Up early, and out to the waterfall pool in the quiet. Mrs. H-T was already there, perhaps taking a brief respite from her very crowded longhouse (eighteen counting Helen right now.) She had mentioned awhile ago certain traditional exercises the Island women do, and I asked her to teach me. At one time I would have thought them rather indelicate, but now I can quite see the point – certainly Mrs H-T has a very fine figure, despite her large family.

      Alas, duty called Helen and myself away from such pleasant company. Back into blazers and off to the airport, timetables and maps in paw as we settled down to more Songmark-Spotting. The long-distance flights leave Hawaii and the Dutch East Indies at about midnight local time to arrive here for breakfast – and indeed on the first arrival on the Humapore route we had three more first-years (plus Adele Beasley.) One of them took an awfully long time getting through Customs – it appeared they had to dust off some very rarely used official guides to remind themselves what a passport from Ubangi-Chari is meant to look like.

            Saffina Montmorency is a very strange looking girl – she quite towers over us, and would be a typical lioness if not for her fur pattern. Where in the world do they have tabby lions? She speaks very good English, though with a French accent: certainly Madelene X should be glad of someone to talk to. There are few lionesses living on Spontoon; I could not really name any apart from the one we occasionally see working on that garish old Junkers that keeps appearing off Eastern Island at odd times.

            On escorting them back to Spontoon, we picked up some postcards that had arrived for us. One from Erica in Germany, hurrah! It seems she has been seconded from her role as a Party organiser, and is part of the team planning sporting events. I hear that next year’s Olympic Games in Berlin is expected to be a well-attended event. Another card is from Maria in Italy, though the mail only travels a few days faster than passengers and she should be arriving any day now. It will be super to see her again.

            No first-years on the afternoon flights, though Jasbir Sind and Irma Bundt showed up; it really feels like watching a house being built brick by brick. At least we are appreciated – Miss Blande turned up and noted that no first-years had slipped past us (on arrival last year Adele Beasley turned left instead of right from the runway and was lost for hours) and that only four were still missing. She took us to one side, and confided that she had some unfortunate news about Molly.

            Oh dear. It seems that of the various Family traditions Molly had described to us, paying taxes was not one they specialised in. Simply “going legit” as she described it, merely made their earnings visible to the Government, who were not interested in being paid in tins of PAMS. Her Father had to stuff all the ready cash available into the hold of his seaplane on Lake Inherently-Superior, and dodge the pursuit all the way to exile in Cuba. That looks like an end to the family fortune, as the Authorities seized the PAMS factory and there is very little profit to be made these days in importing beers and wines.

            Poor Molly! I remember being quite shocked to see the actual size of the Songmark yearly fees, and sincerely hope hers are already paid for the next two years. If not – it came as an awful shock to realise we might never see her again. Both our tails were drooping at the prospect – although Molly can be most charitably described as a trigger-happy Pyromaniac, that does not make her a bad person.

            We were given an afternoon off, much to Missy K’s annoyance as she was press-ganged to take our place. We have had no word from Molly since she arrived home in early August – it will be very hard to help her until we know where she is, and if she is managing to get here at all. Just paying her rent on Spontoon is not a problem ( we could raise those funds ourselves), the real stumbling block is the accountant-terrifying Songmark bill. We have seen the new flying-boat being overhauled for us at Superior Engineering, and all that will have to be paid from our fees. My allowance is generous, but not that generous – and Helen’s education is taking almost all the money her late Father left her.

            Song Sodas proved less of a lift to our spirits than we had hoped, recalling the fine times our dorm had had there – without Molly there would be an awful hole in our ranks. All of Prudence’s dorm are here already, and were catching up on lost time with their native friends. We were quite surprised to see Beryl though – who stormed in with her tail swishing and her ears right down, demanding to know where Missy K was hiding herself. News travels fast around here.

            Beryl calmed down after awhile, and explained that her schoolfriends Salome and Jezebel had been doing some important work for her friend’s father, Mr. Van Hoogstraaten (Senior). I hardly dared to ask what that was – but by her account they were very physical types, having been in the First Fifteen Rugby team and both having at various times won the Harriet Ffinchley-Smythe cup for the dirtiest rugby tackle of the season.

            After finishing our sodas we left Beryl quietly sharpening those croquet stakes of hers, and were glad to leave Songmark behind for the evening. Being able to stroll out for a free evening is a treat that we are appreciating all the more for only having 2 more nights away from our dorm. Indeed, Prudence and Tahni were at the water taxi docks heading over to Main Island just as we were off to South Island. Naturally, Songmark is a respectable place – it takes great planning in term time to get away for the evening, though I suppose that makes it seem all the more worthwhile. Although we have often envied students of the Spontoon Island Technical High School for being able to go where and when they please, getting round our restrictions is probably a better education (the staff have broadly hinted that we can probably get Anything in life if we work and plan for it properly.). Though I do love ice-cream, having it served at every meal would make it far less of a treat.

            A very pleasant evening working in the garden plot helping the Hoele’toemi family with their Taro harvest, before returning to our longhouse. It is a reassuring idea – though we may be travelling all over the islands next term, at least this will be waiting here for us when we can get away.

September 16th, 1935

Hurrah! It seems that Beryl has been “volunteered” for our job of student-spotting, so we are free for the day. Hopefully our Tutors will have her covering one air terminal and Missy K the other, or there will be fireworks. Today being Saturday, the four of us headed out to see the sights of Casino Island. Today the illuminations are turned off – although the last of the big tour boats has gone, there is always a trickle of independent travellers to cater for.

            Jirry and Marti tell us they are quite glad to get away from carrying film canisters and escorting waddling tourists from beach to bar and back again – still, it pays better than picking bananas. Actually, there are quite a few industries opening up around Spontoon, mostly on Eastern Island – there is a tannery that has managed to produce fish-skin leather, which though not very strong looks very striking for head-dresses and other decorations.

            Thinking of fish, Marti has a friend who I hope is well-paid – I remember the fish cannery on the North coast of Main Island from our Easter trip, and he is hauling about a tonne of fish bones and innards a day from there to Professor Kurt’s power plant. I doubt the Althing really anticipated the good Professor importing waste to Casino Island – quite the reverse! Still, even the pilot plant is pouring four hundred kilowatts into the local power system, and the Casino Island parks are blooming as never before.

            I keep expecting to hear a loud bang from the Northern shore of Casino Island, but so far so good. Both the new power plants are quite impressive pieces of engineering, considering what they are running on. In all the stark Futurist films they show cities of the future as being lit by Radium furnaces and the like – sadly there is no Radium to be had in these islands. Rather a disappointment to our former third-years, who left about two tonnes of Uranium yellow cake in the Tanoaho’s cellar. Nobody will ever want that much for pottery glaze, will they?

            We had a fine luncheon at a quite empty tourist café run by one of Jirry’s cousins. It advertised “Hams and cigars – smoked and unsmoked”. The ham was a rare treat, but we definitely left the cigars. None of us smoke, though we considered getting some for Maria. She has been known to make herself ill with the occasional cheroot when our Tutors are not watching; at least the fumes keep mosquitoes away.

            In fact, we spotted Maria arriving, as a large Cant seaplane in Italian Air Force markings flew overhead before vanishing round the shoulder of the hill heading for the Eastern Island seaway. That had to be her, we agreed – her Uncle is always so considerate, and often arranges a military escort to take her out of his jurisdiction. It was rather a dilemma whether to drop our plans and rush over to meet her – but we will have very few days like this, and we will have a whole term to catch up with Maria’s adventures. I just hope Molly is with her.

            Jirry had mentioned having a surprise for us – he had four tickets for the last dance show of the season at the Coconut Grove! Although we have seen dress rehearsals and the like there we have never been to a full performance. A most impressive show – though our jaws dropped when we spotted two rather familiar dancers on the back row. Jasbir Sind and Li Han managed to get onto the stage after all, despite what our Tutors said – which is probably why they arrived early. As Beryl has said, “it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”

            I must say, they did very well, and would have made at least our dance tutors proud. Seeing a Maharajah’s daughter in a showgirl costume is something that would make headlines in the more lurid papers – we will not be telling our journalist friend Missy Aha about it. At this end of the season, I can imagine some of the Euro dancers will have already left, providing vacancies that Jasbir was quick to fill. We are all learning to grab whatever chances we get, a subject which is not exactly written in the Songmark timetables.

            Back to South Island early, very keen to make the most of our final evening. Tomorrow night we will be tucked away in respectable dorms, with laundered sheets and pillows instead of palm matting and wooden head-rests. When I first saw those I wondered how anyone could sleep on them – but I have got quite accustomed to the idea. There is an awful lot I will have to manage without this term.

September 17th, 1935

A day of hello and goodbye – Helen and I had a last luncheon with the Hoele’toemi family, before shouldering our kit bags and resolutely striding down the trail to Hotel Bay. Of course, today being Sunday, Maria was there, just leaving Church! The Chapel of the Sacred Heart is absolutely the only Euro church on South Island – it was built in 1890, before the Spontoonies quite settled what could be built where.

            A fine meeting indeed – Maria is looking in very robust good health, having been wandering the Italian Alps all summer. Her Uncle had the fine idea of promoting tourism in the somewhat impoverished mountain regions, so sent Maria and a camera team to film the remotest peaks and valleys they could find. He certainly makes the most of Maria’s time – on the final day he had an autogiro pick her up from a mountain meadow and fly her straight to the coast and a seaplane waiting with the engines running!

            We had quite a lot to tell her about our Summer – and indeed, we could tell her quite a lot about our Krupmark trip, excluding some of the more unfortunate details. She regretted having missed the trip, but by all accounts had a lively time herself. Part of the trip was to visit a training unit of young “Alpinieri” mountain troops, which involved spending a lot of time watching the frontier from remote mountain huts. At least Maria was never short of anything to do.

            Alas, there is no sign of Molly – Maria has heard nothing of her, and neither had anyone else when we returned to Songmark. It was interesting to move to our new dorm block though, with everything freshly painted and decorated for the coming year. The new rooms are not over the Staff resident quarters but over the classrooms, and a little nearer the fence. We see possibilities here.

            One thing we did straight away was to check the walls and furniture for possible hiding places – Maria says she has missed Nootnops Blue, which is not available in Italy. With a little adaptation we can put our radios and other things in there securely; our Tutors still tend to confiscate anything that is sloppily concealed.

            I had handed over my Webley-Fosbury revolver to Miss Devinski to store in the locked cupboards in the staff room, but some other souvenirs of the trip I am keeping close by. The dress Mrs. Critchley found for me is now washed and pressed – when Maria and Helen went to shower I put it on, looking at a very different person in the mirror. Certainly there could not be any catnip traces left on it – but I did feel very peculiar as I wore it, remembering the last occasion. I must say, my regular Songmark sandals really do not go with the outfit, and caught myself standing on tiptoes to judge the effect.

            I just changed back and packed the souvenir away in time before Maria returned, wondering if I will ever use it again. All our gear is now neatly stowed away, ready for inspection tomorrow – we are sure our Tutors will be starting off by brushing any cobwebs away, one way and another. Looking at the empty bed I must confess that for awhile I had almost forgotten about Molly, what with everything else – and have to confess to an uncharitable thought. If the worst happens and she never gets back here, at least I will be spared telling her about Lars and the last time I wore it…

            (Written before lights-out)
Well, here we are, all showered and groomed, with our second-year uniforms all neatly cleaned and pressed for tomorrow. Helen and I have brushed out the fur patterns marking us as trainee Spontoonies attached to the Hoele’toemi family, though I will be wearing my Tailfast locket in class whatever anyone says. Our timetables are loading down the desks with a promise of an awful pile of work in front of us – tonight is the last night we will be really relaxing for a very long time.

            It has been a splendid holiday – but it is over. Tomorrow, our Second year begins!

next  ( And Amelia’s adventures will continue ...)