Chapter 10

The next day, I took my notebook and pen and headed to Mrs Sinclair’s office at lunchtime. I’d thought about bringing my favourite pen with the purple fluff-ball on the end, but I figured that wasn’t very professional. So I selected a sensible, black pen, which I could click in and out as I pondered big thoughts. That’s what always happened in the Millie Mysteries books that I liked to read. Whenever she was thinking deep, ponderous thoughts she would click, clickety, click her pen until she had an epiphany. That’s a moment of realisation when you suddenly know the answers to your deepest questions. Like a big ping in your mind.

I smiled at the receptionist, who waved me through, then quietly walked up to Mrs Sinclair’s door and knocked three firm but polite knocks.

‘Come in,’ Mrs Sinclair’s voice said from inside.

‘Hello, Ella,’ she greeted me, with a smile. ‘Would you like some tea? I’ve just made a pot. It’s decaf,’ she winked.

‘Oh, yes, that would be lovely, thank you,’ I said, taking a seat in front of her desk.

Mrs Sinclair pulled out two little, china teacups from the cabinet behind her desk and poured the steaming hot tea into the cups. She added milk and offered me sugar, of which I took one cube.

‘This reminds me of having tea with my Nanna Kate,’ I said to her. ‘Nanna Kate says that tea is a “balm for the soul”. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but she reckons that if all the world leaders sat around together with a pot of tea, many of the world’s problems would be sorted by the end of the day.’

‘Your Nanna Kate sounds like someone I would get along with,’ Mrs Sinclair chuckled.

I nodded, then put on my VSC (that’s Very Serious Conversation) face.

‘So, can you tell me a bit more about this trophy that went missing?’ I asked Mrs Sinclair, with my pen poised over my open notebook.

‘Well, Ella,’ she said, gazing out the window, ‘we all know that the world is full of … of stuff, really. Items that crowd our lives—things we think we need which we really don’t. But there are also things that have immense sentimental value—they are more than just stuff.’

I scribbled frenziedly. Sentimental value.

‘And the House trophy was a special thing of sentimental value to the Eden community. You see, the previous headmistress before me—the one who donated the trophy—was someone very close to me,’ Mrs Sinclair said.

‘Can I ask who?’

‘Yes, she was my aunt. She was the one who got me a job at Eden College as a teacher. I was young and keen and excited about teaching the girls here. And she was such a passionate person. Passionate about education. Passionate about literature. Passionate about changing lives.’

I nodded as I continued to scribble.

‘She taught well into her old age, always inspiring the girls and faculty staff to be the best they could be. Do you know what our school motto is, Ella?’ Mrs Sinclair asked.

I thought back to the school emblem. Underneath it were words in a language I didn’t know.

‘It’s in Italian, isn’t it?’ I asked.

‘No, my dear, Latin. Some people think Latin is a dead language, just because it isn’t spoken anymore. But Latin is like a key—it is a language which opened the doors to our own language, with all its richness. Our school motto is, In Meliora Contende. Can you say it?’

‘In Mel …’ I began.

‘Meliora Contende,’ Mrs Sinclair finished.

I let the words roll around my tongue. In Meliora Contende. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked.

‘It means, Strive for Better Things. But it also means that the good you do will yield more good things.’

I nodded, thinking about the meaning.

‘And that is what my aunt taught the girls. She taught them to always try their best and to always seek to do good in a world that isn’t always right,’ Mrs Sinclair said, taking a sip of her tea. ‘And so, when she passed away, we made a new House trophy. It was called the Meliora Trophy, and is very precious to me and to the school.’

I continued to scribble down notes.

‘So, how do you feel about it being stolen?’ I asked. Ivy had said that good journalists always get to the emotion of a piece.

‘Well, I feel very sad, Ella. Because theft is the very opposite to everything my aunt, and indeed our whole school motto, stands for.’

‘The antithesis, you might say?’ I probed. That’s a fancy word for opposite.

Mrs Sinclair let out a chuckle and nodded. ‘You are a smart cookie, aren’t you, Ella?’ But then she stopped speaking and stared out the window, into the distance.

I paused in my scribbling and looked at Mrs Sinclair. She really did look sad. This wasn’t just another trophy to her. This was something that represented her aunt. And the school she loved.

‘Do you have any more information on your aunt— maybe some other things I can read about her? Maybe I could do a profile on her?’ I asked.

‘Oh, that would be so lovely, Ella. I actually have some newspaper clippings about her. But alas, they are in my filing cabinet over there,’ Mrs Sinclair said, nodding towards the wooden filing drawers in the corner of her office. ‘Frustratingly, I lost my key just this week! So silly of me—I always keep it in my top drawer here, but I must have taken it out.’

Still in reporter mode, I wrote that down in my notes.

‘But don’t worry—I’ll book the handyman in to come and open the lock for me, and when he does I will show the newspaper articles to you,’ she assured me.

I took my last sip of tea and thanked Mrs Sinclair. Having tea with her felt like a little piece of home.

‘I look forward to reading your piece,’ Mrs Sinclair said, as I gathered my notes together.

‘Thank you for your time,’ I said, standing up.

As I walked out the door, I thought about Mrs Sinclair’s sad face. It wasn’t fair that someone had taken her aunt’s trophy away. And it wasn’t fair that someone had taken Zoe’s special necklace.

I knew Mrs Sinclair only wanted me to write about the personal side of the thefts, but surely I could also keep an eye out for clues? I wasn’t about to go and accuse anyone of stealing anything. But if I was writing a report on the issue anyway, and interviewing the victims, then surely I had more insight into the mystery than anyone else.

I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I decided then and there that I was going to find Zoe’s necklace and Mrs Sinclair’s trophy.

After class, we had another meeting of Eden Press. Ivy was running the meeting and we began our layout for the upcoming edition of the online paper. A couple of the Year 9 girls who were really good at online design had begun making a template for the new-look paper, which we hoped more people would be reading.

Two Year 8 girls were working together on the puzzle section—creating find-a-words and sudokus, as well as mazes and crosswords.

A girl named Sara was editing photos on the computer—photos she had taken of the recent music ensemble concert and the Seniors’ debating team. I watched in awe as she zoomed in on the photos, editing them to make them brighter and clearer. She was like a magician with a wand. It was so cool.

I sat at a desk near Ivy and a few other writers working on their journalistic pieces, too.

‘So, how’s the report on the thefts going, Ella?’ Ivy asked.

I saw Saskia glance up at us, then quickly look back down at her screen.

I was slightly surprised to see Saskia at the meeting. She’d missed the last meeting, saying she had to study for our upcoming streaming tests. She seemed to be taking that whole thing pretty seriously, even though all the teachers said it wasn’t a big deal.

‘Pretty good,’ I said. ‘I’ve got my interviews with the victims of the thefts and I’m going to add a piece about the headmistress that donated the House trophy that was stolen.’

Ivy nodded. ‘Good work, Ella.’

Saskia rolled her eyes.

‘What are you working on, Sass?’ Ivy asked her sister.

‘It’s top secret,’ Saskia said, as she minimised her open window.

‘Well, as Editor, don’t you think I should know what you are writing?’ Ivy asked.

‘Don’t worry—I’ll show it to you soon,’ Saskia chirped.

Ivy narrowed her eyes and smiled slightly.

‘OK, I need someone to cover the athletics carnival next week,’ Ivy said in a loud voice to everyone in the room. ‘Who has time?’

‘I can!’ Saskia jumped up.

‘Really?’ her sister asked. ‘You just said you’re working on something else. And I know you’ve been really bogged down with studying for your testing. I don’t want you overwhelming yourself.’

‘It’s fine,’ Saskia laughed. ‘I’ve studied my head off—I don’t think I need to study much more anyway.’

‘No studying anymore? That doesn’t sound like you, Sass! Usually you study right up until the last minute,’ Ivy laughed.

Saskia flashed a bright smile and waved her hand in the air. ‘Oh, I’m prepared. And I’m sure I’ll end up in the top stream anyway, so what’s there left to stress about?’

Ivy shrugged, clearly confused. ‘OK, if you are happy with that, it’d be great if you could cover the carnival.’

‘Done!’ Saskia sang.

She sure was in a good mood today.

‘OK, everyone, feel free to go when you need to,’ Ivy said, beginning to shut down her laptop. ‘Great work today, reporters!’

I watched Saskia as she continued to type on her computer. She seemed so much more bubbly today. I wondered why.

‘And what are you looking at?’

I startled as Saskia caught me staring at her.

‘Oh, nothing,’ I mumbled. ‘I was just thinking that you’re in a good mood today.’

‘Well, why wouldn’t I be? The sun is shining, I’ve got new ideas for Eden Press and I’m going to absolutely nail those streaming tests. What’s not to love?’

‘I guess,’ I said uncertainly.

As I finished packing up my things, Saskia shut down her computer and gathered her own belongings together. She flashed a smile at her sister and skipped out the door. Ivy looked at me with a confused expression. Then she simply shrugged and gathered her items together before following Saskia out of the room.