Visitors for the Chalet School

by Helen McClelland

Madge looked down at the girl she still tended to think of as her ‘little sister’. There was more than twelve years’ difference in their ages, and Madge had taken the place of a mother to Joey. All the same, she thought, Jo is growing fast; she must be as tall as I am now. Fifteen next week, too; she’s not a child any more.

  ‘Well, shall we stay in here until the Robin’s had her rest? Then we could all walk along the Alpe and collect the others from the San on the way back,’ she suggested.

  ‘Splendiferous!’ pronounced Joey. ‘Oh, Madge, it is being an absolutely marvellous birthday treat: staying here; and having the Robin and Rufus and the marionettes — oh, and you, of course! — all in one weekend; what more could any girl ask?’ And Joey, rather like a large puppy, dropped her head for a moment on to Madge’s lap.

  Madge shook with laughter. ‘Joey-Baba, you can be so funny sometimes! Anyway, I’m glad at least you put the Robin before Rufus, even if I do come at the end!’ She ruffled Joey’s unruly black hair affectionately and suppressed the headmistress-like comment that was on the tip of her tongue. Jo would have to go and make herself presentable before they went out, but it was pointless to criticise now.

  ‘When will Frieda and Elisaveta get back?’ asked Jo.

  ‘I don’t know exactly; but I’m sure Gottfried will bring them back in time for Kaffee und Kuchen,’ her sister answered.

  Frieda’s brother, Gottfried Mensch, a recently qualified doctor and now one of the team at the Sanatorium, had taken his sister and Elisaveta off that afternoon to see the chalet where he was hoping to make his home.

  ‘Wasn’t it decent of Frieda to suggest Elisaveta going with them?’ Jo remarked. ‘I mean, it’s not that I wanted to get rid of them or anything, but it is jolly to be on our own, just for a little while.’

  Madge nodded agreement. It had been a characteristically thoughtful action on Frieda’s part, she reflected.

  ‘Madge, how in the world did you manage to get the Robin smuggled up here without a single soul knowing about it?’ Joey asked suddenly. ‘At least, not really without a soul knowing, I s’pose, but you see what I mean. And I’m certain the Robin herself hadn’t the remotest idea when I saw her on Friday afternoon.’

  ‘It was all fixed up with Mademoiselle by telephone about a week ago,’ Madge answered. ‘Joey, could you move over a little? — my foot’s going to sleep. Yes, thanks, that’s better. But the Robin wasn’t told anything until after breakfast yesterday. We really couldn’t have expected the poor lamb to keep it a secret from you for long, bless her!’

  ‘But who actually brought her up here? Jem couldn’t possibly have done.’

  ‘Oh, no, we’d left for Innsbruck by half-past seven. Gottfried fetched her; he was off duty in the morning; and the idea was he’d get to the school about eleven o’clock, because we all thought you people would be safely out of the way by then. Of course, as things turned out . . .’

  ‘Golly, Madge!’ Jo broke in. ‘We must have been only a whisker away from bumping into Gottfried at Seespitz! Oh, I am so glad we didn’t; it would have ruined that absolutely splendacious surprise!’

  Joey smiled, remembering for a moment their arrival at Die Rosen the previous evening.

  It was late when they reached the Sonnalpe but, even before coming into the house, Joey had rushed her three friends round to the shed to greet Rufus, her beloved St Bernard. The huge dog was a favourite with both Frieda and Elisaveta, and Patricia had, of course, to make his acquaintance.

  After a considerable time devoted to ‘Rufus-worshipping’, the girls burst noisily into the house, and it was then that Joey saw the large piece of white paper pinned up at the foot of the stairs. Madge, knowing her sister’s tendency to exuberance, had written in enormous black letters:

  WARNING! JOEY! TAKE GREAT CARE TO BE QUIET. SURPRISE AWAITS YOU IN YOUR ROOM. ON TIP-TOE, PLEASE! H U S H !!!

  Full of curiosity, Joey ran lightly up the stairs, to pause for a moment at her bedroom door, where another notice repeated, in even larger letters, the one word ‘H U S H!’

  She eased the door open and saw by the night-light’s glimmer the tiny sleeping figure in the second bed. The Robin, her curly hair dark against the pillow’s whiteness and her little face rosy-flushed, lay sleeping with that intensity peculiar to small children. Jo felt her heart very full. She stood absolutely still for several moments; then, after giving the sleeping child a light kiss, she crept from the room, her black eyes glowing with happiness.

  She had flown downstairs to thank her sister with a kiss and a bear-like hug. Jo had a horror of sentimentality, but she dearly loved the motherless Robin, and Madge could not possibly have arranged anything that would have pleased her more.

  The chiming of the hall clock broke in on Joey’s thoughts at this point. Quarter-past fourteen now; in half an hour they could set out for their walk. Jo stretched her long legs and leant back against Madge’s knees. Suddenly she asked, out of nowhere apparent: ‘How d’you think they’re getting on?’

  Madge was used to Jo’s habit of wildly changing a conversation’s direction. ‘Do you mean Jem and Patricia?’ she queried, guessing correctly where Jo’s thoughts had flown.

  There was a moment’s silence. Jo wriggled round on a rug, and when Madge looked down it was to find her sister’s huge dark eyes fixed intently on her. She began slowly: ‘Jem and I had a long talk with Patricia this morning and . . . ’

  But Joey interrupted: ‘Madge, I don’t a bit expect you to tell me, you know. If it’s private, of course I’ll understand.’

  Madge shook her head. ‘Oh, no, Patricia was quite happy that I should tell you,’ she assured the younger girl. ‘Not that there really is much to tell.’

  She paused again; the morning’s conversation came back to her vividly.

  ***

  She, Jem and Patricia had spent the morning at Die Rosen, while Jo accompanied Frieda, Elisaveta and the Robin to the hospital, where a visiting priest was saying Mass. (Jo was not a Catholic, but Madge was always perfectly happy for her to attend Catholic services when she wished.) The three sat comfortably in the salon, Madge writing a letter, while her husband enjoyed the unusual luxury of a few minutes’ reading.

  Patricia too had a book on her lap, but she had not been reading. At last she screwed up her courage to speak: ‘Please may I come and see the hospital this afternoon, Dr Jem?’ She felt so nervous that the words came out jerkily, sounding rather as though she expected a refusal.

  Jem Russell looked up from his book. ‘Of course, Patricia; delighted to take you round. I’d been expecting this, you know; made all the arrangements last week, in fact.’

  The doctor had formed a good opinion of Patricia; obviously intelligent and sensible, she also had a kind of seriousness which impressed him. She was interested in people and, although a little shy, appeared to get on well with all age groups.

  And, of course, Joey had not failed to tell her sister and brother-in-law how splendidly Patricia had coped with the emergency at the Stephanie. All in all, Dr Jem felt that the girl had the qualities necessary to make a doctor and needed encouragement. However, he knew little of her background: here, he understood from his wife, there were difficulties and he must tread carefully.

  ‘When do you leave school, Patricia?’ he asked.

  ‘End of term,’ was the curt reply.

  There was an awkward pause; and then, suddenly, it all came out: how the London season began in early summer and her mother insisted that, since she would be eighteen in January, she must finish school at Christmas and prepare for her coming out, with all the attendant rituals and paraphernalia.

  ‘In fact, Mother really wanted me to leave last July, but the head persuaded her to let me stay on for one more term and join this trip to the Continent. Perhaps Mother imagined that foreign travel would take my mind off ideas about studying medicine.’ And Patricia gave a rueful laugh.

  There was silence again. Dr Russell and his wife were both searching for some way in
which they could help the daughter, without obviously taking sides against her absent mother.

  ‘Have you ever considered the idea of nursing, as a first step towards becoming a doctor?’ Madge asked tentatively.

  ‘Oh, goodness, I think Mother would find nursing even more horrifying than medicine — she’d never dream of allowing it, I’m certain of that.’

  ‘But in just over three years’ time you will be of age,’ Dr Russell pointed out. ‘And then you would be in a position to decide to train as a nurse, if you wished. Medical studies cost a great deal of money, so you wouldn’t be able to embark on medicine without financial help. But as a nurse you would get your keep and some pay — even though it is very little — while you were training. You could be independent.’

  Patricia said nothing. But it was obvious that she was listening with painful intensity.

  ‘Nursing is uncommonly hard work,’ the doctor continued, ‘but it is also enormously worthwhile. And it would give you a start in the world of medicine.’

  ‘It would still mean three years of waiting, Patricia,’ Madge said gently. ‘Can you stand up to that?’

  Patricia nodded slowly. ‘Oh, yes: I could wait,’ she said in matter-of-fact tones. Somehow her hearers had no difficulty in believing that she was right about this.

  ‘And, who knows, you might get the chance later on to study medicine — if you still wanted to, that is,’ Jem added encouragingly. But here Patricia disagreed:

  ‘Oh, no, I’d be much too old by that time.’

  ‘Nonsense, my dear!’ Madge was firm. ‘A family friend of ours was thirty-five before she was able — for family reasons — to take up medicine; and she’s become an absolutely splendid doctor.’

  Patricia gave one of her rare and beautiful smiles. ‘I’m not sure I could wait as long as that. But anyway, thank you both for being so helpful and kind. I’ll certainly think about nursing. And there is . . . ’ She hesitated for a moment, apparently uncertain how to proceed. ‘You see, I did think . . . Oh, I don’t know, perhaps I shouldn’t even be . . . ’ Her voice trailed off altogether. And although Madge and Jem waited patiently, the silence continued to grow. Clearly some new conflict was filling Patricia’s mind. Suddenly she looked deeply unhappy.

  ***

  At this point Madge paused in her account to Joey. ‘I think, Jo, it suddenly came home to her that, even though there could be possible ways of getting to her goal, her mother’s attitude wasn’t going to change. The lack of understanding between them would still be there. And although I’m sure Patricia has enough determination to carry things through, I don’t see her as the kind of girl who could be ruthless about it.’

  ‘And her mother’s probably just the sort who’ll never speak to her again if she does take up the nursing idea.’ Joey’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘I think she sounds utterly poisonous.’

  ‘Jo, you simply must not speak like that,’ Madge said sternly. ‘And there’s no need to be so dramatic about it all. Patricia’s mother doesn’t understand her very well, but, in her own way, she’s probably fond of her. Oh, I know you don’t agree,’ for Jo was shaking her head protestingly. ‘And I’m certain, too, that, underneath everything, Patricia is fond of her mother. It shows in lots of ways.’

  ‘But, Madge, that only makes everything more difficult.’ A shadow had crossed Joey’s expressive face. ‘Poor Patricia! It’s rather like one of those puzzles where there isn’t any answer — you know, there’s a sort of maze, and whatever way you go you can’t get out. Oh, dear, I’m getting all muddled up

  . . . I mean: Patricia can give in and please her mother and be jolly miserable herself, or she can grit her teeth and go for what she wants — as soon as she’s old enough — and then her mother will be all upset. So it can never really come right, can it?’

  ‘Well, don’t worry about it any more, Joey-Baba.’ Madge stooped and gave her sister a kiss. ‘Lots of things in life do sort themselves out in the end. And this isn’t your concern. I want you to forget all about it for now, and help to make this a happy day for everyone. Oh, goodness gracious!’ She was looking incredulously at her watch. ‘Surely that can’t possibly be the time! I promised to wake the Robin at half-past fourteen, and it’s nearly a quarter to fifteen. Go and get her ready, Joey, there’s a lamb. I’m just going to phone and tell Jem we’ll be round in about forty minutes’ time. And Joey! I don’t want to nag, but do remember to brush your own hair!’

  Joey, looking and feeling much happier, bounded off upstairs. And Madge first gave a moment to straightening the pretty chair-covers and then went to put through her call to the Sanatorium.

  CHAPTER XXI.

  A PUZZLING PARCEL.

  HAVING once decided to cast care to the winds, Joey set out to enjoy the rest of the weekend holiday with almost too much enthusiasm. The quiet walk that Madge had planned came near to becoming a riot, for Jo was so full of energy that merely walking was far too dull for her. First of all, she ran races with the Robin, giving her, of course, a giant start each time, and then catching her up in a great flurry of arms and legs. Rufus added to the confusion by bounding round them in enormous circles, travelling at least ten yards to every one of theirs. Eventually, when the Robin panted that she had ‘not one tiny little breath left’, Joey offered her a ‘pick-a-back’ ride, but at this Madge intervened: ‘Joey-Baba, do try to think occasionally! You know quite well that Jem disapproves of your carrying the Robin; she’s getting too heavy for you now.’

  So Jo was forced to curb her high spirits; and, to Madge’s relief, she walked sedately hand-in-hand with the little girl, telling her as they went a fascinating story about a water-nymph.

  ‘Joey, did you really say she lived under a stream?’ queried the Robin, wide-eyed.

  ‘Yes, right underneath — water-nymphs do, you know. And this particular water-nymph was specially lucky; her home was under that gorgeous little waterfall in the Zillerthal, the one we saw last summer, remember?’

  They collected Patricia from the Sanatorium; but Dr Russell, having discovered various matters that needed his attention, announced that he must remain at the hospital and would rejoin them later.

  Back at Die Rosen, Frieda and Elisaveta were impatiently awaiting them.

  ‘We’ll have Kaffee right away, girls,’ Mrs Russell decided. ‘So will you all go and wash and tidy now? After Kaffee I expect the Robin would enjoy a game of Hide-and-Seek, wouldn’t you, mein Vögelein?’

  The Robin beamed and the idea met with general approval.

  ‘I’m going to enjoy it, too,’ Joey remarked as she took the stairs to the bathroom two at a time. ‘Will you play, Patricia?’

  ‘Yes, indeed; unless you think I’m too old, of course,’ Patricia retorted.

  In the Speisesaal they found a sumptuous feast prepared for them. Marie Pfeifen had made an extra-special chocolate Torte covered with whipped cream to celebrate Fräulein Joey’s birthday; and there were also some delicious little cakes that Madge had bought the previous day in Innsbruck.

  Joey proceeded to entertain them with a spirited account of the pranks played by the Middles on ‘Mischief Monday’. She soon had the whole party laughing helplessly at her description of Matron descending, ‘like a wolf on the fold’, upon the hapless Evadne and her friends. Even Madge, torn between feeling scandalised and amused, could not help joining in the laughter. But eventually, noticing the Robin’s big brown eyes fixed on Joey in utter fascination, as the tales of wickedness unfolded, she pulled herself together and said severely: ‘Well, I think they were extremely lucky that Matron was not harder on them; they were really very childish and naughty. And I hope, Jo, that you did not join in any of this silliness.’

  ‘Oh, Madge, of course not! As if I’d want to play a stupid game with needles.’ No one could possibly have guessed, from Joey’s air of outraged virtue, how often she had been a ring-leader in the most outrageous scrapes.

  She kept up the pretence for a full half-minute; then she burs
t out laughing and confessed with a sheepish grin: ‘As a matter of fact I wasn’t even at mending that night. Matron thought I might be starting a cold ’cos I was a little hoarse — sort of croaky, you know — and she shot me off to bed before Abendessen.’

  Madge gave a quick apprehensive look at her sister. Jo had been very delicate as a small child, and even now, when two-and-a-half years in the Tiernsee air had done wonders for her, a careful watch still had to be kept over her health.

  ‘Oh, I’m absolutely fine now, Madge,’ Joey, seeing the look, reassured her. ‘It was only a sort of “safety first”, making me go to bed; no end of a bore, though.’

  At this point the Robin created a diversion. She had been looking puzzled during Joey’s recent remarks and now asked: ‘Joey, why did Matron send you to bed? You were not naughty, were you?’

  ‘No, sweetheart; well, not this time, anyway. Matron just thought I might be getting a cold.’

  ‘But Joey, it did sound so strange before when you said — how was it? — you said you were a little “horse”. Qu’est-ce que cela veut dire, alors? Un petit cheval, non? Mais ce n’est pas possible.’

  No one would have dreamed of laughing at her. During the first six of her eight years the Robin had spoken mostly French; and although she now coped very well with English (and was making rapid progress with German), she still had trouble occasionally when she met an unfamiliar English expression.

  While Joey explained the difference between ‘hoarse’ and ‘horse’, Madge poured out more coffee. ‘And I think Patricia might like another cake,’ she said. ‘Please pass the plate, Robin, dear.’

  Elisaveta had been deep in discussion with Frieda. She now turned accusingly to Jo: ‘Do you mean to say, Joey, that you did not even see this duel between Evadne and Suzanne?’ Her eyes were wide with astonishment.