Eva Ibbotson - The Star of Kazan

‘Such pretty hair, she had,’ the maid had said… and Annika too had pretty hair. The professors began to be haunted by the image of Annika lying on the stone flags in pools of her own blood.

Once they had decided to stay, the professors became very forceful. There was an old encyclopedia in the smoking room of the inn, and when Emil turned to the page about Ragnar Hairybreeks he found that his memory had not been faulty. A beautiful maiden, the daughter of a king, escaping a cruel war, had been carried to safety hidden in a harp.

Professor Julius had already been to the school when he went to enquire about visiting Annika. It was Emil therefore who called late that afternoon and asked to see the principal, Fräulein von Donner.

He wore a black beret pulled down over his forehead and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and introduced himself as Henri de Malarme, a concert impresario who had been sent by the music master of the Duchess of Cerise.

‘The duchess, as you know, is a close friend of your patron the Princess Mettenburg.’

Fräulein von Donner was impressed. She did not usually see people who came to the door, but a messenger from a duchess, especially one who knew their own princess, had to be listened to.

‘Her Grace’s concert master has a harpist whom he values greatly — a Frenchwoman. She has transposed the patriotic songs of the Fatherland for the harp. There is one song, “Let Our Enemies Tremble”, which has already become famous in aristocratic circles. It is in the key of E flat minor,’ said Professor Emil.

‘And how does this concern us here at Grossenfluss?’ asked Fräulein von Donner, bending forward so that the three keys on her chest — the one for the front door, the one for the isolation room and the one for the cubbyhole, which housed the telephone — all clanked together.

‘Her Grace has suggested that this harpist visits a few specially chosen schools to give a concert. Free of charge, of course — the concert is free. It seems important for the pupils to know that an instrument that is often played by women can also be used to hearten men for heroic deeds. Even for war.’

‘Well, that is true. We are always concerned that the girls in our care are trained to serve the Fatherland in any way — and music of course has often been used as a battle call. Though not,’ she went on, ‘on the harp.’

‘No. And that is what interests the duchess. That is why she is sending Madame La Cruise to give recitals to young people. And it so happens that Madame is going to Schloss Bernstein to play there, and she could stop here on the way. I take it that you have a suitable hall?’

‘Yes, of course. Our round room on the first floor is traditionally used for concerts.’

‘And all your pupils attend?’

‘Of course. Unless they are being punished.’

‘Then may I take it that you will receive Madame La Cruise at six p.m. on Sunday?’

‘So soon?’

‘That is the only day she has available, I’m afraid. I will let you have all the arrangements in writing. Now, if I could just see the recital room? Madame La Cruise is particular about the acoustics — and about draughts. Draughts are very bad for harps, as you know.’

‘Our acoustics are excellent,’ said Fräulein von Donner. ‘And a draught would not be permitted here.’

But she beckoned to her eel-like assistant, Mademoiselle Vincent, who took Emil to the round room on the first floor, which was reached by the wide flight of stone steps leading up from the main hall.

He did not catch so much as a glimpse of a single pupil in the silent building.

‘I expect they keep them underground,’ said Ellie when he told her this.

Which left the problem of getting a message through to Annika. ‘She’s got to know exactly what to do,’ said Professor Emil.

There was a long silence. Grossenfluss seemed as impenetrable as a castle full of ogres.

But even ogres need someone to cook and clean and shop for them, and the maid who was Ellie’s special friend had a sister who worked in the school.

‘I’m seeing her this afternoon,’ she said, ‘it’s her day off. I’ll ask her if she can help. But it’s no good giving her a note — they’re all terrified of Fräulein von Donner. You’ll have to tell me what she’s to say to Annika, and keep it very short. I’m sure she’ll do her best, but it can’t be a promise.’

But the chambermaid managed it. The message she gave Annika in a hurried whisper as she was turning down the beds was not very clear, but when she had received it, Annika realized she would not need to pretend to be sick. She felt sick already: with excitement, dread — and something she had not felt since she came to Grossenfluss. Hope.

They had managed to unload the harp case and trundle it towards the door. Professor Gertrude was trembling with nerves, but Stefan was dogged and calm. He had no faith in Professor Emil’s plan and could wish that Ragnar Hairybreeks was at the bottom of the sea, but he was going to get Annika out somehow.

He pulled the bell rope and the porter who came said that they were expected. Stefan looked carefully round the cold, dimly lit entrance hall. The big flight of steps leading up to the concert room was straight ahead: he could just make out the murmur of the girls’ voices through the open door. The cloakrooms were on the right, and to the left was an unlit corridor leading to the back of the building.

It was from the corridor that there now came the tap tap of a walking stick and Fräulein von Donner came towards them out of the dark. The glinting keys, the steel-tipped stick and the badge of the Order of the Closed Fist on the headmistress’s collar all filled Stefan with an instant loathing. This was an evil place run by an evil woman, and he realized that he would stop at nothing to rescue Annika.

Fräuelein von Donner greeted Professor Gertrude, and ignored Stefan.

‘The girls are ready,’ she said.

But before they could unpack the harp, the principal’s assistant appeared from behind her employer and asked Professor Gertrude if she would care to follow her to the staffroom to take off her coat and freshen herself up.

Mademoiselle Vincent not only spoke French, she was French — and since she had been told that the harpist was a fellow countrywoman, it was in her own language that she addressed poor Professor Gertrude.

The professor had learned French at school, but that was a long time ago. However, there was nothing for it and she allowed Mademoiselle Vincent to lead her away, leaving Stefan to look after the harp in its case.

Upstairs in the concert room the girls waited.

Annika was sitting near the big double doors, which were folded back to allow the entrance of the harp, and she was sitting next to Fräulein Heller. Normally Annika would do anything not to sit next to a teacher, but if she was to feel sick in the interval and ask to be excused it would be easier to get permission if she was close b y.

The maid who had given Annika the hurried message had said only that someone Annika knew was coming to give a concert, but she had mentioned one name to which Annika clung now like a drowning person clutching a lifebelt.

Stefan. The maid had mentioned Stefan’s name.

Annika closed her eyes, summoning up memories of her childhood friend. Stefan carrying his brothers on his shoulder; Stefan reaching a hand out to help her up when she fell; Stefan climbing a tree to bring down a screaming, panic-stricken child… Stefan was strong, he was true — if there was safety anywhere it lay with him.

Down in the hall, Professor Gertrude returned with Mademoiselle Vincent, looking very shaken. Emil had had some stupid ideas in his time, but why had he told them she was French? Why not Portuguese or Finnish or South African? Mademoiselle Vincent had spoken to her incessantly and rapidly in the kind of French that is never taught at school, and Gertrude did not feel that she had given a convincing performance as Madame La Cruise.