The Games War at Malory Towers
Samantha Barrett stretched out luxuriantly in bed. It was pure bliss to know that she had no need to get up. There was no assembly to go to, no classes – not even any lacrosse training. For the next three or so weeks she was free to do more or less whatever she wanted (provided her parents approved of course). All this and Christmas. Yes, there was no denying it, Sam Barrett was in holiday mode!
She lay there listening to the familiar morning sounds of the house. Somebody was taking a shower. Delicious smells from the kitchen promised breakfast. The slam of the front door announced the departure of her father for his office. Sam supposed that if somebody was going to the effort of cooking breakfast she should at least get out of bed to eat it. Yawning, she hauled herself to her feet and, without bothering to put on either slippers or a dressing gown, made her way downstairs.
"Morning Sam", her mother had no need to look up from her cooking for she knew instinctively the sound of every member of the family. "Bacon and eggs for breakfast today. Special treat for the first day of the holidays, you needn't expect a repeat".
"I'm honoured" replied Sam cheerfully, flopping down into her seat at the scrubbed wooden table and pulling the coffee pot towards her mug (the Barretts did not hold with dainty cups, at least not at that time of day).
"There's a letter from Malory Towers" her mother added cheerfully. "Besides your reports that is. An interesting bit of school news for us all". The all she referred to comprised not only her two daughters, for she was herself an old girl of the school as was her own mother Darrell. "But shout up for the others before you read it, somebody's still dead to the world".
Obediently Sam put aside her coffee and straggled over to the foot of the stairs where she sent up a call for her elder brother and sister to come down for breakfast. Then she went back to the table and sat down with her coffee and a letter bearing the imposing crest of Malory Towers . Before she could unfold it properly, let alone read it, a series of thumps announced the arrival of her elder brother Peter. Like her he was still clad in pyjamas and his black hair stuck up at all angles. "Must you wake us up this early on the first day of the holidays?" he demanded peevishly. "I wanted to sleep in for once".
"It won't kill you" replied his mother unsympathetically. "Besides which, unless you've turned over a new leaf, your report will doubtless contain a note from your headmaster about your inability to get out of bed on time in the mornings".
Peter grinned good naturedly. His protest had not been meant very seriously. "Haven't you read our reports yet then?"
"Not yet. I was too busy picking you up from various corners of the country, then I had three great piles of laundry to sort out. Anyway I want to wait for your father to be home so that we can look them over at the same time".
Before the subject of reports could be pursued, the last member of the family arrived in the kitchen fully showered and dressed. Pippa was two years older than Sam but two years younger than Peter and, like Sam, was in North Tower. Mrs Barrett carried dishes of bacon and eggs over to the table and set them before her children who were busily helping themselves to coffee and toast.
As she ate, Sam thought over the events of the last term. There had been all the excitement of starting a new school and making new friends. Then she'd had to get to grips with classes (and that reminded her, they would be in ability sets for some subjects next term. That could be amusing – or totally embarrassing). She'd got into the junior lacrosse team, which had been her proudest moment, but had been injured in a training session and so not played in any matches. Then there had been all the pranks and Natasha's betrayal of them all. Poor Natasha, she'd spent the last few days of term being more or less ignored by every first year in North Tower. Sam rather hoped the whole affair would be forgotten by the start of next term. Natasha was an idiot but she didn't deserve to be an outcast forever.
Sam's thoughts were interrupted by her mother waving the Malory Towers letter under her nose. Sam made a grab for it but her mother shook her head playfully and held it out of reach. "I shall read it out I think. Not fair on Pippa to have to wait otherwise".
"Not fair on me to have to listen" muttered Peter.
"True enough" said his mother with a smile "you'll just have to forgive us for talking Malory Towers occasionally. Consider it revenge for all the time you and your father spend discussing rugby during family meals".
She unfolded the letter with a dramatic flourish. "Dear parent or guardian. As you know lacrosse has long been the main winter game at Malory Towers and the school has established a strong reputation in the sport, producing a number of international players. However other schools have increasingly turned away from lacrosse to the extent that it is becoming difficult to find sufficient suitable opponents for our team. As such, we have decided that the main winter sport should be hockey. Lacrosse will continue to be played and we will also be offering football (soccer) but these sports will be primarily recreational. We hope that this variety will provide our girls with more opportunities for competitive sport and give each of them a better chance to find a sport she can enjoy participating in for the rest of her life. Hockey will be the main sport next term and all pupils who participate in games lessons should be provided with hockey sticks".
Pippa and Sam looked at each other in surprise. Sam was quite dismayed, she loved lacrosse and had hoped to claim her place in the junior team. She had never played hockey and had no idea how long it would take her to become decently good at it – if she ever did. Football sounded quite interesting but she would obviously have no time for it if she was going to play both hockey and lacrosse seriously. Pippa was more excited, although naturally athletic she didn't have the co-ordination needed to be good at lacrosse. She'd often thought that hockey would be far more her thing. "Can we go shopping for hockey stuff this morning then?" she asked excitedly.