House Rules – part one
By
Clarissa
One of the things of which Miss Svenson, headmistress of Camsford House, was most proud was not the school’s reputation for academic excellence or high disciplinary standards – both cherished as they were – but for something more intangible; what she liked to call esprit de corps: a spirit of team work and fair play amongst the girls, a spirit which, for Miss Svenson, was exemplified by the annual competition for the House Cup.
Held over a weekend during the Winter Term, the four houses at Camsford – Drake, Hawkins, Raleigh and Grenville – would challenge each other for the honour of the Cup across six events, culminating in a cross-country ‘hare and hounds’, held on the Sunday. For this, the two leading heads of house (or, more frequently, their nominees) would act as hares, setting off in good time ahead of their pursuers. This year, Miss Svenson had not been surprised to learn that Miranda Spears, the long-legged fifth-former, had been selected as the hare for Drake.
So, here she was, seeing off the hares into the dull light of a November afternoon. Set over the extensive grounds of Camsford, the winner should come home within an hour and a half. All should be well and truly home within two.
As the hares ran off to the cheers of supporters, Miss Svenson chatted warmly to staff and prefects, and awaited the return of the victors. At ten to three, Sara Hodge, wearing the distinctive green sash of Grenville, came into view and tore back over the line, followed by the first of the red-sashed Hawkins hounds. A couple more hounds followed then, at about three o’clock, Miranda Spears, the Drake hare, came into view. Although not the winner, she had seemingly evaded the hounds, and was greeted by whoops of delight from the Drake contingent. By half past three, everyone had been accounted for and everyone had retired to the dining hall for tea.
Miss Svenson went round the room congratulating Greville’s head of house, and her hound, on winning the Cup, before seeking out Drake. Strangely, she couldn’t seem to find Miranda Spears, but she would catch up with her later no doubt.
By five o’clock, Miss Svenson had returned to her study to pick up messages. She read through the list left by her secretary, noting only one unexpected number: that of Mrs Sweeting at the village shop in Camston. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
Her call was answered immediately.
‘Is that Miss Svenson?’ came the voice. ‘I’m so glad you’ve rung. I don’t want to be a busy-body or anything, or tell tales after school, but I thought I should let you know I think I saw one of your girls in the coffee shop here in the village; I wouldn’t have noticed her – she looked so grown up – except she was wearing some kind of a sash, and I know it’s the House Cup today.’
‘Could you tell me the colour of the sash?’ asked Miss Svenson. Now, no doubt, she would hear it was the red or blue of one of the pursuing hounds – gone disastrously off track.
‘Yes, it was orange.’
‘Are you sure,’ continued Miss Svenson, ‘not red?’
‘No, orange, I’m sure. Does it make a difference?’
‘Yes it does,’ continued Miss Svenson, ‘thank you very much for letting me know.’
She replaced the receiver and let her head rest momentarily in her hands: there was only one pupil entitled to wear orange that day, and that was the representative for Drake house – it’s hound, Miranda Spears.