Ballet Shoes for Anna (Essential Modern Classics)

  “He’s an unexpected visitor. Do any of you know where the little gentleman has come from?”

  The children made various suggestions but none near the truth.

  “Well, I must see what I can find out. I don’t love gnomes myself but no doubt somebody does and is missing this little fellow.”

  After roll call the headmaster signalled to the school not to move. He was smiling, so evidently he still thought the gnome funny.

  “Have any of you ever seen that gnome before?”

  First Francesco’s hand was held up, then Anna’s and lastly Gussie’s. Then, after a second, the twins put their hands up.

  The headmaster looked at Francesco.

  “Where have you seen the gnome?”

  “It is The Uncle’s,” Francesco explained. “He has two who fish in a pond though there are no fish.”

  “And our visitor is one of the two?”

  Francesco shook his head.

  “He looks the same but perhaps all such gnomes look the same.”

  “And where have you two seen him?” the headmaster asked the twins.

  “In Mr Docksay’s garden,” said Jonathan.

  “We live next door,” Priscilla explained.

  “And you both think it’s one of Mr Docksay’s gnomes?”

  Jonathan managed a realistic shrug of the shoulders.

  “He looks the same.”

  The headmaster did not question Gussie or Anna.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll telephone Mr Docksay to see if a gnome is missing.” Then, signalling to the pianist to start playing, he called out “School dismiss.”

  As it happened Cecil had not looked out of his windows that morning so he was very surprised at the headmaster’s question on the telephone.

  “A gnome! Hold on, Headmaster, I will look.” A second later Cecil was back on the telephone. “Indeed it is mine. Vandalism! I shall call the police.”

  “The gnome appears undamaged,” said the headmaster calmly. “I think it must have been intended as a joke.”

  Cecil almost roared.

  “A joke! A joke! Do you call it a joke when somebody breaks into the privacy of your garden?”

  The headmaster felt he could do no good.

  “Well, if you will drive up to the school I’ll see the school keeper helps you lift the gnome into your car. I’m sorry this has happened.”

  Cecil shouted for Mabel who came scurrying down the stairs.

  “Someone has had the impertinence to take one of my gnomes up to the school.”

  Mabel’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Oh no!” she panted. “Whoever would do that?”

  “Where were the children last night?”

  “In their rooms doing their homework.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course, dear. Anyway how could they get into the garden? You were in the lounge.”

  Cecil went to his desk and took out the key to the garden gate.

  “And the gate was locked. Then someone got over the wall. I shall call the police.”

  Mabel gave a squeak.

  “Must you, dear? I mean, if you know where it is there is not much the police can do, is there?”

  “It’s vandalism. An Englishman’s home should be his castle.”

  “Yes, dear. I suppose so, dear,” Mabel agreed. “If you are going to telephone the police I’ll finish making the beds.”

  At the top of the stairs Mabel paused to listen to make sure Cecil was on the telephone, then she hurried into the boys’ room. From behind the wardrobe where Gussie had hidden them she took out some very damp clothes and a strange jersey. The jersey she folded nearby then put it in his drawer where he could not fail to see it, but the clothes she put into the washing machine.

  Very naughty of him if he took it, she thought, but I don’t see how he could have. Such a little boy to carry one of those large gnomes.

  Cecil was not finding the police as helpful as expected.

  “Yes, sir,” the policeman at the end of the line was saying. “A gnome. I’ve got that. But it’s been recovered, I think you said, sir, so what were you wanting us to do?”

  “I want every inch of the garden examined to discover where someone broke in.”

  “Very well, sir. I’ll tell the inspector.”

  “And I want your men here at once.”

  “I’ll see what can be done,” the policeman said placatingly. “Good morning, sir.”

  It was pouring with rain at break time so the children had to stay in. Anna was looking for Francesco or Gussie when she was caught by the arm by Doreen and dragged into a corner. Doreen was looking plumper than ever and her ringlets bobbed every time she spoke, but for once she was not giggling.

  “What are you dancing in Miss de Veane’s concert, Anna?”

  Anna felt as if someone was squeezing her inside.

  “I’m not dancing. Miss de Veane knows I cannot dance yet, I must have many years more training.”

  Doreen looked knowing.

  “That’s what you think but I’ll tell you what we think. There’s eight of us, with you, takes private lessons, and yesterday Miss de Veane gave us the designs of our costumes and told us what we were dancing in the fairy ballet. It’s in a fairy wood and I’m a foxglove first and then a dragonfly, and all the others who learn private are flowers or a bee or that. The Saturday class are in groups – primroses and daisies and such. So we asked Miss de Veane who was to be the fairy what wakes all us flowers up and do you know what she said?”

  Anna’s eyes were dark with fright. This was her nightmare coming true.

  “No,” she whispered. “What?”

  “Well, it was not said exactly – more hinted like. She said it was a very small girl who would one day be a beautiful dancer. Well, the only small one she teaches is you and my mum says it isn’t fair. Here’s me learnt since I was four so if anyone is to be picked out it should be me.”

  Anna could not think what to say for she knew that Miss de Veane could be very determined, even determined enough perhaps to make her dance when she did not want to. Then, almost as if he were beside her, she heard Jardek’s whisper in his mixed Polish and English: “Anna, my Anna, you must live for nothing but to dance. Anything which comes between you and true dancing must be forgotten.” In a flash Anna had changed. She was no longer afraid of Miss de Veane. She threw her chin into the air.

  “If you wish to dance this fairy you should ask to do so. There is no thought that I will dance in public nor that I shall learn much longer with Miss de Veane. I am going to learn in London.”

  WILF, THOUGH HE would not have dreamt of saying so, was amazed at the cleverness of Gussie. What an idea, he thought, having got the gnome to put it on the headmaster’s window ledge. But what he admired most was Gussie’s discretion.

  “You mean to say,” he asked, “that you never told young Wally why you wanted his pram?”

  Gussie was surprised.

  “Course not. You said what would happen if I told.”

  “Nor you didn’t tell the Allan twins neither?”

  “Course not. They just thought it was a funny thing to do. Actually it was Jonathan who thought how it would be to put the gnome on the headmaster’s window ledge, and I thought the idea was fine because I couldn’t bring it into the classroom.”

  “And you’re dead sure your uncle won’t guess you done it?”

  “Why should he? He doesn’t know about Wally’s pram so how is he thinking I got the gnome to the school?”

  “But Wally will guess why you wanted ’is pram.”

  Gussie dismissed that with a gesture.

  “If he does he will not tell. He is our friend.”

  Wilf took two fifty-pence pieces from his pocket. He handed them to Gussie.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from. In a day or two I’ll ’ave another job for you. But remember, you never say nothin’ or …”

  Gussie drew his finger across his throa
t with a bloodcurdling noise.

  “Then I am in a ditch being eaten by hyenas.”

  Wilf whistled for one of his friends.

  “Show young Gussie the pass sign. He’s in.”

  Gussie planned his great moment for showing Francesco and Anna his pound carefully. It was so clever of him to have earned it he must make an occasion of showing the other two that he had it. Should he just walk in and throw the money down or should he give it to Anna with a grand gesture, saying: “Here is your dancing-class money.”

  After school Wally joined Gussie.

  “Walk a bit of the way ’ome with me. I want a word with you.”

  Gussie, still very much above himself for his tremendous success with Wilf, was charmed for he was sure Wally was going to tell him how clever and funny he had been, but Wally was not. As they walked along in the rain he suddenly burst out:

  “I don’t know nothin’ about why you wanted the pram ’an I don’t want’er know nothin’ but anyone what joins up with Wilf ’s gang wants ’is ’ead seein’ to.”

  Gussie tried to sound puzzled.

  “How is Wilf’s gang?”

  “Come off it. D’you think nobody don’t see what’s goin’ on? Everybody knows about The Gang though most is too scared to speak up. D’you think I don’t know you was alone with Wilf dinner time? I shouldn’t wonder if taking the gnome up in the pram wasn’t something to do with it.”

  “Why should Wilf want the gnome?”

  Wally was fond of Gussie but just now he could have shaken him.

  “I can’t do no more than warn you like. That Wilf is up to no good, I don’t know what ’e does for I don’t go near ’im and you wouldn’t if you ’ad any sense. I know you want money for Anna’s dancin’ but if you take any from Wilf you’ll be sorry. I know you’re scared to do it but it would be better to ask your uncle.”

  “Him! He will not give, especially for dancing which he says is a sin. Anyway, he has a closed purse.”

  Wally kicked a stone up the road.

  “I don’t know what to say to you. I’ve told you to keep away from Wilf. I can’t do not more not unless I was to tell me mum about you, an’ I can’t do that.”

  Gussie was furious with Wally for trying to spoil his glorious day. He did not want to hear bad things about Wilf for, somewhere pushed away inside him, was a sneaking suspicion that Wally was right.

  “If you want to know, I was only talking to Wilf at dinner time about the gnome. He thought it very funny. And I’ll talk to anybody I like an’ you can’t stop me.”

  As a result of this conversation with Wally, Gussie, instead of bursting with pride, came home cross. All the way home he had muttered to himself Christopher’s favourite saying: “It’s a crying scandal! It’s a crying scandal!” He had no idea what it meant but it sounded good. However, once he was in The Crescent his spirits revived and he jingled his fifty-pence pieces together with pride.

  In the house he rushed up the stairs and flung open his and Francesco’s bedroom door. He was in luck, Anna was in the room. It was his big moment.

  “Anna,” he said. “You can stop fussing. Here is two more lessons and I will have another fifty pence whenever you want it.”

  It was Francesco who answered.

  “Anna will no longer work with Miss de Veane. She says she must go to London to this Madame Scarletti.”

  Could anything be more infuriating? To have succeeded in joining The Gang just to pay for dancing classes. To have stolen a gnome so cleverly and to have made the entire school laugh. To come home with a whole pound just to be told Anna did not want it. This was too much. With a crimson face Gussie turned on Anna.

  “Always there is something. First it is shoes. Then it is classes. Then it is tunic, now you have all except enough money to pay until S’William gets home. Then, when first Francesco and then me get the money, all you say is now you must go to London to this Madame Scarletti. Well, you cannot go, for even if you could see Madame Scarletti once that is all, for how can you go each week to London?”

  Francesco looked anxiously at the door. “Do be quiet, Gussie, or The Uncle will hear and you know he does not like noise. Anna cannot learn from Miss de Veane because she will make her dance as a fairy on a stage in public.”

  “Well, let her be a fairy then. For just one day it will do no harm. But London is impossible.”

  Anna could hear Jardek speaking.

  “You know I cannot dance in public or do anything but exercises. Jardek said …”

  “Jardek said! Jardek said!” Gussie roared. “But Jardek is dead.”

  Francesco turned to Anna. “Gussie’s quite right. If Jardek was here now he would see it is not possible you should go to London.”

  “And he would see you must dance this fairy,” Gussie added.

  The door opened and Aunt Mabel looked in.

  “Oh, please be quiet, dears. I can hear you all over the house. Fortunately your uncle is out, for if he was in he would be most annoyed.” She sidled into the room. “I was going to warn you to be very quiet at supper. Your uncle is angry with the police. He is seeing a superintendent now.”

  There was a moment’s shocked silence. All three children knew about police. Too often had police moved on the caravan. In some countries police would be pacified with money but that was unlikely in Britain.

  “What has The Uncle done?” Francesco asked.

  “Nothing, dear, of course,” Mabel puffed. “It is that gnome. You will have heard about it at school. The police came to find out which way somebody got into the garden.”

  Gussie felt as if cold water was trickling down his spine. “And did they find out?”

  “That’s what your uncle is so angry about. They came so late that the rain had washed away all the marks. There was one chrysanthemum bent but the police did not think that was evidence.”

  Gussie released a deep breath. Francesco said:

  “We will be very careful not to offend at supper.”

  The children did not speak for a moment or two after Mabel had sidled out of the room. Then Francesco said:

  “You had better go to your room, Anna, to get tidy for supper.”Then, when Anna had gone, he turned to Gussie. “I do not know what you are doing but even for Anna’s dancing you should not do what is wrong. Jardek would not wish that.”

  Now that Gussie knew the police had not discovered how he had got into the garden he was his old self again.

  “When you got one pound fifty pence did I say you had done what was wrong? No. But you look at my pound as if I am a thief. Now I will tell you a secret, it was me borrowed the silly old gnome but I did not hurt him so leave me alone.”

  FRANCESCO WAS SO full of worries he began to look quite ill. His biggest worry was Gussie, for Wally had told him about his suspicions.

  “I know he doesn’t look very nice, but what is it bad that this Wilf is doing?”

  Wally tried to explain.

  “Nobody outside his gang don’t know nothin’, not for sure, but he’s always givin’ little kids thin’s to sell.”

  “In Britain that is wrong?” Francesco asked.

  “Course not, if they’re come by honest, but what they say is they’re pinched.” He saw Francesco did not understand. “Stole like.”

  Francesco was shocked.

  “Stole! To steal is a sin.”

  Wally thought he might have exaggerated.

  “If not stole they’re come by funny, what’s called rejects from a factory what someone’s got ’old of. Anyway, you don’t want young Gussie mixed up in anything like that.”

  Francesco agreed fervently. Too well he knew how easily Gussie might get mixed up in something bad, not because he was bad but because, like Christopher, he liked excitement.

  “I do not know what I can do,” he told Wally. “Because I am the eldest, now almost eleven, I can try to look after Gussie and Anna, but it is hard to be Jardek, Babka, Christopher and Olga all together. You see, there is only me n
ow.”

  Wally wondered if he should have bothered Francesco.

  “I wouldn’t get into a state about it. After all, we don’t know, not for certain, about Wilf’s gang. But it wouldn’t do no ’arm to keep an eye open and if you see young Gussie selling anythin’ then you can do somethin’. Maybe go to the headmaster.”

  Go to the headmaster! Francesco classed him with The Uncle. To talk to either was impossible.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said. Then he turned away so that Wally never knew there were tears in Francesco’s eyes.

  Then there was Anna. Anna, so good and gentle until there was interference in her dancing. Francesco did not believe that S’William had let them down. Gussie’s idea that he had stolen their picture was fantastic. On the other hand he certainly was being slow coming home.

  If only S’William would arrive, Francesco thought, it would be as if a great stone rolled off his back, for S’William was the kind of man who took charge and saw no difficulties anywhere. Never would Francesco forget the way he had said to Anna: “Nonsense. You can’t live in a hospital tent for ever. You have been given into my charge for the time being and I don’t intend to let you out of my sight until I see you settled.”

  Of course, from S’William’s point of view, that was just what had happened. He had found them an uncle and an aunt and they had good clothes and, though often nasty, especially cabbage, plenty to eat. All in fact should have been well. How could S’William know that in their school there would be Wilf and his gang? How could he know that Miss de Veane should wish Anna to dance in public? How could he know the trouble he had caused by writing about Madame Scarletti?

  What Francesco supposed had happened was that S’William, for reasons to do with is work, had delayed coming home and, if he thought about them at all, supposed they were safe and well. In any case he might think they were old enough to look after themselves for all their birthdays were near Christmas, which meant he would soon be eleven, Gussie ten and Anna nine. Perhaps in Britain at such ages you were no longer considered a child.