Chapter 7 - The Red Coat Danced
13th March, Darjeeling's apartment, time 12:28
Sarah lay in her usual spot; a Sarah-shaped mould in the sofa with her bad leg resting on a pillow on the coffee table. One hand was spinning a pen around her fingers, the other covering her forehead as she tried to think of the best way to write a report of what went wrong in the match. Unfortunately, all the arrows were pointing towards her plan. Apart from the injury to Miho, that is, which was very much not in the plan at all. She had heard on the grapevine that Miho was okay, aside from numerous cuts, bumps and bruises, but Sarah really did feel empathy for the girl.
Suddenly a rather erratic knocking of the door came at the door.
With no maid Darjeeling around, Sarah gathered up her crutches and stood up. She bit her lip as the blood returned to her plastered leg which had been resting raised up on the coffee table, but nonetheless began to hop towards the door.
The manic knocking continued.
"I'm coming Rosehip!" Sarah shouted, as there could be no other person in the whole of St. Gloriana that would hammer on a door in such a fashion.
"Hurry Miss English, hurry!" came Rosehip's voice.
Sarah quickened her crutching and yanked the door open.
"Whatever is the matter!?" she quizzed Rosehip.
The pink-haired girl was literally dancing from one foot to the other with her words tumbling over each other as she spoke.
"I'm here! I'm here I'm here Miss English!"
"I can see that, thank you Rosehip," Sarah said, unimpressed with this revelation. "Why are you here!?"
"Lady Orange Pekoe has called an emergency meeting of the senior members regarding what happened in the Ooarai match. She's just received a letter from the JSF," Rosehip blurted out. "I'm here to collect you and to take you there now!"
"Oh, fine…" Sarah said, a bit shocked by the suddenness but not really surprised. "Do I need to be in uniform or anything…?"
"No, just come now, now!" Rosehip said, capering around like a mad puppy. "Lady Orange Pekoe said at once!"
Sarah sighed. "I will, but I'm not very fast on these things…" she said, indicating her crutches.
"You don't need them; I've got this!" Rosehip said, pointing to one side. For the first time, Sarah noticed that there was a metal-framed pushable wheelchair next to Rosehip.
"Oh well, if you…" Sarah began.
"Yes yes!" Rosehip answered to whatever question Sarah was about to ask. "Just sit down, we need to go now, now!"
Rolling her eyes, Sarah flopped down into the seat of the waiting wheelchair, holding her crutches alongside her. Her plastered leg jutted out in front of her like a tank's main gun. She was about to open her mouth to speak again, but before she could Rosehip propelled the chair and breakneck speed towards the lift doors. They had to wait a few moments for the lift to descend to their floor; moments which were far too long for Rosehip who impatiently ran round and round the wheelchair as they waited. The lift arrived with a 'ping' and Sarah was rammed inside it as soon as the doors had opened wide enough to admit the wheelchair.
Once on the ground floor, they were off again with Rosehip literally running as she pushed Sarah in front of her. Two other residents of the dormitory block had to dive out of the way as Sarah and Rosehip came storming past.
"Rosehip! Slow down!" Sarah wailed from her precarious seat. Rosehip, however, seemed determined to deliver Sarah to the team meeting faster than the speed of sound and did not let up.
"Lady Orange Pekoe said hurry!" Rosehip said, defending her reckless speed.
"Rosehip! Watch out!" Sarah yelled, but it was too late. The wheels of the chair hit a kerbstone and the whole thing, with Sarah in it, overbalanced, throwing her out onto the pavement. She instinctively put out her arms to save herself and was rewarded with an unpleasant 'crack' from her right arm.
13th March, Darjeeling's Apartment, time 22:30
Very grumpy and feeling sorry for herself again, Sarah was sitting on Darjeeling's sofa, flicking through programmes on TV and not wanting to watch any of them. She had a brand new addition, namely a second plaster cast, this time from her upper right arm down to her knuckles with her arm held at ninety degrees.
The hours that had followed after her accident with Rosehip and the wheelchair had not been pleasant. Rosehip had nearly gone into hysterics following the crash. She had offered to race Sarah to the hospital herself, using the same wheelchair, but as this kind of behaviour had been the cause of the accident in the first place Sarah had declined and insisted that Rosehip call an ambulance (even though Rosehip's method would probably have got them to the hospital faster). At the hospital, Sarah had been x-rayed and diagnosed with a broken arm, which had needed to be set and placed in a plaster cast. The hospital staff, aware of Sarah's unusual behaviour from before, had given her a dose of her 'relaxant' drugs, which Rosehip found a little creepy. Even though Sarah was in a world of her own, Rosehip had turned into being hugely apologetic and also hugely annoying until Darjeeling had arrived to take care of Sarah and sent Rosehip away like a scolded dog.
The hospital didn't think Sarah was injured enough to keep in overnight so she had been discharged into Darjeeling's care, who seemed far too pleased to have another reason to nurse Sarah.
The only good thing that came out of the day was that Sarah now had a revised cast on her leg. Obviously, using a pair of crutches was going to be impossible with one arm in plaster too, but the doctor had told Darjeeling that Sarah's leg was healing well enough for her to start taking some weight on it. Sarah's old cast with the bend at the knee had been removed and a new one applied which was a little straighter. It still went all the way up her leg, which was annoying, but it did have a solid grey rubber heel under it so Sarah could begin to hobble about when she felt able to.
Sarah and Darjeeling had arrived back at Darjeeling's apartment to find Rosehip curled up asleep on the doormat. She had woken when they arrived and poured out a torrent of apologies and offers of recompense. She was at the point of promising to sleep at the foot of Sarah's bed and be her live-in slave when Sarah was forced to forgive her just to get rid of her.
Now Sarah and Darjeeling were in the living room, with Darjeeling doing a bit more revision for her exams before bed. Sarah flicked the TV off and pushed the remote away from her in disgust.
"Is something wrong?" Darjeeling asked.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I've broken my arm – of course something's wrong!" she said, a trifle snappy with her girlfriend.
"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey," Darjeeling replied.
Sarah sighed inwardly. She knew she wasn't going to get much sympathy tonight; Darjeeling was in one of those moods.
"And you really can't blame Rosehip for what happened," Darjeeling added.
Sarah swallowed some of her wounded pride and sighed again. "I know…" she said, prepared to genuinely forgive her friend. "I suppose it was bound to happen…"
Sarah suddenly stiffened. Fearing she was in pain, Darjeeling asked if she was alright.
"It was bound to happen!" Sarah repeated. "It was bound to happen!"
"What are you talking about?" Darjeeling asked.
"Whoever sent Rosehip to pick me up with a wheelchair knew that she'd do it far too fast. They knew she'd crash and injure me!" Sarah said emphatically.
"Oh, come on!" Darjeeling reasoned. "No one could know for certain that would happen…"
"It was a certainty – it did happen!" Sarah illogically reasoned.
"But it was Orange Pekoe who called the meeting…?" Darjeeling interjected.
"Hmm…. Orange Pekoe…" Sarah lapsed into brooding silence.
"Anyway…" Darjeeling said, keen to change the subject from Sarah's conspiracy theories. "It's time for bed." She put down her pen and yawned.
Sarah nodded in agreement. "Can you help me put my pyjamas on?" she asked sheepishly.
Darjeeling slid over with a glint in her eye. "I was hoping we might not need pyjamas tonight," she said with a mischievous grin.
"Darjy… what?! Seriously?!" Sarah protested, shocked that her girlfriend was thinking thoughts like that. "I broke my arm today… I…"
"Trust me – I'll be gentle!" Darjeeling said, not taking no for an answer.
14th March, Darjeeling's Apartment, time 15:30
The very mundane day of work, and constant pain from her leg, and now from her casted arm was well, continued. Sarah was struggling, without Darjeeling's help, to sort out her leg so it was placed on a footrest as she sat on the sofa in the living room. Sarah was right handed, and with that arm now immobilised even the simplest of tasks became difficult and awkward. Not to mention that her arm was aching a bit more than it should have been; she had to admit that even the limited energetic manoeuvres that she had been making during the night had been too much for her. Anyone one in their right mind would have said 'no, not tonight' and Sarah was wondering why she didn't. She supposed that was what happened when one was in love. The knee of her bad leg was especially sore and throbbing after her antics. She had been in the curious position of having her plastered leg pointing straight up in the air at one point, when her tired muscles had been unable to support the weight any longer and it had slipped to crash against the bedroom wall with a jarring shock.
She was looking at her laptop which was opened on the coffee table with intelligence data of the next team that St. Gloriana would face displayed on the screen. That school was Anzio. Their predicted lineup, from what Rukuriri's intelligence was saying, was as expected and Sarah was working on plans to counter whatever was foreseeably thrown at them. Her concentration was, however, waning, and it was a blessed relief when the phone rang. It was a number she hadn't seen before as she picked up the phone rather hesitantly.
"Hello, I'd like to speak to Sarah Alexander please," a rather calm and relaxed English voice said.
"Yes? That's me." Sarah answered back with the same calm but with a rather sceptical tone.
"Yes, so I'm Alison Bowes, from the Cotton and Miller Solicitors," the voice said.
"Sorry, but I don't quite understand why you are calling me?" Sarah asked, wondering if this was some sort of hoax.
"We are the solicitors dealing with the estate of the late James Alexander. I need to talk to you about James's will, to be exact," Alison explained. Sarah's ears pricked up at this rather startling revelation.
"But why has it taken so long? Has my father been told this?"
"Firstly the reason why it has been delayed is because of London United's HR department having problems producing his will, they only found a copy of one yesterday in his old office inside one of his family pictures. Which has been verified to be his and not a forgery. And the second answer to your question is that my colleague next to me is contacting your father as we speak..." she passed for a second as a couple of murmurs could be heard in the background. "... it looks like your father understands the terms of the will insofar as it applies to him. So can I read out the segments of the will in relation to yourself?" the solicitor asked.
"Yes... sure," Sarah answered back rather nervously. It was great to know something was found as all of James's things had been left untouched now for ages, but somehow she didn't feel it was right that she was getting something.
"James's will states: To my dear sister, I leave a sum of ..." Sarah gasped she couldn't believe it one that he had that amount of money and two that he actually called her 'his dear sister.' "...on the condition that it is for the purchase of her own tank for Tankery..."
"James you bastard, you just couldn't let me have some money to buy a house or something could you," she muttered under her breath.
"...Other belongings relating to Tankery such as uniforms and other Tankery memorabilia is to be hers. That is all," the women stated. "The money will be transferred into your account in the next couple of days, however as this is a rather strange request you will have to provide us a receipt of purchase of this vehicle, otherwise your part of the Will will be classed as void. Do you agree to these terms?"
"Y..yes." Sarah said rather emotionally now as everything seemed to flip on its head.
"Sarah, thank you for your time and I wish you good luck."
"Thank you, um have a good day," Sarah mumbled.
"You too. Goodbye." The line died and the low drone of the phone line filled her ears as she held her ears against the phone for a moment, then put it down to await the inevitable call from her father. As she predicted, it shortly followed and she desperately struggled with her hampered arm to swiped the phone to answer the call in time.
"Well, a new tank then. Your very own ..." her father said by way of introduction, sounding very cheerful.
"But what was in the will for you?" Sarah asked, interrupting him.
"Basically anything that isn't yours is mine. So his flat, car etc." he replied.
"Was there any conditions on yours?" she asked.
"No there wasn't. I think he really wanted you to do your best in Tankery, and having your very own tank would always be a good thing. Think about it you wouldn't be cut up in traffic would you ever again if you have a tank. Speaking off, what one are you going to get?"
"I don't really know... but something British as otherwise, St Gloriana would kick me out," she said with a mirthless laugh.
"Well, that's true..." her father went on. At this moment Darjeeling walked into the living room with a tray with two steaming teacups and some shortbread biscuits in the middle on a small plate. "... you know what suits you so get something you want don't let others stop you," he advised.
"Well, I would like a Panther but St Gloriana doesn't really have spares for a Panther. So it would have to be something British," she repeated as Darjeeling placed the tray on the table. Darjeeling had only heard a small snippet of the conversation but she knew what was up, as a small childish but yet devilish smile grew till it wrapped around her face.
"Ok Sarah you have the final say good luck and hunting, I mean shopping," her father finished.
"Love you, dad," Sarah said in goodbye.
"You too." They blew kisses to each other and ended the call.
Sarah looked over to Darjeeling's beaming face. "What?!"
"Tank shopping?"
"Well, kind off..."
16th March, The Tea Garden Lecture Hall, 11:00
Texting with her left hand was something Sarah was having to get used to. She was trying to reply to a text from Orange Pekoe.
"I need 2 speak 2 u about something. I hope ur OK? :-)" it read.
"Sure. It looks like I won't be in a tank for a while" Sarah typed. "But I can still make plans and be the team strategist."
"OK sounds good 2 me! :-)" Orange Pekoe replied.
And so, an hour later, she was getting ready to struggle over to the Tea Garden as Orange Pekoe had called a full team meeting, with the seniors to meet prior to that. Sarah's red tank jacket was tight and awkward to put on over her plastered arm, but Darjeeling had assured Sarah that she could attend the meeting in her ordinary school uniform, as she clearly had exceptional circumstances.
Wearing school uniform was also slightly embarrassing, as the standard St. Gloriana sheer black tights, which were part of the uniform, were an issue with her entire left leg in bulky plaster. Darjeeling had solved this issue for Sarah by lending her some stockings, enabling Sarah to wear a single one on her right leg. The St. Gloriana school skirt was notoriously short, however, and Sarah was conscious that she was occasionally showing a strip of bare upper thigh between her stocking top and her skirt when she moved or the wind caught it.
There was, however, no real alternative. In order to still feel part of the Sensha-do team, Sarah had her trusty black tanker's beret on her head. She was planning to walk (as best she could) into the school grounds as she felt she needed to get confident and proficient with moving around while resembling an Egyptian mummy. Nonetheless, this would be the first time that she had attempted anything more than hobbling around Darjeeling's apartment. She had one of her crutches tucked under her good arm for support and balance.
"Bye!" she called to Darjeeling as she opened the door.
"Bye, my little teacup! Good luck and take care!" Darjeeling called from within the apartment.
After taking the lift to the ground floor (stairs were too much of an advanced lesson) Sarah realised that her journey time was going to be about three times as long as it normally would be. Walking any distance with a heavy leg and unable to bend that knee or ankle was no picnic, and so she was actually about five minutes late when she hobbled into the meeting room that was adjacent to the large lecture theatre where the meeting was to be held
Sarah had been expecting to have to make her apologies for her tardiness to the assembled seniors, but as she entered she saw that Orange Pekoe was the only living soul in the room.
As she looked about her quizzically, Orange Pekoe seemed to read her mind. "The entire team will be here later on," Orange Pekoe said offering Sarah a seat near the head of the table.
Perplexed, Sarah limped down the length of the room to the seat. 'She could have chosen one nearer the door!' she silently complained in her mind. "I thought all the seniors were meeting beforehand?" Sarah asked as her snail's pace journey came to an end and she slid into the seat. "I briefed them yesterday," Orange Pekoe explained. "In the meeting that you were, um, unable to attend. So, Miss English Breakfast; how's the arm?" Orange Pekoe asked, obviously trying to introduce some pleasantries.
"Well, I don't want to sound repetitive, but it's broken. It hurts. Like my leg, and knee, and ankle..." Sarah complained.
"Sorry to hear," Orange Pekoe said without sounding all that sorry. Not wanting to hear Sarah's life story, she got to her main talking point.
"Well, sadly I have some bad news. Firstly our match against Ooarai. The JSF, after deliberating, have decided on a punishment for breaking the rules. They have chosen to deduct all over our points for that match..." Sarah was about to say something in the lines of 'What! Why!' But Orange Pekoe must have anticipated this by raising her palm up to Sarah's face. "...For breaking rule 5 part 4. Attacking a vehicle which has been declared inoperable. It's obvious from all the replays that one of our tanks fired on an immobilised tank, and after the match was over too boot. The shot came from my Churchill, my gunner thought I had told her to fire when I was out of the tank. She absolutely swears she was following my instruction, but she's a young girl, so I would say the adrenaline rush and lack of experience became too much for her and was the root of the problem. So we were first; now with one swoop we are joint third with BC Freedom, and with three other teams sharing joint second place. Only Anzio and Chi-Ha-Tan are behind us," Orange Pekoe explained the devastating news.
"I see," Sarah said. She really felt upset by this; all of her hard work to now could for nothing. It was a real kick in the teeth.
"But there is also more bad news. The governors of the school disapproved of our tactics and have told me not to use them again," Orange Pekoe said with a shrug.
This was now the final nail in the coffin for Sarah. "Didn't they watch the match?! We beat Ooarai. The Ooarai," she expounded.
"Thank you, Miss English," Orange retorted like a parent to their child when they want them to stop speaking. Sarah knew now wasn't the time to make noises anymore. "Such tactics do not fit with the St. Gloriana style of Sensha-do and they are quite firm on this. It's no use arguing," Orange Pekoe said calmly.
A light knock from the main door made them both turn. The door opened a small amount, and Rukuriri's head popped around it. "Everybody is here Miss Orange Pekoe," she said.
"Good, we are ready to join you," Orange said back, raising to her feet.
Rukuriri gave a light nod, opening the door to its fullest extent. Sarah could see the last few members of the team filing into the adjacent lecture hall, walking in quietly and respectfully.
Orange Pekoe let Sarah go ahead of her, but had already overtaken her before Sarah got out of the meeting room door. Walking as normally as she could manage, Sarah could still feel all eyes on her as she entered the hall and slowly trudged down the central aisle to take her seat in the front row. Sarah was painfully aware that everyone else was wearing their red tank jackets and she was the only one in blue school uniform. She flopped down in her seat beside Rukuriri with her embarrassing plastered leg jutting out in front of her. Soon Orange Pekoe called the meeting to order.
It was an awkward meeting. Orange Pekoe talked about the safety breach that had caused injury to Miho during the last match, and how all crews would be doing extra safety practice. Orange Pekoe also displayed a chart of the current leader board for the Spring Tournament, pointing out how St. Gloriana had been docked all the points they had achieved for the Ooarai match due to the breach of the safety rules. There were murmurs and expressions of annoyance at St. Gloriana's low position within the league.
Orange Pekoe then moved on to talk about Sarah herself.
"One of our vice-commanders, English Breakfast, had managed to have another accident…" Orange Pekoe announced. Sarah didn't think this terminology was entirely fair; 'managed to have another accident' made it sound as if it was Sarah's own fault!
Rosehip suddenly yelled out from where she was sitting. "What happened to Miss English is entirely my fault and I'm sorry and…"
"Rosehip be quiet!" Orange Pekoe ordered from the front of the lecture hall. Orange Pekoe continued speaking about Sarah. "Unfortunately she won't be able to join us in matches for a considerable while, but we have agreed that she will stay on with the team in an advisory capacity and assist with planning and strategy."
Sarah choked down a lump in her throat. 'An advisory capacity'?! 'Assist with planning and strategy'?! This hadn't been how she'd understood what Orange Pekoe had communicated to her. She had thought she was going to be the Chief Strategist!
Sarah was too lost in her own thoughts to pay much attention to the rest of the meeting until Orange Pekoe brought things to a conclusion by asking "Does anyone have any other business to discuss?"
Normally the answer to this was 'no', but Sarah suddenly spoke up. She had planned to keep her plans to buy her own tank a secret, at least until she had discussed it with the main members of the team, but being sidelined by Orange Pekoe in front of everyone had wounded her pride and she felt she wanted some attention.
"I'm buying a tank," she said out loud. There was a murmur of voices as everyone looked at her. Orange Pekoe raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"So, um… yeah. I'm buying a tank," Sarah said muttering to herself feeling a little bit sheepish now and not sure where she was going with that line now that she's said it.
"A disabled access tank," she thought she heard someone say behind her. She turned sharply in her seat to see who it might have been, but the sudden movement caused pain to shoot up from her broken arm and she yelped.
"That… will be very exciting, for all of us, I'm sure," Orange Pekoe said. "However, now I think we could all do with a break," she finished. Rukurui covered her mouth to hide a sudden fit of laughter. Orange Pekoe looked confused for a moment until she realised she had inadvertently made a pun about Sarah's condition. Sarah turned bright red and Orange Pekoe raised an apologetic eyebrow to her.
The girls all stood and walked out as they chatted amongst themselves. Sarah stayed sitting just to gather her thoughts and also not to hold up anyone behind her with the glacial pace speed.
16th March, The Club Room, 16:00
It was customary after these team meetings for everyone to retire to the student common room, or 'The Club Room' as it was known, to socialise and drink tea. Sarah found she had quite a group around her, all keen to know what tank she would be buying and enthusiastically offering their own unwanted advice. No one seemed thoughtful enough to get her a chair, however, and her left leg was starting to throb again. She also didn't have any tea; the way her plaster cast held her right arm and hand made it awkward for her to hold the saucer, and it was unthinkable that a St. Gloriana student would have a cup of tea without a saucer. Sarah was quite glad when a first-year student told her that Orange Pekoe wanted to see her in the commander's office.
The parquet flooring was loud under the solid heel of her leg cast as she clumped her way over to the office door. She opened it to find that both Orange Pekoe and Rukuriri were in there.
"Ah, English Breakfast," Orange Pekoe said with a smile.
"No one else sounds like that when they walk," Rukuriri sniped in a jokey sort of way. Sarah really didn't know what she'd done is made her be in Rukuriri's bad books.
"We've been having a think about the team structure," Orange Pekoe began. We're facing Anzio next, and while we've yet to decide on an exact strategy, it's likely that they will employ a lot of fast tankettes such as CV33s. We're almost certainly going to use the Cromwell, and we both feel that Green Gunpowder should be in command of it, with your crew."
"But…" Sarah protested, although not sure exactly how to argue against this.
"You clearly won't be fit enough for this next match and the Cromwell crew are working really well with Green Gunpowder in training and in the match against Chi-ha-tan and especially in the match against Ooarai," Rukuriri said.
"They work well with me too!" Sarah protested.
"I'm sure they do" Orange Pekoe soothed. "But all crews are interchangeable at St. Gloriana; you know that. Also, when you buy this tank of your own, you may very well have different crew requirements to those of the Cromwell." Grudgingly, Sarah had to acknowledge that this was true.
"There is also the question of battlefield command," Rukuriri said as a reminder to Orange Pekoe.
"Ah yes," Orange Pekoe said. She saw Sarah's raised eyebrow and explained. "There needs to be a clear command structure during matches; especially after what happened in the last match," she said. "The team needs to know who the vice-commanders are, and as you can't take part in matches for a while I need to think about your replacement."
"Replacement?!" Sarah squeaked.
"Not a replacement, I mean… stand-in. While you are off," Orange Pekoe said, sounding like she was backtracking.
"Rosehip is next in terms of a junior command position, and yet…" Rukuriri said.
"Yes…" Orange Pekoe said slowly. "I am not convinced she is right to take over as a vice-commander. She's good at what she does, but this would probably be too much for her. English? Do you have any thoughts on the matter?" Orange Pekoe suddenly shot at Sarah.
"Um… Nilgiri?" Sarah said, caught off guard.
"Hmm… she lacks the presence of a commander…" Orange Pekoe mused. "I will have to think about this. Anyway, don't let us keep you English. I suspect you have some tank catalogues you want to browse? I would personally suggest a Crusader!" she said, trying to sound friendly.
"Um… yes… OK… I'll have a think," Sarah said, awkwardly withdrawing from the room as Orange Pekoe and Rukuriri turned their attention to some papers on the commander's desk.
The Spring League Tournament: League table after Round 2
1st Kuromorimine Girls' Academy - 8
Joint 2nd Ooarai Girls' Academy - 7
Joint 2nd Pravda Girls' High School - 7
Joint 2nd Saunders University High School - 7
Joint 3rd BC Freedom High School - 5
Joint 3rd St. Gloriana Girls' College - 5
7th Anzio Girls' High School - 2
8th Chi-Ha-Tan Academy - 0
A/N: Thanks for the review hakimsohit51 but sadly Miho escapes the clutches of death this time. Hopefully, you're looking forward to more chapters and more should be out. (Not giving a time frame as I and Sharky have many many things to do and trust us you'll see why) Again if you haven't check out Sharkys images they are great!