Author’s Note: I toyed with the idea of writing a thoroughly contemporary boarding school story, set in the twenty-first century; but the schools I know about and love are the ones that existed at the time I was in school, between 1950 and 1962. I know of one writer who successfully created a series of boarding school stories set in the 1970s, Anne Digby and her Trebizon series. They are sufficiently similar to allow older readers to identify with them, sufficiently different to attract a new generation of readers. But that was thirty years ago. I’m not sure how appealing boarding school stories are now; I suspect they would only appeal to a small minority of youngsters, and probably only to girls. This story, therefore, harkens back to the “golden age” of school stories, which dominated the first half of the twentieth century. I suspect that the only people who read this will be regular readers of Gateway Monthly, curious to find out what all the fuss is about, and people who have a genuine and scholarly interest in school stories, like myself. But it had to be done. Even if the story sounds familiar, and the characters as well, I had to have a go. Maybe it was just a simple act of exorcism, to rid myself of all those memories; if that’s the case, well, something strange has happened in the process ~ I’ve rekindled my love for school stories all over again. I don’t write for a living, (more’s the pity, I say, thank Heavens, say you!) and because of that I can indulge myself to my heart’s content. I write for the love of writing, and I’ve had more pleasure out of writing “Fifth Term at the Crypt” than from anything else I’ve ever tackled. If any of you enjoys reading this offering, let me tell you that there will be further adventures of Mary Hamilton and of other pupils at the Island School. If you didn’t enjoy it ~ well, you have only yourselves to blame…..

The girls of Crypt School

Fifth Formers

Mary Hamilton

Ros Gillespie

Gloria Bancroft

Jennifer Marston-Smythe

Linda Barrett

Angela Ryan

Virginia Wilkinson

Sixth Formers

Wendy Dalston

Justine Chambers

The Staff

Miss Tibbs Headmistress

Victoria Eggleton English Literature, Hockey

Monsieur Casseau French

Mrs Lambert History

Miss Quigley Latin

Mr Beek Chemistry

Sarah Bennett Biology

Stephanie Miller Physics

James Punchard The Janitor

BOOK ONE

Chapter One

Mary Hamilton settles into her new form

Mary Hamilton was still fifteen when the new school term started that September. It would be another three months before she was sixteen, and although she was now officially a “senior” she didn’t feel like one at all. Occasionally her fellow students in Auden House ribbed her about it, but no one really minded her being the baby of the class. In any case, during the holidays, when she met up with her brother Tom and her cousin Barry, she could lord it over them as she was a year older than Tom and eighteen months older than Barry. Being youngest in class often had compensations, too, for the teachers were less likely to pick on her. Besides all of that, there was the added bonus that she was ahead of all the other girls her age, none of whom had made it to the upper fifth. She’d been moved up because of her outstanding exam results.

Skipping a whole year meant that she had to make friends with a whole new group of people, but Mary was an outgoing, popular type, and didn’t anticipate too many problems on that front. Besides, she would still see some of her former classmates at break times and mealtimes.

The Crypt School for Girls was a 19th century building covered in ivy and built in a square around a quadrangle, with four storeys, lots of turrets and towers housing numerous spiral staircases. There was also an extensive basement where cook and a team of assistants prepared meals for the three hundred girls and twenty-five staff. It was known to the pupils and the locals as the Island School, by virtue of the fact that the headland on which it was built, along with the tiny fishing village, was cut off from the East Coast mainland at high tide. Apart from the school building itself, there were a handful of cottages, a small village pub and local store which doubled as the Post Office, and a small church, originally a Methodist Chapel but now firmly Church of England. All of the girls who wished to could attend church services on Sunday mornings and Tuesday evenings. Many of the older girls skipped the midweek service but the vast majority of them went happily on Sundays.

Founded in 1503, the Crypt had moved to its present building in 1890, and although some wings were old and in disrepair, the rooms were generally bright and airy, with tall sash windows, some of which offered a decent view of the Suffolk coast. The school grounds were extensive, with splendid playing fields and woods for nature rambles and long walks. It was a super place in which to study, and few of the girls disagreed with that!

Climbing the broad staircase to the first floor dormitories, where the Upper Fifth stayed, she found herself following a group of girls she had seen a few minutes earlier climbing out of a large car. The same car had almost run her over as she walked the few hundred yards from the mainland beach to the Crypt, so named because of the ruined abbey in the grounds. Two of the girls were blonde, and carried only a small holdall each. The third was a slightly built girl with red hair and glasses. She carried a backpack. Every girl wore the same uniform, white blouse and grey skirt, with a navy and gold striped tie.

‘I think we’re in the room overlooking the abbey,’ one of them said. Mary smiled. That was her dorm, too. Dormitories at the Crypt slept four girls. They also shared a common room with girls from another three dorms. It was all quite cosy, or so she hoped.

‘I hope they’ve found a replacement for old Wilkins,’ the second blonde said, to which the red-haired girl replied, ‘yes, there’s a new housemistress. I overheard the Head talking to James. Victoria Eggleton, I think she said her name was.’

James was the janitor. He’d been there as long as Mary could remember. They turned right at the top of the stairs and soon found their dorm. Mary piled in behind the other three girls, and dumped her bags on the floor just inside the door.

‘You’re Mary Hamilton,’ the redhead said with a smile. ‘I’m Ros, short for Rosalind. Rosalind Gillespie. That’s Gloria Bancroft, and the tall one is Jennifer Marston-Smythe. I say, did you carry all that lot yourself? You should have got James to bring it up for you.’

‘It isn’t too bad,’ Mary said. ‘My trunk should already have arrived.’

Jennifer stood up and looked behind her. ‘I think I was sitting on it. Sorry.’

‘That’s all right. Nothing breakable.’

‘Well, welcome to the Upper Fifth, Mary. What’s it like being a swot?’ said Jennifer. ‘You can call me Jen if you like. My friends call me Jen. Actually I’m the Right Honourable Jennifer Marston-Smythe. My dad is a baronet or something.’

‘I’m not really a swot. It’s just that I’m....’ but the right honourable Jennifer Marston-Smythe was already losing interest in her new roommate. Something had caught her eye outside. She peered out of the window. ‘I don’t recognise her! Come and look – is that the new house mistress?’

The others joined her at the window and looked down. An immaculate lawn, James’ pride, they called it, ran a hundred yards or so to the abbey entrance. Mary longed to join them but there really wasn’t room. Instead she began unpacking her belongings, wishing she’d been able to see the new teacher too, but knowing better than to try and fit in with her roommates before they’d formally accepted her as one of them.

Formal introductions were hardly appropriate, so they more or less just talked about themselves for Mary’s benefit, as the three of them had been together right through school. It turned out that Ros came from a wealthy family who lived in the North of England. Her father was the Managing Director of a company that made components for the engineering industry. She had three brothers, all of whom were much younger than she was. Gloria Bancroft was the daughter of a film star, but of course Bancroft was not her real name, and no matter how many questions they asked, she simply would not tell them who it was. She swore blind that she looked like her father, when it was her mother who was the film star. They ribbed her about it constantly, and of course no one believed her, as she looked very much like a film star herself! Jennifer Marston-Smythe was the daughter of a peer of the realm who actually sat in the House of Lords. Without doubt she was one of the most sophisticated people Mary had ever met, and although she was certain the upper school had many more pupils who were the offspring of Lords and Ladies, there was an air about Jennifer that turned heads and set tongues wagging. Added to that was the fact that she was tall and slim, and very pretty, and you had someone quite special.

Ros was a little on the short side, and a little top heavy, but she was very athletic, and played tennis and hockey with enthusiasm and a flair that had seen her earn her colours for the school on three separate occasions. Gloria had the look of a film star about her. Her hair was golden, long, wavy and shiny. Some of the younger girls nicknamed her “Glorious” but she lived in a world of daydreams and certainly found nothing offensive in it. She was very good-natured and had a sparkling personality that was envied by some of the older girls. Mary herself was tall for her age, one of the reasons why the board of governors had no hesitation in moving her up a year. She was very pretty, with shoulder-length, wavy hair. Her father and her brother both said that she was the image of her mother when she had been fifteen, and if that was true, she was very happy about it – her mother had been and still was a stunning beauty. She had come from nobility, but had fallen in love with and run away with Mary’s father, James, something that rankled with her side of the family. She had lost her inheritance because of it, but regretted nothing, and James’s success in his job had more than made up for it. They were comfortably well-off, but that was not the reason why Mary had come to the Crypt in the first place. It was because James Hamilton was a special envoy for the government, and his work took him abroad for several months of the year. Rather than leave the children with governesses and nannies, they had decided to send them to the best boarding schools they could afford.

With all this out of the way, there was little time for anything else before the evening meal!

The conversation over dinner was sparkling and witty, as the three older girls chatted about boys they’d caught up with during the holidays. Of course, Mary felt a little left out, but occasionally Ros brought her into the conversation and by the time they’d got ready for bed after a long day travelling and settling in, she felt much more comfortable. Smiling happily, she wrote a quick note to her brother, Tom, who was in a boys’ school about thirty miles away, then started to read. The others, who had exhausted themselves with the rigours of catching up on each other’s social life, sank into noiseless sleep. When Mary finished the chapter she glanced at the little alarm clock on her bedside cabinet and was astonished to see that it was well past midnight. Minutes later the clock in the school hall chimed half-past, and at that precise moment she heard the scrape of a shoe on the cobbled courtyard outside.

Scrambling quietly out of bed, Mary crossed to the window and pulled the curtain to one side. It was a bright, clear night with a full moon. She glanced down at the courtyard and saw two figures, one of them an elegantly dressed man, the other a young woman wearing a skirt, a blouse and a cardigan.

The window was slightly ajar. There was no wind, and their conversation, though very soft, was almost audible.

‘Listen, Tory, I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have to help me!’

The young woman laid her hand on the man’s arm. ‘All right. There is probably a cellar or something in the ruins. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink in a little while. Just don’t let them see you!’ The last was said in a fierce whisper, then as the man went off towards the Abbey, she looked up, seemingly for no reason at all, and saw Mary standing at the window. She stood there for a moment, then she turned on her heels and walked quietly back into the school building. Mary stared, open-mouthed. What on Earth was going on? It was the first day of term and here she was, already embroiled in a mystery! Just wait till Tom heard about this!