Third Year at Malory Towers (19 page)

She certainly could run very fast and she was powerful too, getting the ball from Darrell nearly every time by tackling strongly and swiftly.

“Play up, Darrell! Play up!” yelled the watching third-formers, every time Darrell got the ball and sped off with it. “Oh, well passed! Oh, well caught! Play UP, Malory Towers!”

Goal to Barchester. Goal to Malory Towers. Half-time. One all. Slices of sour lemon being brought out on plates. And here was Molly beside Darrell, talking to her earnestly.

“Darrell! You're tiring the other girl out nicely. She's good, but she gets winded more quickly than you do. Watch your chance, tackle her next time she comes up, get the ball, pass to Catherine, run level, let her pass back to vow and then SHOOT! Do you hear?”

“Yes. Yes, Molly,” said Darrell, almost swallowing her slice of lemon in her eagerness to take it all in. “Yes—I think my opponent's tiring. I can out-run her. I'll do what you say if I can. Tell Catherine.”

“I have,” said Molly. “Now—there's the whistle. You're all doing well. But I think it will have to be you who does a bit of shooting this half, Darrell. The others allow themselves to be tackled too easily. Good luck.”

Molly went off the field. A chorus went up from the watchers “PLAY—UP—Malory TOWERS! PLAY—UP-Malory TOWERS!”

And Malory Towers played up. Darrell and Catherine passed beautifully to one another, and Catherine shot. Two goals to Malory Towers! Then the Barchester team got going again. Second goal to them. Two all. Fifteen minutes to play. “PLAY—UP—Malory TOWERS!”

Darrell felt the time slipping by. Two goals all—Malory Towers must shoot again before time was up. She took a fine pass, and ran with the ball in her lacrosse net. Her opponent tackled her. Darrell dodged her very neatly and sped down the field.

“Go it, DARRELL! SHOOT! SHOOT!” yelled everyone but Darrell was too far from goal to do that. Instead, she sent the ball to Catherine, who, alas! muffed the catch, fell over, and let the enemy snatch it up from where it rolled on the ground. Then down the field rushed the Barchester wing, back towards the Malory Tower's goal.

But there the goalkeeper stopped it valiantly. Hurrah! Saved again! Up the field came the ball again, and Darrell made a remarkable catch, leaping high in the air.

“Go it, DARRELL!” yelled the onlookers. Darrell ran towards the Barchester goal. Catherine kept level with her, watching carefully for a pass. When she was tackled Darrell passed the ball deftly to Catherine, making a lovely throw. Catherine caught it, but was tackled immediately. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Darrell, watching.

She threw. It was a clumsy throw, but Darrell ran to catch the ball. Once in her net she kept the ball there, dodging cleverly when she was tackled. A great cry came up from the onlookers.

“SHOOT! SHOOT! SHOOT!”

And Darrell shot. She threw the ball with all her might at the goal. The Barchester goalkeeper came out to stop it. The ball struck her pad, then struck the goal post—and rolled to the back of the net.

“GOAL!” What a cry went up. “Jolly good, Darrell! Fine shot! Hurrah! Three goals to two!”

Almost immediately the whistle blew for time. The two teams lined up and cheered one another. Darrell was trembling with excitement and joy. She had played in a match-she had shot the winning goal!

“Well played, young Darrell!” said Molly's voice. “You did well. That was a very fine goal.”

Darrell went off to the big tea provided for the two match-teams, her heart singing. This was a great moment for her. The third-formers all crowded round her, clapping her on the shoulder, praising her, delighted that one of their own form should have shot the winning goal.

Darrell was very tired and very happy that evening. What would her father and mother and her sister Felicity say when she told them all this? Thank goodness she was seeing them tomorrow, and they would know. She could hardly wait to tell them!

All the third-formers shared in Darrell's delight. They cheered her when she came into the common room, and she stood there blushing and embarrassed.

“Good old Darrell! So modest she didn't even think of looking in the team-list for her own name—and so marvellous that she shoots the winning goal!” cried Irene, and thumped Darrell on the back so hard that she coughed.

The last day come. All the packing was done, except for a few things that the car-girls were bundling into their cars at the last minute. Good-byes were said. Addresses were exchanged and immediately lost. Matron tried to find Belinda who had completely disappeared. Miss Potts tried to find Irene, who also seemed to have disappeared. There was a tremendous noise and confusion, in the middle of which seven boys appeared on seven horses in the drive among the cars!

“Bill! Good heavens! Here are all your brothers again!” yelled Darrell. But Bill was getting Thunder from the stables and was not there. She appeared a moment later on her horse, and yelled with delight to see all her brothers and their horses in the drive.

“You've come to fetch me! Look at Thunder! Isn't he in good condition? Get up, Thunder! Oh, he's so pleased to see you all.”

The train-girls went, and there was a little peace. Irene wandered round lamenting that someone had taken her suitcase. Gwen went round scowling because nobody had yet come to fetch her, and she didn't want to be the last. Belinda stalked her with an open sketchbook and pencil.

“Gwen! It's my last chance! Let me sketch that scowl!”

Darrell laughed. How like Belinda to do that when her mother and father were waiting patiently in the car for her outside!

Zerelda popped up to say good-bye. How different she looked now from when she came. She wore her school hat for one thing—a thing she had said she would never do! “Good-bye,” she said. “See you again next term. It's been wunnerful here. I'm glad I came—and gee, I'm glad I'm coming back!”

“Good-bye!” croaked Mavis, waving to everyone as she climbed into her car. “See you next term.”

Bill galloped off with her brothers, calling a mad goodbye. Mam'zelle Dupont watched her go in amazement. “In France such a thing could not happen!” she declared. “That Bill! I think at home she must let her horse sleep with her in a corner of her bedroom!”

Darrell giggled. Belinda came by with a wooden box of bath salts she had suddenly remembered leaving in the bathroom. She collided with Mam'zelle and the box fell to the floor.

A green powder covered the hall, and a green cloud rose up into the air, with a very strong smell.

“Now, Belinda, I...” began Mam'zelle, and then paused with her mouth wide open. She felt frantically about her plump person for her handkerchief. Just as Miss Potts came up with Miss Peters, Mam'zelle sneezed. It was one of her best efforts.

“ A-WHOOOOOSH-OOOOOOO!”

“Good gracious!” said Miss Potts, startled. I never knew anyone sn...”

“A-Whooooooo—” began Mam'zelle again and Miss Potts ran for shelter.

Darrell and Sally giggled helplessly. They remembered the afternoon of the Trick. Darrell suddenly picked up somebody's umbrella and opened it.

“Now sneeze, Mam'zelle!” she cried, holding the umbrella over Miss Potts and Miss Peters. “I'll protect everyone!”

Darrell's mother, coming up the steps in search of her, was amazed to see this sight. Darrell flung away the umbrella joyfully and sprang at her mother. “Oh here you are. I thought you were never coming! Sally, are you ready? Good-bye Mam'zelle, good-bye, Potty, good-bye Miss P., good-bye Matron. See you all next term! This has been a SUPER term!”

“Good-bye!” said Matron. “Be good.”

“Good-bye!” said Miss Potts and Miss Peters together. “ Remember your holiday reading!”

“A-Whoooosh-ooooo!” said Mam'zelle, and ran forward to wave. Gwen just saved her from falling over the open umbrella.

The car drove off. Darrell waved frantically till they were out of the front gates. Then she leaned back contentedly and began.

“Mother! Daddy! What DO you think? I played in the third match-team yesterday against Barchester School—and I scored the winning goal. Mother, I—”

Sally listened contentedly. Good old Darrell! She had had a lovely term and enjoyed it. She was sorry it was over. But there would be the summer term—and the autumn term— and the winter term—oh, terms and terms and terms!

“Here's the last glimpse of Malory Towers, Darrell,” said Sally, suddenly. Darrell opened the window and leaned out.

“I'll soon be back, Malory Towers!” she called “Goodbye for a little while. I'll soon be back!”

The End.