“She will do it, but not yet. The aunt should forbid skating for many months. Let us forget it, she should say, let us go away. You, I think, should tell the aunt to say these things.”
Miss Goldthorpe sighed. What a foolish young man he was!
“Mr Lindblom, I’ve told you before it’s quite impossible for me to say anything like that to Mrs King. Last time when you asked me to say something to her I explained that if I did it would mean that I would be given notice, and I have no intention of being given notice. I’m not a vain woman, but I do think that I’m useful to Lalla, and I therefore would do nothing to risk offending Mrs King.”
Max shrugged his shoulders.
“Then nothing can be done. I have told Lalla she should not attempt her inter-gold this spring.”
“Have you told Mrs King?”
Max lit a cigarette.
“The trouble is Harriet.”
Miss Goldthorpe’s eyes opened very wide.
“Harriet! What has Harriet got to do with it?”
“Skating is a very expensive thing. To work properly you must have what Lalla gives Harriet: the good governess like yourself, the outside classes, everything specially arranged to fit in with the training. It is impossible to train properly and to attend a school. If I say to Mrs King give Lalla six months, and no skating, that will mean six months without lessons for Harriet.”
Miss Goldthorpe switched her mind from Lalla to Harriet. Harriet was stronger now; in spite of influenza and the cold winter she seemed well; she was always frail-looking compared to Lalla but that did not mean she was delicate.
“I don’t think you need worry about Harriet. Of course skating has done wonders for her, poor child, but she’s much stronger now and she could practise if she wanted to. Mr Matthews, you know, very kindly lets her come here free of charge.”
Max looked pityingly at Miss Goldthorpe, as if he were thinking, “How can I make this poor, ignorant woman see what is so clear to me?” Then he saw his next pupil was waiting. He got up, said goodnight, and went back on the ice.
It was a nasty night, with driving rain. Outside the rink Miss Goldthorpe put up her umbrella and walked towards her bus stop, but before she reached it a gust of wind caught the umbrella and turned it inside out. While she was struggling with it she felt it taken from her hands, and when she blinked away the rain which was in her eyes, she saw that her rescuer was Alec. Alec had the bag which had held papers over his arm, for he had just finished his evening round.
“Hullo, Miss Goldthorpe, were you coming to see us?”
Miss Goldthorpe had been thinking of nothing but how nice it would be to sit in front of a fire and read a book, but now that Alec suggested it, she saw that this was the obvious moment to call on Mrs Johnson.
Miss Goldthorpe got a lovely welcome from the Johnsons, especially from Harriet, but Olivia guessed she would not have come to see them on a nasty wet night without some reason. She told Toby to take Miss Goldthorpe’s wet coat and umbrella and put them in the bathroom, and when she saw George pushing a chair up to the sitting-room fire she stopped him.
“Miss Goldthorpe is staying to supper with us and I’m going to ask her to help me cook it. I’m afraid it’s a poor feeding night. March never seems a lucky month for William.”
George was not hearing his brother William run down.
“You can’t say that. There were five duck eggs yesterday as well as all those splendid winter greens.”
Toby looked up from his homework.
“People don’t come to us for duck eggs, and the greens weren’t splendid, the brussels sprouts had gone bad.”
Harriet was playing snap with Edward.
“There were some turnips as well, I saw Mummy washing them.”
Edward looked reproachfully at his father.
“You can say what you like, about Uncle William, but nobody can’t say that soup, soup, soup every evening is nice, and that’s what we have to eat, made with his old vegetables. A lady said to me today I was looking pale, and I told her that was because I ate too much soup.”
Olivia laughed.
“What nonsense! You don’t look pale and you don’t have soup every evening, and you know it. As a matter of fact tonight it’s curried duck eggs and vegetables, and you know you’ll like that. Come along, Miss Goldthorpe, don’t listen to these grumblers.”
In the kitchen Olivia shut the door and gave Miss Goldthorpe a chair while she went about her work. The kitchen-dining room was so cosy that in no time Miss Goldthorpe had told Olivia all about Lalla; how worried she and Nana were, of how she had seen Max, and what he had said.
Olivia had by this time boiled the duck eggs hard; she gave them to Miss Goldthorpe and asked her to take off their shells.
“It seems to me a lot of fuss about nothing. If it was one of my children I wouldn’t let them go near a rink again if I thought it was worrying them. But I suppose Lalla is different; as they are determined to make a skater of her I suppose she has got to pass these wretched tests. Is there no one who can make the child see it’s silly to go in for it now, as her instructor thinks she shouldn’t?”
Miss Goldthorpe carefully shelled an egg.
“To have to tell her aunt that, would seem to Lalla admitting that she was not the success she’s expected to be.”
Olivia gave her curry sauce a savage stir.
“If only I could speak my mind just once to Mrs King. I’m a mild woman, but you’d be surprised what I would say.”
“I wouldn’t. I’ve never really lost my temper, it has never seemed worth while. But, do you know, sometimes when I think of the way Mrs King has brought up poor Lalla I wish I could whip her. Extraordinary, for I don’t hold with corporal punishment.”
“What about Mr King? George says he’s nice, can’t he do anything?”
Miss Goldthorpe explained that Nana was seeing him but how difficult it was for him to interfere. Then she said:
“I wonder if you would see Lalla. I’ve been planning a treat for her on Saturday. I’ve taken seats for a musical entertainment; the advertisements say it’s funny; I was not inviting Harriet as I know you like to have her on Saturday afternoons, and from what I read this comedy couldn’t do her any good educationally… I wonder, would you use my seat and take Lalla, and have a talk with her? It would be a great kindness.”
“Bless you, of course I will. I shall enjoy it. I love musical comedies, and hardly ever get a chance to see one. And of course I’ll talk to Lalla, but I don’t know if I can help. I haven’t seen her for weeks, what with influenza and the foul weather, and last time I saw her she was on top of the world. I can’t imagine that child except on top of the world.”
“That, I think, may be the trouble; she can’t imagine herself in any other place.”
Miss Goldthorpe was a poor liar. On Saturday, in the car driving to the theatre, she told Lalla a halting story of a book she had to return, and of how, as Mrs Johnson was in the West End, she was using her seat. Lalla laughed at her.
“It’s no good telling me that, Goldie. Harriet’s mother never would be this end of London on a Saturday with all of them home, and you know it. I bet it’s just you so hated to see a musical comedy you gave your seat away. Isn’t that it?”
Miss Goldthorpe was glad Lalla had hit on something near the truth.
“Well, dear, I don’t like musical plays.”
Lalla put her arm through Miss Goldthorpe’s and rubbed her cheek on her shoulder.
“And you paid for the seats. You didn’t dare tell Aunt Claudia this was educational, did you?”
“It was a little present for you.”
Lalla hugged Miss Goldthorpe’s arm closer.
“Dear Goldie, you’re an angel, and however much a beast I seem, I truly love you.”
Olivia was shocked at Lalla’s appearance. The round, gay, bouncing Lalla she knew had disappeared, and in her place was a thinner, almost serious Lalla, with most of the bounce gone out of her. Olivia w
as thankful to find that the gayness and the bounce were not quite gone, for the play was very funny and Lalla not only got bouncing and gay from laughing, but in the intervals made Olivia laugh by her imitations of the actors. Miss Goldthorpe had arranged that Olivia should take Lalla home in a taxi, but Olivia thought a taxi would be too quick over the journey, for her and Lalla to have a proper talk.
“How about going home on the top of a bus?”
Lalla was charmed.
“Could we? Do you know, I’ve hardly ever been on a bus. Aunt Claudia is afraid of germs.”
Olivia looked pityingly at Lalla. Poor lamb! Even a bus was a treat. If only she could steal her and take her home with her.
Olivia was not a mother who asked her children to tell her things. She tried to make them feel she was always interested in anything they would like to tell her, but if they did not want to talk about something that was their own affair. Because of this it was difficult for her to make Lalla talk, but in the theatre she had planned a way to do it. She started by telling her she was thinner, and asked if it was her diet, and when Lalla explained that the dieting had finished, she said she wondered if she was outgrowing her strength, which was something which easily happened at her age.
“It happened to me. Do you know, I was nearly as tall as I am now when I was not much older than you are.”
“But I’m not much taller, only thinner.”
“It’s the same thing. It means using a lot of energy in growing up, and then there isn’t as much energy for other things. I was brought up in South Africa, you know, and riding was my thing. I loved horses more than anything else in the world, and was supposed to be a marvellous horsewoman, but outgrowing my strength affected my riding. I suppose my horses could feel I wasn’t as full of pep as usual.”
Lalla looked suspiciously at Olivia out of the corner of her eyes. Had Harriet told her about how she could not do loops? Olivia did not look like somebody saying something on purpose. In fact she had stopped talking about outgrowing your strength and was talking about the funny man in the play. Lalla joined in and soon was acting for Olivia most of the parts, and they were both laughing again at the jokes. But underneath what she was saying, and underneath her laughing, Lalla knew something nice had happened. It was as if there had been a tight, hard band round her middle, and somehow Olivia had loosened it and made her feel better. Presently she asked a question.
“What did you do for outgrowing your strength?”
“Saw a doctor. He cured me.”
At Lalla’s gate Olivia kissed her goodbye.
“I have enjoyed my afternoon. I wish sometimes you could arrange for Miss Goldthorpe to give us another afternoon out.”
That night Lalla slept really well. As she was slipping into sleep she thought, “How silly I’ve been. It isn’t that I can’t do those loops. It’s I need a tonic. I’ll tell Nana to buy me a bottle.” And then, cosily, “And if she won’t Harriet’s mother will. It’s nice going out with Harriet’s mother, I hope I’ll be allowed to do it again.”
There were no secrets between Miss Goldthorpe and Nana, so Lalla had told Nana about the matinée. At breakfast the next morning she told her what Olivia had said about outgrowing her strength. Nana tried not to look ruffled, but inside she felt it. She might tell Miss Goldthorpe something ought to be done about Lalla, who was not eating and did not look well, but that did not mean she wanted Lalla asking for a bottle of tonic. Children should not think about their health, that was for grown-ups to do for them. She gave Lalla halibut oil in the winter to keep off colds, and salts now and then in the summer if she had spots, and she made her take the tonic the doctor ordered after her influenza, but health talk from children was not right and she did not hold with it. Then she looked at Lalla and her heart softened. Harriet’s mother had done her good. She seemed much more herself this morning, and was eating a good breakfast without being told.
“That tonic was for the influenza and wouldn’t do good for anything else. You’ll have to see the doctor.”
Lalla helped herself to honey.
“I wish I could see Harriet’s doctor. Ours is so old and grumpy. Harriet’s one said she would get well if she skated. I should think a doctor who said that would know something gorgeous to make you stop outgrowing your strength.”
After breakfast Nana saw Uncle David walking up and down the lawn smoking. Nana did not hold with gardens in early March, but it was a lovely morning, a good moment to catch him alone, for Lalla was working in her garden, and Aunt Claudia was still in bed. Nana dressed as warmly as if it were a cold day in mid-winter, and went out.
Uncle David was glad to see Nana because he had just been talking to Lalla, and was thinking about her.
“That child of yours has been looking under the weather lately. What are you doing to her?”
Nana glanced up at Aunt Claudia’s windows to be sure they were shut.
“That’s what I’ve come out about, sir. She’s got another of these tests coming on for the skating. That Mr Lindblom doesn’t want her to take it, but Lalla won’t be put off.”
Uncle David made a despairing gesture with his shoulders.
“Blast that skating! But I can’t do a thing unless Lalla asks me to; if I interfere on my own I shall be eaten alive, not only by Mrs King but by Lalla, and as well I’d lose the child’s trust.”
“I know, sir. But it seems Mrs Johnson has told Lalla she might be outgrowing her strength, not that she is, but thinking it might be that and not something she can’t do at the skating seems to have cheered her up. Childlike she fancies a bottle of medicine would put her right, and she’s taken to the idea that she would like to be given it by the doctor that looks after Harriet and ordered skating for her.”
“You think it would be a good idea?”
Nana did not think it a good idea that Lalla should want to see a doctor. She did not believe in illness unless there was something to show for it like spots or a temperature. But Lalla was not herself, not eating properly, getting thin. If Nana had her way she would have suggested a fortnight by the sea at Easter, nothing like sea air for building children up; but Lalla would refuse to miss her lessons on that nasty cold ice.
“I don’t know what to say, sir, I’m sure. I try to treat her like I’d treat any child, which is what her mother would have wished, but with the skating and all I can’t. Maybe if she’s taken a fancy to Harriet’s doctor it can’t do any harm, though I doubt it does any good.”
Uncle David smiled sympathetically.
“Don’t worry too much. I’ll have a talk with her and try and find out what’s on her mind.”
Lalla, as instructed by Alec, was raking between the rows of strawberries. The March wind had put colour into her cheeks and the good smell of growing, coming out of the earth, made her eyes shine, but she still did not look as she ought to look. Uncle David’s eyes twinkled when he saw what she was doing.
“You know, poppet, I’ll never believe you planted those strawberries. I bet Simpson put them in.”
Lalla leant on her rake.
“You wrong, he didn’t.”
“But neither did you.”
Lalla gave an imitation of Nana.
“Those who ask no questions won’t be told no lies.”
Uncle David laughed.
“I’ve just seen her. I told her you looked as if she was starving and beating you, and she tells me you think Harriet’s doctor would be the one to cure you. Is that right?”
Lalla laid down her rake and joined Uncle David.
“Yes.”
Uncle David took her hand. They walked down the path.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Before yesterday afternoon Lalla would not have answered that, but now, certain a bottle of tonic from the right doctor was all she needed, she explained about the loops that would not come right; how she even tried to do them in her sleep; how fussed she had been, but now that she knew that nothing had gone wrong with her skating,
but only outgrown strength, she was not worrying any more.
Uncle David watched Lalla while she talked. She was not big for somebody of eleven, in fact she was short for her age; he doubted if any doctor would think outgrown strength was the trouble.
“I expect you’ve been overworking. Isn’t the child wonder taking another skating test?”
“Yes. The inter-gold in May.”
“I dare say the doctor will suggest less tests. It’s a way they have.”
Lalla stood still, all the pink made by the wind leaving her face, and the gayness disappearing from her eyes.
“Then I won’t see him. I’ve got to pass that test, absolutely got to.”
“Why this May? Wouldn’t next year do?”
Lalla tried hard to explain.
“No. It must be now, so I know I can do it. If I have to wait I’ll think and think I can’t. And I simply couldn’t bear that.”
Uncle David gave her a friendly pat on the back.
“What rot! You know you and your aunt between you are making martyrs of yourselves for this skating; simply couldn’t bear it because you might be told not to take a test for a month or two. Really, Lalla!”
Lalla kicked a stone off the path.
“Silly Uncle David, you don’t understand.” Lalla’s voice wobbled. “It was awful that time I failed my silver, more awfuller than anybody knew. People looked sorry; nobody ever looked sorry for me before and I hated it. When people look at me without looking proud of me I feel I’m not Lalla Moore any more.”
Uncle David lit another cigarette. He lit it very slowly to give him time to think of what he had better say.
“It sounds as though we must try and fix for this doctor of Harriet’s to give you a bottle of champion-skater mixture, if that’s what you want. But you’ve got your ideas all upside down. The Lalla I know is an amusing child, and I believe could make her mark in the world without ever putting skates on again. There’s a saying ‘There are more ways than one of killing a cat’, and I think there are more talents than one belonging to Lalla Moore, but I know neither you nor your aunt will believe it.”
Uncle David knew it was impossible to get Aunt Claudia to agree to Lalla seeing a new doctor; he would be asked what Lalla’s doctor had to do with him. Aunt Claudia usually left Lalla’s health to Nana, and sent for the doctor only when Nana asked her to. She might have noticed Lalla was looking peaky and be thinking of her seeing the doctor, but she certainly would not want Uncle David suggesting it. The only thing to do was to ring up Olivia and ask her to arrange it.
White Boots Page 18
