15 half-term

half-term came and went. it was brilliant weather and the parents thoroughly enjoyed themselves wandering over the school grounds and down by the sea.

the enclosed garden, set in the hollow square in the middle of the four-towered building, was very popular. it was crammed with hundreds upon hundreds of rosebushes, and the sight and scent of these filled the fathers and mothers with delight.

“i’m glad malory towers is at its very best my last half-term,” darrell said to her mother, as she took her to see the roses. “i shall always remember it like this. oh, mother, thank you a thousand times for choosing this school for me. i’ve been so happy here.”

her mother squeezed her arm. “you’ve done very well indeed at malory towers,” she said. “all the mistresses have been telling me how much they will miss you, and what a help you’ve always been. they are glad you have a sister to follow in your footsteps!”

gwen went by with her mother and miss winter. “my last half-term!” she was saying. “fancy, my next half-term will be in switzerland. i’m sure i shall be much happier there than i’ve ever been here.”

gwen’s father had not come. gwen was glad. “i was afraid he might come and spoil everything,” she said to her mother. “he was so horrid to us last holidays, wasn’t he?”

“he would have come,” said miss winter. “but he’s not well. he hasn’t really been well for some time, gwen. you should have written to him this term, you know. i really do think you should.”

“it’s not your business,” said gwen, coldly. “honestly you can’t always tell whether daddy isn’t well, or is just bad-tempered, can you, mother? anyway, we shan’t miss him today.”

“where’s maureen?” asked mrs. lacy. maureen, so like gwen, with her fluffy golden hair and big, pale-blue eyes, was quite a favourite with mrs. lacy and the old governess. but gwen wasn’t going to have anything to do with maureen that day! maureen “sucked up” to gwen’s people and they just loved it.

“maureen’s got her own people here today,” she said. “poor maureen—i’m sorry for her, mother. she’s not going to a finishing school, or even to college of any sort. she’s just going to take a secretarial course, and go into somebody’s office!”

jo’s people came by, with jo hanging on to her father’s arm. the big, loud-voiced, vulgar man could, as usual, be heard all over the place.

“not a bad little rose-garden this, jo, eh?” he said. “course it’s not a patch on ours. let’s see, ma, how many roses have we got in our rose-garden?”

“five thousand,” said mrs. jones, in a low voice. she was always rather overawed by the other parents, and she was beginning to wish that her husband wasn’t quite so loud and bumptious. she had caught sight of a few astonished glances, and a few sly smiles. she wondered if she had put on too much jewellery?

she had. she “dripped with diamonds”, as june said to susan. “i’m only surprised she doesn’t have a diamond nose-ring, as well as all the rest,” said june. “i’ve a good mind to suggest it to jo. she could pass on the idea, perhaps.”

“no, don’t,” said susan, afraid of june’s unkind wit. “she can’t help having such parents. oh, isn’t her father dreadful this time?”

he really was. he had cornered miss parker, jo’s form mistress, and was blaring at her in his fog-horn voice.

“how’s our jo getting along?”

“well, miss parker—how’s our jo getting along? naughtiest girl in the form as usual? ah, well—they’re always the most popular, aren’t they? the things i used to do as a boy. my name’s charlie, so they called me cheeky charlie at school! the things i said to my teachers! ha ha ha!”

miss parker made no reply. she merely looked disgusted. jo felt frightened. she knew that face of miss parker’s. she had a feeling that miss parker might say something that even cheeky charlie wouldn’t like.

her father went blundering on. “well, you haven’t said a word about our jo. she’s a card, isn’t she? ha ha—bet she calls you nosey parker!” and he actually gave miss parker a dig in the ribs!

“i have nothing to say about jo except that she apparently takes after her father,” said miss parker, scarlet with annoyance. she turned away to speak to darrell’s mother, who had come to her rescue. everyone always hoped to be rescued from mr. jones!

“daddy! you shouldn’t have said that,” said jo, in great distress. “that was awful. you made her angry. please don’t say things like that.”

“well, i like that!” said mr. jones, tipping his hat back on his head and scratching the top of his forehead. “what did i say? oh—i was being old cheeky charlie again, was i? well, you do call her nosey parker, don’t you? my word, there’s your head. i must have a word with her!”

jo tried to pull him back, and cast an agonized glance at her mother. jo was beginning to realize that her father hadn’t very good manners. why, why, why did he shout so, why did he always have such a bright red shiny face, why did he poke people in the ribs and tell silly jokes? why did he barge in on people when they were talking together, and interrupt them?

he was doing that now. jo hadn’t been able to prevent him from going right up to the little group in which the head mistress stood, talking to three or four parents. her mother was blushing red. she too knew that “cheeky charlie” was not at his best.

“hallo, hallo, hallo!” said mr. jones, walking right into the middle of the group, and holding out a great red hand to miss grayling. “you’re like the queen of england today, aren’t you—holding court, with us poor parents as subjects! ha ha ha!”

mr. jones was so pleased with this brilliant remark that he was quite overcome, and beamed round, expecting much approval and admiration.

he got none. miss grayling shook hands politely and then dropped mr. jones’s great paw immediately. “how do you do?” she murmured, and turned back to the parent she was speaking to. not one of them looked at mr. jones; but cheeky charlie had a very thick skin and didn’t notice things like that.

“i hope our jo’s a credit to her school,” he began again. “her pa wasn’t! he was a naughty boy, he was—always at the bottom of the form, wasn’t he, ma? well, the school’s looking fine, miss grayling!”

“thank you,” said miss grayling. “i’m afraid i must ask you to excuse me for a few minutes, whilst i finish my talk to dr. and mrs. leyton.”

mrs. jones pulled at his arm. “come away, charlie,” she begged, thinking that her husband must really have got a touch of sunstroke. he always did behave like this, of course, and shout and boast—but somehow it didn’t show so much at home, among his own friends. here it suddenly seemed very vulgar and out of place.

mr. jones was about to address a few hearty words to dr. leyton, when he caught an extraordinarily icy look in that distinguished-looking gentleman’s eye. it reminded cheeky charlie of one of his old headmasters who had once told him exactly what he thought of him. mr. jones backed away, mumbling something.

miss grayling sighed with relief. “i’m sorry,” she said to the other parents. “it was an experiment, taking jo—but i’m afraid it’s not an experiment that’s going to work out well. we’ve had other experiments before, as you know—taking girls that don’t really fit in, hoping they will, later. and so far they always have done, in a marvellous way. i think jo would too, if only she got a little backing from her parents. but her father always undoes any good we do here for jo!”

“let’s go to another part of the grounds,” said one of the other parents in the group. “i feel it would be safer!”

jo was relieved to see the head going off in another direction. oh dear—she really would have to take her father in hand and tell him a few things. she looked rather downcast and her father squeezed her arm. “what’s up, old lady?” he said, in a kindly voice. “cheer up! i don’t like to see my little jo not smiling. her old dad would do anything in the world for her!”

jo cheered up at the love in his voice. blow miss parker and miss grayling and everyone else! it was half-term and nobody should spoil it. she pulled at her mother’s arm.

“mother! can i ask deirdre, my friend, to come and be with us today? her father’s at sea and she’s got no mother. so she’s alone today.”

“yes, you ask her,” said her father in his booming voice, before her mother could answer. “we’ll give her a slap-up time. i’m glad you’ve got a friend at last, jo! you never seemed to have one before.”

so deirdre was asked to join the jones’s, and was pleased to have someone to go out with, though mr. jones really scared her with his loud, booming voice and jovial ways.

“so you’re my jo’s friend, are you?” he boomed at her. “well, you stick by my jo, she’s worth it, my jo is. what’s your name? deirdre? well, we’ll send you some stunning parcels, won’t we, ma? you stick by jo, deirdre!”

“yes,” stammered deirdre, almost deafened.

“what about that five pounds auntie sent you the other week?” inquired mrs. jones, as soon as she could get a word in. “we never heard if you got it. have you got it safe?”

jo hesitated. she was afraid to tell her mother that she had dropped it, and that matron had it, and that she, jo, hadn’t dared to go and get it back. if her father knew that, he would go right up to matron and demand the five pounds then and there, for his precious jo! that was simply unthinkable.

“it’s quite safe,” muttered jo, and racked her brains to think how to change the subject.

“oh well—if you’ve got that five pounds untouched, i won’t give you any more at present,” said her mother. “five pounds is enough to keep in your drawer, or wherever you keep it. you can write if you want any more.”

jo didn’t know what to say. she had hoped her mother would give her more money—then she wouldn’t need to go poking about in matron’s room for the five pounds. poor jo hadn’t screwed up her courage to peep inside matron’s room yet. she had no money at all except for a few pence left from her week’s pocket-money—the shilling handed out by matron.

half-term flashed by. the parents departed by car and train, except for bill’s father and mother, who came and went on horseback, much to bill’s delight and clarissa’s. their half-term had been spent in riding over the cliffs, the horses enjoying the half-term as much as anyone!

“my last half-term gone,” mourned darrell. “now i’m facing my very last few weeks!”

“cheer up!” said alicia. “a lot can happen in a few weeks.” she was right. a lot did happen—and most of it was really very unexpected!