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AS Rosita remarked later, the Sale was a ‘howling success.’ The School raised more than enough money for both of their charitable concerns, and, as Cecil said gloatingly, they would still have a good fifty pounds left over for their own ends. Prizes had been won by the deserving, and Con Richardson had occasioned gales of laughter by winning Tom Gay’s offering yet again. Miss Wilson had won Joey’s books, and promptly declared her intention of handing them over to the Sarah Denny Museum, much to the annoyance of Mrs Maynard, who protested that she refused to be any kind of a museum exhibit at this early date. ‘Bill’ ignored her, however, and the books were subsequently presented and displayed.

The Sale over, the School flung itself into a frenzy of packing and tidying up. Various girls trooped in and out of Matey’s room, begging permission to leave such and such a thing behind, as it was an ‘awful pain’ ‘lugging’ it home again. Matey had given Christine Willoughby- one of the supplicators- an awful glare, refused to consider it, and sent the disgruntled girl off with a reminder that it wasn’t too late to add a few more fines to the box.

Members of Via trailed around looking miserable, as Felicity did not fail to point out. This was their last term at School, and when the coaches left on Wednesday morning, they would have left too as pupils. Via considered that Felicity, who was to have an additional year, was very heartless and told her so, before departing en masse to find somewhere where they could be miserable in peace, as Jean Morris said mournfully.

Wednesday morning came at last, and Fruhstuck was earlier than usual to allow the coaches to depart on time. Those girls travelling back to the UK had a long trip ahead of them, and the authorities preferred that most of it should be done in daylight, if at all possible. All possessions apart from the contents of night cases had been sent on ahead, and the only dormitory work that needed to be done this morning was stripping the beds ready for the maids, so everyone was down in the entrance hall waiting for the coaches on time.

Cecil, Marjorie and Grainne joined them, even though all three would be staying on the Platz. Cecil and Marjorie always enjoyed the opportunity to say last minute goodbyes, and Grainne had gone because they did. Now Cecil closed the big front door as the coaches rumbled down the drive, and shivered.

“Brr. Spooky, isn’t it? It’s so quiet!”

“Not while you lot are anywhere around,” Matey assured them as she bustled up to them. Cecil only grinned at her. Matey in the holidays was someone to be taken considerably less seriously, and Matron, knowing what she was thinking, laughed at her and departed, with a reminder to them all to go and collect their own cases from Daffodil, so that the maids could get to work.

Obediently, they did as they were told, and returned down the stairs- the front stairs!- to the entrance hall. Len was standing at the foot of the stairs, and she grinned at the three as they descended.

“Who gave you lot permission to do that, I’d like to know?” she demanded.

Cecil jumped down the last three steps in one go, and threw her arms around her sister. “I did! It’s hols now, Len, so don’t scold!”

Len laughed. “True for you. Marjorie, you’re coming with me. Cecil, scoot on home and unpack there. Grainne, the Head says you’re to go to her private salon now. You’re going ‘round to Freudesheim this afternoon, so mind you do as she tells you now. You don’t want to miss any treats Mamma may have planned!”

After swopping farewells with the other three, Grainne turned- rather reluctantly- and went towards the Annexe. Once there, she went swiftly to the room that the Head had told her would be ‘hers’ from now on, and dumped her own bag. Then, checking that she looked presentable, she made her way to the Salon, where she found Miss Annersley enjoying a cup of tea and doing some fine crochet work. The Head put her work down and smiled at the girl as she entered.

“Grainne! Cecil and Co get off, then?”

Grainne gave her a shy smile. “Yes. And Len says I’m going to Freudesheim later?”

The Head nodded. “Yes. I’ve got to go down to Interlaken with Miss Dene to place some orders for next term, and I didn’t think you’d like to come with me. Cecil will find you something to do, even if Mrs Maynard doesn’t!” She finished with a laugh, and Grainne grinned.

Before the Irish girl could speak again, the salon door opened again, and Grainne turned, expecting to see Rosalie Dene. Instead she froze.

Miss Annersley gave her a quick look. “Hilda! Come along in, my dear. Now, I’ve just been telling Grainne that you’re both to go over to Freudesheim later on today as I need to go down to Interlaken this afternoon. So suppose you both sit down and have some tea with me now, and then you may run along and change into some holiday clothes. No need to wear uniform, even if you are still in school!” and she laughed again as she poured out tea for each of them.

Hilda, meanwhile, was fuming. Her own parents had had to go away on business at very short notice, and her father had contacted the Head to ask if she could look after her young cousin for a few days until they were home again.

Miss Annersley, not knowing of the strain that had existed between her namesake and the Irish girl, had agreed easily. But now, as she looked from girl to girl, she groaned inwardly. It had been a difficult term and she was exhausted. She had no desire to spend her precious holiday time straightening out this complication.

There was a tense silence. Grainne looked down and refused to meet anyone’s eyes. Hilda’s blue-grey eyes- so like the Head’s- glittered dangerously. The Head, looking at them again, made a decision. She set down her teapot and rose, and both girls rose with her.

“Girls, I don’t know what’s happened between you. Frankly, I’m not sure I want to. I’m going to go over to St Mildred’s to talk to Miss Wilson for a time. When I get back, I hope you’ll be on speaking terms. We need to live together for the next fortnight or so until your parents return home, Hilda, and I don’t want to live in a strained atmosphere. That’s all I’m going to say, girls. Please act with the maturity I know you’re both capable of.” With that, she nodded to them and left the room, leaving two red faced girls behind her. Grainne had never heard the Head speak in that tone before, and Hilda, as her cousin, had carefully avoided trouble with her until now, and so had never expected to hear that voice.

They eyed each other resentfully in silence. Both girls heard the door shut as Miss Annersley left the building.

After a time, Grainne made the first move. “What’s wrong, Hilda?” she asked softly.

Hilda turned a furious face to her. “This is all your fault! Why do you have to be here? I thought it was just going to be me and Auntie Hilda. And I didn’t even get the nice room,” she finished crossly. She had been put into the small room that Miss Wilson used from time to time, and while certainly more than adequate, it was not as daintily furnished as the lavender room that Grainne was using.

Grainne looked at the other girl with startled eyes. “But- don’t you know why?”

“No. I don’t even know why you’re still here, after what you’ve done. You should have been sent away!”

Grainne looked at the smoothly polished floor and bit her lip. She had not expected this. “The School didn’t really have any choice,” she said quietly, and Hilda glanced at her.

“What do you mean?” she began uncertainly. “Why couldn’t you just go home? That’s what would happen in most schools.”

Grainne met her eyes honestly. “I know. It would have happened like that at my last school. But they couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Hilda asked, curiosity winning over dislike.

Grainne shuffled her feet over the floor. “My mum doesn’t want anything more to do with me. My dad’s always busy. It’s partly my aunt’s fault that this has happened. Where else would I go?”

Hilda looked at her in shock. Her own parents loved her dearly, and she them, and she was certain that had she been in Grainne’s position, they would take her back. They’d be angry, undoubtedly, but there’d be no question of throwing her out. “How did it happen?” she asked softly, and Grainne realised that, almost for the first time that term, Hilda was speaking to her in a voice free of hostility. As quickly and as simply as she could, she told Hilda what she had told Cecil some time before- with the added benefit of her own additional understanding.

Hilda listened thoughtfully. “I see,” she said eventually when the other girl had finished. “Now I understand why Auntie Hilda didn’t sack you. But why didn’t she tell us all this?”

Grainne looked shrewdly at the other girl. “Maybe she thought she wouldn’t need to,” she said quietly. The shot went home and Hilda blushed furiously.

“Grainne, I’m really sorry. I’ve been an idiot. If I hadn’t been so miffed with Cecil and her Crew, and the fact that you were part of them. I’d probably have realised some of this for myself. After all, I’m one of the oldest in the form.”

“Why were you miffed with Cecil?” Grainne asked in surprise.

Hilda looked silly. “It-it sounds daft now,” she muttered, “but I thought it wasn’t fair that Cecil’s so popular and all, and I didn’t think it was fair that I was only put in Upper Iva when I should have been in Inter V at least, and I thought that was rotten seeing as the Head’s my cousin.”

“But that’s not Cecil’s fault!” Grainne protested. “And Marjorie’s as old as you, and she didn’t go up, and her mum’s an Old Girl and Old Mistress!”

“I know,” Hilda mumbled. “I think I’ve been too swollen headed. You see, in my last school I didn’t get on with anyone. I was like the lowest of the low. And then my dad said they’d decided to send me here to Auntie Hilda’s school, and – I guess it went to my head a bit.”

“But Miss Annersley doesn’t own the school,” Grainne protested, thoroughly perplexed. “She’s Head, but Cecil’s Auntie Madge is the most important person.”

Hilda managed a rueful grin. “I know that now! But I didn’t know it then. You see, all my dad knew about the school came from mostly my Auntie Nell. We hadn’t seen Auntie Hilda since my Uncle Edgar died, so my dad prob’ly forgot all he knew. So he just called it ‘Auntie Hilda’s school’ and left it at that.”

“And you thought that ‘cos you’re related to the Head, people’d like you, only it didn’t work out that way,” Grainne mused. “And then when everything happened with me, you thought it wasn’t fair that people were willing to put up with me and let me stay and –and everything.”

“Yes,” Hilda agreed. “And you’d made friends quickly and I-I,” Hilda stuttered to a stop.

“You’ve learned that it doesn’t matter who you are, or who you’re related to,” came the Head’s voice from the doorway. She had returned with Miss Wilson some moments earlier, and they had been standing listening.

The girls turned to look at her guiltily as she entered, and she smiled at them. “Hilda, you’re finally starting to realise that you need to be liked for yourself, and that you can’t pretend or rely on your relationships with others indefinitely. Those things will take you only so far, and when it comes to it, they tend to fall away.

“Grainne, you’ve learned- painfully- that while some people cannot be trusted, others can. You’ve also found- to your surprise, I think- that because, in spite of everything, you’ve been honestly yourself with the others, they have responded and you have made some very good friends here. I hope you’ll keep them always.” Miss Annersley smiled at them, and her partner took up the tale.

“It strikes me that the two of you have both experienced loneliness,” commented Miss Wilson. “While I know that’s not so much of a problem for you now, Grainne, I think it has still been so for Hilda here. The two of you could be very good for each other. If Miss Annersley and I send you off to Karen to get some coffee and cakes for us, will you promise us that you’ll do some more talking there and back- and return in one piece?” The younger of the two Heads grinned at them, and the girls returned it slowly, before they both nodded.

‘Bill’ laughed at them. “So what are you waiting for? Miss Annersley and I are parched. Off you go!” and, as usual, she was obeyed on the word.

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