Ballet Shoes

by Noel Streatfeild

  ‘Going to dancing class,’ Petrova said almost every day, ‘wouldn’t be so bad staircase.’

  As soon as they got to the Academy they went down to the changing-room. There they shared a locker in which lived their rompers and practice-frocks and shoes. Their rompers were royal blue with C.A. for Children’s Academy embroidered on the pockets. They wore their rompers for the first half-hour, and with them white socks and black patent-leather ankle-strapped shoes. In these clothes they did exercises and a little dancing which was known as ‘character’, also twice a week they worked at tap dancing. At the end of half an hour they hung towels round their necks (for they were supposed to get so hot they would need a wipe down) and went back to the changing-room and put on their white tarlatan practice-frock. These were like overalls with no join down the back; the bodice had hooks and the frills of the skirt wrapped over and clipped. With this they wore white socks and white kid slippers. The work they did in these dresses they found dull, and it made their legs ache. They did not realize that the half-hour spent holding on to a bar and doing what they thought stupid exercises was very early training for ballet. Ballet to them meant wearing blocked shoes like the little pair that had come with Posy or such as the more advanced classes Wore at school. Sometimes Madame Fidolia came in to watch their class, and directly she arrived they all let go of the practice-bar and curtsied to the floor saying ‘Madame’.

  They got home at half past six, and Posy went straight to bed. Sylvia read to the other two for twenty minutes, and then Petrova had to go up, and at seven, Pauline. The lights were out by half past and there was no more talking.

  On Saturday mornings they worked from ten to one at the Academy. As well as special exercise classes and the ordinary dancing classes, there was singing, and one hour’s acting class. For these they wore the Academy overalls. They were of black sateen made from a Russian design, with high collars, and double-breasted, buttoning with large black buttons down the left side; round the waist they had wide black leather belts. With these they wore their white sandals.

  Petrova, who hated clothes, found the everlasting changing an awful bore. Saturdays were the worst.

  ‘Oh, I do hate Saturdays,’ she said to Nana. ‘I get up in my jersey and skirt, and as soon as I get to the Academy I change everything, even put a vest on instead of my combinations, and wear those rompers; and then my practice-dress and then the overall; and then back into my combinations and my skirt and jersey. I wish I was a savage who wore nothing.’

  ‘That’s no way to talk,’ Nana told her severely. ‘Many a poor little child would be glad of the nice clothes you wear; and as for changing out of your combies, I’m glad you do; you wear holes in them fast enough without all that dancing in them.’

  From the very beginning Madame took an interest in Posy. Each class that she came to watch she made her do some step alone. Posy had her shoes taken off one day and her instep looked at; Madame was so delighted at the shape and flexibility of her feet that she called the rest of the class to look at them. The rest of the class admired them while Madame was there, but secretly none of them could see anything about them different from their own. Pauline and Petrova thought it very bad for Posy to be made so conspicuous, and to teach her not to get cocky they called her ‘Posy-Pretty-Toes’ all the way home. Posy hated it, and at last burst into tears. Nana was very cross.

  ‘That’s right, you two, tease poor little Posy; she can’t help Madame saying she has nice feet. It’s jealous, that’s what you are. Any more of your nonsense and you’ll go to bed half an hour early.’

  ‘Why should we be jealous?’ asked Petrova. ‘Who cares what feet look like? They are just useful things.’

  Pauline giggled.

  ‘Have you pretty feet, Nana?’ She looked down at Nana’s square-toed black shoes which she always wore.

  ‘I have what God gave me,’ Nana said reverently, ‘and they’re all I need, never having thoughts to dance in a ballet.’

  The thought of Nana, who was very fat, dancing in a ballet made them all laugh so much that they forgot to call Posy ‘Pretty-Toes’ again, and they were still laughing when they got home.

  It was at the acting classes that Pauline shone. The acting in their first term was entirely in mime. They acted whole fairy stories without saying a word. Whether she was a princess, or a peasant, or an old man, Pauline managed to make them real without any dressing up, but just in the way she moved.

  At singing classes none of them shone. They could keep in tune, but that was all — they were in no way distinguished.

  Just before Christmas the school broke up for a month. All the senior girls were working in pantomimes, and for some time all those who were not old enough for licences had felt very unimportant. The children’s classes were moved from one room to another to make room for rehearsals, and the notice-board was covered with rehearsal calls. ‘All concerned in the Rose Ballet, in room three at 4.30.’ ‘The children appearing in “Red Riding Hood”, 5.30, room seven.’ ‘The principals for the Jewel Ballet 4 o’clock, room one.’ And, as well, calls for the children stars. ‘Poppy: 10.30 with Madame Fidolia.’ ‘Winifred: 12 o’clock with Madame Fidolia.’

  Pauline, Petrova, and Posy would gaze in great awe at these names.

  ‘Winifred,’ one of them would say —’that’s the girl who wears a fur coat. Poppy is going to be “Alice in Wonderland”. She’s the one with the long hair.’

  They would peep through the glass on the doors of the rooms where the rehearsals were taking place, and stare at the children who were already twelve and old enough to earn money.

  ‘Not this Christmas, but the one after I shall be one of those children,’ Pauline said enviously.

  ‘Do you want to be?’ Petrova asked in surprise. ‘I’m very glad I’m not twelve, except because of Garnie wanting money to look after us.’

  Pauline watched the figures through the glass, the rows of white practice-dresses, and the rows of pink canvas ballet shoes.

  ‘I don’t want to be them, exactly,’she explained, ‘but I want to be me old enough not to dance, but to act. I’d like that.’

  Posy could not see through the glass without standing on her toes. Suddenly watching the ballet rehearsal she got up on to her points. She was only wearing her sandals, but she did not seem worried by the position. Pauline nudged Petrova.

  ‘Look at Posy.’

  Petrova looked. Then both of them tried to stand up on their toes, but they could not — it hurt. Posy was not looking at them; but she lolled against the door balanced on her points as easily as if they were her flat feet. Petrova said at last:

  ‘Could you walk on your toes like that, Posy?’

  Posy looked down at her feet as if surprised at the way they were behaving. Then she walked down the passage. She was perfectly easy on her points, as though it was ordinary to walk on them. Pauline and Petrova did not show her how impressed they were, as they thought it would be bad for her. But on the way home Pauline said:

  ‘You know, Petrova, I do think Posy really has got rather nice little feet.’

  Petrova nodded.

  ‘I shouldn’t wonder if she danced terribly well.’

  At the end of the term Sylvia was told that the children would work differently in future. Pauline was to move into a more advanced class for everything, and to come to an extra class for acting in French on Wednesdays and Fridays. Posy was to give up all acting and singing, and to take fencing in stead, and all her classes in future were to be given by Madame herself. Posy was too small to be impressed at the plans for her future; but not only Pauline and Petrova were impressed for her, but the whole Academy. She was the only child since the school had started that Madame had picked out from the baby class to come entirely under her supervision.

  ‘Do you know,’ Pauline told Nana, ‘these afternoons since the school heard about Posy quite big girls come to watch our class. The ones who are old enough to have a licence.’

  ‘I daresay.
Let’s hope it won’t turn her head. You’ve done very well too, Pauline. One of the mothers of a child in your class I was talking to told me her little girl had been in that same class three terms.’

  ‘That’s what I’ll be, I expect,’ Petrova said gloomily.

  Nana was consoling.

  ‘I wouldn’t fret, dear; we can’t all have the same gifts.’

  Petrova was very depressed, though. She did not want to be a good dancer; but since she had to dance at all it was annoying to see someone younger than herself doing so much better; and then Pauline moving up was a blow, as it left her alone in her class. Pauline had often helped her with steps at home so that she did not get on too badly; but with Pauline gone she was suspicious that she might be the dunce of the class.

  It was Christmas when the term ended. The children at once settled down to making paper rings, which, when they were finished, Mr Simpson hung all over the house. On Christmas Eve Mrs Simpson and Sylvia put holly over the pictures, and mistletoe on to the lamp in the hall. The two doctors had secrets going on in their rooms that they would not tell anyone, and nobody could go in. Cook and Clara were busy in the kitchen all day long, and told the children they were not to come down. Only Theo was not there. She was away up in Manchester putting final touches to the dances of a group of children from the Academy who were appearing in the pantomime.

  Pauline and Petrova were with Sylvia while Posy was going to bed.

  ‘There is a lovely feeling about Christmas Eve,’ Pauline said. ‘My inside almost hurts being excited; I can’t sit still for wishing it was tomorrow.’

  Sylvia smiled.

  ‘You deserve a nice Christmas, darlings. You have been such hard-working children all the term; I want you to have lovely holidays.’

  ‘It’s a lovely holiday just not having to go to the Academy,’ Petrova pointed out.

  Sylvia looked worried.

  ‘Do you hate it so?’

  Petrova was just going to say how much she loathed it when Pauline kicked her, and she remembered how Theo had told them that they would be able to help by earning money. She flushed.

  ‘No, I don’t. It’s quite fun really.’ She spoke as much as if she meant it as she could.

  Sylvia gave a thankful sigh.

  ‘I’m so glad! I wouldn’t let any of you do it unless you were happy.’

  Nana came to the door.

  ‘Do you know it’s nearly seven, Petrova, and your bath getting cold, and a big stocking of mine waiting for you to hang up.’

  ‘Stockings!’ Pauline jumped up. ‘I shall come to bed now too, Nana, to make it quicker to get to Christmas morning.’

  CHAPTER VI

  Petrova has Influenza and Makes a Friend

  PERHAPS because they had been working so hard, Christmas day seemed the loveliest they had known. Nothing was very different from other Christmases; but somehow it seemed a particularly gay day. Their stockings bulged when they woke, and besides all the usual things in them, there were large white sugar pigs with pink noses and wool tails. When Nana came to tell them to get up, she had three parcels under her arm, and they, of course, had presents for her. Pauline had made her some handkerchiefs, and Petrova a needle-book full of needles, and Posy a blotter of two plaited paper mats stuck on cardboard. Nana had knitted each of them a jumper with fluffy rabbit’s wool round the cuffs and collars. Pauline’s was blue, Petrova’s orange, and Posy’s pink. They all put them on for breakfast. On the breakfast table were chocolates for them from Theo; everybody else’s presents were waiting for the Christmas tree after tea. They went to church — even Posy — and sang ‘Hark, the Herald Angels’, ‘Oh Come, all Ye Faithful’, and ‘The First Noël’. They had been afraid that perhaps they would only get one that they knew and the rest some dull tune that was supposed to belong to Christmas and did not really. The turkey and plum pudding and crystallized fruits and things they had for lunch, as Posy was not allowed to sit up to dinner. After lunch Sylvia read to them while they did an enormous jigsaw that she had got especially for Christmas afternoon. Then there was tea, and Cook had made a most remarkable cake with a Father Christmas and reindeer on it, and as well, three large gold stars which she said was what she hoped the children would be.

  It was when they went into Doctor Smith’s room for the Christmas tree they had the big surprise of the day. Sylvia always had a Christmas tree for them; but this was not like any tree they had seen before. It was the usual fir tree; but every branch was covered with glittering frost, which made the tree look as though it were magic.

  ‘Was that what you were doing when you were both locked in yesterday?’ Pauline asked the doctors.

  They agreed that it was, and seemed very pleased that everyone thought it so beautiful. Cook said it was as pretty as a picture, and Clara that it put her in mind of something off a Christmas card, and Nana that it was very nice indeed, but she was glad nobody was expecting her to stick all that stuff on the branches. Mrs Simpson said that she and Mr Simpson were very lucky that it was so lovely a tree on the Christmas day that they were home, as they didn’t have a Christmas tree in Kuala Lumpur. Sylvia told the two doctors if that was how Christmas trees ought to look, they would always have to stay in the house, because she knew she couldn’t decorate them like that. The three children thought it so perfectly beautiful that they could not say anything at all, but just walked round and round it admiring.

  The Christmas presents were very satisfactory; but everybody else’s faded into unimportance beside Sylvia’s. She gave them each a jewel-box, and when they were opened they had wrist watches inside. Pauline’s on a blue strap, Petrova’s on a white, and Posy’s on a pink. In the boxes with them was a plain brown strap for ordinary days.

  ‘Garnie! Just to match Gum’s necklaces,’ Pauline exclaimed, so excited that she could not fasten the strap of hers, and Mrs Simpson had to do it for her.

  The children were wearing white organdie dresses with Gum’s necklaces and sashes to match them, except Petrova’s, which was a scarlet sash. Everybody agreed the watches were just the right finishing touch.

  Petrova was as pleased as the others, but a bit worried.

  ‘Weren’t they dreadfully expensive, Garnie?’ she whispered.

  She knew it was the rudest thing you could do to ask the price of a present, but she could not bear to think that Sylvia had made herself poorer than ever buying watches.

  Sylvia drew her into a corner.

  ‘I’ll tell you a secret. I had a great big gold watch that had been my father’s. I couldn’t use it, so I sold it and bought those for you. So in a way they didn’t cost anything at all.’

  After the last present had been opened and the last candle on the tree blown out, they played charades and hide-and-seek all over the house. It was great fun; but everybody suddenly thought about the time. This was the end, and Christmas day was over for another year, which was a miserable feeling. Presently Cook and Clara went away to get dressed for their own Christmas party downstairs, and then Nana took Posy to bed. After that, although they had supper of cold turkey and meringues, the day was terribly finished, and both Pauline and Petrova felt as though they had been balloons, but were now pricked and had gone flat. Then suddenly a lovely thing happened. A large choir of carol-singers came under the window and sang. They all leant out to hear, and it was like a play. The singers, both men and women, wore masks and coloured capes and hoods, and they carried lanterns. They sang most beautifully ‘God rest you Merry, Gentlemen’, and ‘The Holly and the Ivy’, and ‘Sleep, Holy Babe’. Pauline and Petrova took a plate each and collected money for them. Pauline did best, because she went to the kitchen, where the party was, and Petrova went to the nursery where there was only Nana and Posy; but with what the boarders and Sylvia gave them, and their own pennies, they had nearly fifteen shillings. Sylvia made them put on their coats, and Mr Simpson opened the front door for them, and they took the money out. The singers were just finishing the last verse of ‘Sleep, Holy B
abe’. They waited till they had done, then they gave them the money. They were very pleased, and thought fifteen shillings a wonderful lot to have got; they said the money was all going to a children’s hospital. They asked if Pauline and Petrova would like to choose a carol before they went to another street. Pauline thought a moment, and before she had done thinking Petrova said — ‘Oh, please, “Like Silver Lamps”,’ so they sang that one.