18 running away

still jo did not stand up. she couldn’t. oh, the girls didn’t understand! it wasn’t just owning up to taking deirdre out without permission, it was all the other things that might be found out—that nine pounds for instance!

nine pounds. nine pounds. it suddenly began to loom bigger and bigger and bigger. why had she taken it? just to get her own money back, and out of bravado too—to impress deirdre. jo kept her head down for the rest of prep, but she was quite unable to do any work at all.

the storm broke in the dormy that night.

“jo! what do you mean by not owning up?” demanded june. “you go down and own up immediately. go on!”

“it wasn’t me with deirdre,” said jo, feebly.

“oh, jo! you’re worse than ever. how can you tell lies like that?” cried felicity. “go down and own up. you don’t really mean to say you’re going to have the whole form docked of its swimming for three days? you must be mad!”

“all right, i’m mad then,” said jo, feeling like a hunted animal when she saw all the angry, accusing faces turned towards her.

“you’re not fit to be at malory towers,” said susan, in a cutting voice. “i can’t think why you ever came. you’re getting worse instead of better.”

“don’t,” said jo, her eyes filling with tears.

“that’s right—cry!” said katherine. “you deserve to. now, for the last time, are you going to own up or not?”

“i wasn’t with deirdre,” repeated jo, obstinately.

“we shall send you to coventry,” said june. “we shall not speak to you, any of us, or have anything to do with you for three whole weeks. see? that’s the kind of punishment that is kept specially for people who behave like you, josephine jones—people who let others be punished for what they have done themselves, and then are too cowardly to stop it. we shan’t speak to you for three weeks!”

“but—it’s my birthday soon—and i’ve got a feast for everyone!” cried jo, wildly.

“you’ll be the only one at your feast,” said june, grimly. “unless you like to ask that drip of a deirdre. now it’s understood, isn’t it, everyone? from this moment jo is in coventry!”

jo hadn’t heard of being sent to coventry before. it was new to her. it meant that not a single person spoke to her, answered her, or even looked at her. she might not have been there for all the notice they took of her that night. jo cried in bed. why hadn’t she given up that five pounds to matron as soon as she had had it from her aunt? that was when all the trouble had begun.

she waited till the others were asleep and then went to find deirdre. the two crept together into the corridor to whisper. “deirdre—i can’t stand it,” wept jo. “i shall run away. i want to go home. everyone’s so unkind to me here. except you.”

“i shouldn’t have come shopping with you,” whispered deirdre. “i’m the cause of all the trouble.”

“oh, deirdre—will you come with me if i run away?” asked jo, sniffing. “i’d be afraid to go alone. please, please say you’ll come with me.”

deirdre hesitated. the idea of running away scared her—but she was very weak and easily led. jo was much the stronger of the two and jo had been very generous to her.

“all right. i’ll come too,” she said, and immediately jo cheered up. they began to plan.

“i tell you what we’ll do,” said jo. “we’ll take all that food of ours to that shack we passed on a long country walk we went last term—do you remember? the first- and second-formers went together and we all played in the shack. it was in a very lonely place. we’ll take the food there, and we can stay there a day or two before trying to find the way home.”

this seemed rather a delightful adventure to deirdre. she agreed at once. “we’d better get up early tomorrow,” she said, “and go and take the stuff to and fro. it will take us two journeys at least, and it’s quite a long way to that shack.”

jo felt quite cheerful now. what would the second-formers feel like when they knew that sending her to coventry had made her run away? jo didn’t think of the worry she would cause the school and her parents by disappearing suddenly. she was completely selfish, and soon began to view the whole thing in the guise of a wonderful escapade.

somehow or other she managed to wake the next morning very early. she dressed and awoke deirdre, whose bed was fortunately beside the door in her dormy. the two set off quietly. they came at last to the hollow where they had hidden their goods, and then began the long trek to and fro to the shack. it took them longer than they imagined. the shack was a good place to hide in. it was a long long way from any road, and only a bridle path led anywhere near it. no one, except for a few hikers, usually came near it.

“there,” said jo, pleased, putting down the last tin of peaches. “we must remember to bring a tin-opener. we’ve really got enough food to last for weeks, deirdre.”

“we ought to get back quickly,” said deirdre, looking at her watch. “we’ll be awfully late for breakfast and whatever we do we mustn’t be seen coming in together again.”

“nobody’s spotted us at all so far,” said jo. “we’re lucky.”

it was true that nobody had recognized them. but somebody had seen them, far away in the distance! bill, on her horse thunder, and clarissa, on merrylegs, were out for one of their early morning rides, and had followed a bridle path not far distant from the shack. bill’s sharp eyes caught sight of two figures going into the shack.

“funny!” she said. “that looks like two malory towers girls—same uniform. perhaps it’s two out for an early morning walk.”

“probably,” said clarissa, and thought no more about it. they galloped on, and had a wonderful ride, getting back just before jo and deirdre—who were careful to slip in at different gates.

they had planned to run away that night, when all the others were asleep in bed. the second-formers were surprised at jo’s behaviour that day. they had expected her to be miserable and subdued, because being ignored completely was a very hard punishment—but instead jo was bright-eyed and cheerful, seeming not to care in the least about being sent to coventry.

“she’s a thick-skinned little beast,” said june to felicity. june was doing a double dose of ignoring. she was not only ignoring jo, she was ignoring amanda! it so happened that they met quite a number of times during those few days and june took great delight in turning her back on amanda in a very marked manner.

that night, when the girls in the second-form dormy were fast asleep, jo got up and dressed very quietly. she took the rug off her bed, and then stole into deirdre’s dormy. deirdre was awake, half afraid now that the time had come. for two pins she would have given up the idea entirely!

but jo had no idea of giving it up or of allowing deirdre to either! it wasn’t long before both of them were stealing down the moonlit corridor, each with their rug over their arm. it was easy to open the garden door and go out into the grounds.

both stealing down the moonlit corridor

“i’m glad it’s moonlight,” said deirdre, with a half-scared laugh. “i wouldn’t like to go on a dark night. oh, jo—you’re sure it’s all right? you’re sure your people won’t mind my turning up with you?”

“oh no. they’ll welcome you as my friend,” said jo. “and they’ll laugh at our adventure, i know they will. they’ll think it’s wonderful!”

they got to the shack at last. all their food was still there. they spread the rugs on the floor and lay down to sleep. it was quite warm, but for some time neither of them could sleep. in the end jo broke open a packet of biscuits and they munched steadily. deirdre fell asleep first, and then jo found her eyes closing.

what would the girls think tomorrow? they’d be sorry they’d driven her away! thought jo. miss parker would be sorry for the nasty things she had said. so would mam’zelle. so would . . . but jo was now fast asleep, and never even heard a little hedgehog scuttling across the floor of the shack.

nobody took any notice of the girls’ empty beds in the morning. it was quite usual for someone to get up early for a walk or a swim. the first- and second-formers clattered down to breakfast, chattering as usual.

but before long, the news went round the school. “jo’s gone! deirdre’s gone! nobody knows where they are. they’ve hunted everywhere for them!”

the second-formers couldn’t help feeling rather guilty. had their punishment sent jo off? no—she had so very very often said she would run away! all the same—perhaps she had run away because she couldn’t stand being sent to coventry—and taken weak little deirdre with her. what would happen? where on earth had they gone to?

the police were told. miss grayling rang up mr. jones and informed him that his daughter was missing, but they hoped to find her, and also a girl she had taken with her, at any moment. they couldn’t have gone far.

miss grayling was amazed at mr. jones’s reception of her news. she had expected him to be upset and worried, perhaps to reproach the school for not taking more care of jo. but down the telephone came a bellow of laughter.

“ha, ha, ha! if that isn’t exactly like our jo! she’s just like me, you know. the times i played truant from school! don’t you worry about our jo, miss grayling. she knows how to look after herself all right. maybe she’s on her way home. i’ll telephone you if she arrives.”

“mr. jones—the police have been informed,” said miss grayling, disgusted at the way jo’s father had taken her news. “i will try to keep it out of the papers as long as i can, of course.”

“oh, don’t you bother about that,” said the surprising mr. jones. “i’d like to see our jo hitting the headlines in a spot of adventure. great girl, isn’t she?”

he was surprised to hear the click of the receiver being put down firmly at miss grayling’s end. “what’s the matter with her?” he wondered. “cutting me off like that. hey, ma—where are you? what do you think our jo’s done?”

a very disturbing piece of news came to miss grayling that morning. it came from the police sergeant who had been told of the missing girls. after miss grayling had spoken about them and given their descriptions, the sergeant cleared his throat and spoke rather awkwardly.

“er—about that other matter you reported a short while ago, miss grayling,” he said. “the notes that were stolen from your matron’s safe. you remember matron knew the numbers printed on the notes—they were in a sequence. well, we’ve traced them.”

“oh,” said miss grayling. “do you know who the thief is, then?”

“well, mam, yes, in a way we do,” said the sergeant. “those notes were given in at two shops in the town, by a malory towers girl. she came in with another girl and bought a whole lot of food—tins and tins of it.”

miss grayling’s heart sank. she covered her eyes. not a malory towers girl! could there possibly be a thief like that among the girls?

“thank you, sergeant,” she said at last. “i will make enquiries as to which girls they were. good morning.”