11 alicia has a parcel

the days flew by. it was still very cold and gwendoline and mavis complained bitterly, as they huddled near the fire in the common-room, or sat almost on top of the radiators.

“you should rush about a bit more in gym or on the lacrosse field,” said darrell, whose face was a rosy-pink with good health and happiness. she had gone out to the field every moment she could spare to have coaching from molly. she was getting very good! she knew she was. molly praised her catching and said it was excellent.

gwendoline looked at darrell with her usual scowl. she really felt miserable in the cold weather, for she came from an overheated home and could not get used to the fresh-air atmosphere of school. it annoyed her to see darrell without a single chilblain, and to watch her race out happily into the frosty air for her lacrosse practice.

belinda came slipping up behind gwendoline, who was quite unaware that she was scowling. belinda’s quick pencil set to work. mavis nudged gwen.

“look out! here’s belinda again!”

gwen turned round quickly, trying to smooth the scowl off her face—but it was difficult to feel angry and yet not scowl!

“go away, belinda! i don’t want you to draw me!” she said, peevishly. “i wish you’d leave me alone. i hate the way you come slinking up—i call it really sly.”

“oh no!” said belinda. “i’m just interested in you, that’s all. you have such a lovely scowl—the ugliest in the whole school, i should think. do, do scowl again, gwen, and let me draw it.”

gwen stopped herself from scowling, but it was a very great effort. belinda grinned.

“poor gwendoline mary—so annoyed, that it makes her want to scowl more fiercely than ever—but she won’t! well, never mind—i’ll watch for the next time.”

she went away, and everyone laughed. gwen’s eyes filled with easy tears. she could always cry at any moment. how hateful belinda was. gwen thought she really must go and scowl at herself in the mirror, then she would see what was so unique about it. it probably was no worse a scowl than mavis’s or bill’s—but that horrid belinda thought it was a fine way to tease her.

darrell came in after her lacrosse practice, glowing and beaming. “i say, girls! what do you think? i may be a reserve for the third match-team! only the third reserve—but it’s something!”

“what’s a reserve?” asked zerelda, thinking it must be something marvellous, judging by darrell’s shining eyes.

“well—if three girls fall out from the next match-team, i’d take the place of the third one,” explained darrell.

“third reserves never play,” remarked alicia. “everybody knows that. so don’t hope too much, darrell.”

“i’m not,” said darrell. “alicia, i do wish you would get a bit of coaching too. molly’s fine—takes no end of trouble.”

“that fat, clumsy molly!” murmured zerelda, in her lazy drawl. “gee—i just can’t bear to look at her!”

it was silly of zerelda to say things like that. it made darrell and jean and the rest of the keen lacrosse players annoyed. what did it matter what molly looked like? she was a splendid games captain, and had won more matches than had been won for years by malory towers.

“she may be fat, but she’s not clumsy—she’s a fast runner and very powerful,” said darrell, stoutly.

“i’ll say she is!” said zerelda. “i met her running down the stairs the other day, and i thought there was an earthquake coming. but it was only her great feet pounding on the stairs. you can keep your mollies! i don’t want them. all brawn and no brains or charm!”

“and you, i suppose, are all charm, and no brains?” said alicia’s smooth, malicious voice. “how nice! well, america can keep her zereldas. they’re not much good here!”

zerelda flushed scarlet and bit her lip. the others held their breath, expecting an outburst. but it didn’t come.

“i guess i asked for that,” said zerelda, stiffly, and she got up. she said no more, but went out of the room as gracefully as ever.

nobody said anything. they felt uncomfortable. it wasn’t right to taunt a girl when they had all decided to be nice to her—but on the other hand zerelda was really very annoying and deserved to be ticked off.

“where’s bill?” asked darrell, to change the subject.

“where do you suppose?” said belinda. “giving thunder titbits in the stable.”

“well, i wish she wouldn’t,” said jean. “it’s absolutely flat disobedience, and she’ll get into a terrific row if she’s found out. i’ve argued with her and rowed her and told her to obey miss peters in case something worse happens—but she simply won’t listen. i might as well talk to a stone wall.”

“she says thunder isn’t well,” said mary-lou.

“imagination!” scoffed alicia. “she just says that so that she can go and see him without too guilty a conscience.”

“no. i am sure she really does think thunder isn’t well,” said mary-lou, in her gentle voice. “she’s very worried about him.”

“well, why doesn’t she ask miss peters to get the vet. to him?” said irene.

“because if she does miss peters will want to know how she knows he’s not well,” explained mary-lou. “and then the fat will be in the fire!”

“and there will be a sizzling noise and miss peters will go up in smoke!” said belinda, taking out her pencil to draw miss peters going up in smoke.

somebody put their head in at the common-room door. “hey there! parcel post is in—and there’s a parcel for you, alicia.”

“thanks,” said alicia, and got up to go and get it. “hope it’s some chocolates from my godmother. she usually sends me a box each term.”

she disappeared. belinda finished her drawing and handed it round. everyone yelled with laughter. miss peters was floating upwards, enveloped in smoke, and lightning was flashing from the smoke.

“lovely!” said darrell. “i wish i could draw like you. i can’t do anything like that! you’re lucky, belinda.”

“yes, i am,” said belinda, taking back her drawing, and adding a few more strokes. “don’t know what i should do if i couldn’t draw. i’d be miserable! well, so would irene be miserable if she couldn’t have her music!”

“and i should be very very miserable without my voice,” said mavis at once.

“yes. you’d be ten times more miserable than either irene or belinda,” said jean. “and i’ll tell you why. because you just wouldn’t be anything without your voice, mavis! after all, irene is good at maths, and she plays quite a good game of lacrosse, and she’s always ready to have a bit of fun—like belinda, who’s pretty fair at everything besides being gifted at drawing. but you’re nothing but a voice! take that away and i don’t believe anyone would know you were here!”

“i can’t help having a voice that overpowers the rest of me,” said mavis, complacently. “it’s not my fault if i seem all voice to you. when i’m an opera-singer i shall . . .”

this was the signal for everyone to begin talking at the top of their voices. it didn’t matter what they said, they just talked to drown mavis’s familiar parrot-cry. as they talked they laughed to see her annoyed face, its small dark eyes gleaming spitefully.

well—she didn’t care! wait till she was a bit older—then she would show the others what a gift like hers meant. she would sweep the whole world to rapture over her unique voice. her family and her singing teachers marvelled at her voice, and were never tired of predicting a wonderful career. she could wait for that, even if it meant putting up with commonplace people like the third-formers!

alicia came in with her parcel. “it’s not from my godmother,” she said, “so don’t crowd round me too hopefully. it’s from sam.”

sam was one of her brothers, a scamp if ever there was one. the third-formers were never tired of hearing of his escapades.

“is it some sort of joke to play, do you think?” asked darrell, eagerly. “alicia, you haven’t played a trick for ages. i do hope it’s a good one!”

alicia opened the parcel. out fell a small box. belinda picked it up and looked at it. something was written on the lid.

“sneeze, boys, sneeze!”

“whatever does it mean?” said darrell, thrilled. “let’s open the box.”

“well, look out then,” said alicia, shaking out a letter from her brother. “don’t spill the contents. they may be valuable!”

darrell opened the box. it was full of little white pellets, round and flat, about half an inch in diameter. “whatever are they?” said darrell. “and why the funny label on the box—‘sneeze, boys, sneeze!’?”

alicia was reading sam’s letter and chuckling. “listen to this,” she said. “sam really is a scamp. these pellets have been made by one of the boys in his form—he’s a bit of an inventor in his way. what you do is to put a pellet on a shelf, damp it with a solution of salt water, and then leave it. in half an hour it sends off a kind of vapour that gets up people’s noses and makes them sneeze terrifically!”

everyone laughed. “sam says he did it to his drawing master,” said alicia, chuckling again. “and he sneezed forty-three times. the boys counted. what a joke!”

“let’s play it on miss peters!” said darrell, thrilled. “oh, do let’s!”

the idea of hearing the hearty miss peters sneezing forty-three times was very tempting. alicia read sam’s letter to the end. “he says on no account must we use more than one pellet at a time, because the effects are very bad if too much vapour gets up anyone’s nose. and he says the pellet-vapour only floats out about four feet—so if we do play the trick on miss peters, she will start sneezing her head off—but we shan’t sneeze at all!”

“it sounds an absolutely super trick,” said darrell. “really super! alicia, we must play it. i should die of laughing to see miss peters sneezing like that. she has such a very terrifically loud sneeze—almost louder than anyone else’s in the school.”

“well—we mustn’t begin to giggle too soon or giggle too much in case miss peters smells a rat,” said alicia. “though i don’t see how she can. after all, she will be the only one who sneezes.”

everyone felt really thrilled. a trick on miss peters! very few third-formers had ever dared to play jokes on her, for she was sharp, and so swift with punishment that usually nobody dared to annoy her too much. but this trick was surely foolproof!

“when can we play it? tomorrow?” asked darrell.

“no. wait till we’ve got a test in maths or something,” said alicia. “then, if miss peters sneezes too much we shan’t have the test!”