CHAPTER SIX: A SHOCKING IDEA!
LEN threw the Head an involuntary glance as she silently obeyed. One did not argue with Matey, especially when she was looking like this!
“What’s the matter, Gwynneth?” Miss Annersley asked, startled.
“I’m not quite sure, but I’m starting to have my suspicions. It might be an idea to call Jack Maynard, Hilda. Or Reg, at a pinch. But preferably none of the other doctors.”
“But- but why?” gasped Len.
“There’s something wrong with that new girl in your form, Len, and I want to know what it is!”
“Grainne? But she seems healthy enough!” Len protested.
“That’s as maybe,” Matey retorted briskly. “Appearances can be deceptive. I’ve had my eye on that child for some time.”
“Any particular reason?” the Head queried.
“She’s been very tired recently, haven’t you noticed, Len?”
“I have,” Len admitted, “but when I asked her about it she said that she hadn’t always been sleeping well and that you’d spoken to her, so I left it.”
“That was true at the beginning of term, but it’s not true now.”
“It isn’t ? So why does she still look exhausted? She hasn’t got a history of chest trouble or anything, does she?” Len asked, turning to the Head, who was beginning to look disturbed.
“No. Well, not as far as we know. Are you sure she’s sleeping, Gwyn?”
“Positive. I’ve had a watch kept on her, and she sleeps like a top now- well, most of them do. It’s this air! And I’ve had to speak to her about another thing, lately.”
“What’s that, then?” Mentally, Len was wondering what one of the most harmless members of her form had done to warrant this level of attention from the school’s eagle eyed domestic tyrant.
“She’s been picking at her food in the mornings these past weeks. I had her into the San and she said she’d been feeling a little queasy, so I gave her a tonic and dry bread to settle her stomach. She never seems to have any problems with Abendessen, however. It’s got worse this week, though, as she’s been physically sick in the mornings.”
Len nodded slowly. “I have noticed that she’s been out of school before Break lately,” she said. “But I just assumed that she was having some kind of bilious attack.”
“That’s certainly what it sounds like, Gwyn,” Miss Annersley pointed out. “Do you remember the symptoms Joan Bertram used to have?”
“I do. But I don’t think this is simple biliousness. That’s why I want the girl to see Jack Maynard, just to rule out all the possibilities. We don’t want another case like Joan’s, or like Kathie Ferrar’s appendicitis a few years ago.”
“We certainly don’t,” the Head agreed. “Especially if it is something like that. It must be seen to as soon as possible, if only to reassure us that we’re not letting ourselves in for a repeat of Julie Lucy’s peritonitis!”
Matey’s grim expression relaxed a little, and she laughed. “That attack of Julie’s has almost become a legend- among the Staff, at any rate! But you needn’t worry, Hilda. I’m as sure as I can be that this Grainne child is not suffering from anything of the kind. Well, there’s no sense in talking. I’ll go back over to my own quarters and make that call now. I’m sure Jack will let you know if there’s anything to report. Len, you might like to talk to the girl this morning, if you can. She’s so nervous and jittery that I can hardly get anything out of her!” and with that, Matron departed, whilst Len murmured something to the Head and fled, before her giggles could overcome her. She could well believe that Matron’s brisk air and formidable reputation had terrified the new girl, but she was tickled by Matey’s indignation at her failure to win Grainne’s confidence.
Later on that day, following her lesson with her form, Mrs Entwistle requested Grainne to stay behind for a moment. Cecil gave her sister a questioning look as she passed, but Mrs Entwistle deliberately ignored her. Once the big room had been emptied of girls, Len turned to her pupil, who was starting to look frightened.
“How are you, Grainne?” the mistress began, rather abruptly.
Grainne stared. “I-I’m very well, thank you, Mrs Entwistle,” she murmured in response, and Len noted that the nervous stammer with which the girl had begun her time at the school had almost completely vanished. So much gained, at least!
“Matron tells me you’ve been having tummy trouble lately. Is there anything you can think of to account for it?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so.”
Len looked at her searchingly. Cecil and Co. were renowned for their wild pranks. “No secret midnight binges, no ghost stories, nothing like that?”
“Oh no,Mrs Entwistle!” Grainne’s voice was so shocked that her form mistress repressed a grin.
“In that case, there must be a physical explanation. You’re also looking very tired, as well. Are you sure you’re sleeping?”
Grainne was starting to look nervous. Why all this concern about her health? “Oh yes. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. I sometimes have trouble getting up though!”
Len laughed. “Yes, well. That’s a common problem for people your age! What about during the day- do you feel energetic or do you get tired?”
“Well, sometimes I do get very very tired,” the girl admitted. “I don’t know why, honestly I don’t! I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never used to get these sick spells or this tiredness and its really frustrating, you know?” In her earnestness Grainne forgot the formality with which she usually addressed all members of staff. Len remained silent and let her continue. “Sometimes, I just want to go to bed and sleep and sleep. And other times I feel sick at the idea of food, but I really have to force myself to eat it now, or Matey- oh, I mean, Matron- will give me some castor oil, and that makes me even sicker! Then at other times I really really want something to eat, and sometimes it’s the weirdest things! Cecil always laughs at me.” Grainne ran down at that point, suddenly aware that her form mistress’ face had gone almost rigid.
Mrs Entwistle realised that the girl was staring at her and she pulled herself together. She managed a weak smile and then said, as briskly as she could, “I’m sure we’ll find out what the problem is soon enough. Matron is going to ask Dr. Maynard or my husband to have a look at you.” Len stopped and frowned to herself. The idea that had come to her with such unwelcome suddenness was lingering unpleasantly. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing. “I think I’ll also ask Dr. Venables to have a look at you as well. She doesn’t practice very often now because of the children, but she’s always willing to lend a hand when asked. What do you think?” Len gave Grainne a look that was almost hard as she posed the question.
Grainne’s changeable eyes remained as clear as ever, and she met Len’s fully and frankly. “Would you? I’d like that. Thanks for being so kind to me, Mrs Entwistle!”
Len looked at her pupil curiously. “Why shouldn’t I be?” she asked gently, remembering her conversation earlier in the study.
Grainne blushed and looked down. “People aren’t -always- kind,” she stated, rather confusedly, and Len’s eyes softened again.
“We always try to be, here. It’s very important to us- Staff and pupils. If there’s any one quality we want you girls to develop, it’s the ability to think of other people and to treat them always with kindess, even though they may not seem to deserve it. Now, the bell will be ringing shortly for the beginning of prep, and you should try to get some Kaffee und Kuchen first. You’d better go as I’m sure you don’t want to lose any time.”
Grainne nodded. “Yes, Mrs Entwistle. And thanks for what you said,” and with that she was gone, leaving Len staring after her with a perplexed expression on her face.
That evening, Dr. Reg Entwistle realised that his wife was more distracted than usual, and wondered.
“How was your day, my love?” he queried genially, as they sat together in the swing in their small rose garden, whilst baby Gina slumbered peacefully nearby.
Len placed her chestnut head on his shoulder and heaved a sigh. “On the whole, it was very fair. The girls behaved well, and Lower Iva actually managed to remember the contents of their last lesson, judging by the tests I marked today!”
Reg grinned. He knew all about Lower Iva, having heard his wife complain about them many times. “Is that the form your Cecil graces?” he asked.
Len threw him up a startled glance. “Well!” she said indignantly. “That shows how much you listen, doesn’t it? Cecil’s in my form!” and Reg began to laugh at her. After a moment, Len’s own indignation began to fade and she relaxed and giggled softly.
“What are you worrying about, then?” Reg asked bluntly.
Len sat up and stared at him. “How did you know I was worried?” she demanded. Her husband gave her a provoking grin.
“My dear Helena,” he drawled, “I’ve known you well for a good many years now. I should be ashamed of myself if I couldn’t work out how you were feeling! Some husband I’d be!”
Len, who hated her stately true name, glared at him, but then gave it up. She laughed a little ruefully. “You’re right,” she admitted, “I am worried. And if I’m right we’ll have a real can of worms at the school, and how we’ll deal with it is more than I can say!”
Reg gave her a startled look. “That sounds serious,” he said gravely. “Have you told Jo? Or is it something I can help with?”
“I don’t really want to worry Mother, especially now that she’s settled down so well to her latest book.” She paused for a moment, and then went on. “Reg, if someone was to come to you- professionally, I mean- and say that she’d been having inexplicable fits of tiredness, queasiness, periodic sickness alternating with occasional cravings for the oddest foods, what would your diagnosis be?” Her husband remained silent and looked at her carefully. Her grey eyes were very anxious, and Reg admitted to himself that now he could see why.
“Depending on the age of the person, and her circumstances, I’d consider pregnancy a very strong possibility,” he said at last, and Len whitened a little.
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” she replied, rather faintly. “I-I suppose I thought that I was just being silly and that you’d have a different explanation for it.”
“Do you suspect that one of the girls has gotten herself into trouble?” Reg asked, as delicately as he could. It did not altogether surprise him. They were into the 1960s by now, and although the remoteness of the school and san provided it’s own protection from the outside world, Reg acknowledged to himself that at least some of the girls could potentially move in less innocent circles during their holidays.
Len looked, if anything, a little puzzled. “Well, yes. I suppose so. But Reg, the strange thing is that it isn’t one of those sophisticated girls who have hectic social lives when they’re at home, and who are knowledgeable about such things, although I admit they do appear to have the sense not to air their knowledge at school! It would not be appreciated. The girl in question really is an absolute innocent- almost too innocent, if there can be such a thing in this day and age!”
“How old is she?”
“She’s in Upper Iva so I imagine she must be near Cecil’s age- fourteen or fifteen.”
“Are you sure that she has no idea herself?” Reg asked, a little sceptically, it must be confessed.
“Positive. She’s convent bred, and Auntie Hilda told me today that she’d discovered that her parents didn’t even have the kid home from school very often, so her opportunities for mixing really have been limited. As well as that, she’s one of those kids who are obsessive readers- we think because she’s been bullied in the past, and so she’s used books as an escape.”
“Poor kid!” Reg interjected sympathetically.
Len nodded. “I know. She’s had to come out of her shell more now, however. Life at the Chalet School doesn’t really give anyone the luxury of being able to avoid people, which is actually a good thing where this girl is concerned. She seems to have chummed up with the Crew.”
Reg grinned briefly. “Well, that crowd would certainly not allow anyone to go and mope in corners, that’s for sure! But if she’s so innocent, Len, how did she get the opportunity to- you know?” he finished, looking rather flustered.
Len’s eyes darkened again. She had thought of this for herself, and it worried her. “I wish I knew,” she responded. “At least, if she’d been responsible for a good deal of it herself, it’d be easier to deal with. More clearcut, somehow. As it is, I’ve a nasty feeling it will be anything but, and I don’t know what the school will do about it! I suppose the first thing to do will be to get your hypothetical diagnosis confirmed, and then we can decide what to do next.”
Reg gave her a curious glance. “Do you think Hilda will expel her?” he asked abruptly.
“I honestly don’t know. Depending on the circs, I don’t think she will, if at all possible. She doesn’t like taking such drastic action unless she really feels that the girl in question is completely unrepentant for her actions, or if she thinks that life at school would become too difficult for that girl. But I’m sure I don’t see how we could get round it.”
Reg rose and pulled his wife up. He tilted her chin so that her face looked up to his, and he smiled into her anxious eyes. “Well, there’s nothing more you can do about it now,” he said practically. “The first thing is for you to get hold of Hilda and Gwynneth Lloyd and tell them what you suspect. Then we’ll arrange an examination. When we know the results of that, we’ll be better placed to make further decisions. Agreed?”
Len heaved a relieved sigh. “Yes. Thanks, Reg! I feel much calmer now!”
“Glad to be of service,” quoth her husband. He then retrieved his daughter, who had slept throughout in blissful ignorance of her parents’ perturbation, and they all three vanished into the chalet for the night.
