14 problems for amanda
poor jo lamented loud and long to deirdre about her bad luck. to think that matron had the money! how in the world could she explain to matron that she had had five pounds—five whole pounds—and not handed it in for safe custody as usual?
“jo, you’ll just have to go and tell her,” said deirdre, anxiously. “if you don’t, you might not get the money back, ever. if matron doesn’t know who it belongs to, how can she give it back?”
“well, i suppose i’d better,” said jo. but she had no sooner got to the door than she came back. “i can’t,” she said to deirdre. “i daren’t face her. don’t think me a coward, deirdre, but honestly i shake at the knees when matron puts on that face of hers and says the most awful things.”
timid little deirdre had never had any awful things said to her by matron, but she knew she would feel the same as jo if she had. she stared at jo. how were they to get out of the difficulty?
“jo—i suppose you couldn’t slip into matron’s room when she’s not there, and just see if the money is lying anywhere about, could you?” she said, in a half-whisper. “after all—it’s yours. you would only be taking what belongs to you!”
jo’s little eyes gleamed. “yes!” she said. “i might be able to do that—if only matron has got the money somewhere loose. i know i’ve seen some tied up in neat packages on her table sometimes—to pay the kitchen staff, i suppose. she might have put mine there, too, ready to hand out to the loser.”
“she wouldn’t hand it out,” said deirdre. “you know that. she’d keep it and dole it out. all the lower-formers have their pocket-money doled out to them. you’d probably get just a bit of it each week, and the rest would be handed back to you when you go home for the holidays.”
jo frowned. “i meant to spend that money on a terrific feast,” she said. “it’s my birthday soon, you know. i simply must get it somehow.”
“sh,” said deirdre. “someone’s coming.”
it was felicity. she poked her nose round the door and grinned. “got your money back yet, jo?” she said. “or are you going to make a present of it to matron? i know i wouldn’t care to go and own up to having five pounds—especially if i had been careless enough to lose it too! what an ass you are.”
“shut up, felicity,” said jo. “i’ve had enough of people getting at me all the time. i can’t think why you’re all on to me every minute of the day. anyone would think i wasn’t fit to be at malory towers.”
as this was exactly what most of the second-formers did think, felicity made no reply. jo never would fit, she was certain. if she had had parents who would have backed up the school, and helped jo, there might have been a chance for her.
“but they laugh at the rules of the school, they tell jo not to bother to keep any rule if she doesn’t want to, they send her parcels of things she’s not supposed to have, and far too much money,” thought felicity, going off to practise serving at tennis. “her father keeps saying she’s only to enjoy herself, and not to bother to work hard—he was always at the bottom of the form, and yet now he’s rolling in money—so he thinks it doesn’t matter if jo’s at the bottom too!”
it was puzzling that some parents backed up their children properly, and some didn’t. surely if you loved your children you did try to bring them up to be decent in every way? and yet jo’s father seemed to love her. it puzzled felicity. if he really did love her, how could he encourage her to break rules, to be lazy, to do all the wrong things? how could he laugh when he read disapproving remarks on jo’s reports?
“jo said he clapped her on the back and roared with laughter when he read what miss parker had written at the bottom of her report last term,” remembered felicity. “what was it she wrote now? ‘jo has not yet learnt the first lesson of all—the difference between plain right and wrong. she will not get very far until she faces up to this lesson.’ gosh—if i’d had that on my report, daddy would have been broken-hearted, and i should have got the most awful rowing. but jo’s father only laughed!”
felicity found susan, who was going to take her practice serves. soon they were on a court, and felicity was lamming the balls hard at the patient susan. amanda wandered up after a time and watched. felicity redoubled her efforts at serving well.
since amanda had taken on june and was training her so well, every lower-former hoped to be singled out for a little attention from the big sixth-former. felicity sent down one or two fast serves, and susan called out to amanda.
“she’s good, isn’t she, amanda?”
“so-so,” said amanda, and turned away, not appearing in the least interested.
“beast!” said susan, under her breath. “moira would at least have said yes or no—and if felicity was doing something wrong she’d have set her right, and if she was doing well, she would have praised her.”
actually amanda had hardly noticed felicity’s play. she was thinking hard about something. about two things, in fact. she was worried about june—not about her progress, which was, in fact, amazing. amanda knew how and what to teach, and june was a very able and quick pupil—but june was getting tired of amanda’s strictness and lack of all praise. she was becoming annoyed with the sharp commands and curt orders. it had never been easy for june to knuckle under to anyone, and to be ordered about by someone she really disliked was getting a little too much for her.
she had said so to amanda the day before. amanda had taught her a fast new swimming-stroke, and had insisted on her thrashing her way up and down the pool, up and down. then she had gone for june because she hadn’t paid attention to some of her shouted instructions.
“you deliberately swam all the way up the pool using your legs wrong,” she said. “i yelled at you, but you went on and on.”
“do you suppose i can hear a word when water is in my ears, and my arms are thrashing over my head like thunder?” demanded the panting june. “it’s true that even the school could probably hear your voice, and no doubt they could even hear it at the post office, a mile away—it’s always loud enough! but i couldn’t, so you’d better get a megaphone. though i grant you your voice is better than any megaphone, at any time, in any place. why, even at church . . .”
“that’s enough,” said amanda, angrily. “i don’t take cheek from a second-former.”
“and i’m beginning to feel i won’t take orders from a sixth-former,” said june, drying herself with a towel. “i’ve had almost enough. so i warn you, amanda.”
amanda was about to say something really cutting, but stopped herself. she had begun to be very proud of june. june was a most marvellous pupil, although unfriendly and usually silent. it would be a pity to stop the coaching now that june was almost as perfect as she could hope to be at tennis and swimming. she was quite good enough for the second team now, and amanda meant to ask to have her tried out for it in a week or two’s time.
so amanda turned away, fuming inwardly, but trying not to show it. june grinned to herself. she knew quite well that amanda didn’t want to give up the coaching now that june was proving her right in what she had said to the others. “all the same,” thought june, “i’m getting tired of it. this is a most unpleasant term, slaving like this. do i really, honestly, care enough about being in the second team to go through all this? i’m not sure that i do!”
that was june all over, of course. if she took enough trouble, and cared enough, she could shine at anything. but there seemed to be a flaw in her strong character that caused her not to care enough about things.
june was one of the problems that occupied amanda’s mind. the other was her own swimming. swimming was perhaps her most magnificent achievement in the sports line. to see amanda hurtle across the pool was a sight in itself. nobody could swim even one half as fast. even the small first-formers stopped their chattering when amanda took the water.
and what amanda was thinking hard about was her swimming. the pool wasn’t enough for her. she wanted to swim right out to sea. how could she get enough practice for really long-distance swimming if she didn’t swim in the sea? the pool was wonderful—wide and long and deep—but after all, it was only a pool. amanda wanted to swim for at least a mile! “two miles,” she thought, exultantly, “three miles! i am strong enough to swim the channel, i really do believe.”
at trenigan, where her old school had been, the sea coast was safer than the treacherous cornish coast at malory towers, with its strong currents, and vicious rocks on which great waves pounded day and night. but amanda was sure she could overcome even a strong current.
no one was allowed to swim right out to sea at malory towers. that was an unbreakable rule. anyone wanting real sea-bathing from the shore could go in a party to another beach some way along, and bathe in safety from there. but no one was allowed to swim out from the shore at malory towers.
no one ever wanted to! enormous waves ran up the rocks to the pool. even on a calm day, the blue water surged and heaved, and swept with great force over the rocks. amanda, who loved the strength of water, longed to battle with the fierce sea here. she was quite fearless in all physical things.
she had hardly seen felicity’s tennis, as she stood by the court, idly following the ball with her eyes. should she take a chance, and go swimming out to sea some time? she didn’t much care if she got into a row or not. she wasn’t going to stay very long at malory towers, and the rules didn’t frighten her! she suddenly made up her mind.
“i will go swimming out to sea,” she decided. “i’ve talked to jack the fisher-boy, and he’s told me what currents there are. if i went down to the edge of the rocks at low tide i could dive off into deep water, and avoid the worst currents by swimming to the west, and then straight out. i should be all right.”
the thing was—when could she do this unnoticed? not that she minded getting into a row—but it was silly to do that if it could be avoided. amanda turned the matter over in her mind.
“early morning would be best,” she thought. “very early morning. nobody would be about then. i could have about an hour and a half’s real swimming. it would be heaven!”
having settled that, amanda felt happy. she wished she could settle the june business as easily. but that didn’t altogether rest with her! she wasn’t going to give in to june’s ideas as to how she should be coached, and if june chose to be rude and make things difficult, then there might be a serious row.
“i don’t want one!” said amanda to herself. “but if june provokes one, perhaps it will clear the air, and let her know where she stands. i’m certainly not going to put up with any nonsense, and i think if it came to the point june wouldn’t be idiot enough to throw away her chance of being put in the second school teams.”
