The CBB :: View topic - Good News for Gwensi

#1: Good News for Gwensi Author: CBB Secret Santa,

Posted: Mon Dec 06, 2004 10:27 pm

This particular Wednesday began like any other, and Gwensi had no idea of the news that was waiting for her. The book they were studying for literature – Hamlet – was one the Welsh girl had read a number of times, for her brother was fond of Shakespeare’s works, particularly his tragedies, and liked having his young sister read aloud to him, so she was able to easily answer the questions she received and gained a high mark on an essay Mrs Redmond had set the class during their previous lesson.
Latin presented slightly more of a challenge as a result of the high standard Miss Denny demanded of the Form, but Gwensi had carefully prepared her prep, so there was no problem to be found.
“I say, Gwen,” exclaimed Nancy Hatton, as the Welsh girl took her empty glass over to the trolley, which Dilys Vaughn was preparing to take into the kitchen, “Miss Dene’s put the letters out on the table in the hall and I’m positive I saw one with your name on it.”
“Ernest, at last,” replied Gwensi. “He can be the most exasperating correspondent!”
More than one person had heard Nancy’s exclamation and by the time Gwensi got out of the dining room, there was quite a crowd around the table, many of the younger girls chattering at the tops of their voices.
“Hi, there, you folk, what’s the rule about talking in the corridors?” demanded Gwensi. Then, in the stunning silence that followed, “If you already have your letters, please head off to your common rooms and let the others have their chance, for you certainly can’t go outside in this rain.”
The group in the hall quickly thinned, until only some half-dozen girls were gathered around the table. Four of them quickly snatched up letters that had been laid out in rows according to Forms, as was Miss Dene’s habit, but the other two girls turned away empty-handed.
Joan Sandys shrugged away her disappointment, grabbing the arm of her Form-mate, Natalie Mensch, as that girl passed, and going with her into the Upper Forth Common room. Loveday Perowne, however, remained staring at the table blankly for a moment before she turned, and Gwensi was quick to note the tears that had filled her eyes, and which she was desperately trying to blink away before the Prefect saw them.
Gwensi, however, was quick, and happened to be watching the younger girl. Seeing her obvious distress, she slid an arm around the Middle’s shoulders.
“What’s up, Loveday? Is there anything I do?”
“I…” the girl began, before a sob broke from her and she suddenly turned to the older girl, hiding her face in Gwensi’s middle as her small shoulders heaved.
Startled, Gwensi looked around at the empty hallway for a moment before gently drawing Loveday down towards the back of the building, past the back stairs, past the Senior Common Room, from which eager voices could be heard, and down a small side passage. The study Gwensi shared with Meg Farrant was empty and she was thankful to shut the door and sit down in one of the two armchairs the room boasted. Settling Loveday on her lap – the girl was small, while Gwensi was quite a good height for her age – she pushed a spare hanky into the child’s hand and waited for the worst of her tears to subside.
Break was almost over by the time Loveday was calm enough to talk, but before she could speak, there was a gentle tap on the door.
“Come in,” called Gwensi rather imperiously, for she wanted to get to the bottom of Loveday’s problem before class began and knew she had little time to do it.
The door opened a small amount and Isobel Allan’s head poked around it. “I… Oh, I’m sorry, Gwensi. It’s just that I accidentally must have picked up your letter with mine. I have it here.”
“Thanks, Izzy,” replied Gwensi. “Just put it there on the table, will you?”
The other girl did as she had been directed and then discreetly departed, while Gwensi returned her attention to Loveday.
“Now then, Loveday,” she began briskly, hoping to vanquish any further tears by such treatment, “tell me all about it.”
Her methods were not completely successful, for Loveday’s eyes filled again, but she blinked away the tears and tried to speak.
“I… Oh, I suppose it’s silly,” the younger girl quavered, “but you see, Mummy said that, if she and Daddy could come to the Sale, she would certainly write to me by the end of the week, and here it is Wednesday and I’ve heard nothing.”
“There are still two more days left,” Gwensi reminded her gently.
“I know,” and Loveday heaved a trembling sigh. “But it’s not just the trouble with getting here, you see. I don’t know if they’ll be able to afford it, and I did so want them to come!”
“Any particular reason this Sale above any of the others, dear?” asked the older girl tenderly.
Loveday nodded, her head resting against Gwensi’s shoulder. “Our Form’s doing my very fav’rit book for our stall. And Miss Carey said that, as I’ve had such good marks in my arith, I could help count the money at the end.” She heaved another shaky sigh. “I’ve never had such an important job b’fore, and I so wanted them to be there.”
“I see,” was all Gwensi said for the moment, and indeed all she felt she could say, for there was nothing she could do if the Perownes felt that they could not afford to travel to Plas Howell.
“I’m so tired of being poor,” sighed Loveday wearily.
“I also imagine you’re also just plain tired,” suggested Gwensi. “I’m sure things will seem brighter after a nap, and you never know – your letter might come tomorrow. Come along.”
“D’you really thing so?” asked the younger girl, her eyes shining.
“I hope so,” replied the Prefect, emphasising the second word as much as she could.
Standing up, she set the girl on the floor and took Loveday’s hand, leading her out of the room and going up the back stairs. They met Matron at the head of the stairs, who took one look at the weary Middle and whisked her away to the San. In the event, a letter from her mother arrived the following day saying that she would be coming to the Sale, although Mr. Perowne did not feel he could take time away from their property. As a result, Loveday went about for the rest of the term in a sort of solemn ecstasy and made sure that the rest of her Form knew how sweet and kind Gwensi had been to her.
The bell for the start of lessons rang as Gwensi turned to go back down the stairs and she hurried into her study to collect her books. Meg was also there and shot her a matey grin as the Magazine Prefect entered.
“Where have you been, Gwen? Don’t forget we have the Abbess now.”
“Oh, crumbs!” Gwensi flung herself at the bookshelf about her table and began to frantically hunt for her Bible and the other books she would need. Meg, having got the last of her things, left the room with a backward grin.
As she was about to follow her fellow Prefect, Gwensi cast a glance at the envelope that lay on the table just inside the door and then she froze, a small cry of delight breaking from her lips. Dropping her books, she snatched up the envelope and was about to tear it open when her eye was caught by the pretty clock that stood on the mantel. She was five minutes late! And for a lesson with the Head! Horror filled Gwensi and she shoved the envelope into her pocket, snatching up her books and hurriedly leaving the room.
Miss Annersley turned as she softly opened the door and the woman’s blue-grey eyes studied her for a moment. Guiltily, Gwensi felt that the Head could see right through her pocket to that letter.
“I… I’m sorry, Miss Annersley,” she stammered meekly. “I was helping one of the younger girls.”
The Head gave a slight nod and Gwensi scuttled over to her desk, thankfully realising that not all of the thirteen other pairs of eyes, which had fixed on her when she first appeared, could continue to look at her. Opening her Bible to the right place, she also prepared her scribbler to take notes and settled back to listen to the Head.
Gwensi managed to concentrate for most of her speech, but towards the end, her attention wandered once more to the letter in her pocket. The address was typed, but her brother never typed anything, so did that mean it was from –
“Gwensi Howell!”
With a start, Gwensi came to and found herself once more the subject of all eyes. The Head had clearly asked her a question, and Gwensi gulped audibly as she tried to think of an answer that would satisfy Miss Annersley.
“I… er…”
“I see,” replied Miss Annersley coldly. “Do you think you could pay some attention to me, Gwensi?”
“Er, y-yes, Miss Annersley,” murmured Gwensi awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Miss Annersley repeated her question and Gwensi managed to give some sort of answer, sinking back thankfully into her seat as the woman moved on to her neighbour, Dilys Vaughn.
Although it was an effort, Gwensi managed to keep her mind on the subject and heaved a thankful sigh when the Head left the room. There was no chance for anyone to speak after this, for those who took the subject had to hurry across to the Geography room after collecting their books, while the other girls waited for Mlle Berne.
This term, Special VI was studying India. This subject had always interested Gwensi, who had spent many evenings listening to Mrs Maynard talk about the time she had spent there before the outbreak of the war, and she loved Indian Holiday, the book that had been written as a result of that trip. Therefore, for the first half of the lesson, she concentrated hard and managed to answer the questions that Miss Wilson directed at her.
For the second half of the lesson, Miss Wilson set the girls a series of questions about the things that had been discussed, both in that lesson and previous classes.
Gwensi managed to get through about half of the questions before thoughts of her letter once more distracted her. Would the answer be yes or no? She so hoped it would be yes! If only it was, this would be…
A hand on her shoulder shocked her out of her thoughts and she guiltily looked up to meet Miss Wilson’s gaze.
“If I had been asked,” began Miss Wilson, her famous sarcasm edging her tones, although she only spoke softly, “I would have said that you, of all people, would have little difficulty with these questions, Gwensi. Is there anything the matter with you?”
Hot colour flooded Gwensi’s cheeks and her eyes fell. “Er, yes, Miss Wilson,” she agreed. “That is, no, Miss Wilson. I’m sorry.”
The others in the Form, who had clearly overheard this, cast astonished glances at her, and Gwensi’s cheeks burned as she bent her head over her paper, managing to finish the last questions with little trouble. Handing them in when the lesson ended, she could not meet Miss Wilson’s critical gaze and slipped out of the room as quickly as possible.
Talking was forbidden in both the splashery and the hall, and as Gwensi was responsible for one of the long tables, nothing could be said before or during dinner about her unusual lapses of concentration. Katharine James, who sat at the foot of Gwensi’s table, did not take Geography, her major topic being Music, so she had not seen the Magazine Prefect’s behaviour in that class, and in any case was not willing to say anything that might suggest to the Junior Middles who sat at their table that Prefects could also misbehave at times.
Gwensi was nowhere to be found during rest period, and Beth and Daisy felt as if there was a danger of them bursting from curiosity. Breaking the rules, Alixe McNab, who took Geography, informed the other two of their chum’s continued distraction during that lesson – neither took the subject – so it was with chagrin that they found Gwensi already waiting with Miss Burn for their Games class, which came after Rest Period, meaning that they could say nothing to her. However, both noticed her flushed cheeks and shining eyes and wondered.
“She looks as if she’s come into a fortune,” murmured Beth. “D’you suppose Ernest’s coming home on leave or something?”
“Can’t be already,” hissed Daisy. “He had leave at Christmas.”
At this point, the rest of the Sixths joined them and Miss Burn began the lesson.
“Relay race first,” the Games Mistress announced. “Daisy and Gwensi to pick sides. Then, when you’ve got your fidgets shaken out, we can get down to proper work.”
The girls laughed at this and the two people she had named hurried to choose two teams. Between cheering on the other members of her team and trying to beat Daisy, whose long legs were a definite advantage in things like this – it was not for nothing that her nickname was ‘long-shanks’ – Gwensi managed to forget even her exciting news, which was just what Miss Burn had intended, for the two Heads had mentioned her distraction to the other mistresses during dinner in the hope that someone would have an explanation for it.
For the remainder of the lesson, the girls practiced their lacrosse holds and even managed to practice careful shooting. Miss Burn had Gwensi help her by going around and ensuring that the others were using the correct holds – most members of the Sixth Forms preferred hockey to laxe – which meant that she had little time for her own thoughts.
Much to Beth and Daisy’s irritation, they overheard Matron asking Gwensi if she could take prep for Alixe McNab, who was suffering from a severe headache and had been sent to lie down. For this reason, it was not until after supper that they were able to forcibly drag their friend into Daisy’s study, which, by virtue of being Head Girl, she had alone.
“All right, old thing, what’s up with you?” Daisy demanded, for Gwensi, having peeped at her letter at intervals during prep, was one broad beam.
“Look you, you’ll never guess!” exclaimed Gwensi, her tones more Welsh than usual in her excitement.
“No, we probably shan’t,” agreed Beth, “so tell us!”
Leaping to her feet, Gwensi pulled her letter out of her pocket, unfolded it and, with a dramatic pause while she cleared her throat, proceeded to read the following aloud:
“Dear Miss Howell,
“Thank you very much for the book that you sent us in March. I am happy to be able to tell you that our reader has reported favourably on it and… and…”
Gwensi’s voice, which had trembled with excitement, now broke and tears filled her eyes. Beth and Daisy, who had been staring at her in astonishment, now leapt to their feet and threw themselves at their friend with shrieks of delight.
“Oh, you lucky blighter!” This was Daisy. “I knew you’d be an author some day, Guenever Howell! Fancy, and you’re only just eighteen!”
“Gwen, you sneaky thing, you never even told us!” cried Beth.
Gwensi choked down her sobs and beamed at them. “I didn’t want to tell you in case they said no.”
“But which is it?” demanded Beth. “Which story did you send them?”
“The school story I showed you just before Easter, remember?’
“Ah, so that’s why you were so distracted during the hols,” declared Daisy in satisfied tones.
Gwensi nodded, tucking the precious letter into her pocket and wiping her eyes with her hanky.
“What will Auntie Jo say?” remarked Beth. “She’ll be so proud. She always knew you’d be a real author one day.”
“So did I,” announced Daisy, hugging her friend again, and Beth did the same.
“We always had faith in you.” She beamed. “Just fancy, I know two authors!”
The others laughed. Then Gwensi thought of something. “P’raps I should go and apologise to the Heads, and explain. I was most frightfully rude to them.”
“I should think it’d be a good idea,” agreed Daisy. “They pro’bly think you’ve gone crackers – not that that’s far wrong,” she added kindly.
Gwensi was already leaving the room and didn’t even hear the last part of her speech. An instant later, with a bang of the door, she was gone, leaving behind a pair almost as excited as she was.
Outside the study, she stopped to smooth her hair and ensure that her appearance was at neat as she could make it before knocking.
“Come in.”
Swallowing an unexpected lump in her throat, Gwensi opened the door, entered the room and bobbed the traditional curtsey before closing the door and approaching the large desk at which both women were sitting.
“Well, Gwensi?” Miss Wilson’s tones were hard and showed that the Magazine Prefect was by no means forgiven for her earlier behaviour. “What can we do for you?”
Bravely, Gwensi raised her eyes to meet those of the women opposite, and suddenly felt as she had during the time when the school first came to Plas Howell and she had showed her resentment of their coming by running away. On that occasion, she had been taken down to the study and Miss Annersley had informed her that she was not to be trusted. The atmosphere in the study now was equally as oppressive. Gulping slightly with nerves, Gwensi made the hard beginning.
“I wanted to apologise for my inattention this morning,” she said, steadily looking from one woman to the other. “I honestly didn’t mean to be rude. It was the letter I received today that caused it.”
Pulling the said letter from her pocket, she handed it to Miss Annersley, who unfolded it and held it so that she and her co-Head could read it together. When they looked up, both were smiling and the disapprobation had disappeared.
“Congratulations, Gwensi!” said Miss Annersley warmly. “I can’t say that I’m surprised at your behaviour, if you knew about this.”
“I guessed who the letter would be from,” replied Gwensi, “but I hadn’t yet had the time to read it.”
“Well, that certainly explains it,” agreed Miss Wilson with a laugh.
“May we announce this to the school?” asked Miss Annersley. “I’m sure they would be delighted to know your news.”
Gwensi went scarlet. “I… erm… I suppose so. I hadn’t thought of that. Of course, I’ll give a copy to the library, whenever it’s published.”
“Excellent.” As the bell rang, Miss Annersley rose and walked around the desk to kiss the Magazine Prefect. “I’ll tell the school after Prayers tomorrow morning. You may have the night to prepare yourself for their reaction,” she added, laughing. “Now you must go off to Prayers.”
Miss Wilson handed back the prized letter and Gwensi, with another curtsey, fled the room, leaving the two Heads smiling.
“Another success, Nell,” remarked Miss Annersley as she slipped on her MA gown.
“Should we tell Jo, or leave Gwensi to do that?” asked Miss Wilson.
“Oh, let Gwensi do it, or Daisy might do it for her, I think,” replied Miss Annersley as they left the study.
And to anticipate a little, that is exactly what happened. Daisy and Gwensi spent half term at Jo’s home, Plas Gwyn, and at supper on the first night, Daisy announced her friend’s news to an astonished but delighted audience. After writing the news to her family, Gwensi received letters from her stepbrothers and -sisters, all announcing their pride in their baby sister’s achievements. In time, the book itself appeared and Gwensi, thrilled at being a real authoress, proudly sent her old school a copy for the library.

#2: Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!!

Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2004 1:38 am

Thank you very much Secret Santa! That was a lovely drabble!!! And just what I needed to cheer me up!!

*sitting here trying to work out Santa's identity from the writing style......*

#3: Author: JustJen, Location: waiting for a bus

Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2004 3:08 am

Great fic

#4: Author: ali, Location: medway, kent

Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2004 9:12 pm

You're working very hard Santa, don't tire yourself out too much before the big day, or should I say night. Thanks for the lovely story, I always wondered whether Gwensi had made it as an authoress, and now I know!

#5: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2004 9:59 pm

A lovely scene to do, thanks santa.

#6: Author: Susan, Location: Carlisle

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 1:09 am

Thank you Santa

#7: Author: KB, Location: Melbourne, Australia

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 4:03 am

Good for Gwensi! I wonder how Joey feels at having to share her laurels...

#8: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 8:38 am

KB wrote:

Good for Gwensi! I wonder how Joey feels at having to share her laurels...

Oooooh, that could be a fun one to write, Joey tryiong to take out Gwensi cos of the challenge to her position as 'school author'. Are you going to do it KB? Razz

#9: Author: KB, Location: Melbourne, Australia

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 8:52 am

*laughs hollowly* In what spare time, Carolyn, dear?

#10: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 12:47 pm

KB wrote:

*laughs hollowly* In what spare time, Carolyn, dear?

In the spare time that it is so important for you health and general wellbeing that you have...you need to relax and what could be more relaxing that a bit of Joey bashing, or death stalking Gwensi through Plas Howell??? Twisted Evil

#11: Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 12:58 pm

Thank you Santa. Lovely tale and another little bit filled in!

#12: Author: KB, Location: Melbourne, Australia

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 7:05 pm

Carolyn P wrote:

KB wrote:

*laughs hollowly* In what spare time, Carolyn, dear?

*unable to help giggling* Why don't I leave it for your twisted imagination instead?

#13: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 8:42 pm

Well I will presume that is a compliment and try to shake the image of Joey, dressed in fatigues, armed with an uzi and a carving knife between her teeth, stalking poor Gwensi down the corridors.

Gwensi feels her prescence, but turning can see nothing as Joey slithers back into the shadow. Gwensi shivers and continues on her way, unaware of death creeping ever closer.

Joey casts a shadow that is uncannily like a grim reaper, and the death march plays in the background.

As Gwensi walks slowly towards the prefects room Joey creeps ever closer, but at each turn holds back and we think Gwensi will reach safety, until at the last moment she turns a corner and Joey reaches out, arm around her from behind and hand expertly over her mouth, stifling her screams.

The next we see is Gwensi laid artistically on the floor, her head hanging at ampossible angle, while Joey methodicaly cleans the knife on Gwensi's gymslip.

The last scene is Joey, walking down the long drive of Plas Howell, trees blowing in the wind, darkness settling in, singing to herself. As we get closer we can hear the words, "There can be only one"

No inspiration here at all!! Laughing

#14: Author: Pat, Location: Doncaster

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 8:58 pm

Brilliant Carolyn!! Not twisted at all! Rolling Eyes

#15: Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!!

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 9:01 pm

LOLOLOLOL!

Has someone been watching 'Highlander ' then Carolyn? Wink

#16: Author: KB, Location: Melbourne, Australia

Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2004 10:06 pm

*shrieks madly with laughter*

Now you see why I left it to you!

Laughing

#17: Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!!

Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2004 9:58 am

Wonderful story, thank you Santa, and a marvellous scene Carolyn Very Happy

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