CBB Advent calendar: December 20th
The CBB -> Cookies & Drabbles

#1: CBB Advent calendar: December 20th Author: CBB Triumvirate PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 8:38 am


The girl curled up in the corner of the window seat was lost to the world around her, completely involved in the book she was reading - a new book, a book written by her favourite author. Susan loved school stories with a passion and her greatest wish was to go to boarding school herself. That was impossible of course. The money simply was not there for anything of that sort, so Susan attended the local Grammar School with the rest of her friends. Now she was lost in the world of the Chalet School when it had been based in Austria. It was the Autumn term and the girls were out for a walk around the lake. Susan could almost feel the cold, breathe the clear air of the Austrian Alps as she read, the sounds of her normal life fading around her.

“I don’t like the look of that sky,” Miss Wilson said to her great friend Con Stewart. “It looks like snow. I think we ought to head back to the school as quickly as possible.” She raised her voice so that the long file of girls ahead of her could hear her clearly. “Girls, we must get back to school as quickly as we can. I think we are in for some snow. Turn around and walk as quickly as you can.”
As one the girls turned and moved swiftly back towards the Chalet School. Susan looked up at the clear sky with only a wisp of cloud over the far mountain tops.
“It looks lovely to me,” she said to her partner Yvette Mercier.
“Bill knows the weather around here,” said Yvette. “If she thinks we might get snow, we probably will. Come to think about it, the light looks almost too bright if you know what I mean.”
Susan hardly heard her as she suddenly realised that she was here, in Tyrol, at the Chalet School and not at her own home, reading about it! She looked down at herself as she hurried along. An old-fashioned gym-slip under a thick brown coat. Fawn lisle stockings disappearing into sensible brown lace-up shoes that she normally wouldn’t be seen dead in. Brown woollen gloves on her hands, and she could feel that she was also wearing a beret like the other girls around her. She glanced up again as the sun disappeared behind the great yellowish clouds that were boiling up over the horizon and she shivered. How had she got here? And, more importantly, how was she to get home again?

She didn’t have time to think much about that for the next half hour as they were rushed back to the Chalet at breakneck speed. It did cross her mind as Bill counted them all back in through the side door that they all seemed to know her, to accept her as one of themselves. She followed the crowd down the corridor into a room that she quickly realised must be the middles splashery. Standing by the door she slowly began to unfasten her coat when Evadne lannis shouted to her, “here’s your shoe bag, better hurry up or Matey will be on your case.” Susan took the proffered bag greatly, glad to see where she should place her things if nothing else. Breathing a sigh of relief that either it was English day or the middles were not as law-abiding on that front as EBD had written them she quickly finished getting changed and washed her hands, all the time wishing for a toilet and hoping she could figure out how to get home before she had an embarrassing accident.

It was fortunate for Susan that the girls went straight to Kaffee und Kuchen, as this gave her time to marshal her thoughts. She recognised the long tables with their checked cloths and gaily coloured glasses, baskets brimming with bread twists, and sat down in the place Cornelia Flower pulled her into with a hissed “Watch out, you’ll have prefects chasing you if you wonder round like that.” Susan took her drink gratefully and began to wonder who they all thought she was. She realised that the way Evadne and Cornelia were pulling her around that not only was she a friend of theirs, but was also behaving in a not too out of character way. She had not seen the name on her shoe bag clearly, but had seen enough to know that it was not Susan.

The meal finished the girls rose for grace and them ambled back to the common room. This was where Susan got an even bigger shock.
“Margia Stevens, what are you doing here, quick take your Bach and run, Herr Anserl is waiting for you in the music room, and he will be in an awful strop if you are much later,” Frieda Mensch pushed a pile of music into her arms and hurried her out of the room, leaving a bewildered Susan stood in the corridor watching the prefect disappear into the distance.

Susan sneaked a look at the music and gasped, she had never learned to read music, and piano was beyond her as were most musical abilities. She was not quite tone deaf, but those who had heard her considered her to be a very borderline case. The sight of the complicated music took her breath away. How on earth was she to explain to the gruff music master why she, the school’s musical genius suddenly could not read music, much less play a single note.

She did not have the least idea where the music room was and did not see how she could possibly ask the way. Her need for relief returned at that moment, compounding her misery. Realising that she couldn’t hang around in the corridor without getting into trouble, she set off in the direction in which she happened to be facing. It was only then that she began to wonder where the real Margia was, and if they had swapped places somehow. There was no one who could answer that question, and as she spotted the Splasheries at that moment she forgot it and ducked through the door, logic telling her that she had to find what she wanted somewhere in there. She was right, for she spotted what she wanted tucked away in a corner and made a dive for it.
Emerging from her sanctuary a few moments later she found herself face to face with a Mistress and she stopped in her tracks.
“Margia ma cherie, why are you not with Herr Anserl? Surely it is the time for your lesson?”
Susan realised that this must be Mlle, the Head of the Chalet School, She looked as kind as she had expected and she was almost tempted to blurt out her story. It was only the knowledge that she could not possibly be believed that stopped her, and she muttered an excuse and fled down the corridor, leaving a very puzzled Frenchwoman staring after her. Hearing footsteps approaching, she died through the nearest door to escape and found herself in a large walk-in cupboard, evidently used to store textbooks, for the shelves had scattered piles of books here and there.

Meanwhile where was Margia? She had been walking along the path beside Yvette, enjoying the exercise and the fresh air when suddenly she was indoors, sitting in a bedroom that was very pretty, but not hers. She was no longer wearing her uniform either, she noticed, but a jumper and some sort of trousers made of heavy blue cotton. The room was warm, heated by a radiator, and the curtains were pulled tightly over the window. She stood up and walked across to them, twitching one to one side and looked out. It was a typical British suburban street that she saw, lit by lights set at intervals, and certainly nowhere in Austria. As she stood looking out in dismay she heard a door open downstairs and a voice calling.
“Susan! Teas ready my dear! Put that book away and come down.”
Margia turned look at the door, unsure what she should do. The call had been for her - or the person who should have been there - and she would be looked for if she didn’t go down. So she took a deep breath and went downstairs, hoping that she could bluff her way through the meal. Luckily for her Susan was often absent-minded when she had been reading and Margia succeeded in hiding her confusion. She contrived to be the one who washed up rather than dried the tea things, so that she could hide her lack of knowledge of where anything belonged.
“Have you done all your homework Susan?” her ‘mother’ asked as the last cup was put away.
“Just about,” said Margia. “I do have a little for finish off though.” And she fled upstairs to hide.
Susan had a brainwave as she hid in the cupboard. If she reported herself to Matey with a headache she could get out of the music lesson, which would give her time to try and think what she was to do. She would be found out before long she was sure, especially if she had to play the piano or sing. Before long she was tucked up in bed, having choked down the inevitable mug of hot milk, and there she remained until morning.
There was a strange silence hanging over everything when she woke up the next morning. It was still dark, and there was no sound of anyone moving, so she climbed out of bed, shivering in the cold, and looked out of the window. It had been snowing and the ground was covered with a white blanket. She was till gazing out in delight when a great clanging of a bell indicated that it was time to get up, dark or not.
“Come on Margia. You’re first bath remember,” came Corney’s voice over the hubbub as the rest of the dorm woke up.
Cold baths! Susan knew that that was what was meant and she balked at the thought. Then the curtains around her cubey were pulled back and Corney appeared, wrapped in her dressing gown and carrying a sponge bag.
“What are you doing like that?” she demanded. “You’ll catch your death of cold! Hurry up, do or you’ll hold everyone up!”
“Cornelia! Is that you forgetting that it’s German day?” came a voice from the doorway, though poor Susan understood not one word. The speaker was a tall person, a Prefect she guessed, with black hair cut in an old fashioned bob and black eyes.
“Sorry Jo. I forgot! Margia’s being slower than usual this morning.” Corney said in passable German. She pulled Susan down the corridor to the bathroom and shoved her into the bath cubicle she was to use. Susan ran the tap and made appropriate splashing noises, before emerging at the same time as her mentor and flying back to the dorm. The books had certainly not misled her about the lack of time in the mornings, and she had hardly had time to breathe before she was back in the Speisesaal for Fruhstuck. Keeping silent, since she had no idea what the conversation around her was about, she ate a good breakfast. Then they all repaired to the Splasheries, where they put on their outdoor clothes again. The only difference was that now they had to put on the big nailed boots which stood in each shoe locker, and which would be needed in the icy conditions outside. The cold air stung Susan’s face and brought a flush to her cheeks. The crisp clean air was a joy and if she had not been so frightened she would have enjoyed herself immensely. As it was, all she could think about was getting home and she tramped along in silence.
In England, Margia had got through breakfast without arousing too much suspicion, or at least she hoped so. She had found a school uniform hanging up and put it on, though it was not what she was used to. There was a black flared skirt, a white blouse with a crisp collar like a man’s shirt, and a black and silver striped tie. The stocking were a revelation to her, for they were very fine and made of some sort of silky stuff which clung to her legs and looked so much smarter than the heavy lisle ones she was used to wearing. Like Susan her brain was working nineteen to the dozen, trying to figure out how she could get back to the Tiernsee, but she had no idea how this was to be accomplished. She knew that she would be caught out eventually, though and was very frightened.
As Susan walked around the lake, kept moving by the escorting Mistress, she realised that they were retracing the path they had taken yesterday. The mountains hanging over the lake looked wonderful in their coating of fresh snow, and the lake water looked almost black against the white surroundings. Whatever happened she wouldn’t have missed this, she thought. As they reached the point where she had found herself walking with the school, the landscape blurred around her, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them she was walking down her road, on the way to school, dressed in her own uniform. She breathed a sigh of relief, wondering if it had all been a dream, or whether it had really happened.

 


#2: CBB Advent calendar: December 20th Author: TahneeLocation: New Zealand PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 9:05 am


thanks, Triumvirate, I'm really enjoying these. Haven't been game to suggest an answer yet, but here goes:
Margia Stevens
"I don't like the look of that sky"
mug of hot milk

 


#3:  Author: SusanLocation: Carlisle PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 9:55 am


Thank you Trimvirate.

Evadne Lannis

Cold baths

'I don't like the look of that sky.'

 


#4:  Author: Amanda MLocation: Wakefield PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 10:24 am


Yvette Mercier
nailed boots
“I don’t like the look of that sky”

Star Wars

 


#5:  Author: LauraLocation: London (ish) PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 11:25 am


Cornelia Flower

Nailed boots

"the school’s musical genius"

 


#6:  Author: AnnLocation: Newcastle upon Tyne, England PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 1:04 pm


I think this is the one I suggested, in which case it's:

Margia Stevens

big nailed boots

"I don't like the look of that sky"

 


#7:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 3:47 pm


That was marvellous, Triumvirate!! Thank you!

 


#8:  Author: nikkie PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 7:28 pm


Margia Stevens

nailed boots

"I don't like the look of that sky"

 


#9:  Author: Helen PLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 9:10 pm


That was excellent!! I'm enjoying these so much - will be sad when advent is over Sad

(But happy that it will be Christmas! Santa )

Margia Stevens
Cold baths
I don't like the look of that sky

 


#10:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 9:11 pm


Margia Stevens
sponge bag
"You’re first bath remember"

Quote:
she died through the nearest door
Poor Susan! Shocked Laughing

 


#11:  Author: ellendLocation: Bow, London PostPosted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 10:45 pm


Very good

Margia Stevens

splashery

“It looks like snow. I think we ought to head back to the school as quickly as possible.”


Ellen

 


#12:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Tue Dec 21, 2004 7:52 am


Herr Anserl
cold baths
"I don't like the look of that sky"

Liz

 


#13:  Author: CBB Triumvirate PostPosted: Tue Dec 21, 2004 11:14 am


Well remembered Ann! And Nikkie guessed it too!

Margia Stevens
Nailed boots
‘I don’t like the look of that sky…’

 




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