Tennis Term at Trebizon (The Trebizon Boarding School Series) Read online

  Tennis Term at Trebizon

  First published by Granada Publishing Ltd 1981

  This edition published 2016

  by Egmont UK Limited

  The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

  Text copyright © 1981 Anne Digby

  Illustrations copyright © 2016 Lucy Truman

  The right of Anne Digby to be identified as the author of the work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First e-book edition 2016

  ISBN 978 1 4052 8068 6

  Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1771 7

  www.egmont.co.uk

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

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  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Front series promotional page

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1 An Eye-Opening Dress

  2 Rebecca in Suspense

  3 The Cedar Tree

  4 A Perfect Term

  5 Roll Call in the Middle of the Night

  6 The Missing Number

  7 Fire!

  8 . . . And Tish Gets a Grilling

  9 A Walk on the Beach with Robbie

  10 A Bad Day for Pippa

  11 The Taxi Driver Remembers

  12 A Horrible Suspicion!

  13 Unravelling the Mystery

  14 Commemoration

  Back series promotional page

  1 End of Term

  For Melanie

  ONE

  An Eye-Opening Dress

  In Rebecca Mason’s sixth term at Trebizon, two amazing hoaxes were played at school. The first one was played on Miss Welbeck and the second, on the whole school. Rebecca and her friends, Tish Anderson, Sue Murdoch and the rest of their Action Committee, were getting used to solving mysteries – but this one was really odd. It took a long time to find the answer.

  It was quite a term, though, not just because of the hoaxes. Other things about that summer term lingered on in Rebecca’s mind even longer.

  There was Robbie . . . and the tennis . . . and the painting . . . and the fact that it was Pippa’s last term. Perhaps that most of all.

  Afterwards, whenever Rebecca looked at the painting, it brought it all back to her – the tennis term – the hot red dust of the courts with the sun beating down on them and afterwards the cool, dark, spreading shade of the big cedar tree. She would see them, again, through Pippa’s eyes.

  ‘I love this tree,’ the older girl told Rebecca, on the first day back. ‘In fact I love Trebizon. I’ve been so happy here, I want my last term to be the best ever! And I want this –’ she touched the canvas with the end of her paintbrush ‘– to be the best ever, too.’

  ‘What will you do with it when it’s finished?’ asked Rebecca shyly.

  Rebecca had unpacked and eaten tea and changed into her blue tracksuit. Now, tennis racket in hand, she was on her way to south courts. But she could see that nobody had arrived there yet and so she’d stopped to talk to Pippa, while keeping an eye on the tennis courts.

  Pippa Fellowes-Walker was never too busy to talk to her, even though she was in the Upper Sixth and a prefect. She was also in Trebizon’s first tennis team, editor of the school’s superb magazine, The Trebizon Journal, and a gifted artist as well.

  She’d set up her easel within sight of the school’s ancient cedar tree. The tree was a most beautiful thing, and she had lightly worked it in on the canvas with, beyond, a glimpse of the main school building, an eighteenth-century manor house of mellow stone that always seemed to reflect a soft, warm light.

  It looked like the beginnings of a lovely picture.

  ‘If it works,’ said Pippa, ‘it’s going to be the cover of my last Journal. I like the composition, but it lacks something at the moment.’

  Rebecca watched her working, in silence. She felt a sudden desire to try and write something for The Journal this term! Something really good, though she didn’t know what. She also decided that she wanted Pippa’s wish to come true, too – a marvellous last term at Trebizon, with nothing to spoil it. Yes, she wanted that very much for Pippa – who wouldn’t?

  She carried on watching, from time to time squinting towards the tennis courts, which were still deserted.

  ‘Who are you playing with?’ asked Pippa. ‘You’re going to miss Josselyn. So’s the team.’

  ‘I know,’ sighed Rebecca. Why did Joss Vining, who was in Rebecca’s form and the best player in the Middle School, if not the whole of Trebizon, have to go off to California for a year? Rebecca needed strong competition now – and how many team members would have the time to play with her regularly the way Joss did? It was maddening.

  ‘I’ll play with you when I can,’ said Pippa. ‘But with A Levels this term it’s going to take me all my time to manage team practices and matches. You know what, Rebecca,’ she added lightly, ‘you’ll just have to get into the team yourself!’

  Rebecca’s heart seemed to jump a bit.

  ‘Who are you going to play with now?’

  ‘Robbie Anderson – you know, Tish’s brother. I saw him on the train and he said he’d try and get away from Garth after tea.’ Rebecca gazed towards the courts again, anxiously. ‘Doesn’t look as though he can make it.’

  ‘Pity,’ said Pippa. ‘He’s good. How did you get on in the holidays? With the sponsorship? Were the people you stayed with nice?’

  ‘Very!’ nodded Rebecca. Her parents were in Saudi Arabia and a Greek family had looked after her in London while she took part in some junior tennis competitions. It had been fun. ‘Very nice. And do you know what? Yesterday, they took me to that big store in Knightsbridge and let me choose a new party dress to bring back to school! It’s a model, I think. They bought it for me!’

  ‘I hope you get some parties then!’ laughed Pippa. ‘If you don’t there’s always Commem. I’ll be over at Court later – the Barringtons are going out – you can show it to me.’

  Pippa loved clothes.

  She looked across to the empty courts and suddenly put her brush down.

  ‘Look, what’s happening about this tennis? Would you like me to give you a game?’

  ‘No, honestly, Pippa –’ began Rebecca.

  She spun round as she heard a bicycle bell behind her. Robbie was riding over the grass! His tennis racket was clipped to his bike.

  ‘Hallo! I’ve been over to the boarding house looking for you!’

  ‘Oh – I thought we said the courts –’ laughed Rebecca in relief.

  ‘And I thought you meant Court!’ said Robbie. ‘Very confusing. Come on, then!’

  Pippa smiled and picked up her brush again.

  It was good practice playing with Robbie. He played a very strong game.

  But afterwards it was rather like talking to Pippa all over again.

  ‘I’ll try and get over when I can, Rebeck.’ He ran a hand through his hair, which was black and curly like his sister’s. ‘I did enjoy it. The
trouble is I’ve got GCSEs this term and I’m in the Garth team, which means an hour’s practice every day. You know, they ought to put you in the Trebizon team! If you’re in, you’re playing against good people all the time and everything’s organised for you. If you’re not, well you just have to fix up things for yourself as best you can and the strong players are always booked up because they’re in the team. So that as they get better, you get worse. It’s a vicious circle. Not fair, really.’

  ‘Joss always found time to play with me,’ said Rebecca in a small voice. ‘I suppose being in the same form it was easy to fix it up quickly when we felt like it.’

  ‘And it was winter and there were no team practices and Joss is a fanatic!’ laughed Robbie.

  Then, seeing Rebecca’s woebegone face, he became serious.

  ‘It’s obvious. You’ve got to get yourself into the team!’

  ‘How?’ asked Rebecca. ‘I just haven’t got the experience. I know I’ve had county coaching and everything –’

  ‘And you should have had it years ago. But you’re a natural, Rebecca! Surely they can see that? Maybe you can get into the team. Three strong players left last year and Joss Vining’s on this American thing –’

  It was an electrifying thought.

  ‘Please help me, Robbie,’ Rebecca begged. ‘I want to get into the team!’

  He grinned at her.

  ‘I’m free on Sunday,’ he said. ‘Let’s make an afternoon of it. Let’s work on your serve. When it comes to girls’ tennis, a big serve always gives you an edge.’

  ‘Thanks, Robbie!’

  He cycled away and Rebecca walked slowly back to Court House, loitering and watching the sun go down over by Trebizon Bay, and daydreaming about the possibilities.

  ‘Try it on!’ shrieked Tish.

  ‘Come on, Rebecca, don’t keep us in suspense!’ said Sue.

  Rebecca had got back to the boarding house to find that her two room-mates had found her new party outfit hanging in the clothes cupboard and pounced on it. Tish was holding it up –

  ‘Come on!’

  ‘I’m all hot and sticky after playing tennis with your brother,’ protested Rebecca, laughing. ‘He just about ran me into the ground!’

  Tish bundled the dress into Rebecca’s arms and started to push her out of the room. ‘Go and have a shower then.’

  ‘All right,’ giggled Rebecca, quite excited now as she put the soft blue material against her cheek. ‘I’m going, I’m going!’

  When she returned a few minutes later, they were all waiting for her in the corridor. Tish and Sue, of course, and the other three from next door.

  ‘Rebecca!’ exclaimed Margot Lawrence.

  ‘You look so slim!’ wailed Elf – Sally Elphinstone. ‘And grown-up!’

  Mara Leonodis just gazed at Rebecca, speechless. The dress was a wonderful shimmer of blue with white fringes round the bottom of the skirt. A matching blue stole, very long with more white fringes, was swathed around Rebecca’s shoulders.

  The Greek girl walked up to Rebecca and touched the stole.

  ‘Rebecca, you look sensational!’ she said.

  ‘Wasn’t it kind of Mr and Mrs Papademas?’ sighed Rebecca. It was thanks to Mara’s father that Rebecca had got the tennis sponsorship and the Papademas family were old friends of his.

  ‘I am jealous!’ laughed Mara. ‘I shall go and stay with Aunty Papademas next holidays, just see if I don’t.’

  The friends insisted on showing Rebecca off to the other Third Years in the rooms across the corridor – Jane and Jenny and Elizabeth and the two Annes – and Aba. It was good to see Aba back from Nigeria after her missed term. Then they paraded their fashion model into the Common Room and drew more exclamations from some of the older girls.

  Only Margaret Exton was churlish.

  ‘You’re only thirteen, you don’t need a dress like that.’

  ‘I’ll be fourteen this summer!’ said Rebecca.

  Tish stuck her tongue out at the Fourth Year girl.

  Suddenly a voice called out from the corridor:

  ‘It’s bedtime, you lot.’

  It was Pippa! She was on duty and she’d said she’d be coming over to Court House.

  The others pushed Rebecca out into the corridor – ‘Come on, show Pippa!’

  ‘Rebecca!’

  The Upper Sixth girl stared at her.

  ‘It – it’s the outfit, Pippa. They made me put it on!’ Rebecca smiled. ‘You said you wanted to see it –’

  Pippa closed her eyes and then opened them, wide.

  ‘Doesn’t she look terrific?’ asked Sue. ‘She never thought she’d own anything like this!’

  ‘You looked quite startled, Pippa,’ observed Tish.

  Pippa gave a gentle smile.

  ‘Not just startled. Stunned! Do you know, I didn’t recognise you? But it suits you – it suits you perfectly. Yes, Rebecca. I must say I like your taste.’

  ‘All I need now,’ said Rebecca, wryly, ‘is a chance to wear it.’

  ‘Roll on Commem,’ said Pippa, lightly. ‘It’ll be perfect for that. Mind you look after it till then.’

  After that, Rebecca got ready for bed. Feeling a bit like Cinderella, she hung the dress and stole up in the cupboard and laid out her school uniform for the morning.

  ‘Do you two really like it?’ she asked drowsily, lying in bed later.

  ‘Like it?’ whispered Sue from across the room. ‘It’s a dream.’

  Tish turned her head on the pillow.

  ‘Did you see Pippa’s face? She couldn’t get over it. What a dress!’

  She was very nearly asleep.

  ‘Once seen, never forgotten.’

  Tish was so right! And that was going to be the problem.

  TWO

  Rebecca in Suspense

  The first fortnight of term was packed with activity, but only one thing mattered to Rebecca. Would she get into the tennis team, or wouldn’t she? Her mood varied between wild optimism, if she was playing well, and hopeless despair, if she wasn’t. The suspense was terrible.

  The six friends discussed it endlessly.

  ‘I’ll never get in!’ Rebecca would say. ‘Not the first team, anyway. And that’s the only one that matters this term – now we know about the Inter!’

  ‘Of course you will!’

  ‘Della and Kate and Pippa are definites – they were in the team last year. But the other three places are wide open!’

  ‘They’ll put you in!’

  ‘Have you seen Alison playing in the trials?’ Rebecca would say. ‘She’s fantastic. She and Kate must have been playing all holidays.’

  ‘Well they would do, being sisters!’

  The remarkable Hissup sisters, Joanna had been the school’s Head of Games the previous year and now Kate was. The youngest Hissup, Alison, was in Court House, a Fifth Year, and she was also very good at games – any games.

  ‘Well,’ Sue or somebody would say, gripped by cold realism, ‘that still leaves two places wide open.’

  ‘And what about Jilly Good? She’s so tall! Seen her at the net?’

  ‘Oh, all right then. But that still leaves one place.’

  The friends, drinking cocoa and eating digestive biscuits late in the evening, in the kitchen at Court House, would go over the same ground, again and again.

  They all wanted Rebecca to get in the team. So did Robbie. So did Mrs Ericson, the county coach. Miss Willis, who was in charge of games, would certainly have liked to see her in, if possible.

  The one person who was lukewarm was Miss Darling.

  ‘I would like to welcome a new member of staff,’ announced Miss Welbeck, the principal, at Assembly on the first morning of term. ‘Miss Darling.’

  ‘Doesn’t look much of a darling to me,’ mouthed Tish, to Rebecca.

  ‘Miss Darling is joining the games staff and will be taking some of the load off Miss Willis’s shoulders this term,’ continued the Principal. ‘She has devoted her life to tenni
s. She’ll have sole responsibility for senior tennis and will be in charge of tennis coaching throughout the school. As a first priority she’ll be organising trials and in due course selecting the senior teams for this season, in consultation with Kate Hissup, our Head of Games. The selection of the First Six is of especial importance because at Miss Darling’s suggestion we have, for the first time, entered Trebizon for the inter-schools tennis cup. Now that we have a full­time tennis coach, and we’re exceedingly lucky to have secured her services, we hope and expect that under her expert guidance we shall acquit ourselves well in this important championship.’

  Naturally all this had an electrifying effect on Rebecca, and her rather dream-like ambition of getting into the school team took on a new edge.

  It seemed that the tennis team had to be decided at the latest by the beginning of May, which was a fortnight away, as the first round matches in the cup had to be played off during the first week of May.

  But, being new to the school, Miss Darling needed all of two weeks to get to know the state of tennis at Trebizon from top to bottom and who the most promising players were. She organised a lot of trials and saw Rebecca play three times during the fortnight.

  Rebecca longed to know where she stood in Miss Darling’s estimation but the new games teacher gave nothing away. She was a grey-haired woman with square shoulders and a very straight back, stiff as a ramrod, and she never smiled. However, she knew the game of tennis inside out and was reputed to be a brilliant coach. Having been hired to turn Trebizon into a top tennis school she had every intention of so doing.

  ‘I’d very much like to see Rebecca Mason in the team,’ Sara Willis said to her in the Staff Room one evening. ‘A really tough, hard season is exactly what she needs at this stage.’

  ‘If we get knocked out of the cup in the first round, she may not get it,’ said Miss Darling dryly. ‘There are quite a few girls here who could similarly benefit. Of course Rebecca’s in the running. She has to be. But we have to remember we’re entering a competition, not a benefit match. We have to pick the best team.’

  ‘I could see her in at number six,’ insisted Miss Willis. ‘She’s remarkable. And a remarkable competitor.’