Cracks Page #2

Wait for me.

Apparently, Miss G has ended

her affair with Mr. Du Toit.

He's one of the fathers.

She wasn't in love with him,

it was purely physical.

- They were driven by their lust.

- Is that true?

It's absolute tosh.

Lily, stop making a show of yourself.

And I saw Mr. Du Toit once.

He was very handsome.

Like a movie star.

He had big strong hands and blue eyes

that promised wild adventures.

So really, it's entirely possible

that he and Miss G could have

given in to their desire.

I quite fancied him for myself.

Because older men know all

about female sexual ecstasy.

Lily, I think one day

you shall have a first in sex.

What's that?

For my breathing.

It clears the passages.

Oh, it smells.

Like my grandmother's linen drawer.

Come on, Rosie.

You've got the black spot.

On your head.

Ooh, black spot.

- Didn't you notice?

- So what?

It means you're going to die.

I'd better go back

to the school then.

She's obviously never read

"Treasure Island".

She has no idea what you're on about.

Poppy!

Ooh-ah, it weren't me

and you can't prove a thing.

Ooh-ah, mind my peg-leg.

And my parrot.

Spelling.

Spelling.

Oh, Fuzzy, grammar.

- She reads our letters?

- Of course. What did you think?

- Who's Pablo?

- A friend.

- A boyfriend?

- A boy and a friend.

- A prince?

- No. Regrettably.

- Is that why you were banished?

- I was not banished.

- Like Romeo and Juliet?

- Do it again.

- And don't sound so down in the dumps.

- Yes, Miss.

Letters are greetings.

Use this opportunity

to show your dear parents

your fine penmanship

and turn of phrase.

Don't harry them for tuck

and pocket money.

- Is that for me?

- No.

Are you sure?

I think I can see my name.

No. Shoo. Go on, off with you.

Persephone Burls?

Fuzzy, for you, I think.

- Can't make head nor tail of the stamps.

- They're Egyptian.

Ooh!

Fiamma Coronna.

You see? You haven't been forgotten.

That's all, I'm afraid, girls.

But I'm sure Fiamma won't mind

sharing her treasures.

"Dear Persephone,

hope you're well and studying hard.

"Daddy's taking up his post in Rhodesia

a week earlier than expected..."

Aren't you going to open it, then?

- Here?

- Come on, show us. Let's see.

Look at this!

Go on.

This is heaven.

Fiamma, tell me the story again.

- I told you last night.

- I like it. Please.

Please.

There once was a king

and his beloved daughter.

Together they explored distant lands.

One day,

they encountered a sultan

who offered the king

an extraordinary gift

in return for his daughter's hand.

A magical blue diamond.

But the king was greedy

and took both,

the diamond and the Princess

back to his mighty castillo.

But the Sultan came looking

for the Princess

and begged her to fly away with him

on a magical tapestry of silk.

And the Princess was so intoxicated

that she flew away with him

never to be seen again.

Can't sleep, Di?

I was thinking of home.

Would be a shame to waste

such a beautiful night.

Come on. We're going swimming.

Wake the others.

Lily.

- Laurel, wake up.

- Wake up. We're going swimming.

Don't be ridiculous.

It's the middle of the night.

It's a compulsory lesson.

You can't bunk. Get up!

What lesson?

What are you talking about?

What are you waiting for?

Kingdom come?

Lily!

I'll splash you.

- Got to swim faster than that.

- You're mother!

- How do I play?

- Chase the mother fish. Chase Di.

You're mother.

- Who's mother now?

- You're mother.

Miss G learnt this game in India.

Really? I love India.

When were you there?

A few years ago.

Miss G, tell Fiamma about

how you rode on elephants with rajas!

Oh, Di, we've all heard that story before.

I'd rather hear

about Fiamma's adventures.

I haven't had adventures.

I just travelled with my father.

Miss G travelled alone.

Really?

I was a bit of a scandal in my day.

I remember one captain

who was quite loath

to having an unaccompanied woman

on board.

It caused such a stir, I was forced

to disembark at the next port.

Where else have you been, Fiamma?

Abyssinia, Somaliland, the Dodecanese.

And Paris.

Paris is filthy.

Do you care for Paris?

I love to travel.

One day I shall have to resume

my exploration of the world.

It's in our blood, isn't it?

You're not like the other girls.

They're still waiting

for their lives to begin.

But not you.

But you can go whenever you choose.

Why do you stay?

I stay for my girls, of course.

When they leave, so shall I.

This is out of bounds, Miss Gribben.

I had no idea. Nothing is locked.

It is an honour system.

We respect confidentiality here.

And I thought

you would have known that.

Quite a scandal though, wasn't it?

A countess stealing away with

a peasant. And a Marxist, to boot!

Imagine the daring, the courage.

That is neither here nor there.

We have had to protect many girls

from themselves over the years.

I just felt if I knew a little of her

history, I could be of more help.

All our girls are to be treated equally,

regardless of their past.

As you well know, Miss Gribben.

You have been with us a long time.

I'm sorry, Miss Nieven.

It was an error of judgement.

It won't happen again.

See that it doesn't.

The world is a perilous place.

It would be a shame for you

to have to find that out firsthand.

So have you decided?

Is it a centre-piece for a dinner party?

Or a christening?

Or a simple 'get well' arrangement

for an ailing relative.

Or have you any ideas of your own?

You can be creative.

The world falls at her feet

because she's an aristocrat.

It's so unjust. So unearned.

Fuzzy Burls, what have you done?

Fuzzy never gets any help.

Did you hear? Your father

called for you on the telephone.

- My father?

- The prince himself.

Why wasn't I told?

God knows where you were.

We looked everywhere for you.

- In the end he had to speak to Lily.

- What did he say?

Well... I think he took

quite a shine to Lily.

He's arranged to see her next week.

He's sending a carriage

and champagne for her.

Your father's a randy bugger, Fiamma.

He's going to deflower

our precious Lily.

You shouldn't be cruel.

Excuse me, Miss Cairns.

I was wondering if I might take

advantage of the glorious sunshine

and steal the girls away

for a dive.

By all means.

Fiamma, dear?

If you don't mind, Miss Cairns,

I wish to stay.

Fiamma, the great British summertime

rarely indulges us.

It is barely past lunch.

I will get a cramp and sink like a stone.

Suit yourself.

Girls.

Last dive, girls.

Show me something interpretive.

- Come on, be sexy, girls!

- Look, Miss G. Whoa!

- Well done, Fuzzy.

- Elephant. Poodle.

Chicken dance.

No textbooks today, girls.

Oh la la.

Ta-da!

- Look at this!

- Look at this hat.

Now, a story about Africa, I think.

The last remains of the First Mate.

Mr. Riley I believe his name was.

He died in a mandrake swamp

on the way to the Congo Franais.

Poor Mr. Riley.

We were touring in a steamer,

but he wanted to take a canoe

and explore deeper into the lagoon.

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