun Christmas, then," he said.

"I think it will be," Francie agreed. "Though, I have to admit, the idea of staying with so many people does rather scare me."

"Oh?" Eric lifted his eyebrows.

"I'm an only child," Francie admitted. "And I don't, really, have much in the way of close family." She glanced down at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Eric offered.

Francie looked back up, smiling a little. "That's just it," she replied. "I never have talked about it. Len guesses; I think so do Con and Margot. Ruey knows some of it, but the whole story? I've never told anyone." She looked back down at her hands. "And blamed everyone for it." Francie looked up again. Eric's expression was unreadable. "Ridiculous, I know."

"Ridiculous, maybe, but also very human," Eric answered. "What happened?"

Francie sighed. "I never knew my mother. She died when I was born. And then the war started. My father worked for Ransomes Sims and Jeffries," at Eric's blank look, she added, "they manufacture farm machinery. Specifically, he knew everything there was to know about most forms of farm machinery and he was one of only two people in the whole of Suffolk who knew how to set a plough, which meant that he was put on the reserved list and not called up." Eric nodded. "He met Mimsie, my step-mother, when I was two. She was working on one of the farms in the area, as part of the war effort, and my father helped her to fix one of the ploughs on the farm.

"They got married when I was four. My father wanted to try and give me a proper home life, I think, and Mimsie was -- is -- wonderful. It never made a difference to her that I was someone else's daughter, that I wasn't her baby. And then my father was killed.

"It was just after VJ Day. I was six, only a little babe. I shouldn't remember it; but I do. Father had gone to Horning to see to some machinery. Mimsie and I were at home. There was a knock on the door and I, thinking it was my father, ran to open it. Instead, it was a policeman. He asked to see Mimsie and I was sent out to the garden to play."

"What had happened?" Eric asked softly.

"It was a sailing accident. There's a river running through Horning. Father's clients had taken him across to the Swan Inn for lunch. Something happened on the return trip." Francie shrugged a little. "He drowned."

Silence ruled for a few moments as Francie reordered her thoughts.

"It was a strange time," she finally continued. "I was sad, but I was more sad for Mimsie than I was for me. I didn't really know my father. He'd been a vague presence in my life, but he was always busy. I knew Mimsie far better, and I could see she was sad and she missed him. I don't know if that makes even the remotest sense."

"It does," said Eric softly.

"For nearly four full years after that, it was just me and Mimsie, which I loved. I had her whole attention, and she had mine. And, I suppose, I thought that was how it was always going to be. I got such a shock when Mimsie introduced Robert Vigors to me and told me that he was going to be my new daddy." Francie leaned forwards and rested her elbows on her knees. "I hated it. And him. And I spared no effort in letting them both know." She looked up at Eric. "You must think I'm the most self-centred person alive."

Eric surprised her by shaking his head. "You were ten," he said. "How were you supposed to react to having something like that sprung on you?"

Francie smiled faintly. "Better than I did," she said. "He, Robert, spent most of the first year he was married to Mimsie trying to get to know me, and I would have none of it. I was rude, spiteful and bad tempered. The whole reason I ended up at the Chalet School was because neither he nor Mimsie could cope with me and my behaviour."

"And I'll bet you thought Mimsie was sending you away because she didn't want you any more," said Eric shrewdly.

Francie blushed and ducked her head. "I know now. We talked, last Christmas. But then..." she trailed off in embarrassment.

"And how else could you have reacted?" Eric asked. "You said it yourself; you were just a kid. Kids aren't notorious for their powers of understanding. I'm not saying that what you did was right," he continued. "It wasn't. But you know that now, so cut yourself some slack."

"But I can't make that time up."

"No." Eric's simple agreement startled Francie. "But you can stop letting that time hang over your head. I'm betting any amount of money you like that you're the only person still holding it against you."

That bald statement brought Francie up short. "I suppose I am," she admitted.

"Then maybe it's time you quit it," said Eric firmly.

The echo of Len's assertions from the week before made Francie smile. "I'll try."

"Do or do not, there is no try," Eric responded with a faint grin. "I have no idea where that comes from, but it's great advice."

Francie chuckled, almost despite herself. "It is," she agreed. "I wish I could help you with where it's from, but I don't recognise it at all."

"It was a bit of a long shot asking," he sighed. "It, ah, feels like a quote from something. A movie or, maybe a television programme."

"Maybe."

"As far as Christmas goes," Eric continued, "I don't think, if I were you, I'd be too worried about it. I met Mrs Maynard this morning, and she struck me as being the sort of person who can give you exactly what you need without you ever needing to ask. Plus, there'll be Len, Con and Margot, and me," he finished a little shyly.

Francie smiled. His description of Joey was perfect. "True."

"Perhaps," Eric added, even more shyly, "if there's snow---"

"There will be," Francie cut in. "In fact, we'll probably have some between now and the end of term, though that may or may not settle properly."

Eric grinned. "Then, if Dr Graves says I'm fit enough, how about some skiing lessons?"

"Maybe," Francie answered, blushing.

Sparing her from needing to make any further response, Mary poked her head around the door. "I suppose you realise that we're on duty for Kaffee?" she asked.

Francie blinked, looked down at her watch and uttered a squeak of dismay.

"Time to go, huh?" Eric asked.

"Afraid so," said Mary as Francie got to her feet.

"And we're going to have to simply race back if we're not to be in hot water," Francie added.

Eric pulled a face. "Be careful," he warned. "As much company as you are, I sure don't want to see you cos you're in the beds next door."

Mary grinned. "Oh, we shouldn't do that; it's a straight enough road back. The trick will be if we can beat the middles to Kaffee und Kuchen."

"Well, good luck," said Eric.

"Thanks," Francie answered.

And with a promise to visit the following week, weather permitting, Francie and Mary started back towards the school.

 

#111:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 10:35 pm

Awwww, that was lovely, Ray - Eric is such a sweetie - and gives very good advice.

Thanks.

 

#112:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 11:05 pm

Lovely Ray - thank you

Eric has lots of common sense - and hopefully Francie will now be able to let go of her past and move on unhindered by itl.

Liz

 

#113:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 12:06 am

Another reason to be happy it's Friday. Very Happy
Thanks, Ray!

(That quote makes me even more suspicious about Eric's origins, though....)

 

#114:  Author: Caroline OSullivan, Location: Reading, Berkshire, UK PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 8:09 am

Ray wrote:
Quote:
My father worked for Ransomes Sims and Jeffries," at Eric's blank look, she added, "they manufacture farm machinery.


Yay for the Fox Busters. I haven't read it for ages but recognised the names straight away.

Thank you Ray Very Happy

 

#115:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 4:30 pm

Thank you Ray - this promises to be an interesting Christmas!

 

#116:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 5:21 pm

Thank you Ray!

Looking forward to the christmas scenes, and wanting to hug the little Francie!

 

#117:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Oct 01, 2005 9:03 pm

Thanks, Ray. I'm glad Eric is going to the Maynards' for Christmas and Francie was able to open up to him.

 

#118:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 12:33 pm

Ray wrote:

"Do or do not, there is no try," Eric responded with a faint grin. "I have no idea where that comes from, but it's great advice."


Bit ahead of his time, isn't he? ;)

I love this friendship between them Smile And I'm glad Francie has someone she can really talk to, who gives great avice Smile

 

#119:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Oct 02, 2005 5:21 pm

Lovely, Ray. Thanks. Very Happy

 

#120:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Oct 03, 2005 10:11 am

Great. Thank you Ray.

 

#121:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:16 am

An early post today for various reasons. This *was* supposed to be the final post, but the best laid plans of mice and men usually don't come to pass and there's actually going to be two more! Also, a small warning: I have played a little fast and loose with EBD's timeline (again).

Chapter 14

As it turned out, both Francie and Mary made it back to the school in plenty of time for Kaffee und Kuchen as the meal was late. One of the ramble parties had become delayed thanks to a rapidly descending fog and only made it back by dint of very careful navigation by the mistresses in charge of the party.

The fog proved to be thick and lasting. It stayed for nearly a full week, which meant no going out at all. The lessons that had been missed the previous week were made up and extra play rehearsals were held, but by the middle of the week, the middles were spoiling for trouble again.

"At least it's not that silly feud," Mary observed.

"No," Len agreed, "but they were extremely restless in prep. They're up to something."

"Who is?" Ros asked as she walked into the prefects' room in time to hear Len's statement.

"Lower IV," said Francie.

"Whatever it is, then," said Ros decidedly, "you can be assured it will be something original."

"That," said Len with a groan, "is rather what I'm afraid of."

"One thing's for sure," said Mary thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone will be playing at Shakespeare for a long while!"

Those present all giggled at the idea.

"Not with the way Miss Annersley dealt with the sinners," said Francie chuckling. "She had me writhing and all I'd done was catch them red handed." She finished with a grin.

"Literally!" said Len.

That sally drew forth more laughter. It wasn't often that the middles' escapades managed to so thoroughly amuse their seniors, but the whole concept was a novel one and in a far too emotional term, anything that provoked a laugh rather than either tears or anger was appreciated.

"So what should we do about them this time?" Francie asked presently.

"I'm not sure there is anything we can do," said Len morosely.

"Except keep better tabs on them and hope this fog lifts soon," added Mary. "I'm sure that all that's up with them is a lack of fresh air."

There was much wisdom in this statement and as the bell for Abendessen rang at that moment, the conversation was put to rest. As it turned out, however, the only way the prefects would have been able to prevent the next piece of naughtiness would have been to baby-sit Lower IV for the rest of the evening.

The first Francie knew of it was at Frühstück the following morning when no fewer than ten of the more enterprising members of Lower IVb seemed to have lost their appetites. Jack and Valerie both refused a third roll when it was offered, while Gillie simply played with her second. Kitty seemed to be making heavy weather of her cup of coffee and of the rolls she had declined all bar her first. Mary, Wanda and Anne both managed to choke down three rolls but couldn't be induced to have any more. Arda and Renata managed to distinguish themselves by declining both second cups of coffee and additional rolls while Barbara, the normally reliable form prefect, had to be threatened with a trip to Matron before she would accept any Frühstück at all!

For a few moments, Francie actively considered reporting the whole boiling to Matron anyway on the grounds that for such a collection of them to have lost their appetites could only mean one thing, and that was that the school was in for an epidemic of some sort. Then the conversation of the previous evening prompted her to reconsider. All ten were demons of mischief when the mood took them. 'They've been up to something,' she decided, placidly spreading honey on her fifth roll – if the middles were prepared to starve themselves, she certainly wasn't! 'And now they've done the deed, they're waiting for the consequences. I wonder what they've been up to?'

Francie didn't have long to wait for the answer to her question. As the meal drew to a close, Miss Annersley struck her little bell twice. She had an announcement to make. To Francie's amusement, all ten went bright scarlet and then deathly pale.

The Head Mistress stood and said, "One moment, girls. I wish to know which girls painted golden syrup over the doors in the passage leading to the kitchens last night."

It would have been a statement fit to make most people laugh under any circumstances, regardless of the implied mischief, but Francie was faced with the beauty of ten utterly stunned expressions. She bit her lip, determined not to give the culprits any idea of thinking they'd done something clever as they slowly clambered to their feet.

"C'est moi, Madame," they murmured, all of them scarlet faced and staring fixedly at the tablecloth.

Just when Francie thought she might be able to escape without laughing, though, Miss Ashley uttered a sound so weird and wonderful that Francie bit through her lip. And then little Carlotta von Eschenau put the seal on proceedings by announcing, "Oh, c'est un loup qui est so us la table!"

Francie had no idea why Carlotta thought their was a wolf in the room, but that did it as far as her self-control was concerned, and she started to laugh, as did everyone else. The ten turned even redder, although the colour of Carlotta's face was amply rivalling the sinners' faces and no doubt her playmates would tell her all about making such statements at a later date.

Eventually, Miss Annersley struck her bell for silence and she more or less received it, but even her self-control was struggling as she pronounced that the ten should see her once their dormitory duties were finished, missing out on the walks that would, with the lifting of the fog, be taking place that morning. Then she called for Grace, much to Francie's relief, and a few moments later she was able to make her escape from the Speisesaal.

"I said it would be something original," said Ros as the prefects assembled for their walk.

"Original was just not in it!" said Monica Caird with feeling. "I thought I was going to expire trying not to laugh."

"And you," said Francie pointedly, "weren't sharing a table with the whole lot of them." Then she chuckled. "Though you should have seen their faces when Miss Annersley told them it was golden syrup!"

"I should think they were a positive picture," said Mary with a grin.

"Oh, they were. They certainly were."

"What do you suppose they were trying to do?" Maeve wondered. "For I simply cannot see them deciding to golden syrup the doors just for sheer devilment."

"Gaudenz was oiling some of the doors yesterday," said Monica Gastin. "If I know Gillie, she probably thought she was helping."

"Jack, too," said Len, belatedly joining the party. "Are we ready?"

"We were just waiting for you," said Lizette. "You were a long time in coming," she added, with some reason, for Len was nearly five minutes late.

Len grinned. "Jack and company were being rather slow over their dormitory work. And if I know my Jack, she probably thought the doors needed varnish."

That prompted another round of giggles from the school grandees.

"But how can you mistake varnish for syrup?" asked Mary as they began their walk.

"There," said Len, "you have me. But I'm positive that's what they thought it was."

And, as they learned later, Len was absolutely correct in her guess, and the middles had added yet another story to the annals of the school.

 

#122:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:25 am

Laughing Thanks Ray

Liz

 

#123:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:14 am

Brilliant Ray! And just like Francie, I was having to bit my lip because there were people watching! Though admittedly, they're not middles.

 

#124:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:11 am

Wonderful. Thank you Ray!

 

#125:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 4:36 pm

Excellent!!!

I can just imagine the little darlings' faces!!

 

#126:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:33 pm

(Just why did Carlotta say that? Does anyone know if more explanation is given in the hard-back?)

 

#127:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:54 pm

I don't know why she does - but any explanation would be appreciated!

 

#128:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:10 pm

So realistic that - the Prefects and Staff having severe difficulty staying stern when faced with something like that! Laughing

Thanks Ray - glad this hasn't finished yet!

 

#129:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:25 pm

Thanks, Ray. I'm glad there will be more of this story.

 

#130:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 3:37 pm

Good thing it's not the final post, given the unsolved mystery...

But very amusing. Very Happy

 

#131:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 11:13 pm

Did I say this was going to be the last post? I was wrong. *sigh* The things bunnies do to you when you're not looking. Apologies about this being a little late - though as far as I'm concerned, it's still Friday *nid*

Chapter 15

The term was rapidly speeding towards its conclusion now. As December began, so did the snow. Two days of heavy blizzard was followed by an overnight hard frost and the following day, St Hilda's were introduced to the joys of winter sporting.

"Ouf!" Mary exclaimed as she went head-over-heels for the second time in as many minutes. "I shall never get the hang of this!"

Francie, who was helping her find her balance, just chuckled. "I think everyone says that at first. I know I certainly did."

"You? Never!" said Mary with decision as she regained her feet.

"Francie never what?" asked Monica Caird as she drew level with them.

"Never said that she wouldn't be able to ski," said Mary.

Monica chuckled. "Well, she could ski quite decently when I joined the school," she said. "But I did hear of something that happened the term before."

Mary looked suspiciously from Monica to Francie, who was both blushing and smiling, and back. "Oh?" was all Mary said.

"I caught the tip of my ski in a snag," Francie explained, "and turned a cartwheel."

Mary goggled. "Is this a have?" she demanded.

"Not a sniff of one," said Francie. "Though, mine wasn't the only attempt at gymnastics on that particular day. But you'll have to get Margot to tell you about Emmy's efforts."

"You really did a cartwheel?"

"I certainly did."

Mary shook her head in disbelief.

"Come on," Monica urged. "Have another go. Francie, you might go and give Len and Prim a hand with Jack and company."

"Can do," Francie agreed, and she started off across the meadow to where Len and Primrose were attempting to teach a bevy of St Hilda's middles how to ski, hindered considerably by Jack and her gang's efforts at helping.

It was a crisp, cloudless morning and the run across the meadow provided Francie with a clear view of how beautiful the whole scene looked with the sunlight glittering off the frozen snow. It was the kind of sight that made her feel generally glad to be alive. When she'd been a middle, it had let her forget her troubles; now it just seemed to confirm how silly she'd been when she was younger.

"Quit holding your past against you." Eric's words floated through her mind and made Francie grin. He really did have a point. Though it wasn't an easy thing to simply stop.

"Look out!"

The yelp drew Francie back to the present with a bang. Looking round, she saw the cause, Freda Kendal, tumbling rapidly into her path. With a complicated muscular effort, Francie swerved to the right to avoid the junior middle, but as she did so, the tip of her left ski caught on some unseen snag and before she could truly register that, over she went.

The snow was iron hard, thanks to the frost, and Francie landed hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs, but the discomfort of that was quickly overridden by throbbing pain in her wrist and head. Dimly, she realised that she must have banged her head as she landed.

"OK, Francie, just lie still for a moment."

Miss Burnett's voice seemed rather distant, Francie noted, although by dint of squinting briefly she realised that the Mistress was crouching beside her. She didn't have time to wonder at that, however, as the next moment, she felt someone easing off her skis and it was all she could do not to cry out as every movement seemed to jar either her arm or her head.

"It looks as though she landed on her head and then arm."

Dr Maynard's voice surprised Francie, though he seemed to be even further away than Miss Burnett. Another quick squint told her otherwise, which made no sense.

"Francie?" Dr Maynard was actually talking to her now, rather than Miss Burnett. "We're going to lift you onto a toboggan so that we can move you. All right?"

"Yes." At least, that's what Francie tried to say, though what came out sounded like little more than an incoherent mumble.

Dr Maynard and Miss Burnett clearly took it as a positive, for the next moment, Francie felt herself being gently lifted up. That, though, brought on a sudden blast of pain through her arm. She gave a short, sharp cry and then mercifully, everything went black.

~*~

"Now," said Eric severely, "didn't I warn you I didn't want to see you in the next bed over?"

Francie managed a weak chuckle. "I'm not in the next bed over."

"No," Eric agreed. "But you are in the next room."

It was two days later and apart from a broken arm and an outsize lump on her head, Francie was none the worse for wear after her tumble. She would, later that day, be leaving the San and returning to school; the San authorities finally satisfied that she had come to no lasting harm. She would have actually returned the day before, but for a blizzard, which most effectively prevented any non-essential travel on the Platz.

"I can't argue with that," Francie admitted.

"So what happened?" Eric asked. "I got quite a surprise when Nurse told me I could come visit you instead of the other way round today."

Francie grinned a little sheepishly and explained. "It probably wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been day dreaming," she finished.

"It also wouldn't have happened if that kid had been paying a bit more attention, too," Eric pointed out.

"I suppose. Though I am the one who's supposed to know how to ski already; this is Freda's first term." She gave another sheepish grin. "It was an accident."

Eric nodded. "Seems like a fair description to me."

"Though," Francie added meditatively, "I'd love to know what Freda was trying to achieve."

"Oh?"

"She looked all arms and legs. A veritable spider on skis."

Eric grinned. "What an image."

"Not one you want to have coming straight towards you, either!" Francie chuckled. "At least Mary knows now I'm not the all-perfect skier."

"Bit of a long way to go to make a point, though?"

"Definitely." Francie glanced down at the plaster cast encasing her left arm. "And I'm now thoroughly out of the Nativity Play, too. I was supposed to be playing a middle ages Lady of the Manor. I can hardly do that with a very twentieth century cast on my arm."

"Won't it be off by then?" Eric asked.

Francie shook her head. "The play comes off in two and a half weeks' time; I have to wear the cast for four weeks." Eric winced. "Still, it could have been worse."

"That," said Eric, "is certainly true."

At that moment, Nurse arrived to return Eric to his own room so that Francie could dress and prepare to leave.

"Will you be along next week?" Eric asked.

"Unlikely," Francie admitted. "I doubt Matey's going to let me have more than the primmest form of walk for the rest of term, just in case."

"In that case," said Eric with a smile, having been well informed of Matey's methods and manner, "I guess I'll probably see you at Christmas."

"Or maybe the Nativity Play?"

Eric grinned. "If I'm let out for that."

"You won't be if you don't start getting back to your own room now," snorted Nurse, though Francie thought there was a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke.

"Yes, ma'am." And meekly, Eric left.

 

#132:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 11:35 pm

Wonderful - Thanks Ray Very Happy

So glad it's not the last post *sends more bunny treats* Wink

Liz

 

#133:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 11:44 pm

*agrees with Liz*

Poor old Francie, though!

 

#134:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 8:18 am

Yay! *celebrates the fact there will be more*

Thanks Ray, and poor Francie

 

#135:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 11:49 am

Thanks, Francie. It's a shame about Francie's accident but at least she got to see Eric!

 

#136:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 12:43 pm

Yikes! Great post though, Ray! Nice how she ended up near Eric Smile

*also glad this isn't the last post*

 

#137:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 3:27 pm

Thanks Ray!
Poor Francie, although it could have been much worse!

 

#138:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Mon Oct 17, 2005 11:01 am

*g* poor Francie. Glad this hasn't finished quite yet...thank you Ray.

 

#139:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Tue Oct 18, 2005 5:11 pm

*g* I do like Eric!

Thanks, ray. Very Happy

 

#140:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 21, 2005 11:16 pm

A little late tonight, but it's finally done. Many thanks to Liz for looking over this part - and saving me from my typos Smile

Chapter 16

The rest of the term passed without trouble, as far as Francie was concerned – Jack and Gillie's rescue of Minette from the roof being something that occurred while she was ensconced at the San and, as a result, she only got to hear about it much later – though she was proved completely correct in her judgement of what Matey would and would not permit her to do. As it turned out, that was less of a hardship than it might have been as the frost and snow thawed only a few days after her return from the San; something that caused sundry St Hilda's girls to complain at the loss of winter sporting and made those who had lived in the region for a while completely unsurprised. As Len said, it was rather early for that kind of snow.

Francie was also correct that she was out of the Nativity Play, though Miss Ferrars contrived to keep her involved by dint of employing her as a runner during the weeks of rehearsals. The day of the performance, however, saw her joining Barbara Chester, the Tredgold twins and one or two other worthies from St Mildred's acting as a program seller, which left her feeling rather odd-man-outish. With the exception of the school orchestra and a handful of juniors, who were under the watchful gaze of Miss Andrews, she was the only member of the school proper to be front-of-house, and she couldn't help but feel just a fraction resentful.

"Mary-Lou, Verity and Naomi!" Barbara's exclamation pulled her from her brooding. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

"Mother's staying at Unter die Kiefern," Mary-Lou explained.

"She was going to come too," Verity added, "but she's not feeling very well."

Francie was a little surprised when a grave expression crossed Mary-Lou's face, even as the older girl replied, "So we three will be giving her a report when we get back." Then, with a more cheerful smile on her face, she added, "And, just what are you doing here, Francie? Surely you're not a Millie just yet?"

Francie waved her free hand at the sling her left arm had been put into by Matron only that morning. "Skiing accident," she said succinctly.

Mary-Lou winced.

"It was quite impressive," Naomi put in contemplatively, "by the account Maeve gave me."

Francie blushed.

"I think we're in the fairway," Barbara said, glancing over her shoulder and seeing a couple of people looking impatient to get to their seats. "We'll have to catch up afterwards."

"Of course." Mary-Lou grinned. "See you later." And with that, she, Verity and Naomi departed to find their seats.

Francie turned back to Barbara, intending to ask what she should be doing, only to be distracted once more, this time by Freda Kendall.

"Please, Francie," she began timidly, "Miss Ferrars would like to see you."

Francie gave her junior a considering stare, debating whether or not Freda was up to monkey tricks. She decided it was unlikely. "Where is she?"

"In the middle dressing room," Freda answered. Then she hesitated before adding, "I'm awf'ly sorry."

A more unconventional apology, it was hard to imagine. It took Francie a moment to realise quite what Freda meant. When recognition dawned, she was then hard pushed not to grin. "It's all right; it was an accident."

Freda's head dipped. "Sorry," she mumbled again. And then she shot off, back towards Miss Andrews.

With a quick explanation to Barbara, Francie made her way backstage and found Miss Ferrars looking decidedly frazzled and worn.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Ferrars?" Francie said.

"Ah, good." Miss Ferrars' expression relaxed a little. "I need you to be prompter for the first two scenes, and possibly more."

"Me?" said Francie blankly. "I thought…"

"Miss Derwent had to return to the school to collect some props that people managed to leave there this morning. She's just rung to say she's been delayed and you're the only person available to take on prompter's duties."

"Oh." There wasn't a lot more to be said. Miss Ferrars handed over the master copy of the script and moments later, Francie found herself seated in the prompter's corner.

Len and Ros, who were peeking out at the audience, both gave Francie a startled look on spotting her.

"What are you doing there?" Len asked.

"Getting ready to prompt," said Francie with a grin.

"I thought Miss Derwent was doing that," said Ros.

Francie shrugged. "Ask me another. Miss Ferrars asked me to do it. She said something about Miss Derwent having to go back to school."

There was time for no more as Wanda von Eschenau's arrival heralded the first of the performers in the opening scenes. Len and Ros, neither of whom were on until later in the play, left the stage, muttering a quiet, "Good luck," to Francie as they went.

Barely moments later, or so it seemed to Francie, Miss Ferrars was clearing the stage, of anyone not involved with the first scene. And a moment later still, the play began.

It quickly dawned on Francie just why Miss Ferrars had asked her, rather than any of the other members of staff to stand in as prompt. She was the only person, Miss Ferrars and Miss Derwent aside, who had seen the whole play. Everyone else involved had been focussed solely on the episode they were producing. 'It would have been chaos if we'd been swapping prompters at the end of each episode!' Francie realised, midway through the second carol. 'Small wonder Miss Ferrars was looking as if she was at the end of her tether!'

Midway through the third episode, Miss Derwent arrived in the prompter's corner, but when, at the end of the scene, Francie made to stand up, the senior mistress shook her head.

"We're nearly half way through," Miss Derwent murmured softly. "No sense in disrupting everyone; you're doing a fine job."

So Francie found herself prompting for the rest of the performance. Not that she had much to do; most of the actresses were word perfect. The only person who wasn't quite was Mary Murrell, who had been the understudy for Francie's part and who, consequently, hadn't had quite as much time as everyone else to learn her lines, and even she only required one prompt, just at the beginning of that episode.

As the curtain came down for the final time, though, Francie heaved a sigh of relief. She started to stand up, only to find herself face to face with Miss Ashley. Ever since the fateful maths coaching session just before half term, Francie had done her best to avoid the young mistress, and since Miss Ashley did not, officially, teach any of Francie's classes, that hadn't been terribly hard to do.

"May I speak to you for a moment?" Miss Ashley asked, and Francie thought she could detect a hint of nervousness in the mistress' voice. Dumbly, Francie nodded. "I think I owe you quite an apology." It was comfortably the last thing Francie had been expecting to hear. Consequently, it was only with some effort that her jaw didn't immediately gape open. "I was extremely rude to you earlier in the term and it was completely uncalled for. I've made quite a few mistakes this term, I hope that I can do better next term, and that we can start afresh."

"Of course." The words were out before Francie had consciously thought about the matter, but as soon as she'd said them, she realised that she meant them. Besides, given her own history, who was she to turn down that kind of apology?

Miss Ashley smiled. "Good. And, thank you."

As Miss Ashley departed, Francie once again started to stand up. This time, she found herself face to face with Len, who had already changed out of her costume.

"I want a cup of coffee!" Francie complained, the grin on her face taking any sting from her words.

Len chuckled. "Like that, is it?"

"It's a long story," Francie confessed.

"Miss Annersley sent me to find you," Len continued, "she's waiting in the small dressing room."

Not for the first time, Francie briefly wondered what she'd done to deserve a summons. "Oh?" was all she said. "Why?"

Len spread her hands in a wide shrug. "The Head didn't unburden herself to me; if you go, you'll find out."

Pulling a most reprehensible grimace at her friend, Francie asked, "Am I presentable?"

Len nodded, and Francie headed for the smallest of the dressing rooms. She hesitated a moment, debating whether to knock. With an internal shrug, she decided that politeness never hurt and she gently rapped her knuckles against the door.

"Come in."

Francie did as she was bidden, and found Miss Annersley speaking with Père Franz. But even as she entered, he nodded and took his leave. Miss Annersley smiled.

"No need to look quite so worried, Francie, my dear." Francie did her best to wipe the worried expression from her face, aware that she was only partly successful. "I just wanted to ask you how you have felt your first term as a prefect has been."

"It's been---" Francie hesitated a moment, caught off guard by the question. "It's been a little of everything," she finally settled on. "Some things, I could have done without." She glanced down at the sling and then back at Miss Annersley, who was smiling still. "But even with those, I've enjoyed it."

"Good," said Miss Annersley. "Let us hope that next term provides a little less in the way of excitement!"


To be continued in Mistletoe and Wine. Eventually ;)

 

#141:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 21, 2005 11:59 pm

Thanks Ray

A lovely end to the term Very Happy

Looking forward eagerly to Mistletoe and Wine - we won't have to wait until December for it will we?

Liz *wanders off humming*

 

#142:  Author: tiffinata, Location: melbourne, australia PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 5:36 am

Looking forward to it Ray!

 

#143:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 5:55 am

Thanks Ray, that was great. Looking forward to 'Mistletoe and Wine'

Razz

 

#144:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 8:52 am

Thannk you Ray! A lovely end and I much look forward to seeing Mistletoe and Wine!

 

#145:  Author: macyrose, Location: Great White North (Canada) PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 9:08 am

Does the title Mistletoe and Wine hint at a romance between Francie and Eric?

 

#146:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 10:15 am

Thanks, Francie. I'm sorry to see the drabble end. Did Eric come to the Nativity Play? Thanks so much for writing it and I look forward to reading 'Mistletoe and Wine'.

 

#147:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 10:55 am

Excellent, Ray! Look forward to the sequel! Smile

 

#148:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 3:05 pm

Thanks Ray, lovely end to the term - pleased Miss Ashby apologised- she needed to! Also pleased Francie enjoyed the term and has done so well.

Looking forward to the sequel. Laughing

 

#149:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 4:54 pm

Wonderful Ray. I've really enjoyed this and you've changed my view of Francie forever!

Looking forward to the sequel. Very Happy

 

#150:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 5:26 pm

Thank you, Ray! I was wondering how all the loose ends could be tied up in a few posts....

*looks forward to sequel* Very Happy

 

#151:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Sun Oct 23, 2005 2:36 pm

What a lovely ending Ray!

I hope *eventually* doesn't mean we have to wait too long for the sequel. I'm desparate to know what happens next.

Thank you - it's been a fabulous drabble.

 

#152:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sun Oct 23, 2005 3:40 pm

Thank you Ray!!!
Looking forward to Mistletoe and Wine!

 

#153:  Author: Ray, Location: Bristol, England PostPosted: Sun Oct 23, 2005 6:27 pm

Thank you Smile I'm very glad that everyone's enjoyed it - it's been fun to write, and what I've got planned should be just as fun Twisted Evil

To answer a few questions:
1) Mistletoe and Wine will be starting in December for two reasons. First, I'm doing NaNoWriMo, which means writing [or at least trying to write!] a 50,000 word novel in a month - which is where most of my attention will be during November. Second, as the title and timing might imply, it's a Christmas story, so I'm trying to be vaguely seasonal with when I post it. *grin*
2) By eventually, I mean December 2nd (which is the first Friday in December). I will be keeping up the posting on Fridays.
3) Is the title an indicator of romance, yes. Between Francie and Eric? Well, that would be telling Twisted Evil

Hope that all makes sense Smile

And thank you again Smile

Ray *Smile*

 

#154:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Sun Oct 23, 2005 11:46 pm

Thanks Ray - I've really enjoyed this and am so looking forward to Mistletoe and Wine

Roll on Dec 2nd

 

#155:  Author: Miss Di, Location: Newcastle, NSW PostPosted: Wed Oct 26, 2005 6:50 am

Wot Dawn Said.

I've just read this from start to stop and it's been great.

 

#156:  Author: claireM, Location: rotherham PostPosted: Wed Oct 26, 2005 8:46 pm

Just read this and really enjoyed it, looking foreward to the next one.

 

The CBB -> St Agnes's House


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