Drabble Attempt

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OK - this is my first attempt at drabble so don't be too hard; it is just chapter one of a proposed mini-book. I have put it in my journal but I am a bit of technological cretin and am not sure how to do a link so while I am working that out, I'll post here too. I think though you can just click on my name!!!

It is set just before the autumn term succeeding the Attic Term so basically a year on from when Attic Term starts....

Chapter 1 - Letters and Love

Dear Captain and Mrs Marlow,

I am pleased to advise you that the decision has been made to appoint your daughter, Ann, as Head Girl for the coming year. I look forward to working with Ann in this capacity and am sure her term of office will prove successful. Please offer her my congratulations.

Yours sincerely,

E. Keith (Headmistress)


Nicola put her head in her arms in mock anguish and leaned over the breakfast table, surfacing moments later with a tragic expression,

"Oh lor"

"There's no need to be like that Nicky" said Mrs Marlow crossly, "Ann has earned this honour through being a credit to her family and to the school which is more" - she breathed in sharply, "than can be said for some".

A distraction arrived in the shape of the equally discrediting Ginty, still in her dressing gown and slippers.

"What's up?" she asked, reaching across Mrs. Marlow for toast.

"The inevitable" said Nicola, "Ann is Head Girl"

Unlike Nicola, Ginty was not entirely unhappy with this news. She had a feeling that Ann's kind heart could prove unexpectedly useful in a position of authority if she got in a tight spot. Furthermore, Ann would always trust expressed motives and not look deeper, which could be useful if disingenuous explanations were required. Not that Ginty planned to be in any more trouble EVER again at school. Especially not this term, not now she was in the lower sixth.

"Oh Mum - it's going to be unbearable!" burst out Nicola, "Ann all holier than thou and fussing more than ever now that she has a position to uphold.."

She stopped abruptly as Ann herself came into the room.

"Are you all right Nicky?" she asked, a concerned expression in her blue eyes, "You sounded awfully upset about something when I was coming downstairs"

There could have been an awkward silence but Ginty was swift,

"No - Nick was yelling with joy. You're head girl."

"Really" Ann's face lit up and she looked suddenly sincerely happy and was quite oblivious to the glances exchanged by her sisters, "oh that is - well - completely wonderful! And Nick" turning to her "it's so sweet of you to be pleased too. Sometimes, I thought, well…." her voice trailed off "Head girl, is it really true Mummy?"

Mrs Marlow smiled and held out the letter for Ann to read, "It certainly is. Well done Ann. We are so proud of you."

Ann beamed back at her mother, her face still glowing with delight and pride. Nicola stared. She wasn't used to Ann showing emotion like that. Normally she was so calm and collected both inside and out; she felt oddly touched by such a display of feeling, although she couldn't say precisely why, and felt a lurch of guilt at her protest having been misinterpreted.

Ann came out of her reverie a second later to ask haltingly, scanning the letter again "nothing about prefects or anything in the letter then?" glancing anxiously at Ginty.

"Oh come on" said Ginty herself, "you know yourself you only get told that when you get back to school. It's only head girls who get a special letter and, anyway, I think we both know I have as much chance of appointment as," brandishing it, "this piece of toast."

Nicola giggled and Ginty was comforted. For though she knew what she said was true, she minded rather more than she cared other people to know, especially since she was almost certain that Monica and Emma would be appointed, and possibly, terrible though it would be, Jocelyn, Verity and Isa too. The thought of being excluded from all the “prefects only” activities was something she had dwelt on a good deal and she was conscious now that her plans of apparent indifference were on the point of being put into practice.

"Well" said Nicola, "I'm off to meet Patrick and can tell him the news too. He's always rather liked Ann so I expect he'll be pleased" - Nicola added this as a way of assuaging her guilt and, anyway, it was true. Patrick had never really understood why she found Ann so trying and, sometimes, he had unexpectedly taken Ann's side in their talks. She remembered that when Ann had refused to let her borrow her bike to go to Mass at Patrick's chapel, Patrick had commented that he had to admire Ann for standing so firmly by her principles.

Ginty didn't react to Nicola's announcement. It was a long time since she had thought much about Patrick Merrick. After the last Christmas holidays when she was at Monica's she had returned to school to find that his letters slowed to a trickle. When she had returned home for the Easter holidays, she had avoided him. She found her courage failed her and she simply couldn't face the excruciating embarrassment of seeing him after the fiasco of the telephone calls nearly a year ago. More surprisingly, she found she really hadn't missed him and, since then, she had put him out of her head so successfully that Nicola was welcome to him - even applauded for distracting him. She was conscious that the next holidays would bring the Twelfth Night party, but she'd think of that later. Ginty found she could nearly always adapt herself to situations as they arose.

Nicola grabbed a piece of toast for the road and left, wondering if the rest of the day would bring better news. Ann as head girl was such a nauseating thought, although, Nicola had to admit, she would probably be rather a good one. Certainly, she was calmer than Karen and, when she felt confident, more of a leader. Abruptly, Nicola remembered her brief and disastrous spell in the guides and how Ann had been regarded as easily the best patrol leader. It was just, Nicola kicked a stone savagely, she was just so irritatingly good. But why was that so annoying?

Nicola was spared internally answering this awkward question by the arrival of Patrick,

“Hey Nick - so glad to see you!” he looked suddenly immensely relieved.

“What’s up?” said Nicola.

Patrick groaned and tugged at his black hair,

“Too much for yours truly to deal with without you, that’s for certain,” he sighed, sitting down on the grass and patting the ground beside him in invitation.

Gratified by this unexpected expression of regard, Nicola seated herself,

“What’s up?” she said, giving him a friendly shove.

“Visitor to morning coffee” he said slowly, “important visitor actually. Ronnie’s fiancée.”

Patrick’s cousin Ronnie Merrick appeared in Nicola’s mind. Dashing and confident, he was, Patrick had explained, heir to the more distinguished Merrick land in Yorkshire. Nicola had always though Patrick’s own family quite distinguished enough, but Patrick had hastened to point out that his father was only the younger son and Ronnie’s the elder, with all that implied and Nicola had nodded wisely. Ronnie was in the brigadiers and, subsequently, Nicola always pictured him in uniform, although it seemed unlikely he would bring his new fiancée to tea in such garb.

“Oh” she said, “I didn’t know he was engaged”

“Nor did we until this morning. Uncle and Aunt adore her apparently and think she is..” Patrick affected a sentimental tone, “..quite charming and utterly perfect for Ronnie. So anyway, they have all come to pay a family visit and talk weddings and, I…well…..you will come won’t you?”

Nicola knew that Patrick still suffered from paroxysms of shyness when meeting new people and readily agreed but, with morning coffee rapidly approaching, she did express some concerns at her appearance and wondered aloud if she should go home and change.

“But you look great” said Patrick dismissively. He got up, pulled Nicola to her feet and retained her hand as he led her towards the house.

“The day,” thought Nicola, “was brightening up.”

They stopped to admire Ronnie’s new car in the drive and went into the house. Voices could be heard from the morning room and, at the sound of one, Nicola’s stomach tightened.

“Patrick…” she began.

It was too late; Patrick led her into the morning room, where Ronnie greeted her effusively. Then a slender figure with brown hair, elegantly dressed, turned around and smiled a charming smile. Nicola froze and was struck dumb, but Lois Sanger was entirely composed.