Free BEXHILL SCHOOL FOR GIRLS, Assembly by Adrian Akers-Douglas Page A

wished she could discuss
it with her closest friends, but she was afraid that they might be
shocked.
    When her mother
came home, she asked Anna what she’d been doing.
    “Oh, nothing
much.”
     

Chapter 6
Sally + Linda =
Mischief
    The telephone
rang. Linda picked it up.
    “Yes?”
    “What do you
mean ‘Yes’?” said the voice at the other end.
    “What did you
want me to say, Sally? ‘No’?”
    “I wanted you
to say ‘Hi, this is Linda. I have some great ideas to amuse people
who are bored to tears. If you are suffering from this condition,
please sign up to my service.’”
    Linda smiled.
“So, you’re bored?”
    “Terminally,
and the holidays have only just begun. Shall we meet?”
    “Good idea.
Where and when? How about in the café at Paxman’s tomorrow morning,
about 10.00?”
    “Fine, I look
forward to it. Come up with some ideas.”
    Sally and Linda
were, to the regular dismay of the staff, best friends at Bexhill.
They had what their own friends would have called an ‘irrepressible
sense of humour’, which translated to the school authorities as
‘they can’t keep out of trouble’. The sad fact was that the two
girls’ seemed to attract tribulations like honey attracts bees and
their pranks at school regularly landed them in the headmaster’s or
deputy head’s office, usually with painful results - not that such
minor inconveniences seemed to deter them for long from dreaming up
another escapade. And in truth, the exasperated teachers secretly
found the two girls antics quite funny and they were glad to have
them in the school. That didn’t, however, mean that they extended a
moratorium to Sally and Linda when a good thrashing was
merited.
    Sally lived in
town, but Linda’s home was some ten miles outside, in the
countryside. Fortunately, her village was served by a good bus
route and so it was quite easy for them to meet in town. Thus, the
following morning they greeted each other happily in the department
store’s small café. They each bought coffee and a Danish pastry and
took them to a corner table where they could talk without being
overheard.
    “So what have
you been up to?” Linda asked.
    “Oh, the usual
stuff: a couple of rather dull parties. What’s wrong with all the
boys? They’re so uninspiring - the only thing they’re interested in
is sport.”
    “And sex.”
    “Well, they’re
not getting any of that from me until they fix their spots and stop
talking about football. How are you doing?”
    “I’ve been out
a few times with a new guy. He’s OK, actually.”
    “Oh? Why
haven’t you mentioned him before? What’s he like? Does he try to
grope you in the cinema?”
    Linda flicked a
piece of pastry at her friend. “My relationship with Peter has
nothing to do with you, nosey! If you weren’t such a wallflower,
I’d introduce you.”
    “You’d better
not. If I fancy him, I’ll let him know that I don’t wear any
knickers.”
    “Don’t you?
You’re lying - I bet you do!”
    “I’ll just
float the idea and let him find out for himself.”
    “Well in that
case, you’re not going to meet him. You can make do with your own
friends, zits and all.”
    The chatted
happily until their coffees were finished.
    “What shall we
do now? Shall we look around? I want one of those new
‘fit-and-flare’ frocks,” said Sally.
    They browsed
happily for an hour. Suddenly, Sally said “Look! That’s the one,
just perfect.” It was a floral A-line shirtdress, with a white
belt. She swept it off the rail.
    “Where’s the
changing room?”
    “Over there -
look.”
    “OK, you wait
outside and then tell me your opinion.”
    Sally
disappeared into the cubicle and Linda could hear here slipping off
her jeans and pulling on the dress. She opened the door and
flounced out.
    “Well, what do
you think?” She twirled so that the full skirt rose and revealed
her rather shapely legs.
    “Faster,” said
Linda. “I want to check whether you’re really wearing