Ballet Shoes

  ‘Garnie,’ said Pauline, ‘do you think you are going to like having boarders ?’

  ‘I shan’t.’ Petrova screwed in a tiny nut. ‘Houses is meant for families, not for strangers.’

  Pauline wriggled excitedly on her chair.

  ‘I shall like Miss Dane. Oh, Garnie, she has such a lovely gramophone!’

  Petrova looked up.

  ‘I shall like Mr and Mrs Simpson best, because of their car.’

  Pauline nodded at Sylvia.

  ‘You’ll have to like the poor doctors, then; it’s mean they shouldn’t be liked by anybody.’

  ‘I shall like all the boarders,’ Sylvia said firmly, ‘because they are going to pay enough money to help me to bring you up properly.’ She opened the book. ‘Do you remember where we had got to last time ?’

  CHAPTER III

  The Fossil Family Makes A Vow

  PAULINE had a cold, and she was left at home when Nana took Petrova and Posy for their walk. She was in that state of having a cold when nothing is very nice to do. Sylvia had got her a piece of linen and some coloured thread, and she could have started on the dressing-table cover she was going to give Nana for her birthday. Cook had invited her to come to the kitchen and make toffee. Clara brought in a page of transfers, and suggested she stuck them on a book to ‘Give to a poor child in hospital.’ Nana, who remembered how one felt with colds, gave her some brass polish and the sets of brass out of the dolls’ house.

  ‘I expect those to shine when we get in,’ she said firmly. ‘Much better to have something to do. No good sitting around thinking how miserable you feel.’

  The last being an order, and as Nana expected things done when she said they were to be, Pauline finished them first. She found them quite fun to do, but she worked at them so hard that in half an hour they could not shine more than they did. Pauline put them back in the dolls’ house, and thought for a moment of rearranging the drawing-room, but decided it would not be any fun without the others. She looked at the clock and wished it was tea-time, but it was only three. She took out the linen, and even threaded a bit of thread; but somehow she did not feel sewish, so she put it back in her drawer. She decided as there was not anything else to do she had better go and make toffee; but she felt hot, and not very much like eating toffee, and what is the fun of making toffee unless you want to eat it. She sat down on the landing of the second floor and sniffed and thought how beastly colds were. At that moment the door behind her opened and a head popped out. It had a shawl round it, and for a moment Pauline was not sure who it was. Then she recognized that it was one of the lady doctors — the one whose surname was Jakes. Doctor Jakes looked at Pauline.

  ‘My dear child, what are you doing there by yourself?’

  ‘I’b god a coad,’ Pauline explained stuffily, for she had come down without her handkerchief. ‘And the others hab god out withoud me, and I habbent god edythig to do.’

  Doctor Jakes laughed.

  ‘You sound as though you have got a cold. So have I, as a matter of fact. Come in. I’ve got a lovely fire, and I’ll lend you a large silk handkerchief, and I’ll give you some ginger drink which is doing me good.’

  Pauline came in at once. She liked the sound of the whole of the invitation. Besides, she had not seen the inside of the two doctors’ rooms since they had been boarders’ rooms instead of homes for Gum’s fossils. As a matter of fact, this one had changed so she felt it was a new room altogether. It had owned a rather shabby wall-paper; but when the boarder idea started it was distempered a sort of pale primrose all over. But the primrose hardly showed now, for the whole walls were covered with books.

  ‘My goodness!’ said Pauline, walking round and blowing her nose on the scarlet silk handkerchief Doctor Jakes provided. ‘You must read an awful lot. We have a big book-shelf in the nursery, but that’s for all of us and Nana. Fancy all these just for you!’

  Doctor Jakes came over to the shelves.

  ‘Literature is my subject.’

  ‘Is it? Is that what you’re a doctor of?’

  ‘More or less. But apart from that, books are very ornamental things to have about.’

  Pauline looked at the shelves. These books certainly were grand-looking — all smooth shiny covers, and lots of gold on them.

  ‘Ours aren’t very,’ she said frankly. ‘Yours are more all one size. We have things next to each other like Peter Rabbit and Just So Stories, and they don’t match very well.’

  ‘No, but very good reading.’

  Pauline came to the fire. It was a lovely fire; she stood looking at the logs on it.

  ‘Do you think Peter Rabbit good reading? I would have thought a person who taught literature was too grand for it.’

  ‘Not a bit — very old friend of mine.’

  Pauline looked at the shawl.

  ‘Why do you wear that round your head?’

  ‘Because I had earache with my cold. Have you got earache with yours?’

  ‘No. Just my nose.’

  Pauline remembered the ginger drink, and looked round for it. Doctor Jakes remembered it at the same time. She put on the kettle.

  ‘Sit down. This drink is made with boiling water, and takes quite a time. Have you a holiday from school because of your cold?’

  Pauline explained that they did not go to Cromwell House any more, and why.

  ‘You see,’ she said, ‘Gum said he’d be back in five years, and he isn’t.’

  ‘And who exactly is Gum?’

  Doctor Jakes poured things out of various bottles into two glasses.

  Pauline hugged her knees.

  ‘Well, he’s called Gum because he’s Garnie’s Great-Uncle Matthew. He isn’t really a great uncle of ours, because we haven’t any relations. I was rescued off a ship, Petrova is an orphan from Russia, and Posy’s father is dead, and her mother couldn’t afford to have her, so we’ve made ourselves into sisters. We’ve called ourselves Fossil because that’s what Gum called us. He brought us back instead of them, you see.’

  ‘I see. Rather exciting choosing your own name and your own relations.’

  ‘Yes.’ Pauline saw that the kettle was nearly boiling and looked hopefully at the glasses. ‘We almost didn’t choose Posy to be a Fossil. She was little and stupid then, but she’s all right now.’

  Doctor Jakes got up and took the kettle off the fire and poured the water on the mixture in the glasses. At once there was the most lovely hot sweet smell. Pauline sniffed.

  ‘That smells good.’

  Doctor Jakes put the tumblers into silver frames with handles, and passed one to Pauline.

  ‘I do envy you. I should think it an adventure to have a name like that, and sisters by accident. The three of you might make the name of Fossil really important, really worth while, and if you do, it’s all your own. Now, if I make Jakes really worth while, people will say I take after my grandfather or something.’

  Pauline sipped her drink. It was very hot, but simply heavenly — the sort of drink certain to make a cold feel better. She looked across at Doctor Jakes over the rim of the glass, her eyes shining.

  ‘Do you suppose me and Petrova and Posy could make Fossil an important sort of name?’

  ‘Of course. Making your name worth while is a very nice thing to do; it means you must have given distinguished service to your country in some way.’

  Pauline gave another gulp at her drink. She frowned thoughtfully.

  ‘I don’t think we do the things that make names important. I sew, and Petrova’s awfully good at works of things — she can mend clocks and she knows heaps about aeroplanes and motor-cars. Posy doesn’t do much yet.’

  ‘There’s time. You probably won’t develop a talent till you are fourteen or fifteen. Are you good at lessons?’

  ‘Well, we were. Petrova was very good at sums, and I said poetry the best in the class; but it’s different now we learn with Garnie. You know, she has to teach Posy too, and she has to do the baby things, like learning her letters
and it takes a lot of time. Petrova does sums well still, but Garnie just puts R.R.R; she never teaches her a new one. I say poetry sometimes, but not very often now.’

  ‘What sort of poetry do you like?’

  ‘All sorts. We learnt “Oh to be in England” and “The Ancient Mariner”, and I had just started “Hiawatha”.’

  ‘Do you ever learn any Shakespeare?’

  ‘No. I should have started “As You Lake It” the next term if I had stayed at Cromwell House.’

  ‘You should learn him. He wrote a few good parts for children. If you are fond of reciting, that’s the stuff to work at.’ She went over to her shelves and picked out a book, and opened it. ‘Listen.’

  She read the scene in ‘King John’ between Prince Arthur and Hubert. Pauline did not understand it all, but Doctor Jakes was one of those people who really can read out loud. Pauline forgot to drink her ginger, and instead, listened so hard that at last Doctor Jakes vanished, and in her place she saw a cowering little boy pleading for his eyes.

  ‘There.’ Doctor Jakes closed the book. ‘Learn that. Learn to play Prince Arthur so that we cringe at the hot irons just as he does, and then you can talk about reciting.’ She got another book, found the place and passed it to Pauline. ‘You read me that.’

  It was Puck’s speech which begins ‘Fairy, thou speak’st aright.’ Pauline had never seen it before, and she halted over some of the words, but she got a remarkable amount of the feeling of Puck into it. When she had finished, Doctor Jakes nodded at her in a pleased way.

  ‘Good! We’ll read some more one day. I’ll make a Shakespearean of you.’

  Pauline heard the front door slam and got up.

  ‘There’s the others, I must go. Thank you very much for the ginger drink.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ Doctor Jakes did not look up; she was studying ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. ‘Don’t forget, it’s fun having a name with no background. Tell the other Fossils.’

  After tea Pauline told Petrova and Posy what Doctor Jakes had said. Petrova was most impressed.

  ‘Do you think she meant we could make it a name in history books?’

  Pauline was not sure.

  ‘She didn’t exactly say history books, but I think that’s what she meant. She said making your name worth while means you must have given distinguished service to your country.’

  Petrova’s eyes shone.

  ‘How lovely if we could! Fancy people learning about us as lessons! Let’s make a vow to make Fossil a name like that.’

  Pauline looked serious.

  ‘A real vow, do you mean, like at christenings?’

  ‘Yes.’ Petrova hopped, she was so excited. ‘Like “promise and vow three things…”’

  What about her?’ Pauline pointed at Posy, who, not understanding the conversation, was dressing her Teddy bear.

  ‘Posy’ — Petrova knelt down beside her —’do you know what making a vow is?’

  ‘No.’ Posy held out a little pair of blue trousers. These don’t fit Teddy any more.’

  Pauline took Teddy and his clothes from her.

  ‘You must listen, Posy,’ she said in a very grown-up voice. ‘This is important. A vow is a promise; it’s a thing when you’ve made it you’ve got to do it. Do you understand ?’

  ‘Yes.’ Posy held out her hand. ‘Give me Teddy.’

  ‘No.’ Petrova took her hand. ‘Not till we’ve finished the vowing.’ She turned to Pauline. ‘You say it, and Posy and I will hold up our hands and say “We vow”.’

  Pauline put both her feet together and folded her hands.

  ‘We three Fossils,’ she said in a church voice, ‘vow to try and put our names in history books because it’s our very own and nobody can say it’s because of our grandfathers.’

  She made a face at Petrova, who hurriedly held up her right arm, and grabbed Posy’s and held it up too.

  ‘We vow.’ She said this so low down in her inside that it sounded terribly impressive, then she whispered to Posy ‘Go on, say “We vow”.’

  We vow.’

  Posy tried to say it in the same deep voice as Petrova, but she did it wrong, and it sounded rather like a cat meowing. This made them all laugh, and the big vowing, instead of ending seriously, found them laughing so much that they fell on the floor, and their tummies ached.

  Pauline was the first to recover.

  ‘Oh, we oughtn’t to have laughed!’ She wiped her eyes. ‘But, Posy, you did sound silly!’ She gave another gurgle. ‘Shall we make this same vow over again on each of our birthdays?’

  ‘Let’s,’ agreed Petrova. ‘It’ll make our birthdays so important.’

  ‘We vow,’ Posy said in exactly the same meow.

  This time they could not stop laughing, and they were still giggling when it was time to go down to be read to by Sylvia.

  Boarders had not settled Sylvia’s troubles. It was quite obvious that children with no certain future ought to be brought up with the kind of education that meant they could earn their own living later on. The kind of education that she was able to give them could not, as fax as she could see, fit them for anything. She kept this worry to herself, but it was such a bad one it kept her awake at nights.

  Then one day she had three visitors. The first two came after lunch. She had just sat down to read the paper when there was a knock on her door. She was feeling very tired, for planning food for a lot of boarders as well as giving three children lessons is tiring. She was not in the mood to see anybody; but if you take in boarders you have to put up with seeing them when you do not want to, so she said ‘Come in’ as politely as she could. It was the two doctors — Doctor Jakes and Doctor Smith. Doctor Jakes wasted no time.

  ‘My dear,’ she said, sitting down in an armchair facing Sylvia. ‘I doubt if you are qualified to teach those children.’

  Sylvia flushed.

  ‘I’m not,’ she agreed humbly.

  ‘That’s what we thought.’ Doctor Smith drew up a small chair and sat down next to Doctor Jakes. ‘But, you see, we are.’

  ‘Yes.’ Sylvia fiddled with her fingers. ‘I know you are, but I can’t pay anybody who is.’

  ‘We thought that too.’ Doctor Smith looked at Doctor Jakes. ‘You tell her.’

  Doctor Jakes cleared her throat.

  ‘We should like to teach them. For nothing.’

  ‘For nothing! Why?’ asked Sylvia.

  ‘Why not?’ said Doctor Smith.

  ‘But they’re not your children,’ Sylvia protested.

  ‘Nor yours,’ Doctor Jakes suggested.

  ‘Mine by adoption,’ Sylvia said firmly.

  ‘Mayn’t we help?’ Doctor Jakes leant forward. ‘We thought we should like to retire. It would give us time for research, but we find we miss our teaching. Pauline has a beautiful ear for verse-speaking, I shall enjoy training her.’

  ‘Mathematics is my subject,’ Doctor Smith explained. ‘I hear Petrova is fond of mathematics.’

  Sylvia looked at Doctor Smith as though she were an angel.

  ‘You teach arithmetic?’ Her voice was awed. ‘You are offering to teach the children?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Both the doctors spoke at once.

  ‘I think Heaven must have sent you to this house. I accept your offer more gratefully than I can say.’ Sylvia turned to Doctor Smith. ‘Would you mind starting tomorrow? I simply can’t give another arithmetic lesson.’

  The two doctors got up.

  ‘Yes, tomorrow,’ Doctor Jakes agreed. ‘All-round education, specializing in mathematics and literature. The children to be prepared to take the school certificate and matriculation.’

  That night after dinner Sylvia had her third visitor. It was Theo Dane. She knocked, and at the same time popped her head round the drawing-room door.

  ‘Can I come in? I want a word with you.’ She did not wait for permission, but came in, and sat down on the floor at Sylvia’s feet. ‘You know I teach dancing at the Children’s Academy of Dancing and Sta
ge Training?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sylvia went on stitching at the curtains she was hemming.

  ‘The head is Madame Fidolia. She was a big dancer in the years before the 1914 war.’

  Sylvia did not know the name, but it seemed rude to say so, so she gave a sort of half cough, half yes.

  ‘Well,’ Theo went on, ‘I spoke to her today about your three. She’ll have them.’

  ‘Have them?’ Sylvia looked puzzled. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Teach them. Take them as pupils.’

  ‘But I couldn’t pay the fees.’

  ‘She’ll take them free. I told her about them, and what a time you were having, and she’ll train them. She’ll hope to make something out of them later when they’re working.’

  ‘Working! What at?’

  ‘On the stage. It’s a stage school.’

  Sylvia’s mouth opened.

  ‘But I don’t want the children to go on the stage.’

  ‘Why not?’ Theo half got up in her earnestness. ‘Posy has the making of a real dancer. I’ve tried her out to my gramophone. Pauline is lovely to look at, and she has a good sense of rhythm.’

  ‘Do you mean they should earn money at it?’

  ‘Of course. They have no parents or relations; it’s a good thing they should have a career.’

  ‘But I’m instead of parents and relations.’

  ‘But suppose you were run over by a bus. Wouldn’t it be a good thing if they were trained to help support themselves?’

  ‘But there’s my Great-Uncle Matthew, they are really his wards.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘On a voyage,’ Sylvia explained, and then added, ‘He’s been on it for some years.’

  ‘Quite,’ agreed Theo, obviously considering Gum as somebody so unlikely to appear as to matter no more than a ghost. ‘Well, what do you say? Isn’t it a good idea ?’

  Sylvia looked worried.

  ‘I don’t think Nana would approve; and then there are the doctors upstairs. They are going to educate them. What’ll they say?’

  ‘That’s easy,’ said Theo. ‘Let’s have them all down and ask them.’