Pegasi and Prefects (5 page)

The three of us stop laughing, and turn. My blouse is half pulled down over my chest. Self-consciously, I tug it all the way down. I don’t mind the other girls watching me change, as a rule, and I never really bother with drawing the cubicle curtains closed first, but in front of these grey eyes I am somehow ill at ease. Perhaps it’s that Diana’s so perfectly put together. I don’t know if Esther is right about her uniform being made in Paris; we can get ours made up from patterns wherever we want, but hers looks no different to anyone else’s to me. I do know her auburn hair is waved as if she was a film star, and she has a good inch of height on me. I’m not short, either.

“I’m Charley,” I say. No one really calls me Charles except Esther, and sometimes Cecily. I want to be clear that this new girl doesn’t have the right to use the nickname.

“That’s right, Diana,” Cecily says, perfectly politely, but with something careful in her level voice. Cecily doesn’t quite have Miss Carroll’s level of power, but she is also Sensitive to emotions and personalities around her. Something sin the dormitory atmosphere is clearly unsettling her. “I should have introduced you properly. Charley is your study mate.”

Diana’s gaze doesn’t even flicker from me to her. She gives no sign of acknowledging, in fact, that Cecily spoke at all. She’s still staring at me, as if I’m something fascinating but quite repulsive that she has accidentally unearthed by kicking a rock. “You can’t possibly have been christened Charley,” she says.

“My Christian name’s Charlotte,” I say. My tone is short. I don’t care so much for my own indignity, although it’s not exactly nice being subjected to this kind of attention, as for this rudeness to Cecily. What kind of new girl cuts the Head Girl on her first day, for goodness’ sake?

Esther, who can never leave well enough alone, corrects me: “Her Christian names are Charlotte Elizabeth Dorita Violet.”

Again, Diana doesn’t turn her head, just keeps her hostile, appraising gaze on me. “Is that true?”

I shrug. “After four boys, I suppose Mother thought she had better use up all her favourite girl’s names at once, just in case.” It’s a familiar joke, but it doesn’t feel very funny when I’m being stared at like that.

“You have four brothers?”

“Six altogether,” I say. It seems a shameful thing to admit to her, and I have no idea why. I also have two little sisters too young for boarding school. Somehow, I don’t feel like explaining that.

“Oh.” Diana tosses her head, not dislodging one hair from its place. I’m relieved that she has broken her stare at last. “That explains a lot, I suppose. You look more like a Charles than a Charlotte,” she adds, dispassionately.

I can feel the pulse pound in my ear. Of course, I’ve been teased for being less like a girl than a boy, plenty of times before. It’s natural enough to be a tomboy of sorts, with six brothers; I suppose my only other route would have been to be a petted little darling like my sisters Babs and Peggy and eventually grow up to be all expensive face cream, poses and carefully practiced airs and graces, like Valerie. I’ve never minded much, because the ribbing has always been good-natured enough up to this point. There’s nothing at all good-natured in the way Diana is regarding me.

I suddenly want to point out that I’m just as much of a girl as Diana, for all her permanent wave and the expensive perfume prickling at my nose. I know that would just make me ridiculous, and I don’t know how to tell her off without making myself look even more of a fool. I wish violently for the gift of Esther’s sharp retorts. I button the cuffs of my blouse, instead.

“That’s no way for a new girl to speak to a Senior Pre.” Gladys’ voice, always a little too strident, is raised further. She strides across the dormitory and fixes Diana with a stare even less friendly than the one Diana has subjected me to. “You’d better find your place quickly, my girl, or we’ll find it for you.”

That turns Diana’s attention from me at last. I suspect she even whitens a little with pure outrage.

“Oh, Gladys!” Valerie rushes to protest. “It’s her first day. She’s just trying to get to know people. She didn’t mean to upset Charley, did you, Diana?”

Diana shrugs.

Gladys, however, is still angry, her handsome face flushed. “Apologise to Charley at once, and finish unpacking.”

“I’m done.”

“How could you possibly be?”

Diana looks down her nose at her. “Well, Valerie simply waved her hand.”

Gladys has the appearance of a kettle about to give off steam. “Val, you used Psychokinetics? Using magic on chores is strictly forbidden, you must know that! It’s not fair on other girls who don’t have the same Gift.”

Diana looks pointedly at Esther, who has an armful of my blouses. Esther smiles sweetly at her in response.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to break the rules,” Cecily says hurriedly. “Perhaps it was different at her last school. Val, since you and Diana have become fast friends already, perhaps you could explain to her how things are done at Fernleigh Manor? Charley, Esther and I don’t want to do
all
your unpacking, you know. Hurry up and finish dressing.”

The girls settle, quietly. Esther leans over and says softly, her breath disconcertingly soft and warm in my ear. “Diana is, as I said, quite enchanting, don’t you think? She has a certain glamour to her.”

I look sharply at her. She’s laying out my hairbrush, and smiling to herself, and I don’t quite want to ask what she’s thinking.

I look across at Diana, remembering Miss Carroll’s admonitions to be a good friend and example to her. Somehow, I feel like it’s going to be an uphill battle.

As I watch, Diana stoops, and picks up a brooch from the floor. She stares at it for a moment, and I can’t read her expression, but there’s something odd in it.

“Here—you dropped this.” She hands it across to the other new girl, who dips her head shyly and thanks her. Diana crosses to sit on her bed. “You’re Rosalind, right?” She favours the other girl with a smile so charming that it looks like she’s practiced it in front of the mirror for a week. “We should get acquainted. After all, we’re both new girls in the top form. We should be able to help each other out quite a bit.”

Rosalind murmurs something in reply, looking pleased. Diana, for her part, looks like she’s purring. Thinking of cats, however, Valerie looks distinctly like someone has just taken away her bowl of cream at the last moment. She hesitates a moment, then joins the other girls on Rosalind’s bed, looking a little left out.

“After all,” Cecily says in a low voice, “they’re both new girls, and that must be hard, in the Sixth. There’s no reason they shouldn’t make friends.” She seems to be arguing with Esther, despite the fact that Esther hasn’t said anything at all.

“Oh,” Esther says, softly. “I’m sure she has only the best of motives.”

I don’t really understand the byplay, and it makes me feel shut-out and uncomfortable.

When we head down to dinner Rosalind walks arm-in-arm with Diana, with Valerie trickling woefully in the rear. It irritates me, for some reason. Silly. Just because a girl appears to have a certain amount of Fablespeaking ability doesn’t mean that she’s a decent sort. No one who is pleased to make friends with the likes of Diana and Valerie is really worth the effort.

Still, I feel a little disappointed. She did seem at first like a nice little thing.

It’s an unwritten rule at most schools that new girls don’t push themselves forward. Rosalind Hastings seems to have taken this to heart, to the extent that she almost becomes invisible. She probably would, I speculate, if she’d had the right gifts. She seems, in fact, outright frightened of the other girls. It puzzles me, a little. She seemed shy on her first day, certainly, but a girl who could approach another girl’s pegasus like that didn’t seem to be quite the scared rabbit she appears to be now. I see a fair amount of her outside of lessons, although not really to talk to, as Diana is always inviting her into the study. She doesn’t seem so bad, then, just rather quiet. In class or the grounds, though, she shies away from anyone other than Diana or Valerie who speaks a word to her. Cecily has tried, on several occasions, to be kind, with no results, and Frances complains bitterly about having such an unfriendly study mate.

Strange kid. I can’t quite see why Diana has taken her up with such a rush. Surely Val, who is pretty and graceful and gossipy, would have more appeal to someone like Diana.

Diana, for her part, obviously doesn’t see the point of unwritten rules. I tell myself she only gets away unscathed because the Sixth are too grown-up to snub her like the lower forms would. The real truth is, Valerie Lincoln isn’t the only one in the Sixth trailing after her; half the girls from the other Houses seem to have lost their hearts to her on first sight. Within days the existing sets in the form have reshaped themselves into those who have no time for Diana and her airs and graces and those who worship at her feet.

As her study mate, I’m in the perfect position to watch the waves settle as she passes. She is as charming to her admirers as she is contemptuous to me. Not that they are all allowed equal time in the sunshine of her presence. She allows pretty, dainty little Valerie to dance attendance on her, doing her darning and helping her with chores. Frances is occasionally treated to the sunshine of her smiles and a share of her jobs when she chooses. Rosalind Hastings, however, is Diana’s boon companion. Sometimes, I catch sight of Rosalind’s heart-shaped face and remember the way Ember responded to her, and it seems a bit of a pity that she’s taken up with someone I dislike so much. It seems impossible to befriend one of Diana’s supporters. Diana’s elegant and hostile presence forms an insuperable barrier to striking up a conversation with any of the girls in her wake.

Not that I don’t have my own pals, in any case. It’s a pity that neither of them feel about fabled beasts the way I do but then, Gifts are rarely common to friends. It’s unreasonable of me to care.

All that is properly my concern about the new girls is their performance at games. Neither are very promising. Diana is neither brilliant nor a slacker, not a potential team member but holding up her end well in Form games and Swedish exercises. Rosalind is a complete washout; Matron informs me that she is excused from games on the basis of delicacy. Looking at her pale complexion, I think she would be better off outside than cooped up inside all day, especially if she’s delicate. It’s not really my concern, of course.

I only come to a real understanding of how different Diana is to your usual new girl when the roles are assigned for the end of year school play, ten days after the start of term.

Esther has always been considered one of the leading lights of the Drama Guild, which is taken very much in earnest at Fernleigh. She’s clever enough to memorise lines with ease, has a certain flair for the dramatic, and, to be perfectly frank and at risk of expanding her already considerable vanity, is acknowledged as one of the beauties of the school. She’s had several key roles in the annual school plays and we all assumed she was just waiting until she was in the Sixth, which naturally has first claim on any decent roles, to take on starring parts. When Esther announces that the Guild is going to put on
The Princess
at the end of term, Cecily and I just assume Esther’s taking her pick of the parts.

I’m in Cecily’s study, escaping Diana for a bit, when Esther comes back from the casting meeting in a state of high disgust.

“Those blind, incompetent idiots!”

I’m very glad that Gladys has music; Esther in a high temper and Gladys in a literally flammable mood are a bad combination.

“You’re not Hilarion then, I take it?” Cecily says.

“Not even close! Cissy, dearest, hand me a cushion. I need to shriek into something.”

“Why ever did they pass you over?”

Esther rolls her eyes to the heavens. “Diana Struthers has consented to lend her luminous presence to the Guild. As soon as she expressed an interest in reading for the Princess, they were all over her.”

“A new girl of only ten days’ standing in the lead,” Cecily says, slowly. “Surely not.”

“But surely so.” Esther sighs. “She’s not what I’d call a brilliant actress, either. But oh, the enthusiasms and passions over how perfectly she would look the part! A real princess, we can all agree on that.”

“I don’t see why that means you can’t play Hilarion.” I feel a little lost.

“Oh, that’s all Diana, too. I could—oh, it would be a relief to be a boy, so I could spit. She confessed, very shyly, that she would feel terribly awkward if she was taller than the Prince, and it simply didn’t seem right for the School House to hog all the parts. I hadn’t even said I wanted to play Hilarion yet, but she was looking straight at me. She’s a beast!”

“So, who are you playing?” Cecily asks. “Florian?”

“Melissa!” Esther tosses the pillow she’s been clutching onto the floor. “Can you see me pining and melting over the first man I meet? It’s a horror of a role. This year is my last chance, too! I really wanted some decent experience from school before I have to go to university.”

Cecily makes soothing motherly noises and I pat Esther on the back. She subsides a little.

“I must make the best of it, I suppose. What gets me is why Diana was so determined to have me not play Hilarion. It didn’t feel like it was just my height that made her want to keep me out of it. Why, I’ve been positively angelic to her—at least compared to how I’ve felt like behaving,” she amends quickly, catching Cecily’s raised eyebrow.

“She didn’t want her moment of glory spoiled by playing opposite someone prettier than I her,” I say, with certainty.

“That’s probably true,” Esther says, cheering up visibly. She bats her long lashes. “My devastating beauty does tend to stir up all kinds of trouble. It’s hardly my fault.”