-- 
“There’s just one problem that I can see,” put in Evadne, who rather liked the idea of Matron Besley with green hair. “How are you going to get your brothers to help us, without letting them know what we’re up to?”

Susan considered this, it certainly could be a problem, but she rather thought Edmund might see reason. “I don’t think Peter would approve; he’s the oldest, but I should think we we’ll be able to persuade Edmund for some help. He’s always up for a bit of fun anyhow.” Susan still felt a bit resentful that Peter had not sprung to her defence earlier, when Jo and Miss Wilson had treated her as though she were a Junior Middle (forgetting that she seemed to have regressed in age to one!). She was remembering that Edmund had been known as a troublemaker at school, the term before they had found themselves in Narnia. She didn’t stop to think that Edmund had changed a lot because of his experiences in Narnia.

Cornelia (knowing nothing of these undercurrents) grinned. “Ok then, so it sounds like we’ve got a plan. Now, it will probably take a few days to get going, so I vote that we all lay low for a bit and avoid the woman as much as possible until then. That way, we should stay out of trouble with her and Bill and the others are less likely to suspect it’s anything to do with us.”

The others agreed and they settled down to planning further ways and means of reforming Matron Besley. Some of these were wildly impractical, ranging from Kitty Burnett’s suggestion that they kidnap her in the middle of the night and lock her in the school boatshed, to Joyce’s suggestion that they put glue all around the inside of her hat so that it stuck fast to her head! It was perhaps fortunate for Matron Besley, if not for the Middles, that Jo Bettany chose this moment to erupt into the common room.

“What do you lot think you are doing? Didn’t you hear the bell for Abendessen? We’ve been waiting for you all for 5 minutes. Bill is furious. Get into your lines AT ONCE and you can all take an order mark!”

The Middles grumbled and some of them, including Susan, scowled blackly, but they formed themselves into one line and marched off to Abendessen, where they had to endure a lecture from Bill on the importance of punctuality. However, as most of them, especially Cornelia, Evadne and Joyce, were more or less used to being lectured, it left no lasting impression, and they settled down to devour their tea, all of them being ravenous by this time. Susan was especially hungry. She hadn’t had much to eat at the meal Miss Wilson had ordered for the four of them and she rather thought that the last time she had eaten much of anything had been back in Narnia, the early breakfast she and the others had had before they set off to pursue the white stag. Usually very picky about her food, she thought nothing of the unusual continental food and attacked her servings with great vigour. None of the others seemed to notice anything unusual – they were all eating the same way!

Susan decided that being younger wasn’t so bad after all. She remembered enough about the behaviour of some of the Middles at her old school that this was the age where most of the pranks were played. Some of the girls she was sitting with looked like they were ripe for that kind of mischief. She decided that she was going to take life easy at this new school. After all, lessons should be easy for her, she had already covered it all when she was a Middle, several years ago. So, seeing as she was condemned to being a Middle again, she determined to coast along in lessons and get as much fun out of it as she could.

“We’re trilingual here at the Chalet School. We have to speak different languages on different days. Today is french day, tomorrow will be german. We can speak any language we like on Sundays. Don’t worry if you can’t follow at first, it happened to all of us. You’ll soon pick it up and Mademoiselle will organise extra coaching for you if you need it.” Joyce followed up this explanation with a quiet word with Miss Stewart, who was sitting at the end of their table. Miss Stewart listened to what Joyce had to say and then nodded. Joyce returned to her place and announced “you others, we’re to speak English for the rest of the meal, so that Susan can follow what’s happening. Tomorrow though,” this to Susan “you’ll have to try and follow the language for the day. Miss Stewart is jolly decent though.” Susan thought so too and gratefully joined in the conversation that now continued around her.

(Note, Miss Stewart’s indulgence was more for my benefit than for Susan’s. I’m too tired to try and put some french sentences together.)

Lucy’s experience over at the main house was somewhat different. Nervous about fitting in with a group of girls so much older than herself, she was surprised to find that the Seniors accepted her without question as a contemporary and made her feel very welcome. Lucy felt herself drawn most particularly to Anne and to Gillian, both of whom went out of their way to make the new girl feel at home. Both, without understanding why, sensed Lucy’s nervousness and tried to help her settle in and feel comfortable. Lucy was grateful for this, and when it came time to go and unpack her truck, after Abendessen, both Anne and Gillian offered to accompany her. Lucy accepted the offers thankfully, as she was more than a little nervous of Matey. She had yet to discover that Matey’s bark was worse than her bite and that her rather stern exterior hid a truly compassionate person.

The three girls entered Matey’s room, to discover that the trunk was already unlocked and the lid thrown open ready for unpacking.

“Come along girls,” said Matey briskly. “Your trunk seems to have been packed sensibly and I’m pleased to see that all the items have been labelled correctly Lucy. Just make sure that you take everything out neatly and use the baskets. Hurry up girls, Gaudenz is waiting to take the trunks up to the attic.”

Obediently, the girls knelt down by the trunk to begin the task of unpacking. Curiously, Lucy began to remove garments from inside and handed them to Gillian to place on the first tray. Everything had been neatly labelled with her name and everything seemed to be the correct size for her new age. Nothing was missing, even the Chalet School uniform had been packed. Lucy continued to unpack and discovered some of her personal items at the bottom of the trunk. Photographs of her parents and some personal trinkets from her bedroom had been included. Lucy choked back the tears and laid them in the last basket, on top of the rest of her clothing. Matey checked the trunk to see that nothing had been left out and nodded.

“Well done girls. You can go now and take the baskets with you. Anne, see that you show her the correct way to put those things in her drawers please.” Anne nodded and the girls left the room and headed for the dormitory to put the things away. They were silent as they walked. Lucy was overcome with emotion at seeing her things from home and Gillian and Anne, sensing her feelings, were tactfully silent.

When all three had returned to the Senior common room, Lucy was jolted out of her reverie by Gillian’s cry of “Jo!”. Lucy saw that Jo Bettany, was standing in a group of others in the middle of the room.
 

“We’ve got a new girl for our form this term Jo. This is Lucy Pevensie. Lucy, this is our head girl, Jo Bettany.” There was a slight pause, then Jo (remembering her recent encounter with Matron Besley) stuck out her hand coldly. “Nice to meet you Lucy. I hope you’ll like it here.” The other Seniors glanced at one another, unable to understand Jo’s attitude. They all thought the new Senior very nice and felt sorry for Lucy’s obvious embarassment in the face of Jo’s obvious dislike. Another girl, pretty and fair-haired stepped forward, as the silence threatened to become awkward. 

“It is nice to meet you Lucy,” she said in prettily accented french, which Lucy found to her surprise she had no trouble following. “I am Frieda Mensch, the Second Prefect and these are Marie Von Eschenau, Games Captain and Simone Lecoutier, one of the other prefects. We take our meals and sleep over at St Clares, which is the Middle House of the Chalet School. We are only over here for lessons. That is why Gillian was surprised to see us.”

Lucy smiled at Frieda and replied (in fluent french, much to her own surprise) “thank you Frieda, I like it here very much.”

“Come on Frieda,” broke in Jo, rather abruptly. “It’s time for our meeting. See you later, you others,” and she turned away from the group and left the room, followed by Simone and Marie. Frieda smiled apologetically at Lucy and left to follow, along with some of the other prefects. Anne and Gillian raised their eyebrows at eachother, but made no comment. Anne had experienced Jo’s outbursts before and Gillian, while surprised at the Head Girl’s attitude, was a little too much in awe of her to criticise her behaviour to another girl, especially a new one. Lucy was hurt. Why did Jo dislike her so much?

Anne, seeing her discomfort, was quick to begin a discussion on some of the district’s landmarks, and in asking questions of Anne and Gillian about the unfamiliar place names, Lucy was soon laughing and chattering with the rest. The conversation was soon running along more general lines and the other girls discovered that Lucy was good company, with a quick mind and an emormous stock of witty repartee. 

When they finally scattered to their respective dormitories that night, Lucy felt relieved that she seemed to be fitting in all right with the other girls. She still didn’t understand why Jo had taken a disliking to her, but sensibly decided not to let it worry her too much. Perhaps she would not have too much to do with Jo aside from lessons. After all, everything else seemed to be relatively normal; she had everything she needed for school and no-one knew of her rather irregular arrival. Lucy snuggled down under her fluffy plumeau and fell asleep, tired out by the day’s adventures, only to dream vaguely of the lovely trees of Narnia, the talking Beasts who had befriended them in their early days there, and of Aslan, the great lion. 

In her dream, Aslan was calling her by name. Lucy began to run towards him, just as she had that glad morning when she and Susan realised that he was not dead. She awoke with a start to find a hand shaking her shoulder and stared up at a rather exasperated Anne. 

“Goodness, you were sleeping like the dead. Get up sleepyhead, I’ve been calling you for ages. You’re second bath, after me, so get yourself ready, so you can fly when I come out. See to her Gill, won’t you?” and she was gone, flying from the room towards the bathrooms. Lucy stared after her in bewilderment, but she was not left long to ponder what Anne had meant, as Gillian now entered Lucy’s cubicle kindly, but briskly. She  wasted no time on words, as she hustled Lucy out of bed, stripped back the covers, humped up the mattress and flung the cubicle curtains up over the railings. She then bundled up Lucy’s bath things, thrusting the hairbrush into her hand and propelled her towards the correct bathroom, just as Anne came hurtling out of it, twisting up her brown locks as she went. 

Unfortunately, Susan had not fared quite so well that morning. She had slept soundly and was awoken by Cornelia’s none too gentle hand shaking her shoulder. 

“Susan, stehen auf! Sie sind erstes Bad heute morgen. Beeilen Sie sich oben oder alle wir sind spät!” [With much thanks to KB and babelfish.]

“Whaaat,” gasped Susan in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

“Sprechen Sie auf Deutsch bitte,” ordered Cornelia, who was taking her sheepdog duties very seriously. “Es ist der Tag für sprechenden Deutschen.”

“I don’t understand,” said Susan blankly. “Are you speaking German at me?” To herself, she thought “why can’t I understand what she’s saying. I was quite good at German at my last school.”

“You should say ‘Ich verstehe nicht’: that means ‘I don’t understand’,” said Cornelia sternly. The other girls in the dormitory began to giggle. It was funny to hear the harum scarum Corney being so strict with anyone.

Cornelia repeated her earlier statements in English, as Susan obviously still didn’t understand. “Susan, get up. You’re first bather this morning and if you don’t hurry up we’ll all be late.” Susan remained where she was, staring owlishly at Cornelia. She was not good at waking up in the mornings. Cornelia flung back the covers and tipped Susan unceremoniously onto the floor.

“Owww!” yelled Susan. The floor was hard and very cold.

“Come on,” cried Cornelia, now becoming quite annoyed. “Look, here are your things, come now. You’re holding everyone up!” She bustled Susan out of the room before her, Susan still not quite awake and wondering where they were going. They stopped at a row of three doors a little way down the corridor. Cornelia opened the door of the first one and pushed Susan inside.

Susan began to slowly take off her things, preparatory for climbing into the bath. She did not take kindly to the idea of a cold plunge and decided to run a warm bath for herself. It took some time to get the water to the temperature she preferred and she relaxed into it, oblivious to the banging that was now coming from the outside of the door. Reluctantly, she climbed out, toweled herself off and got dressed, ignoring the tide of water that she had slopped all over the floor from overfilling the bath. She opened the door and was almost bowled over by a furious Evadne, who was bristling with rage on the other side of it.

“Nicht hörten Sie mich, auf der Tür zu schlagen? Sie sind im Badezimmer für 10 Minuten gewesen! Lassen Sie mich innen, für Gütegrund!’’

Susan didn’t understand what Evadne had said, but she got the gist of it and scurried back to her dormitory. She was so fast, she missed Evadne’s shriek as she slipped over in the water Susan had left all over the floor. Evadne was furious. Just wait until she got back to the dormitory. She would let the new girl know what she thought of her selfish behaviour. But there was no time to waste on that now. Evadne flew through her own bath and grumbling under her breath swiftly used towels to clean up Susan’s mess. She was only halfway through when Joyce arrived for her bath, having waited impatiently for her turn. She snapped at Evadne for her tardiness, who snapped back with a will. Joyce stomped inside the bathroom and slammed the door. Evadne made her way back to the dormitory, every curl on her head bristling with rage. She entered the dormitory and made straight for Susan, who was sitting on her bed, dreamily brushing her hair and thinking back to the happy times in Narnia, where she had been (in her mind) the most beautiful queen Narnia had ever seen. Evadne grabbed the brush and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Sie Idiot! Sie halten mich, zu warten, daß 10 Minuten für das Badezimmer und dann Sie bilden, das sehr große Verwirrung ganz über dem Fußboden. Unser vollständiger Schlafsaal wird spät sein jetzt und es ist Ihre ganze Störung!”

Susan just sat there and gaped at Evadne. She did not understand a word she was saying. This enraged Evadne even more and she poured out a torrent of angry German, while the rest of the dormitory stood and stared. Cornelia, who had returned from her own bath, took a hand, forgetting to speak in German, in her surprise.
“I say Evadne, there’ll be a fearful row if you keep on like that. Stop yelling at Susan, we’ve lost heaps of time already.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” yelled Evadne, who had completely lost her head by this time and who was also speaking in English. “She languishes in the bathroom for 10 minutes and leaves the most awful mess in there for me to clean up. Then she comes back here and sits on her bed brushing her hair while the rest of us are trying to get ready.”

Susan was also in a rage by this time. How dared Evadne speak about her like that? She jumped to her feet and was just about to do some yelling of her own, when the door opened again, and there stood the Head Girl, regarding them all sternly.

“Was ist die Bedeutung von diesem? Vor Sie Kinder sollten bereiten mindestens 10 Minuten gewesen sein. Seien Sie schnell und beenden Sie und gehen Sie dann unten zum speisenden Raum. Sie können alles Nehmen eine Auftrag Markierung für Sein spät und Evadne und Cornelia, eine andere Auftrag Markierung zu nehmen für das Sprechen auf englisch.”

Breakfast was not a happy affair. Word had spread of the row in the dormitory and Susan found herself the target of much whispering and pointing. After the meal, Jo led them off to the spasheries and supervised while they washed their hands and faces. The Middles simmered with rage. This had never been done before and they correctly surmised that it was because of the morning’s events. Many black looks were cast at Susan. When all were clean and tidy, Jo marched them over to the Chalet to begin the morning’s lessons. Susan cheered up a little. At least now things should improve. She would show them all, when she shone at lessons. 

Alas for Susan, the day was going to get a lot worse before it got better. To begin with, Jo had woken up with a raging toothache. Rather than go to Matron and get something for the pain, she chose to say nothing, having an unreasonable fear of the dentist. On the way over to the main house, Susan tripped and fell against Jo, sending them both crashing to the ground. The offending tooth throbbed and Jo felt worse than ever. She turned on Susan furiously.

“Warum Sie nicht aufpassen können, wo Sie gehen. Wirklich sind Sie Middles manchmal so childish!”

The other Middles exchanged meaning glances. Clearly, Jo was on the warpath and they all watched their steps the rest of the way over to lessons. Susan was in a rage, for even though she had not understood the German, the meaning of Jo’s scornful tones had been plain enough. After the morning she had already had, this ticking-off from Jo was the last straw. She marched off to her first lesson ready to fight with a feather.

Mademoiselle had decided to place Susan in the same form as Joyce and her contemporaries. Clearly the girl was young for her age in many ways (Mademoiselle had not forgotten the scene in her study) and would be unlikely to be able to cope with work from a higher form. This being the case, Susan discovered that her first lesson was to be mathematics. Susan smiled to herself rather smugly, remembering the words of praise she had received from her teachers last term in this subject. She expected she would have no trouble at all. Unfortunately, Susan had not understood that the lessons were always conducted in the language of the day. When Miss Nalder swept in and greeted the class in German, Susan felt her heart sink. Following some words of instruction from the mistress, the rest of the class got out their books and began to turn to the page she had instructed. Susan was not sure what to do. She whispered to Stacie “what did she say: I can’t understand German.” Stacie, feeling sorry for the new girl, opened her lips to answer, but Miss Nalder was already moving towards them.

“Susan, sprechen bitte auf Deutsch. Wenn Sie eine Frage haben, bitte fragen Sie mich. Sie sollten nicht während der Lektion sprechen.”

Stacie spoke up.

“Fräulein Nalder, Susan spricht nicht irgendwie deutsch. Sie bat mich, zu erklären, was Sie gesagt hatten.”

Miss Nalder nodded and then spoke to Susan. “Susan, I instructed you to open your book at page 234. Please do this now and then we may begin our lesson.” She repeated this in German and encouraged Susan to repeat the German after her. Susan did so reluctantly, but Miss Nalder was not happy with her pronunciation. She had to say the phrase through four times before Miss Nalder was happy with it and then the lesson commenced. Susan was raging at being treated like an ignorant child. She gazed down at the page in front of her and was dismayed to see that the mathematics problems there were very difficult. She felt that she should have been able to understand them, but somehow, she could not quite grasp the mathematics behind them. She chanced a quick look around the room and saw that all her classmates were working quietly at the problems. She wondered if she should ask Miss Nalder for help, but that would probably mean more tedious repetition of the correct German for “I don’t understand,” or the like. Susan set her lips in a stubborn line and set to work to try and make something of the problems before her. As she had no idea what she was doing, the end result would make Miss Nalder tear her hair out in frustration when it came time to mark the work.

“Susan ma petite, pourquoi ne prenez-vous pas en bas du dictat comme les autres filles ? Faites-vous pour ne pas comprendre ce que je dis?”

Susan went bright red as all the other girls turned to stare at her. Kind-hearted Stacie, remembering her early days at the school, swiftly translated Mademoiselle’s words for Susan, under her breath. Susan went even redder and addressed Mademoiselle in English.

“I don’t understand what anyone is saying today. I don’t know any french or german either!” By this time, Susan was very upset. She felt like an idiot in front of the rest of the Middles, and the bad start to the day hadn’t helped either. So although she didn’t mean to be rude, her tone sounded extremely insolent to Mademoiselle. Mademoiselle set her lips in a thin line and addressed Susan again, this time in English.

“I am afraid at this school you are expected to learn both french and german. Now I will repeat my instructions from the beginning of the lesson and you will repeat them after me.” She rattled off the french sentences, explaining their meaning, and bade Susan repeat them. The over-excited girl tried, but could not follow the french. Five times did Mademoiselle repeat the phrases and five times Susan attempted to copy her and failed. In fact, each time it was worse, as Susan became more and more upset. Finally, Mademoiselle Lachenais decided Susan was deliberately defying her and flew into a thorough rage.

“You are a rude, disobedient little girl. Go from the room at once and stand in the corridor for the rest of the lesson. You will have to catch up the work during your free time this afternoon. You will borrow Stacie’s book and copy the work and learn it. Go!,” as Susan tried to protest.

Susan burst into tears and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. The rest of the class sat aghast, no-one daring to say a word. Never had they seen jolly little Mademoiselle in such a temper. All of them felt sorry for Susan, unlike Mademoiselle, they had seen that she had been struggling with the french.

The lesson continued, but no-one enjoyed it much. Mademoiselle snapped at all of them and when Joyce accidentally dropped her pencil case on the floor, scattering the pencils in every direction, Mademoiselle read her such a lecture that even Miss Wilson had never bettered. Joyce flushed red with anger, but knew better than to answer back. Some of the others flashed sympathetic glances at her and everyone was relieved when the bell went for morning break.

“Bilious attack,” said Stacie laconically. “She came into San yesterday when Matey was seeing to me. She must still be sick.”

Stacie thought back over the scene. She remembered her own frustrations when she first came to the Chalet School. She had believed herself to be superior to the other girls, academically, and it had been a great source of frustration when the mistresses had not seemed to share her belief. Now, because of her accident a few terms ago and the resulting weakness in her back, even though she had now been able to return to school, she had been moved down a form, so that she should not strain herself. Stacie sometimes still felt frustrated, although she knew that she largely only had herself to blame. She knew that she was way ahead of all the other girls in her form. She wondered if perhaps she should offer to help the new girl out with her german and french. Stacie had gotten this far in her thinking, when Joyce grabbed her by the arm.

“Hi Stacie, we need to go to Kaffee und Kuchen, or Mademoiselle will really begin to say things. Come on!”

They all filed out of the room, many of them casting sympathetic glances at Susan, who was standing against the wall, sniffing. Her eyes were red, although she was no longer crying. Stacie went up to her.

“Come on old thing,” she said in forbidden english. “Come and have Kaffee und Kuchen with us. You’ll feel better.”

Susan looked up at the friendly tones to meet Stacie’s eyes. She was heartily ashamed of her behaviour that morning, having had ample time to think about it as she stood outside the classroom. She allowed Stacie to lead her along to Kaffee und Kuchen, where a large mug of creamy coffee and a bread twist, soon restored her. She sat quietly in a chair, sipping her coffee and listening to the chatter of the others. Now that she had calmed down she felt so tired and actually would have asked nothing better than to go back to bed. She had rather a headache from all the crying. 

Stacie was watching Susan. She seemed to have dark shadows under her eyes and was rather pale. “Rather like I look when I have a headache,” thought Stacie. She leaned forward and in a low tone asked “have you got a headache Susan?” Susan looked up at Stacie’s concerned face and nodded wordlessly. “Come on,” said Stacie kindly, “I’ll take you to Matey and she’ll look after you.” With a quick word to Carla, the prefect on duty, Stacie led Susan out of the room and upstairs to Matey’s domain where that lady, eyeing Susan sharply, soon had her bundled on a sofa with a light rug thrown over her. She bent over Susan and handed her a glass of warm milk. “Here child,” she said gently. “Drink this and then you go to sleep for a while.” The tired child obediently drank the milk and lay down again. She closed her eyes and was soon asleep, thanks to the draught that Matey had slipped into the milk. After a quick word to Matey, assuring her that she was feeling fine, Stacie left to join her companions.

Note to mods -- I think the trouble happens when the thread gets up to the 6 page mark. Wardrobe was 6 pages when I went to bed last night.
 

Her, if you please (and indeed if you don't)

*considers major surgery*

but then i can't donate blood  :(

The sheep, Vikki, are History's equivalent of Plot Bunnies (sort of History Bunnies, only sheep)

*thinks TEM was just excited*

*thinks the TEM needs to stop kidding herself* You're not that special, hon.

Lucy kept close to Gillian and Anne and was relieved to be assigned a desk in between the two of them. She looked up as Jo, Frieda, Marie and Simone entered the room. These last three smiled at her, but Jo looked away. Lucy noticed that Jo was very pale and holding herself stiffly, as though in pain. Lucy noticed that she was holding her hand to her cheek. “Toothache,” thought Lucy sympathetically. “I know what that feels like.”

Just then Miss Stewart entered the room and all the girls rose politely, Lucy following their lead. The lesson began, Miss Stewart directing the girls to open their textbooks. Lucy had already been supplied with all she needed in the way of books and she quite happily did as she was told. Miss Stewart began to talk to them and Lucy listened attentively and began to take notes, having observed Gillian and Anne doing this. About halfway through the lesson she suddenly realised that Miss Stewart was addressing them in german and she was taking her history notes in what she could only assume was german! She stopped writing and shook her head in astonishment. What in the world was going on? How could she possibly understand german, let alone be writing in it? “This must be Aslan’s doing,” thought Lucy. “But why?” She realised that Miss Stewart had stopped addressing the class and was glaring at her. 

“Lucy,” she said sharply. “Gibt es interessanteres etwas Sie möchte mit uns teilen?” Lucy blushed dark red and hastened to apologise for her inattention. “Ich entschuldige mich, Fräulein Stewart. Ich beachte den Rest der Lektion.” Miss Stewart relented at the new girl’s obvious embarassment and continued with the lesson. Lucy kept her eyes fixed on Miss Stewart and struggled to keep her mind on history for the rest of the lesson. 

The last ten minutes of the lesson were given over to free discussion. Jo generally loved this part of history lessons. She was knowlegable about history, having read extensively and enjoyed the opportunity to argue with her fellow students about various events in history. Miss Stewart generally encouraged these discussions, believing that it helped the girls to reason from cause to effect. Today Jo remained silent. Her tooth was throbbing and she knew that it would end in a vist to Her Von Francius. Her dislike of Lucy had not subsided and she was furious when the new girl joined in the discussion with vim, showing herself to be just as knowlegable as Jo herself. Lucy herself was surprised at how much she was enjoying the lesson. She had always liked history, but Miss Stewart had opened her eyes to a new side of history and the free discussion was helping her to look around all sides of an issue. She was disappointed when the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson. Miss Stewart gathered up her things and departed, after giving out the homework to be prepared for the next lesson.

“Good morning young maidens,” he addressed them courteously. “This morning we shall learn a new song.” Some of the girls giggled at his greeting, although by now they were all used to Mr Denny’s ways. Anne nudged Lucy and hissed “that’s Mr Denny, he takes us for singing.” Lucy nodded and turned her attention to Mr Denny. His gentle courteous ways reminded her of dear Mr Tumnus, from the Narnian days. Lucy was overcome by a sudden wave of homesickness. She could almost hear the wind in the trees, see the sun glinting over the sea surrounding Cair Paravel and see the faces of her dear Narnian friends. How she missed them all.

“Wachen Sie Träumer auf,” whispered Gillian and Lucy became aware that the rest of the class were staring at her. However, Mr Denny had not noticed. He was now handing around a sheaf of paper, music for the new song. Lucy took hers when her turn came and gazed eagerly at the new song. Both she and Susan had learned music at home and had been considered quite good at playing the piano and singing. Mr Denny went to the piano and played the song through. It was an english folk song, reminding Lucy of the songs of the Dryads.  The girls sang the song through together, but all of them stumbled over a troublesome phrase in the music. Mr Denny took them through it patiently, but his patience deserted him as the class continued to stumble through the song, the girls getting more and more nervous as his calm began to desert him. Finally Mr Denny, his eyes sparking, bade each girl stand out in turn to sing the offending phrase though. Lucy waited for her turn, quaking. 

The “first victim,” as Gillian whispered, was Simone. She had a pleasant voice and was a clever girl. She was one of the few who had not struggled over the phrase and she sang it through correctly, slightly appeasing Mr Denny. The next girl was Jo. Normally, singing lessons were a delight to her and Mr Denny. Her voice was being carefully trained and showed great promise. However, Jo’s tooth was now hurting her badly and she was still in a black mood. When she attempted to sing the phrase her tooth gave a nasty twinge. However, she said nothing, preferring to sing badly, rather than risk someone in authority discovering she had a toothache. She had to sing the phrase though six times before Mr Denny was satisfied. The rest of the class were grateful – most of them knew the phrase by the time Jo had finished. Jo returned to her seat, glowering, and it was Lucy’s turn. Mr Denny, thoroughly cross by now, crossed to the piano and instructed her to sing the entire song. The rest of the class gasped and then prepared to stare at the floor, to show their sympathy for Lucy. To their amazement and that of Mr Denny, she opened her mouth and sang the song through perfectly. Her voice was sweet and true. As Lucy sang she seemed to find herself back in Narnia. She remembered how the Dryads had stood beneath the castle windows on fine summer evenings and had sung such songs, many times. Lucy was singing, not to Mr Denny and the Sixth, but to the Dryads, and her voice showed such feeling that there was a kind of stunned silence after she had finished. Lucy took her seat uncertainly, wondering if she had sung badly. She jumped, as the entire class began to clap. Lucy flushed and smiled gratefully. Mr Denny addressed the class. 

“You see, young maidens, this is how I wish you to sing the song. Well done, Miss Pevensie. I see we shall have a new soloist in our Christmas play.” He beamed benignly at Lucy, who was now scarlet with embarassment. 

“Das neue Mädchen hat eine schöne Stimme. Sie schien so traurig, als sie sang. Sie war, wie sie vorstellend sie war irgendwo sonst war.” Simone nodded. She had been struck by Lucy’s lovely voice, but she too had noticed the sadness in Lucy’s eyes when she had sung. She wondered what Lucy had been thinking of. 

“Well, I think she’s a rotten show-off,” grumbled Jo, not bothering to use the correct german. “Did you hear the way she went on in Miss Stewart’s lesson?”

“Sie müssen auf Deutsch, Jo sprechen, sagten Frieda. Das Middles hört, daß Sie und Sie das Hauptmädchen sind.”

“Oh raspberries to that!” retorted Jo rudely, and Nemesis overtook her in the form of Miss Wilson. 

“Sprachen Sie englisches Jo? Sie hatten besser zu gehen, Mademoiselle in ihrer Studie zu sehen. Das Hauptmädchen darf nicht die Richtlinien so schamlos brechen.”

Jo rose from her chair to go to Mademoiselle’s study but Miss Wilson stopped her, noting her pallor and the dark shadows under her eyes. 

“Wait Jo,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you had better go to Matron first.”

Jo departed for Matron’s domain silently, knowing that she could not avoid a visit to the dentist now. Most unjustly, she blamed Lucy for this, forgetting that Matey would probably have discovered her toothache by the end of the day in any case.

Meanwhile at the other end of the room, Lucy was being congratulated on her performance in the singing lesson. 

“You’ll be Plato’s blue-eyed boy now, my child,” said Gillian, risking a remark in english, and getting away with it. “He was positively gaga over your singing this morning.”

“Why do you call him Plato?” enquired Lucy. “Oh he always talks a lot about Plato and those chaps, so Jo thought of the name when he first came,” answered Margia succintly. She had been rather silent up until now, but Lucy had noticed her during the morning’s lessons. She had been absent the previous evening, having had a long music lesson, so Lucy had not met her before. She flashed a matey grin at Lucy and asked “do you play the piano as well Lucy? If so, maybe we can work up some duets some time.” 

“I do,” answered Lucy “and I would love to.” “Great,” began Margia, when Anne interrupted. 

Lucy paid no attention to what the others were saying. She had just caught sight of Susan, sitting with a group of Middles in the middle of the room. She looked miserable. Her eyes were red, as though she had been crying and she was very pale. Lucy was about to go over to her and ask her if she was all right, when another Middle (Lucy remembered her from the previous day) led Susan from the room.

Lucy rose to follow, but Gillian caught her arm. 

“Wohin gehen Sie,” she asked. “Uns werden nicht erlaubt, den Raum ohne Erlaubnis zu verlassen.” Lucy explained that she wanted to go and see if her sister was all right. Gillian thought a moment and then asked Miss Wilson for Lucy to go and look for Susan. Miss Wilson gave it and told Gillian to help Lucy find her. She was probably with Matron. Lucy and Gillian left the room together, bound for Matey’s room. They reached it, to find Susan being tucked up under a rug, her eyes already closing and Stacie just leaving the room. Stacie explained to Lucy about Susan’s headache. She did not reveal what else had gone on that morning, but Lucy had already guessed from Susan’s eyes that there had been storms of some kind. She was just going to ask what had happened when Jo arrived, in no sweet temper. She had been waylaid by Matron Besley, who had come over to the main house to bid Jo come and fix the mess in her drawers, Matron having gone through them that morning, even though the Head Girl was supposed to be exempt from such inspections. Jo finally arrived at Matey’s room and was none to pleased to find Lucy, Gillian and Stacie standing outside it. 

“What are you all doing here?” she asked. “Are you following me, or something?” Gilllian knitted her brows at Jo’s tone, but answered in german “wir waren gerecht, nach Susan, Lucy’s Schwester suchend. Stacie hatte sie der Matrone geholt. Wir sind im Begriff, zum Kaffee und Kuchen zurückzugehen.” 

“Well you’d better get off then,” replied the Head Girl abruptly. Stacie, Gillian and Lucy left at once and did not speak at all on the way back. Gillian was puzzled by Jo’s tone. Both Lucy and Stacie had been on the receiving end of Jo’s bad temper before. Stacie had learned the hard way that to take offence at Jo and lose one’s temper, could only lead to hardship. Lucy was not one to bear a grudge, but it really was starting to seem that the Head Girl was determined to be nasty to her. She decided that she would try and keep out of Jo’s way as much as possible.

The buzz of conversation was cut short by the entrance of Matey to the common room. It transpired that she had decided to do a tooth inspection of every girl, as Jo Bettany would be going down to the dentist the following day. Several Middles were discovered to be in need of Herr Von Francius’s ministrations, but luckily Susan was not one of them. 

Just then, Mademoiselle Lachenais and Miss Nalder appeared to take the Middles for their walk. The girls all partnered up, kindly Stacie keeping Susan with her. She had a feeling that Susan needed an eye kept on her for the present. They turned out of the Chalet School and turned right, heading for the lake. 

Along the way they passed a small chalet. Susan wondered if that was the chalet where her brothers were staying. She turned to stare as they went past and was rewarded by the sight of Edmund and Peter waving to her from a window. Susan forgot where she was and waved back frantically. Unfortunately, in her excitement she suddenly stopped. Cornelia and Evadne, who were following behind and chattering away to one another, failed to notice and bumped into her. Susan clutched at Stacie to prevent herself from falling, but crashed to the ground with a wild yell, followed by Cornelia and Evadne, who landed on top of her. Those Middles who were behind them managed to avoid tripping over the trio and broke into wild giggles. Some of the more sensible among them rushed to assist the trio. Cornelia and Evadne had bumped heads when they fell and both were seeing stars. Susan had come off rather worse, having grazed her knees when she fell. Her stockings were a sight to behold. Miss Nalder came racing back from the front of the line to see Cornelia and Evadne  rubbing their heads gingerly and Susan gasping out apologies to the other two. 

After making enquiries Miss Nalder swiftly took charge. Fortunately, they had not gone far. She sent Cornelia and Evadne back to Matron. She was doubtful that either girl had been seriously injured, but she was taking no chances with bumps to the head. She was about to send Susan after them, to get her knees bathed and dressed and to change her stockings, when she was interrupted. 

“I say, I’m afraid my brother and I are to blame for what has just occurred.”

It was Peter who spoke. He and Edmund, seeing what had happened, had come running over to the girls, to see what they could do to help.

“Indeed,” said Miss Nalder, eyeing them icily. Peter and Edmund reddened, but Edmund plunged into an explanation.

“You see, we are Susan’s brothers and she saw us waving to her from the window of our chalet over there. I am afraid she became a little excited and that caused her to forget she should keep walking.” Edmund’s eyes twinkled as he spoke and Miss Nalder, amused despite her initial annoyance at Susan, unbent a little and smiled at the two young men. Just then Edmund’s friendly grin changed to a look of concern as he saw the expression on Stacie’s face. Her back had been jarred when Susan had grabbed at her and she was in a lot of pain. As both Edmund and Miss Nalder turned towards her, she swayed. Edmund was just in time to catch her as she collapsed. He lowered her gently to the ground. Stacie’s eyes were closed and she lay there, grey, still and to all appearances …

Sorry, couldn’t resist!

“Susan, you must run back to school as quickly as you can and fetch Matron. Explain what has happened, she will need to ring the San for Dr Russell. Joyce, you go with Susan please. The rest of you,” this to the rest of the Middles who were now crowding around, “please form yourself into two lines and march back to the school and go back to the common room.”

Mademoiselle Lachenais now took charge of the remaining girls and marched them back to school. Miss Nalder knelt beside Stacie and waited for Matron to arrive. Edmund and Peter stood to one side, feeling that they should do something to help, but feeling very much in the way. Peter spoke to Miss Nalder.

“Should we give her some brandy? We have some in our chalet. We could also fetch a mattress and make her more comfortable.”

Miss Nalder shook her head. “Stacie had a seriously back injury several terms ago,” she said. “It is only recently that she came back to school. I feel sure that Dr Russell would prefer we not move her.” 

Peter nodded his assent, but he was also concerned about the mistress. She looked almost as pale as Stacie, and she was clearly shaken by the incident. He looked at Edmund, an unspoken question in his eyes and Edmund nodded and sped into the chalet, returning with a glass in his hand. 

“Here,” he said abruptly. “You’ve had a nasty shock and this will help.” 

Miss Nalder took the glass reluctantly, but knew that he was right. After a couple of sips, the colour returned to her cheeks and she handed the glass back to Edmund.

“Thank you,” she said. “Might I know your names? I believe one of you mentioned that Susan was your sister?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Edmund. “Mrs Russell has very kindly offered us the use of this small chalet near to the school. Our sisters Susan and Lucy are both at the Chalet School this term. My name is Edmund and this is Peter, the eldest of us,” he gave Peter a faint grin, which was returned.

“I see,” said Miss Nalder, “we were all very surprised when Lucy and Susan arrived. We had not known that we were to have any more new pupils this term.”

Not half as surprised as we were, thought Edmund, but he thought it best to say nothing, contenting himself with a polite smile. Just then, Matron arrived with the news that Dr Russell was on the way down from the San with an ambulance and had ordered that Stacie not be moved at all. Matron agreed with Peter that brandy might be a good idea and sent Edmund running back to the chalet for more. They then settled down to wait for the ambulance, which was not long in coming. When it arrived Dr Russell and his collegues had Stacie lifted gently onto a stretcher and carried her gently to the ambulance. She was now beginning to rouse and they were able to get a little brandy into her. She did not speak, but low moans of pain issued from the stretcher. Edmund’s heart contracted with pity. He had never spoken of it to Peter or his sisters, but he remembered only too well the intense pain of his injuries from his battle with the White Witch in Narnia. He had thought he was going to die and until Lucy had dosed him with her cordial. The pain had been so intense he had almost wished he could die, so that he might be free from it. How he wished he had some of that magic cordial now, so that he could give Stacie some.

“I hear you two kept your heads and helped out. Thank you. My wife tells me that you are staying in the chalet. She would like to meet you later on, perhaps you and your sisters might be able to come up to our home, near the San. I must go with my patient now, so I will wish you goodbye for the present.” (I was trying to make Jem sound rather pompous, hope I succeeded.)

Miss Nalder and Matron thanked Peter and Edmund and returned to the Chalet to report to Mademoiselle. Peter and Edmund watched the departure of the ambulance and silently went back inside their temporary home.

News of Stacie’s injury travelled swiftly around the school. Versions of the tale became more lurid with every telling and Cornelia was electrified to overhear Alixe von Elsen telling Biddy O’Ryan that Susan, Cornelia, Evadne and Stacie had had a stand up fight during the walk, during which Susan had pushed Stacie over and then performed a war dance upon her back. According to Alixe, after this, Cornelia and Evadne had had a fist fight with Susan, who had banged their heads together. (Some of them had seen Cornelia and Evadne when they had returned to school and had jumped to wild conclusions.) Unable to believe her ears, Corney let fly with some of the brighter parts of her vocabulary, winding up by calling Alixe a “ham-handed, left-footed bonehead.” Miss Wilson was not impressed and fined Cornelia heavily, which did not noticeable subdue that young person, who continued on her way, feeling that at least, she had had her say! Miss Wilson then turned her attention to Alixe and demanded an explanation, which she got. Biting her lips to prevent herself from laughing at Alixe’s ridiculous tale, she gave her two order marks and read her a scathing lecture on harmful gossip, which had the effect of  making Alixe most subdued for the rest of that week. 

"Which," Miss Wilson remarked, when relating the tale in the Staffroom, "is something, at least."

Anxiety over Stacie’s condition created a lot of tension in the Middles’ common room. Susan, who had had the tale of Stacie’s former injuries from Evadne only that morning, was most upset that she had caused her to wrench her back again. She sat silently in the common room and the others left her alone, sympathetic to her misery. Susan misunderstood this and thought that they were all blaming her and became more miserable than ever. Joyce, Cornelia and Evadne, who had all become quite friendly with Stacie, also sat silently, their worry over their friend making them oblivious to all else. Some of the more thoughtless among the Middles began to speculate out loud as to whether Stacie might have to spend more time on her back, recovering from a new injury. Their silly remarks roused Cornelia and she addressed a remark to Evadne about “silly rubber-necked glumphs who couldn’t see any further than their own noses”. The more heedless among them giggled, but Susan, who thought that Corney was talking about her flared up at once.

“I am not a glumph. Glumph yourself,” she retorted, not being very sure just what a glumph was. (Anyone?) Kitty Burnett sprang to Corney’s defence at once. She was feeling guilty on her own account for not making Stacie feel more welcome upon her return to school and consequently was rather touchy.

“Corney wasn’t talking about you, stupid!” she remarked. Susan’s eyes flashed and she turned on Kitty.

“I am not stupid, how dare you call me that!”
 

Miss Wilson did not spare any of them. Quite half the girls were weeping like waterspouts when she had finished with them. Corney and Joyce, both having a boyish hatred of tears, clenched their fists and managed to keep from following their example. Miss Wilson dealt out double order marks all round and decreed that as the entire Middle School were behaving like babies they should be treated as such and go to bed at the same time as the little ones over at Le Petit Chalet. Only a wholesome respect for the mistress prevented a positive howl of outrage at this loss of their precious free before bedtime. Many were the black looks cast at Susan, as most of the girls considered her to be to blame for the whole incident. As for Susan, she wished she had just stayed in Narnia, or at least in the wardrobe. How she wished she could go home!

The next day brought no better news. Stacie had fully recovered consciousness but the doctors feared the weakened back muscles had sustained some further strain by the way she had wrenched them. It was too early to say with any certaintly, but it looked as though Stacie might have to spend the rest of the term up at the Sanatorium, instead of readjusting to school life, as had been planned. Stacie herself was bitterly disappointed and had wept many tears over it already, but knew a rapid recovery depended as much on her keeping her spirits up, as it depended on the skill of the doctors looking after her.

Cornelia and Evadne, who had gone to Mademoiselle to ask about the latest news of their friend, looked very glum at this and went off to report to the other Middles. Fortunately for all of them, it was english day and they were all able to express their feelings freely. 

“Poor Stacie,” said Joyce. “She was so excited about coming back down this term. Now she has to lie flat on her back again, perhaps for the whole term. What bad luck it all is.”

The others all agreed with Joyce, except for Susan, who sat silently, feeling that she was entirely to blame for Stacie’s misfortune. She slipped away presently, feeling that she could no longer endure being with the rest. She wandered the corridors aimlessly and presently found herself outside in the gardens of St Clare’s house. There, she was hailed by none other than Lucy, who had come over to St Clare’s on an errand for Mademoiselle.

“Susan! I’m so glad to see you. Everything has been so strange lately and so much is happening. Are you getting on all right?” Strangely enough, the news about Stacie’s accident and Susan’s role in it had not yet filtered through to the Senior School, so Lucy was not prepared for the effect that her innocent question had on Susan. Susan dropped onto a convenient garden bench, buried her head in her arms and burst into tears.

Lucy sat down beside the girl that she still thought of as her older sister and slipped a comforting arm around the shaking shoulders.

“Cheer up old thing,” she said comfortingly. “It can’t be as bad as all that and you’ll make yourself ill if you keep crying like that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Susan told her the whole sorry story, how she had made such a bad start in the school, how she could not follow anything that went on in french and german, how she was suddenly so bad at lessons, how no-one seemed to even like her.

“Except for Stacie who is always so kind to me and it’s all my fault that she’s so ill again,” she said, breaking into fresh sobs. 

“What do you mean?” asked her sister, perplexed, and Susan told her what had happened on the walk. Lucy looked grave for a moment and then looked at her sister.

“Su! It isn’t your fault, except maybe for forgetting you were walking in a line and stopping to wave at Peter and Edmund. I probably would have done the same. I expect the way you grabbed at Stacie was just an instinctive thing and if you’d thought, you would never have done it.”

“But it is my fault,” sobbed Susan, who was well away by this time. “Evadne told me this morning all about Stacie’s back and how careful she has to be all the time. I should have remembered and never never grabbed at her.”

“Girls, what are you doing here?” exclaimed Frieda. “Do you not know that you should both be in your common rooms at this hour?”

Lucy jumped to her feet. 

“I am sorry Frieda, we did not know,” she said quietly. “Mademoiselle sent me over here with a message for Miss Wilson and I was on my way back when I saw my sister. We haven’t had a chance for a chat since we came here and I have been worried about her.”

Frieda looked more closely at Lucy and then Susan, noting the look of misery on the younger girl’s face. Being the second most senior prefect at St Clare’s house, she was well aware of what had occurred on the Middles’ walk and of Susan’s part in it. She had had a quick word with Marie, who nodded and continued out of the gardens alone. Frieda came over and sat down on the bench next to Susan. 

“Susan, you know that I am Second Prefect here? Miss Wilson told me what happened on the walk yesterday. It must have been a very great shock to you.” 

Susan nodded. She could not speak. Lucy suddenly interrupted.

“Frieda, Susan is very unhappy because she believes Stacie’s accident was all her fault. She has cried and cried until she has nearly made herself ill. I am glad you came, because I wasn’t sure what I should do.”

Frieda looked pityingly at the miserable little object next to her.

“I think that it would be best if Susan and I went and saw Mademoiselle,” she said quietly. 

“May I come too,” asked Lucy. Susan looked up at her gratefully and then in mute appeal at Frieda. Frieda looked at them both and then relented.

“Of course you may. Remain here for a moment, both of you, while I go and explain to Miss Wilson, then we will go across and talk with Mademoiselle.”

The cat jumped down from Susan’s lap and vanished under a chair. Susan sat up straighter in her seat and waited for Lucy and Frieda to finish talking. At last, their voices trailed off and all three swivelled in their seats to look at Susan. Susan, inwardly terrified, but determined nonetheless, plunged straight in.

“Mademoiselle, I’ve been an awful idiot. I just don’t know what to do.”

Mademoiselle looked at her with kindly eyes and Lucy’s heart swelled with pride in her sister. “Good for you, Su,” she whispered.

Mademoiselle stopped Susan there and looked across at Frieda. 

“Thank you my dear,” she said gently. “I think it is better that Susan tell me everything in private now, so perhaps you would like to join the other Seniors for dinner over here? I will ring Miss Wilson up and explain matters to her. Lucy my dear, I think perhaps you should join your companions also. I should like you to come back to my study after Abendessen and we will arrange a time for both of you to visit your brothers tomorrow. I am sorry we did not organise it before.”

Both Lucy and Frieda nodded and left the study, Lucy flashing an encouraging smile at Susan as she left.

Left alone with Mademoiselle, Susan summoned up all her courage and told Mademoiselle everything, how she had found lessons so difficult, how she could understand neither french nor german, how everything she did seemed to turn out badly.

“I didn’t understand why suddenly I couldn’t do lessons and why I had forgotten everything,” she wound up, sitting back in her chair and looking across at the Head. Mademoiselle frowned.

“I do not understand my dear, how could you forget your lessons?”

“Because something is all mixed up with Lucy and me,” replied Susan earnestly. “She’s only a little girl and I was just about to leave school. Then when we came out of the wardrobe we discovered that somehow our ages had been swapped around. I had become younger and Lucy was Senior age. I don’t know how she has managed, because she has never even been to school before. At our old school I was always top in everything and french was my best subject. Oh I know you think I sound crazy,” at Mademoiselle’s doubtful expression, “but I’m telling you the truth.” She sat back in her chair again and looked expectantly at Mademoiselle.

When Lucy arrived, somewhat nervously, for she feared that Susan might be in more trouble, Mademoiselle beckoned her to a comfortable chair, smiling. Lucy relaxed.

“Come in my child,” said kindly Mademoiselle. “Your sister has told me all, including what has happened to you both.”

“You mean you know that I’m not really older than Susan,” burst out Lucy. Susan nodded at her.

“Thank goodness for that, it has all felt really strange,” continued Lucy.

Mademoiselle was looking puzzled.

“But my child, have you not been having difficulty with your lessons? Why has no-one noticed?”

“But that’s just it,” said Lucy. “I haven’t been having any trouble at all. The day after we arrived it was french day and I understood everything everyone said to me and I could follow all the lessons and write in the language and everything. As a matter of fact, I’ve just loved being at school. I thought at first that everyone was just speaking very slowly, so I could understand, but then the same thing happened on german day as well, and I realised I could understand it all and keep up in all my lessons, as if I had always known it.”

“But didn’t you wonder about it?” asked Mademoiselle.

“Oh yes,” replied Lucy, “but everything has been so strange since we got here, it was just one more strange thing. I decided it was Aslan’s doing and just left it at that.”

Somehow, when Miss Wilson had explained the childrens’ situation to Mademoiselle, she had left out the mention of Aslan and it had not come up when Mademoiselle had interviewed them either. Mademoiselle did not know who Aslan was, but the mention of the name had a strange effect on her. Quite suddenly, she felt years younger and the strange weakness and pain she sometimes woke up with, were gone.

“Who is Aslan?” she asked. Lucy hastened to explain.

“He is the king of Narnia, the great lion. He was the one who called us out of our own world into Narnia and he is the one who must have sent us here instead of back to England. I wish we could see him again. Everything seems to be better when Aslan is here.”

“Now we must decide how to help both of you adjust to school life here,” she said. “Susan, I think we must arrange extra coaching for you, so that you may learn french and german and be able to cope with the lessons. I will also explain some things to your teachers, so that they will help you. I want your word that you will do your best. I know how hard it must be, when previously you were one of the older ones, but this has happened and we must make the best of it now.”

Susan nodded. She suddenly liked the small frenchwoman, whose face, while rather plain, shone with kindliness and concern for her students. 

“I will try Mademoiselle,” she promised. “Thank you for helping me.”

Mademoiselle smiled at the girl and then turned her attention to Lucy.

“And Lucy, we will leave things as they are with you, for the present. But you must tell me if you have difficulties with your lessons or with anything else, so that I may help you.”

“Oh I will Mademoiselle, and thank you,” cried Lucy. Both girls were looking much happier. Mademoiselle sent them to join their peers, satisfied that for the moment, their difficulties were on the way to being solved.

When the girls had left her study, Mademoiselle sat pondering all that they had told her. It all seemed incredible to her and yet, the way the girls had told their story just had a ring of truth about it. Remembering that she had promised to arrange extra coaching for Susan, she got up from her desk to look out the timetables for the Middle School. She was halfway across the room when a sharp pain caused her to double over for a moment or two. She tottered over to the nearest chair and sat down limply. The pain and the nausea were back. It seemed to come intermittently. Sometimes she would feel unwell for a couple of days and then no symptoms at all for weeks on end. Every time she thought she would consult one of the doctors, the symptoms just disappeared and, feeling rather silly, she would say nothing about it. She had got this far in her thoughts when the pain disappeared again, as did the nausea. 

Feeling relieved, Mademoiselle stood up once more and went over to the filing drawers where she kept the timetables for the various forms. She rifled through them until she found those which affected Susan and took them back to her desk to look through. As she had thought, it was a fairly simple matter to find suitable timeslots, about three or four a week, when Susan could be coached in french and german. She rang through to Miss Wilson and spoke to her at some length, outlining what had happened and what she proposed to do about Susan. When the conversation had ended, they had settled it all. Susan was to have intensive french coaching with Miss Norman, who was head of the Juniors and Frieda Mensch was to take charge of her german. This was unusual as it happened, but Frieda was not to take exams at the end of the year and there was no mistress who was available to coach Susan at the necessary times. Both Mademoiselle and Miss Wilson felt that Frieda’s gentleness and tact might succeed with this new girl. 

“I say, Corney and Evadne, I’m really sorry for being so hard to get on with lately. I suppose it’s all been a bit hard to settle in to things here and I’ve taken it out on everyone around me.”

Neither Cornelia nor Evadne were ones to hold out against such a forthright apology. In fact, Evadne wondered shamefacedly if perhaps they all could have done more to help Susan fit in a bit better. Corney, thinking much along the same lines held out a rather grubby hand.

“Shake,” she said, grinning at Susan, who grinned back with a will. 

“Anyway, it wasn’t all your fault. You were a ninny, but then, so were we, some of the time.” A splutter from Evadne at this, made her look over at that young person. “Well, we were.”

The other Middles, seeing this, began to thaw out towards Susan again, by degrees. Things improved even more when  Miss Wilson, acting on some of the information Mademoiselle gave her about Susan's difficulties, remitted the rest of their punishment. It was a much happier Susan who went to bed that night. Miss Wilson had given her a new timetable and explained who would be coaching her and when. Even the news that she would be expected to spend three or four hours extra per week on french and german failed to dampen Susan’s spirits. She vowed that she would do her very best and not disappoint Mademoiselle.

Three or four weeks passed before either Lucy or Susan had had time to notice. Susan was working hard at every subject and was beginning to make progress. The breakthrough had come when she had finally realised that she could follow what her friends were saying to her, and perhaps more importantly, what the staff were saying to her. She found to her surprise that the coaching, which she had expected to be dull, had been interesting. Miss Norman, who had been educated in France, spoke that language with great fluency. Once Susan had progressed to basic phrases, Miss Norman had initiated simple discussions, to build up Susan’s confidence. Susan’s spoken french was still rather shaky at times, but she was now able to understand most phrases that were thrown at her.

German too, had been another challenge mastered with enjoyment. Susan had become quite fond of gentle Frieda, who patiently took Susan over and over the difficult areas of german grammar and pronunciation, never once laughing at Susan’s stumbling attempts. She always explained things clearly and constantly encouraged Susan to keep trying. The first day when Susan put together a sentence by herself was a joy to both of them and from there, Susan progressed in leaps and bounds. One of Frieda’s ideas had been to set Susan to learn 20 or so new words each day. In this way, Susan was very quickly able to build up a vocabulary in the unfamiliar language. After a couple of weeks of this kind of intensive work, she became quicker at picking things up. By the end of three weeks she had a fairly firm grasp on what people were saying to her on german days.

Mademoiselle had also kept her promise about allowing Lucy and Susan time to spend with their brothers. The girls had spent many happy hours with them, taking short walks and having numerous discussions about life at the Chalet School. 

Peter and Edmund had also been busy. The promised invitation to visit Dr Russell and his wife had been given and they had been guests at Madge’s pretty home up on the Tiernsee several times. Both Dr Russell and Dr Maynard had been most impressed with the two young men and very interested to hear of Peter’s wish to become a doctor. On one of these visits Jack Maynard had offered to lend Peter various medical texts of his own, so that he could keep up with his studies. He promised to bring these the next time he came down to visit the school.

As it happened, Jack was down sooner than he had expected. Some of the Middles had broken out in suspicious spots and when Mademoiselle rang the San, Jack offered to go down and investigate. 

“It’s probably the result of eating berries before they’re ripe,” he remarked to Jem, who he encountered as he set out. “But you never know and no-one wants an outbreak of anything infectious.”

Jack remembered his promise to Peter and bundled up the promised books under his arm and took them with him. On arriving at the school, he discovered, as he had expected, that Alixe von Elsen, Biddy O’Ryan and Mary Shaw were suffering from no more than a tummy rash. As both he and Jem had done many times before, he shut himself up in the school San, mixed up the most harmless, yet vile-tasting mixture he could concoct and handed it to Matron Besley.

“One teas p o o n ful per girl, three times a day, before mealtimes,” he said, choking back a laugh at the very long faces of the three patients. That will teach them not to go picking unripe berries and eating them, he thought wickedly, but kept a very straight face as he left the room.
 

Edited to add: had to get around the censor. I still don't see what is so bad about s p o o n!

“Hello,” she said cheekily, “have you come for some lessons?”

“Don’t be silly Jo,” said Jack, wondering if she was ever going to grow up.

“I’ve just dropped in to see some patients and now I’m off to visit some new friends of mine.”

Jo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What friends?” she exclaimed.

“Two brothers who are staying in the chalet Madge and Jem keep for visitors down here. I met them up at your sister’s house. Actually, you would know their sisters very well, since both girls come to school here.”

Jo’s face darkened. He had to be talking about Susan and Lucy. By now, all the girls were aware that the two girls had their brothers staying nearby the school. Jo was no closer to liking either girl, than she had been at the beginning of their acquaintance. She especially disliked Lucy, who had done nothing to deserve her animosity. If truth be known, Jo had become rather jealous of Lucy, who she saw as her rival in everything. Lucy seemed to have a gift for learning languages, even more so than Jo. Her lovely singing voice delighted Plato, who, it seemed to Jo, spent every lesson marvelling at its power and range. She excelled at games, earning praise from Miss Nalder. She was popular with the other Seniors and all the Juniors loved her, especially – and this was the crowning insult for Jo – the Robin. The Robin had taken a fancy to the tall, fair-haired girl, who could run so fast on the sporting field and who was never too busy to tell stories to the little ones or play games with them. Something about Lucy’s wistful expression as she told these tales (tales which Tumnus the faun had told her) recalled deeply-buried memories of the Robin’s long-dead mother. It was mainly for this reason that the Robin followed Lucy around and often spoke of her to Jo, when they were alone.

Jack knitted his brow at her tone, but continued, “I’m going over there now, perhaps you and Frieda, or Simone may like to come for the walk and meet them. Why don’t you go and ask for permission and I’ll wait at the gate for you.”

Jo hesitated. She really had no wish to meet Peter and Edmund again, but she had had little opportunity for walks lately and was longing for one. Jack was staring at her (such indecision being rare in Jo Bettany) so she made up her mind.

“All right then, I’ll go and ask Miss Wilson and see if one of the others is free. Thanks Jack!”

Jack nodded at her and continued on his way. Jo went off to seek Miss Wilson, who readily gave her permission. Frieda was not free, as it happened, but Simone had a free period and jumped at the chance to go for a walk with her adored Jo. They met Jack at the gate, who led the way to the small chalet where Peter and Edmund were staying.

No more tonight. I'm going to enjoy a nice evening not doing very much with hubby.
 

*begins chant*

Don't worry, I'll wait until it gets bigger and juicer this time  ;)

Don't you dare! I've got my big stick out!

Goes off to find some Tim Tams ...

*chants for more* I'm glad Susan is being more sensible now, but I hope Jack sorts Jo out. Isn't she silly  ::) Well, I suppose it's natural, but still....

Thank you, Cathy, for showing more of Jo's jealousy. It makes her a much more interesting character!

-- 
Earlier that morning Mademoiselle had given Lucy and Susan permission to walk over to visit their brothers in the afternoon. The chalet was so close to the school that Mademoiselle had no fears for their safety, and in any case, Lucy was a sensible girl and could be trusted. 

As Jo, Simone and Jack drew near to the chalet, Susan was entertaining the other three with an account of that morning’s breakfast. Alixe von Elsen and Biddy O’Ryan, who were both imps of the first order, had seen fit to subsitute white pepper for the sugar at their table, then sat back and awaited results. The faces of their companions, as described by Susan, when they tasted their morning coffee, was priceless. Alixe and Biddy had been found out at once, of course and Miss Wilson had condemned them to helping out in the kitchen for a week, since as she said “they were so fond of helping out with the food preparation”. 

“I believe they had wanted to play the prank on Matron Besley,” said Susan, “but they didn’t dare touch the things on the staff table. So they played the trick on their own table members instead. But Miss Wilson found them out straight away because they didn’t put any of the stuff in their own coffees. You should have seen their faces when she called them up to her. It was a mixture of terror, and indignation that she had caught them out so quickly.”

The other three laughed at this, and it was at this moment that Jack and the others arrived. Peter and Edmund sprang to their feet to welcome their friend and then introduced him to their sisters. Jack saw two girls, one quite tall, with a face alight with laughter and very fair hair. The other was smaller and seemed to be about Stacie’s age, he thought. 

Jack turned to Jo and Simone.

“Jo and Simone, these are Peter and Edmund Pevensie, friends of mine,” he said, courteously gesturing towards the two young men.”

“We’re very pleased to meet you,” said Peter, turning towards Jo and Simone. He recognised Jo at once, of course, but thought it best not to mention that they had met before. He rather fancied it would be difficult to explain! “I believe that you both already know our sisters,” here he looked over affectionately at Lucy and Susan.

“Yes, we’re acquainted with them,” replied Jo icily and then turned away from him towards Jack.

“Are we going to walk on now?”

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both Jack and Simone amazed at Jo’s blatant display of rudeness. Lucy flushed and looked down at the floor. By now she was very well aware that Jo disliked her, but she had not expected her to show it so publicly. Jack looked over at her and felt sorry for her obvious embarassment.
“I think you must be tired Jo, so I’m sure the Pevensies will excuse your rudeness on this occasion,” he said quietly, but with a hint of steel in his tones. It was Jo’s turn to blush, feeling rather like a small child who has been scolded by a parent. 

Loyal Simone sprang into the breach, anxious to draw attention away from the friend.

“Peter, Lucy tells us that you wish to become a doctor.”

“Yes,” replied Peter. “I have always been interested in medicine and Dr Russell and Dr Maynard here have been kind enough to take an interest in my studies.”

Well it's funny you should say that ...

we don't get study leave for any retakes or exams in january  >:( as the school doesn't think we need it with christmas holidays just before them  >:(

Maybe on the weekend. I'm not feeling all that crash hot at the moment and the kidlets come home today and leave for Malaysia tomorrow, so I want to have some time with them -- they won't be back until the beginning of February.

*goes off to make noise on siblings thread instead*

They are 11 and 7. They're going to Malaysia as unaccompanied minors, to vist their father (my ex). They go twice a year, always in January and July. Sometimes find myself wishing he would dig a big hole and fall into it (together with the floozy) ...

They enjoy it. Apparently UM get quite a few free ice creams! No cockpit tours anymore though.

It is around an 8 hour flight from Australia.
 

... I don't have any, hallelujah.  But today my mother, who is in the process of divorcing her husband, phoned me up to ask (with great pathos) whether I wouldn't send him a card for his birthday tomorrow, because he'd appreciate it so much.   :o ??? >:(  What the ***?! 

*sometimes wishes she wasn't so nice and pacific and obliging and could actually shout at parents as they deserve!*

Oh please feel free. Fortunately for me I married a very nice man last year, after five years of doing the single parent thing. But I still don't have any time for the ex. I'm just glad he's in a different country and I don't have to deal with him very much.
 

of course we can wait for more story, my dear!

*assumes any story of that sort would include Reg and possibly Jem*

But Reg and Jem aren't anyones exes!

-- 
Simone exclaimed in interest and soon was deep in conversation with Edmund, Peter, Jack and Lucy (who gradually recovered from her embarassment). Jo was left somewhat on the sidelines and sat apart, glowering. Susan glanced over and saw that she was sitting alone and felt sorry for the Head Girl. She attempted to draw Jo into conversation, but after every attempt brought an icy snub, she relapsed into hurt silence and, after a while, joined the others.

The truth was, Jo was feeling a little embarassed on her own account and rather silly as well. It was just that every time she was in Lucy’s vicinity she felt resentful and well, jealous, if she admitted it. The Chalet School had been her whole life since she and Madge had moved here. She had always enjoyed a sense of importance as the sister of the Headmistress/chief financial partner and this had only grown over the years, although, to do her justice, she had never tried to make use of it, knowing quite well what Madge’s reaction would have been. She had been popular at school almost from the first and had gained a reputation for being clever at languages and exceptional at music, especially singing. She had grumbled at the adoration she received from such people as Simone, but deep down, gained a personal satisfaction from it, as it gave her relationships where she  could be in control. 

The Robin too, who Jo wholeheartedly loved and cherished, she regarded as her own personal property in terms of expecting the same adoration back from her, and only for her, Jo. Up until now, this had not been a problem. Finally, this year she had been made Head Girl and again outwardly grumbling at the fact, Jo was secretly delighted. Throughout the year her sense of self-importance had been growing and she had become rather more careless in the way she related to her school fellows. When Lucy arrived on the scene, seemingly challenging Jo in all the areas she believed she reigned supreme, something inside Jo seemed to snap. She could not seem to keep expressing the resentment that she felt.

Although she did not realise it, Jo’s continued rudeness and hostility towards Lucy had not gone unnoticed by the other Seniors and they were beginning to wonder at it. It was obvious to all that Lucy had done nothing to deserve this treatment and various people began to question, to themselves, the way that Jo spoke and acted, not just to Lucy, but to others.

Jo knew nothing of this, of course, but as she sat in the small chalet and watched the others enjoying their conversation she felt so miserable and confused. Quite suddenly, she just wanted to go back to St Clare’s and shut herself up in her bedroom. She was relieved when Jack Maynard stood up.

“I must be getting back up to the Sonnalpe. You girls are due back at school too. I’ll take you all over with me and then I’ll head back.”

Lucy and Susan looked glum at this, but knew he was right. They bade goodbye to their brothers and left with the other three. 

When they reached the main house of the school Lucy had to turn in and go to join the other Seniors. She gave Susan a quick hug and turned to thank Jack for bringing them home, then vanished up the main path. Only Simone noticed the look in Jack’s eyes as he watched Lucy’s progress along the path. In the past she had seen that look a few times when his eyes rested on Jo, but she suddenly realised that look had been missing for a while. 

It's a deal. I'm thinking about the next bit, but I'm at work and my employer (most unfairly in my opinion) seems to think I should be occupying my time in editing the work of other people, not writing drabbles. Really, I wish some people would get their priorities straight!!!

(for once with no urge to defend Jo)

*feels bad at unchaletian attitude*

ETA: juat noticed I'm curretnly being a disappointment to Miss Annersley!  :-[Maybe I should stick with the first idea.

-- 
Simone stole a quick glance at Jo, but Jo was scowling down at her feet and Simone sighed in relief. It had been several months earlier, on a weekend up at the Sonnalpe, that both Simone and Marie had caught Jack gazing at Jo. His feelings for her had been there for everyone to see. Both girls had looked away embarassed and later agreed not to mention what they had seen to anyone, especially Jo. It was plain to them that Jo was completely unaware of Jack’s feelings and they both liked and respected “Dr Jack” and did not wish to intrude on his privacy.

Now, as Simone glanced up at Jack’s face and away again, she was thankful that she had never mentioned the incident to Jo. It looked to as though he had ceased to feel that way about her.

In other words, fantastic, more please.

Madge, similarly, was deeply concerned about Stacie and much occupied with her two young children and had had no time for entertaining Jo. She had expected Jo to occupy herself by visiting friends or reading quietly or helping to keep Stacie’s spirits up.

Jo’s response each time had been the same – an extended fit of sulking, which had stunned and disappointed her sister. On her most recent visit, she had been been at her worst, even to producing her book of Appalachian folk tunes and whistling them at every hour of the day, until she drove the entire company mad. Grizel, who particularly detested the tunes, gritted her teeth and said nothing, knowing how tired and anxious Madge was. She had no wish to add to her worries so, rather than argue with Jo, she spent almost every spare moment with Stacie, doing everything she could to cheer the girl up. 

Jem Russell had finally confiscated the song book, much to the relief of everyone else and there had been a most uncomfortable scene when he had lectured Jo on her childish behaviour and then ordered her to her room. Jo had gone, slamming the door behind her, and Jack Maynard had sat, stunned, at the table. (This had taken place at breakfast.) 

Jack had arrived a few hours later to examine Stacie and Madge accompanied him to the girl’s bedroom. When they went in they were dismayed to see her lying wearily, eyes closed and obviously trying to sleep, while Jo excitedly talked on and on about school pursuits and sports, none of which Stacie could take part in for some time. Tearstains on Stacie’s pillow bore testimony to her hurt at Jo’s thoughtlessness. Jo had not even noticed, in fact, as Jack had observed silently, she was not even looking at Stacie at all. He had felt disgusted at Jo’s behaviour and had stood by silently as Madge swiftly bundled her out of the room.

Madge had tactfully made no comment, but set about making Stacie as comfortable as she could. While Jack left to mix a draught for Stacie, she had helped the tired girl to change into fresh nightclothes and then gently substituted a fresh pillowslip for the damp one. She was just bathing Stacie’s face with cooling lavender water when Jack returned with a glass, which he handed to Madge. The draught soon took effect and Stacie fell into a deep sleep. Jack bent over the bed and felt her forehead and nodded.

“Nice and cool now, thank goodness,” he said. “I was worried that she had worked herself into a fever, but she’ll sleep now and that’s what she needs. I think perhaps Jo should stay away from her for a while, in fact, perhaps only yourself and Grizel should be in here. Grizel seems to soothe her more than anyone else.”

Madge nodded and they had both left the room, Jack to return to the Sanatorium, and Madge to the nursery. The incident had not been mentioned again, but Jack had often thought of it, wondering how he could have been so mistaken in someone. Jo’s carelessness of her friend’s feelings had finally killed any feelings he had for her. He would never be able to think about her in the same way again.

Now, as Jack made his way back up to the Sonnalpe his thoughts were not of Jo, but of the tall, fair girl he had met that day. He was not anxious to repeat his mistake with Jo, but by the time they left the chalet where Peter and Edmund were staying, he owned to himself that he was strongly attracted to Lucy.
 

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