CHAPTER V

THE HOCKEY SHIELD

The Sixth and Fifth were holding a meeting in the former's classroom. Madge Amhurst was in the chair--that is to say, she occupied the mistress's dais---and the rest of the girls found seats at desks or window-sills or on hot-water pipes. The subject under discussion was, they considered, of great importance. Should St. Etheldreda's compete this year for the Secondary and High Schools' Hockey Shield or should they not? The competition was open to any schools in the county, but till now St. Etheldreda's had not entered for it, chiefly because they did not consider themselves capable of raising a team good enough to justify their competing. Madge, who as usual had a good deal to say, was stating the case in favour of entering. Madge, of course, was one of the hockey players.

"It's like this," she was explaining. "Last year most of the Sixth played netball and had no interest at all in the hockey, and we had to draw chiefly on the younger girls for an eleven. It isn't much good putting in a team of youngsters when it's a case of playing some of the best elevens in the county. Nobody minds being beaten in a sporting game, of course, but we didn't want to make sillies of ourselves--expose ourselves to ridicule and all that. But this year the school is in a very different position as regards hockey. The present Sixth, with the exception of Pam, all play hockey and so do a good many of the Fifth. There are also several very promising players in the Fourth. Personally I think we could get up a team good enough to play any other school in the county."

"What does Allison say about it?" asked Deirdre Samways, one of the prefects.

"Allison thinks we've a very good chance. She's in favour of entering."

"Yes, but would she play herself?" asked Glenda. "Everyone knows Allison is far and away the best player we've got, and her presence in the eleven would make all the difference."

"Yes, she said she would love to play, and also promised to turn out to the practices beforehand and help in pulling the team together."

"Let us see what sort of a team we could put in the field," suggested Irene sensibly, for as the school had not yet played any hockey matches with outside teams this term, the membership of the new first eleven had not been finally decided.

Madge, aided by various suggestions from the rest of the assembly, drew up a probable team, and after a good deal of argument it was universally agreed that the team really consisted of first-rate material, every position being filled satisfactorily with one exception, that of goalkeeper.

"That's the weak spot," said Madge ruefully. "Two reliable backs and the best centre-half in the county, but not a single candidate for goalkeeper."

"Who was goalkeeper last season?" asked Pam Preston.

"Ethel Denham, till she left. Then, as no one else would volunteer to fill the vacancy we played three backs. That wouldn't do here."

"Who's the second eleven goalkeeper?"

"A Fourth-former, but she isn't any good except for junior games. She hasn't much idea of clearing quickly or of stopping anything really fast."

The girls looked at one another in perplexity till Deirdre Samways said slowly: "I suppose Pam wouldn't consider playing in goal for the hockey eleven? Don't you remember last year, when the netball pitch was under water, Pam joined us in hockey practices and kicked the ball out for us as if she'd done it all her life? She's our best wicket-keeper too."

All eyes were turned to Pam. Here was an idea!

"If Pam could keep goal at hockey anything like she does at netball!" exclaimed Glenda. "She is as quick as lightning."

"That's all very well," Pam interrupted. "But what about netball matches? If they happened to clash with yours I couldn't be in two places at once."

"Oh, bother the netball!" Madge exclaimed impatiently. "I think it ought to be made a junior game for the smaller ones. Everyone knows it's you Prestons who keep it going. There wouldn't be a team worth calling a team if it weren't for you three."

Here a voice from somewhere behind was heard as a head bobbed up from one of the back row desks. "I've joined the netball team, let me tell you," said Monica loudly.

Nat pulled her down into her seat with a violent jerk at her skirt, saying in a fierce whisper, "Sit down, whippersnapper! Everyone knows you joined the netball club out of sheer contrariness, because practically all the Fifth play hockey."

The Sixth-formers ignored this unseemly interruption as beneath their notice. Several of them were imploring Pam to "think it over."

"Well, I won't refuse right out," said Pam reluctantly at last. "But I won't make any promises. You must give me a day or two to consider."

The meeting finally adjourned upon the decision to enter St. Etheldreda's as a competitor for the shield and it was left to Deirdre Samways, the new captain, to arrange practices with the help of Madge, the club secretary. Madge, beaming with satisfaction, clambered down from her high seat and was in the act of turning to follow Deirdre out of the room when a voice murmured just behind her:

"Excuse me, but is this your handkerchief or is it the blackboard duster?" and Madge turned hastily to behold a slight, dark-haired girl holding out a handkerchief towards her.

"Er-thanks," she replied dryly. "Yes, it is my handkerchief and not the other article you mentioned. I must have dropped it."

She departed with Deirdre, chuckling. "Cheeky little thing, that new girl," she confided to Deirdre, "in spite of her childish look. I wish our pattern Fifth joy of her."

Deirdre pinned upon the notice-board a list of the schools who had entered for the shield, and Nat, with Monica, stopped behind to read the list.

"That's the school at present holding the shield," remarked Nat, pointing to one of the names. "They have won it two years in succession and are entitled to keep it if they win it this year. I believe they are awfully hot stuff."

"Fairhurst Priory," Monica read aloud. "Why, that's the school I was at last term."

"Really!" said Nat, "the school you were ex--Of course, you didn't see them play hockey," she hurriedly altered her sentence. "It was the summer term. Oh dear, I suppose there is prep to be done. I think I'll trot round first and see Ida about the book she's going to lend me."

"Please, not now," said Monica. "I want you to hear me say my Dick II first. I can always learn by heart better when I've someone to hear me say it."

"Bother you and your wretched lessons," grumbled Nat, but nevertheless she followed Monica into their study.

Since Monica's resolution to win the top position she had given little trouble in class and had proved to be the most zealous of pupils during the last fortnight. Miss Andrews, indeed, would have forgiven her a good deal for the sake of her prowess at Latin. Some of the girls wondered how long this enthusiasm for work would last, and if the new girl were really as clever as she intended them to believe--apart from her knowledge of Latin, in which she had evidently been well grounded. Glenda Vaughan shook her head darkly and said: "Wait and see."

Monica had not, however, kept an entirely unblemished conduct sheet, having fallen from grace and scandalized the entire school the previous Sunday. It happened in this way. Personal possessions were not allowed to be left about in the common room and passages under pain of confiscation, and it was one of Madge's prefectorial duties to confiscate any property she found left about in these public places after supper bell had rung. The careless owners, after a preliminary warning, were punished by the exaction of a penny fine from their pocket money, the fines being collected by Madge and placed in the offertory bag at Sunday service.

The girl who had most property confiscated was allotted the task of taking the money to church and placing it in the bag during collection, to make the impression of her forgetfulness deeper, so to speak. This rule had been made to check carelessness and slovenly habits and continual complaints of lost property--though the idea of allotting the task of placing the money in the bag to the chief offender had long ago originated with the prefects themselves.

Sometimes several weeks would pass without a single fine, but this particular week there seemed to have been a perfect epidemic of forgetfulness, and Madge had collected one and twopence in penny fines and handed the money over to Monica on Sunday morning. Monica had dutifully carried the money to church and, on receiving the bag from the girl next to her, had held it in her left hand while she proceeded very deliberately to drop fourteen pennies into it, one at a time. She was among the last to receive the collection bag, and the hymn being a short one, the organist was very softly extemporizing till the collection was finished. Thus the sound of each penny falling with a musical chink into the bag was heard all over the church. There were rustlings and scrapings, as all heads were turned and all eyes focussed on that one particular corner of the congregation, while the girls around had difficulty in restraining their titters as Monica solemnly continued dropping her pennies till the last was safely in. The sidesman at the other end of the row gazed in a kind of mesmerized trance from which he did not arouse himself till Prue, very red in the face, handed the weighty bag back to him.

Until the last girl had filed out of the porch, the school continued to be the centre of attraction to the congregation, who stared at them with far more attention, I am sorry to say, than was given to the retiring choir and clergy. Monica had succeeded in making St. Etheldreda's very conspicuous that day.

Nat, who had been sitting in another row, hastened to place herself at Monica's side when they formed up outside the church for the return journey.

"What you want is a keeper," she said darkly. "I shall never dare trust you away from my side after this. If I had been next to you, you wouldn't have held the bag long enough to drop many pennies in, I can assure you. Prinny will be wild. You'll have to face the music."

Monica made no reply, merely humming aggravatingly a line from Chu Chin Chow, which sounded something like this:

"Chinking, clinking, clinking, chinking, clinking on the ground. Forty thousand pieces----"

"You'll be crying, not singing, by the time Prinny has rolled you in the dust and sat on you," Nat warned her.

"Well, I might have done worse," replied Monica blithely. "I might have made it halfpennies instead of pennies."

After tea the next day Monica was duly sent for by the Principal, and returned a little later to her study. Much to Nat's relief there were no traces of tears.

"What did she say?" she inquired. Monica seized hold of her prep books and, dropping them on the table, sat down.

"Oh, not much after all," she replied briefly. "Now don't talk, there's a good fellow. I want to do an extra French exercise, besides prep."

Nat sighed. "Oh dear, I wish you wouldn't swot so much! You make me feel so lazy," she said.