Sinking the Ship and other stories

SINKING THE SHIP

and other stories

‘Rebecca goes to boarding school, she’s fifteen years old, she’s got her GCSEs this year and she’s bored…’

But that was two years ago. Now she’s seventeen, in the upper-sixth, her A levels are looming and for reasons which will become clear she just has to get good grades.

So how can she find time for yet more crazy adventures with all the familiar friends from books one and two?

Against all the odds, she manages to enjoy another fun-packed year, up to and even beyond the day when she has to leave school for the very last time.

This is the third book in the Rebecca series.

Now read on…

By the same author

Over the Top and other stories

(Rebecca Series book 1)

Painting the Tank and other stories

(Rebecca Series book 2)

Sinking the Ship and other stories

(Rebecca Series book 3)

Taking the Plunge and other stories

(Rebecca Series book 4)

8 is Three Twos—Complicated

The Text—A short school story

SINKING THE SHIP

and other stories

Stone de Rouffignac

Copyright © Stone de Rouffignac, 2002

First published in 2002 by

Paperweight Press

Springfield House, 5 Spring Hill Terrace, Whitby, North Yorkshire, YO21 1EG

This edition published in 2015 by Paperweight Press

The moral right of the author, writing under the name of Stone de Rouffignac, is asserted according to the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

Stone de Rouffignac is a pseudonym

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Conditions of sale:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-903477-19-9

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Last Night Stand

Don’t Drink the Water!

A Big Surprise

Sinking the Ship

Thank You!

About the Author

Extract of Taking the Plunge

Author’s Note

All these stories are fiction, and so are the characters, but each story is based on events which actually happened.

The stories are all set in the 1990s, when there were no mobile phones (you had to find a phone box) and Year 11 was called Fifth-form.

Each story is self-contained, but they make a lot more sense if they are read in the order in which they appear in the book.

Remember that this is the third book in the series.

Last Night Stand

August…

Becky

‘Everybody out!’

I struggled back to consciousness, trying to work out where I was, and as I blinked my eyes open I could see Damien’s face gazing down at me.

‘What did you say?’ I asked him.

‘Nothing. It was Tony. He wants us to push the bus to get it going. We’ve broken down—remember?’

Talk about déjà vu! We had been in exactly the same situation about a month back, and I’d woken up in just the same way, with Damien staring into my eyes. I bit my lip and stifled a sob as I remembered that this would be the last time me ’n’ Damey could go on any Venture Scout trips together, but then I reflected that I was quite lucky he was able to go on this one, so I couldn’t really grumble.

Damien had left school at the end of last term, and would be off to university in October. I’d gone on and on at Tony to let him come on this one final trip, because I wasn’t sure I could cope with a whole year at school without Damey around. Rick and Greg were off to uni. too, and even my sister Nic had been offered a place somewhere, and not too far from Rick either, so she was OK. Nic’s friend Sam from the village—I’m talking about Samantha of course, not Serbian Sam—was off to uni. as well, and it was going to be very different at school with so many of the old crowd gone. I was even thinking I might miss Luce, who had decided not to stay into the sixth-form. And, I was having to come to terms with the fact that this was to be my final year at school too.

Nic was still back home in Germany, and I suppose Greg and Rick were getting ready to go their separate ways as well, so Damey was the only one of last years’ upper-sixth crowd still present. Back at the beginning of August though, loads of people had been there…

+ + +

‘Everybody out!’

I struggled back to consciousness, trying to work out where I was, and as I blinked my eyes open I could see Damien’s face gazing down at me.

‘What did you say?’ I asked him.

‘Nothing. It was Tony. He wants us to push the bus to get it going. We’ve broken down—remember?’

‘Oh. Yeah.’

It was hot. A real midsummer heatwave, and as we slowed down for some road-works the engine stalled.

‘Tony!’

‘Why have we stopped?’

‘I thought you knew how to drive!’

‘Now look what you’ve done!’

And some other comments I won’t repeat. When we were all fifteen and sixteen he didn’t have to worry, but now most of us have passed our driving tests and we take the mickey out of him something rotten if he makes the slightest mistake. And stalling was probably the most heinous mistake possible, because the minibus just will not restart when it’s hot, so we’d pushed it behind the cones and settled down for half an hour to let it cool down. I’d gone to sleep, snuggled up against Damien, and completely forgotten where I was.

Still, we staggered out into the sunshine and pushed, and this guy had come to give us a hand.

‘Try it now!’ I called out as we stumbled along.

Tony let in the clutch, there was a satisfying roar from the engine and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Er, how far are you going?’ the good samaritan from the queue asked, looking at the cloud of black smoke belching from the exhaust.

‘Frankfurt!’ I shouted back as I climbed in. ‘And thanks for your help!’

+ + +

I could still see the look on his face as we dragged ourselves outside and started to push the bus yet again. I was sure he hadn’t believed we had any chance of getting further than the next town, let alone Frankfurt.

‘Come on!’ called Tony. ‘Put some effort into it!’

‘Why don’t you come and show us how it’s done?’ I retorted. ‘I’ll swap places with you if you like.’

He shook his head.

‘Insurance. You’re not covered.’

He always uses that excuse. Apparently the insurance company won’t let anyone under twenty-five drive it. Honestly! That is just ancient! I can’t imagine ever being as old as that, and I really fancied getting behind the wheel of the minibus. Not that it’s fast, or anything much to look at, but it’s a lot bigger than a car and I reckon you get a sense of importance being in charge of something that size. But it wasn’t to be.

Under way again, I settled into my seat, Damey by my side, and started to doze off once more while Tony pointed the bus in the general direction of London. And, still in that half-asleep state, I remembered the letter that had started all this off, back at the end of June.

+ + +

‘Hey! What do you think of this, guys?’

‘Think of what?’ said Liz, grumpily. She’d been reading a book when I burst into the dorm, and now she’d lost her place.

‘This!’ I exclaimed, waving the letter at her.

‘I think,’ said Jules, carefully, ‘that it’s a letter.’

‘Very good,’ I replied. ‘And?’

‘And what? For God’s sake!’ Liz cried out. ‘How do you expect us to comment when we don’t know what it says? Give it here!’

‘Or read it out loud,’ suggested Jules.

‘OK. Listen. You know I’m on the County Venture Scout committee?’

‘Oh yes. We know.’

‘You don’t have to say it like that.’

‘Like what?’ said Jules.

‘Like you’re not really interested.’

‘Us? Not interested?’

‘Just get on and read it,’ said Liz.

I cleared my throat.

‘It’s from the Assistant County Commissioner,’ I began.

‘Just read it!’

‘Yes. All right. Give us a chance!’

‘Becky!’

‘Dear Becky,’ I read. ‘Hear that! He didn’t even call me Rebecca. That’s a good sign!’

‘I’m going back to my book!’ Liz exclaimed. ‘Let me know when she gets to the interesting bit. If there is an interesting bit.’

‘Dear Becky, Further to our recent meeting, I would like to cordially invite your unit to take part in the County Scout Camp to be held from the 9th to the 16th of July.’

‘The what?’ said Jules.

‘County Scout Camp.’

‘But it’s in the holidays!’

‘So what? It’ll be fun!’

‘Are you seriously suggesting that we give up a week of our holiday to go on some camp with a load of people we don’t know? Where’s it held, anyway?’

‘London. Gilwell Park,’ I told her.

‘Really?’ This was Liz, beginning to show an interest at last. ‘And what do we have to do, exactly?’

‘That’s up to us,’ I told her. ‘We can make up our own programme. See the sights, that sort of stuff. Big place, London.’

‘What’s the catch?’ queried Jules.

‘Ah.’

‘There is a catch. I can read you like a book!’

‘Oh, all right,’ I said. ‘We have to run a few activities for the Scouts. And Cubs.’

‘No way!’ Jules exploded. ‘I am not spending a week of my holiday looking after a bunch of kids!’

‘It’s not a whole week,’ I retorted. ‘We only have to do three sessions. There’ll be other units there as well, don’t forget, and the leaders run the evening sessions so we get every evening off to go into town.’

‘What sort of activities?’ Liz wanted to know.

‘Nothing difficult. A treasure hunt perhaps, and an obstacle course. All we have to do is set it up and then laugh at them while they get on with it!’

‘What do you think?’ Liz asked Jules. ‘Shall we?’

‘I suppose I haven’t actually planned anything else, and Mum and Dad won’t mind, but haven’t you already got your flight booked, Becky?’

‘You think Dad’s that organized? No way!’

+ + +

I spoke to Nic, still shell-shocked after her A levels, and she actually thought it was a good idea.

‘Yeah. Cool. It’ll give me something to take my mind off waiting for the results. What did Mum and Dad say?’

‘Dunno. I haven’t asked them yet. I thought I’d get my big sister’s approval first.’

‘Oh, that was sweet of you, Becky.’

Honestly! She must have been well stressed-out, because I’d really turned the sarcasm up and she didn’t even notice. Or else she just didn’t let on. I wonder if I’ve misjudged Nic all these years. Still, I thought I’d best phone home before it was too late.

‘Dad?’

‘Becky?’

‘Yes. It’s me. Listen. Have you booked our flights yet?’

‘Oh my God! I knew there was something I had to remember. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise.’

‘Dad!’

‘Really I will. I’m sorry Becky,