"That one there miss, she took some silver thing from the corridor and hid it in her costume," the sharp-eyed bespectacled girl from the Wonder dorm said, pointing. "I recognise the different shade of her robes. She's not one of us."

The year head pounced on the girl as everyone drew back from the accused figure. In a moment the gown was wrestled off her, revealing a protesting Pirouette Wrangly.

"What is the meaning of this?" the mistress said, beating out the robe and finding no hidden treasure within. The clothes of Pirouette underneath the robe were too tight fitting to conceal anything either.

"Perhaps she swallowed it," Dolly suggested.

"Get her to cough," someone else added.

While everyone seemed absorbed in this strange little drama, the initial shock of the alarm had made Vetta scurry down a side corridor where she quickly found herself alone. She doubled back in fright, and there she saw as she returned, by the light of her wavering candle, a figure furtively clamber over a window sill and out into the night. Before the mysterious person had disappeared she popped her head back in to check if all was clear and her hood had fallen back. Her eyes fixed upon the affrighted Poldorama girl a moment, then she smiled, winked and finally was swallowed up by the darkness. Vetta did not recognise her, but she knew she would if she saw her again, for her hair was an astonishingly vivid blue in colour.

Vetta returned to hear an outraged Pirouette deny all knowledge of thievery and that the school head would hear of the matter in the morning.

"What's going on?" Vetta asked the chuckling Meresinth.

"Our posh friend wished distinction and now has it, being accused of stealing something."

"Oh," Vetta said and despite her nervousness, stood forward into the ring of girls.

"Please miss, this appears to be wrong," she said and the woman turned to her questioningly. "The person who may have taken something was not one of the girls in the procession. Pirouette Wrongly-"

"Rangelly," the accused girl huffed.

"Wrong jelly," Vetta stuttered and halted as the other girls laughed.

"Silence!" the mistress ordered. "Pray continue. This pupil here?"

"Yes," and Vetta nodded. "She only looks like the thief on the outside as her costume was a similar shade to the real thief."

"A matter which I shall also bring up," and she looked at Pirouette meaningly, "in the morning. Please, continue. The real thief?"

Vetta described what she saw in simple terms, elaborating only on her fear, and panic flight when someone shouted.

"And miss, to find the real thief, all we need do is find a girl with blue hair," she added helpfully.

"The Blue Hair Clan," the mistress sighed. "I heard that some of them had been spotted in the area. They're not thieves usually, so I'm not sure what that girl was up to. Right then girls, alarm over. The matter can be investigated thoroughly in the morning. There's no danger, so we'll continue the procession. Pirouette Wrangly, here's a replacement robe. You don't want to be mistaken for a thief again, do you?"

"No miss," came a response through gritted teeth and with that the strange interruption to the solemn procession was forgotten although the final flourish when all robes were discarded and everyone cheered had a slightly distracted tone to it.

Vetta was first up the next morning, in spite of all the excitement of the preceding night and having donned her thinnest coat, the autumn season of Frangea being so much more mild than her home land, she wandered out and around the grounds of the school, following signs that led to the amble walks among the pine forest. They were clearly marked so she could not lose her way. Thus she enjoyed the refreshing air and marvelled at the great mounds of earth and sloping valleys she could see all around her. Birds chirped in melodies unfamiliar to her and little creatures scurried among the pine needles in slightly unnerving ways, but it was all so splendid she forgot her fears for the moment and drank it all in.

Then having had enough of high places, she walked leisurely down towards Cherryball Flats in search of a place to eat for the morning had flown by and lunchtime was upon her. When she got back she found the other girls discussing what to eat and where to go.

"I have found a pleasant food outlet," Vetta declared helpfully. "It is called the Squeaky Tomato."

"Sounds divine," Pirouette said, arranging a cuff of her blouse with the air of a dissatisfied fashion model obliged to wear tacky off the rack designs.

"Oh it is! They do a wonderful cheese and ketchup ensemble."

"Where is this Squeaky Tomato?" Meresinth asked supportively, knowing the girl was just trying to be helpful. To this question Vetta launched herself into an enthused description of her morning's amble walk and all the discoveries she made, right up to the cheese and ketchup ensemble. She might have gone on a while longer but a prefect poked her head round the door to call Pirouette away. Everyone looked suitably concerned for they knew it was about what had happened.

"I hope they don't punish her," Vetta said kindly after she was gone.

Meresinth was going to make an acid rejoinder but there was such an earnest sense of concern for the fate of the posh girl on Vetta's face that she thought better of it.

"When do we begin lessons?" the bespectacled girl asked, clearly eager to get stuck into the curriculum.

"As soon as they've printed enough books to feed our hungry brains," Dolly languidly said. "I vote we decamp to the Squeaky Tomato for a messy fun lunch and not be here when Miss Wrong Jelly returns all fuming and indignant at her treatment." This was generally agreed upon, with only one exception.

"I have already eaten," Vetta said with a smile.

"Your company would be welcome though," Meresinth encouraged.

"Thank you. Friendship is one of the five well-springs of joy," she felt obliged to say. "However it would be nicer for Pirouette to not be alone when she returns from her interview, so I shall wait here for her."

"Suit yourself," Dolly said, grabbing her bag and departing. Meresinth paused at the door and looked back.

"You are too kind for your own good, you know that?" she said with a smiling shake of the head.

"Kindness is a form of generosity, one of the-" but she never finished the formula for the girl had left. Thus Vetta quietly composed herself to await the coming of Pirouette. She did not have to wait long for the girl stormed into the room fuming exactly as Dolly had predicted.

"It's disgraceful," she declared, glaring around the room in search of sympathy and finding Vetta sitting quietly on her bed, hands in lap, smiling back at her in welcome. "Where is everyone?" she frowned.

"They have gone to the Squeaky Tomato for lunch," Vetta said. "You must be hungry. If you hurry, you may still catch them. It is an amazing walk down this long, deep valley with wonderful trees either side full of melodious birds."

"I'll skip it. I'm on a diet," the girl said and Vetta looked a little concerned.

"It is important to eat well to stay healthy," she admonished the restless girl gently. "Good health is one of the five well-springs of joy."

"I don't care about well-springs or any other kinds of springs frankly," Pirouette said. Then she made a face, standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips staring frowningly at the Poldorama girl for so long she became nervous. On impulse she stalked forward and thrust out a hand. Vetta looked up, alarmed.

"Shake," the girl insisted. "You saved me last night from expulsion, and a beating from my father if it ever got to his ears. Grateful is what I am."

Briefly Vetta squeezed the proferred hand, horrified at the thought of the girl being beaten by her own father. She desperately wanted to suggest something to change the subject. An idea came to her.

"Perhaps you would like me to show you some of the walks I went along this morning, among the giant trees?" she asked hopefully.

"Giant trees," the girl scoffed and Vetta thought she was going to refuse. Yet she grabbed her coat and a surge of joy went through Vetta's frame at seeming to make friends with this difficult girl.

They wandered in silence in and out of the woods, keeping to the marked paths for a while until Pirouette strayed over a crest in search of the sounds of falling water. Vetta wanted to protest but her eye caught the glint of metal at the edge of the path among the pine needles. When she took a closer look she recognised it immediately. It was the statue the blue-haired girl had stolen. What was it doing there? Before she could retrieve it though Pirouette shouted her name and reappeared over the crest. Vetta returned guiltily to the path and waited for the other. As they resumed their amble walk she felt sure she glimpsed someone with blue hair watching her from among the trees.