Concluding (15 page)

A younger girl turned under this gaze to another, and whispered, "I bet Edge is a bit inside out to do with Mary."

"Why, whatever for?"

"Haven't you heard? There was a telegram to say the sister Doll was badly ill at home, and she was to go at once. Muriel had it from one of the seniors, who was there when this wire came. Rotten luck, on the night of the dance."

Her friend said, "I thought I hadn't seen Mary today," and went on to speak of the time she'd had to wait before she had been able to iron her dress.

An evening air, entering cool by wide windows, wafted the scent of that pyre of flowers to Miss Edge, reminded the lady that she had not yet had her stroll, that there could be no leisure for that now, with all she knew she had still to do. At the same time it carried a small buzz to her sharp ears. She at once looked more closely at the azalea and rhododendron. With a great rush of horror, she realised the whole pile of blooms was alive with bluebottles.

For a moment she thought she might faint.

She looked again. She forced herself to admit that, at first glance, she had exaggerated. There were not as many as she had thought. Yet the scent was distinctive, sickly. So what did this new frightful-ness portend? And how could they ever dispose, now, of this huge mass of blooms? While the whole idea, that there must be the body underneath, was unhealthy, morbid, too absurd, would she have to face it, after the girls had made these flowers into great swags of fragrant colour at her direction on the walls, would it be that buzzing flies might stay round the bouquets, turn all to decay and desecration?

Her mouth and throat burned dry. Try as she might, she could not swallow. She picked up the cup of tea with hands atremble, but before she could bring it to her lips, she retched.

She supposed there was no-one who had not noticed. She looked about, clinking the cup down. And not a soul seemed to have seen.

How idiotic to start an illness at this juncture, when she would get small help from Baker, goodness knows, and with the Dance upon them. But she swore she must protect her Girls; they should never know. It was Founder's Day. Everything must proceed, and in due order.

At this moment she saw their little red State tourer come up the drive past these Banqueting Hall windows, attended by its cloud of dust. A middle-aged woman, on whom Miss Edge had not set eyes in her life, sat alone in the back. The worst was, if this should turn out to be some new plan of Baker's, she could not ask who in the world might the creature be. Then Edge wondered whether Mr Rock had a younger sister, or perhaps it was even Elizabeth's mysterious aunt. She watched the staff, but they seemed to pay small heed. Mr Dakers entered.

"You are not last," Edge said, at her most gracious, in an allusion to Marchbanks and Sebastian, the intense curiosity making her feel livelier already.

"My apologies, ma'am," the man replied. "I do not know how it can have happened."

"You need not insist," she assured him. "Founder's Day is one occasion in the year when we may all relax. Until evening, that is, when the real business of our holiday commences, with music, with the first waltz." She smiled in a friendly manner. And the smile stayed frozen on her face as Marion entered from the direction of the Sanctum. The child had been in tears again. She bent to Edge's ear.

"Miss Baker says, ma'am," she whispered. "Can you spare a minute. Mrs Manley's just arrived."

Manley, Edge asked herself as she rose, Manley? Why Merode of course. Merode Manley. Oh, what devilry was this?

When Edge came in Baker was pouring a cup of tea for the woman. She remarked, "Dear, this is Mrs Manley, Merode s aunt."

"How d'you do, Mrs Manley," Edge said, while she took her hand, "I'm sorry we've had to bring you all this way," she added, so as not to admit ignorance of her colleague's intentions.

"How d'you do," the woman replied. "But I still don't quite understand," she said to Miss Baker.

"I was just explaining to Merode's aunt the predicament in which we find ourselves," Baker suggested diplomatically, because it was quite on the cards this woman might give trouble. She had the air of a determined creature. "There is nothing the matter with Merode," the Principal went on. "On the contrary, we've always found her so helpful, haven't we dear? But I must say, in the present circumstances, we hardly know what to decide."

"It is Miss Baker, isn't it?" Mrs Manley addressed Edge's colleague. "Then I'd be so grateful if you could tell me what this is all about. You say she is quite well?"

"Yes, Mrs Manley, I'm glad to assure you the doctor's given a clean bill. But the truth of the matter is, she was out most of last night."

"Who with?" Mrs Manley asked sharp.

"Another student," Edge replied, as quick.

"A girl?" Mrs Manley enquired, turning what Miss Edge decided was a hostile look upon her.

"We have no male students here," Edge spoke out severely, so much as to suggest that a joke in bad taste had been cracked.

"And the other girl is not home yet," Miss Baker explained.

"Yes, I see," Mrs Manley said, not in the least apologetic.

"So we were wondering if you could help," Edge announced, as though her colleague and herself had hatched a curious plot.

"I wonder if I could see Merode?" the woman asked, but in a hard voice.

"I think that would be best," Miss Edge agreed.

"But, dear, the doctor," Baker objected. "He said she was on no account to be pressed. And we have our regulations."

"Surely the child's own aunt. . . ?" Mrs Manley asked.

"She was in pyjamas," Edge interrupted, as if this explained all.

"Well of course, since it was at night," the strange woman said.

"Do have another of these cakes. We rather pride ourselves on them," Miss Baker offered, and it occurred to Edge that, everything considered, this particular aunt and guardian was having a fine tea. Did they have nothing at home, for them to eat so enormously whenever they came over? Was it fair to the girls in the holidays?

"Thank you," Mrs Manley accepted. "No," she went on, "had you said Merode wore her day things, then I would have been worried."

"She has torn the leg," Miss Edge pointed out.

"But you told me she was not hurt."

"The trouser leg," Edge patiently explained.

"On a briar, because it was dark, no doubt," the guardian answered, and again showed relief in her tone of voice.

"Oh, it had occurred to us this thing might have been worse," Miss Edge commented, at her most dry. Baker gave a glance of warning.

"We wondered if we could put our heads together," she said in a conciliatory way.

"I'd like a word with the child first," her aunt insisted.

"Of course," Miss Baker said. "The only trouble is the doctor . . ." and she did not finish her sentence.

"You surely did not get me over to forbid my seeing my Merode," Mrs Manley objected, and appeared to harden.

"There are also our regulations," Baker pointed out, in embarrassment.

The relative snorted.

"All the more reason, then," she said, starting to get her gloves and bag together.

"I think what my colleague tried to explain, without having to cross the i's and dot the t's, is this," Miss Edge announced. "You cannot, of course, be familiar with the Directives under which we carry on our work here. They are designed to protect us, as well as the students, from day to day inconveniences that may arise where a community of young people exists."

"But you are not going to tell me this happens commonly, Miss Edge."

"In the ten years we have been here, I do not know when we have had someone over at such short notice," the lady answered, then waited. When there was no retort, and she had given Baker a look to express her disagreement at the summoning of what had turned out to be a recalcitrant witness, Miss Edge continued, "We are fronted by an entire scaffolding of Reports. In certain circumstances we are obliged to render a Report of behaviour to our Superior Authority. And, if we are to do so, the most stringent Rules obtain. Access to the party concerned before she has given an explanation is rigidly excluded. I cannot see her, my colleague even cannot do so, no-one can intervene before she has given her own story."

"Then why have me over?"

"We thought it the human thing," Baker interjected, miserably.

"But what's behind this, what has she done?" Mrs Manley complained.

"There's a man in it, I'm very much afraid," Baker muttered.

"No really Miss Edge . . ." the aunt began.

"Miss Baker," Edge corrected, as if to dissociate herself from the line which was being taken.

"... I can't accept that," Mrs Manley went on, with a look of venom at Edge. "Only sixteen, and not ever a hint of the kind at home."

"We sometimes notice with families . . . where the parents are no longer together . . ." Baker uttered in a faint voice, mixing Mary with Merode.

"Their orphans wander about the garden at night in pyjamas?" Mrs Manley asked, and actually laughed aloud.

"Miss Baker has written the standard work on this difficult subject," Edge said, thrown back on the defensive.

"Well I don't know that my husband wouldn't agree with her," the woman announced in what could only be termed a fruity voice. "But you and I realise it's hardly usual, don't we?" she had the impudence to ask Edge.

"I am afraid we shall not see eye to eye," this lady said, while Baker made a gesture of weariness.

"There's a whole history of such cases," she explained "I've no doubt," Mrs Manley agreed, conscious perhaps that she had gone too far. "And of course I'm grateful to you for the chance to put our heads together," she added with what was, to Edge, an altogether offensive familiarity. "But I have the right to see my ward at any time, I hope?"

"Of course," Miss Baker said.

"Yes," Edge put in. "The question is, how not to make it harder for her."

"In view of your rules about reports, you mean?" the aunt enquired.

"Just so."

"Oh well, Miss Edge, I hope it won't come to that, indeed not," Mrs Manley answered, in such a way that the lady felt this relative was in full command. Then the aunt tried a shot in the dark. "But I do feel I have a right to learn how it was you came to the conclusion there might be a boy in it, before I go up to see my niece," she said.

"She told Miss Marchbanks," Baker explained, quite unaware.

"Exactly," Mrs Manley said. "But did she write out an account?"

"Oh no," Baker replied, with signs of distress because she saw looming ahead the awkwardness that Merode had fainted. But Edge could see further. She was on tenterhooks.

"Then this Marchbanks person questioned her?"

"Yes, and such a distressing thing occurred," Baker hurried on, regardless. "The dear child fainted."

"Fainted?" Mrs Manley echoed, in a voice of horror. It was then that Baker saw the pit she had dug for herself.

"Oh, not what you think at all," she said pettishly. "It was what made the doctor diagnose shock."

"Third degree shock," Mrs Manley snorted. Edge had to keep herself from clicking her fingers together she was so exasperated.

"Really, madam, I cannot have this," Baker said, with great firmness, rising to the occasion. "I asked you here to have a quiet talk about what was best in the child's own interest, and you make suggestions as to our competence. Perhaps I should remind you that the State, when It delegated Responsibility to my colleague and myself, gave us a large measure of protection, or latitude if you prefer the word. I asked you over because I felt that was the human thing to do. If you insist you must see your niece before she has voluntarily made her explanation, then my Report shall go in and I'll note the fact in what I have to write, which may go hard with her. After all, I can lay claim to some experience."

"There is one of our students missing yet," Edge added, white of face.

"But what d'you get out of your girls if you won't allow anyone to go near 'em?" Mrs Manley asked, in a humble voice. Baker, at this point, was misled.

"My dear Mrs Manley," she said, back at once to her most expansive. "We are not like that with our children. There is perfect confidence."

"And if they won't talk?"

"Well then, that is very difficult, isn't it?"

"But Miss Baker, who is this Marchbanks?"

"Our deputy.
We
both have to go to London Wednesdays, and while we are away she takes our place. We have complete faith in her, isn't that so, Edge?"

"Of course," Miss Edge agreed, showing in her voice the disapproval she felt at the line their little talk was still taking.

"And, in spite of the rule you have about interviews with your students, she was brought before Miss Marchbanks?"

"She was found hidden," Edge interrupted, finally taking charge.

"Then who hid her?"

Miss Edge answered with a prolonged shrug of the shoulders.

"That's one point on which I'd like to see Merode, of course," Mrs Manley said. "But this woman interviewed the child?"

"Certainly not," Edge objected. "When Merode was discovered she was brought before our deputy, as she would have been before us if we had not been obliged to be elsewhere."

"She was asked no questions?"

"Miss Marchbanks has thirty years in the State Service. I am confident she would never betray her Trust."

"But excuse me, Miss Edge, you haven't answered my question."

"I have some regard for accuracy, madam. Since neither myself or my colleague were present. . ."

"And yet my little girl fainted?"

"She blurted something out about a man and then she fainted," Edge agreed.

"You see, it is just this point that I find so difficult to understand," Mrs Manley appealed to Baker. "What man? Where is he? If she volunteered what she did, why don't I know about him? And in her pyjamas, too."

"But my dear lady, it is precisely why we asked you to come over. Merode has been simply splendid the whole time she has been here. We just wondered if she had given any indication in her letters?"

"There is one of our girls we cannot account for yet," Edge repeated, in a warning voice.