11 on the tennis court and in the pool

the news about the special coaching soon flew round the school. the games mistress looked a little doubtful when she heard it. too much special attention devoted to any one lower-former was not really good.

on the other hand, june could be brilliant at games if she was interested enough. perhaps this offer of amanda’s would really jerk her into working hard at tennis and swimming. if she only worked hard at something it would be a help to her character!

“she’s a maddening child,” miss parker, the second-form mistress, remarked to mam’zelle. “all that ability of hers for practically everything—and she’s just not interested enough to take the trouble to shine. except at making the others laugh.”

“yes—she is too good at that,” agreed mam’zelle, who had suffered from this ability of june’s far too often.

“she’s superlative at playing the donkey,” said miss potts, who had had june in the first term. “she’s about the only child i’ve ever had in my form that i really would have liked to turn over on my knee and spank—spank really hard!”

they laughed. “well, if amanda can make her keep her nose to the grindstone, it will be very interesting,” said miss parker. “we’ll see!”

amanda drew up a most intensive time-table for june. june gasped when she saw it. a time was set aside every single day for coaching in swimming and in tennis. june wondered whether she should protest or not. no—if amanda was as much in earnest as all that, all right. june would keep her part of the bargain too.

the coaching began. an interested crowd of first- and second-formers came to watch. amanda was astonished to see the crowd, and june didn’t like it at all. she didn’t want to be laughed at, or barracked all the time.

“what’s all this?” said amanda, waving her hand towards the onlookers sitting round the court on the grass.

“they’ve come to watch us,” said june. “they would, of course.”

amanda addressed the crowd at once.

“if you’ve come to pick up hints, all right. if not, clear off. anyone who interrupts the coaching, or disturbs it in any way, can think again. i’ve got my punishment book with me as usual.”

this was greeted by a dead silence, and then, as amanda turned away, a low and discreet murmur arose. amanda was decidedly not popular. she was even less popular than the domineering moira. a few of the girls got up and went away. they had only come to call out funny things to june. now that it meant their names going down in the punishment book, there didn’t seem much point in staying. june wished fervently that everyone would go. to her great annoyance and surprise she found that she was nervous!

amanda began with playing pat-ball, keeping a sharp eye on june’s returns and placing. she noted that june used her head as well as her hands. she watched the way she swung her racket right back, and kept her eye on the ball. she took in every single detail. there really wasn’t much that amanda didn’t know about tennis! she had already played in schoolgirl championships, and she was a born teacher as well as a born player.

“i say—how long’s this going on for?” complained june at last. “this pat-ball, i mean.”

there was a ripple of laughter from the onlookers. they sat up, hoping that june would begin to be funny.

amanda didn’t answer. she sent another ball over to june. june pretended to miss it, almost fell over, and, by a seemingly miraculous recovery, hit the ball from behind her back, and stood up again. this was the kind of clowning she did superlatively well.

there was a wave of laughter from the watchers. “go it, june!” called harriet.

amanda caught the ball in her hand and swung round to the lower-formers. “one more shout and off you’ll all go,” she announced. “i can tell you straight away now that there is nothing whatever i can teach june in the way of playing the fool—she knows all the tricks there are—but she doesn’t know much about playing real tennis, i’m afraid. do you see how badly she plays a backhand ball? she goes like this—instead of like this! and did you notice her feet when she played those balls off the right-hand side? all wrong!”

june stood still, fuming. why point out her faults to the audience? but she knew why, of course. it was amanda’s return for that bit of clowning. every time she clowned, and a laugh came, amanda would stop and point out other faults of june’s!

the next time a ball went near where the spectators were, june spoke to them in a low voice.

“i wish you’d clear off. it’s jolly difficult trying to concentrate with you all looking.”

but they didn’t clear off, especially when amanda stopped the pat-ball play and began to explain to june, in her loud, dominating voice, the few hundred things she did wrong. it was wonderful to see the don’t-care june having to stand there like someone from the kindergarten and listen to all her tennis failings! the lower forms really enjoyed it.

june didn’t enjoy it at all. if she had been a weaker character she would have made up her mind to call the whole thing off, and refuse to be coached again. but june was not weak—and besides, she couldn’t help realizing that amanda really did know what she was talking about. and amanda also knew how to be patient and how to explain a thing simply and clearly.

june found herself looking at amanda with unwilling admiration as she illustrated by various swings of her racket and placing of her feet exactly what she meant.

“i’ve learnt more in this one coaching than i’ve learnt in a whole term,” thought june. but she didn’t tell amanda that. she wasn’t going to hand the loud-voiced amanda any bouquets!

amanda didn’t hand june any bouquets either. she merely said, “that’s enough for today. you’ve plenty of things to think about, as you can see. get some of them right for next time. and be down at the swimming-pool to the minute tomorrow morning. i’ve only ten minutes to give you, and i don’t want a second wasted.”

june was down to the minute. amanda was there exactly on time too. she put june through a very gruelling ten minutes, and found as many faults with her swimming as she had done with her tennis. darrell, moira and mary-lou happened to be there too, and they watched in silence.

“if june can stick it, this is going to do her a world of good,” said darrell. “my word—what a driver amanda is—she never lets up for a moment.”

“june can stick it all right. the question is—will she?” said mary-lou. “i have a feeling she’ll get very tired of all this soon—not the coaching, but the way it’s done. so ruthless somehow.”

three or four second-formers came down to bathe, among them josephine, fat and pasty-looking, airing her opinions as usual. they weren’t worth anything of course. they never were. but, like her father, she loved hearing the sound of her voice, and if she could boast about anything, she did.

she had plenty to boast about. “my father has a whole fleet of cars! my mother has a diamond necklace she never wears because it’s too valuable. we’ve a dog at home worth five hundred pounds. my aunt’s sending me five pounds for my birthday. my brother’s got . . .”

these were the items of family news that jo continually talked of. there was no doubt at all that they were true. she was talking loudly now as she took off her wrap.

“miss parker is an old nosey! i meant to get out of bathing this morning, and of course she must come and poke her nose in and send me out. i told her what i thought of her. i said . . .”

“shut up,” said amanda, who was shouting instructions to june in the water. “shut up, and get into the water. i’m coaching someone.”

jo gave a giggle. she hadn’t at first recognized amanda in her bathing-suit. “oh, it’s amanda. oh, do let’s watch this. it’ll be as good as the tennis.”

she happened to get in amanda’s way, and impatiently amanda gave her a push. into the water went jo with an agonized squeal. the others yelled with laughter.

but jo had gone into a deep part, and she couldn’t swim. she came up, gasping and terrified, trying to feel the bottom with her feet. but there was no bottom to feel. she went under again.

“look—quick—jo’s in the deep water!” yelled darrell. “she can’t swim.”

june swam up to the struggling jo, and began to life-save her. but jo was now completely out of control, and so terrified that she clutched hold of june and dragged her under too. she was fat and heavy, and june could do nothing with her.

amanda dived neatly in

there was a splash as amanda dived neatly in. in a trice she was by jo and gripped her. “let go, june!” she ordered. “i’ll manage her!”

jo clutched blindly at amanda, who saw there was only one thing to be done. she must bring jo back to her senses immediately—and she could only do that by giving her a sharp shock. otherwise it would take ages to get the terrified girl to the edge of the pool.

she raised her hand and slapped jo very sharply on the right cheek. the slap echoed round the pool. jo gasped and came to her senses at once, very angry indeed.

“that’s right. now you listen to me,” ordered amanda, sharply. “don’t clutch. i’ve got you all right. lie still and i’ll take you to the edge.”

it was only a few seconds before amanda had got jo to the edge, and moira and darrell and mary-lou were hauling her up.

jo collapsed. she wailed. she howled. “i nearly drowned. you hit me! i’ll write to my father and tell him you pushed me in, you big bully!” she wailed. “i feel awful. i nearly drowned. oh, my cheek does hurt where you slapped me!”

“don’t be silly,” said moira. “you didn’t nearly drown. you just lost control of yourself. you didn’t even try to swim though you’ve been having lessons!”

“amanda got you in all right,” said mary-lou, gently, seeing that jo had been really frightened. “she didn’t know you couldn’t swim or she wouldn’t have pushed you in.”

“she’s a bully,” wept jo. “i’ll tell my father.”

“tell him,” said amanda. “the only thing that’s wrong with you is that you’re a little coward. i’ll give you special coaching too, if you like—i’ll have you swimming like a fish in a couple of lessons!”

that was the last thing jo wanted. she dressed and, still weeping and uttering threats, went back to the school. the others laughed.

“poor jo! she doesn’t fit in at malory towers,” said mary-lou. “what a little idiot she is!”