Tennis Shoes

  Arrived home, she strutted in at the gate. She ran up the steps. She banged the front door. She marched into the dining-room. Everybody was having tea. She stood in the doorway.

  ‘Of all the miserable families, you’re the most miserablest. I should have thought anybody would have been enough interested to see whether I won or not to wait five minutes for their tea. Everybody else’s families watch their family play.’ Her voice choked with self-pity. Agag came up to her with wagging tail. He gave her shoe a friendly nip as if to say: ‘Welcome home.’

  ‘Agag,’ said David severely. ‘Where’s your sense of decency? Come and sit down. You don’t want to know a person like that.’

  Dr. Heath looked at Nicky over his cup. Then he put it down.

  ‘Would you like to hear what I’ve got to say now, or after you’ve had your tea?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think that anything that any of you’ve got to say would be much good,’ said Nicky. ‘But I’ll hear the apology now.’

  ‘Apology!’ Dr. Heath’s voice was very quiet. ‘I never thought that any child of mine could disgrace us all as you disgraced us this afternoon.’

  ‘Me!’ gasped Nicky. ‘Why, I won.’

  ‘None of us,’ her father went on, more quietly than ever, ‘is in the least interested whether you won or lost. What we are interested in is that you gave one of the worst displays of bad manners that we have ever seen on a court.’

  Nicky flushed.

  ‘Do you mean because I threw my racket down? Is that what all the fuss is about?’

  Dr. Heath nodded.

  ‘You served a double fault, lost your temper, stamped, threw your racket on the grass. The next time I see you lose your temper on the courts, you don’t play again. Going on as you are, the day may likely come when you’ll be offered hospitality for tournaments. No child of mine is going to become one of those bad-mannered tennis players, giving displays of temper all over the countryside. Making the people who are kind enough to put them up ashamed to have them under the roof. It may even be that some day you may represent your country. After the display we saw this afternoon, I quite hope you won’t. Your manners have to be perfect on a tennis-court in your own country, but overseas they have to be more than that. I’d rather burn your rackets now than run the risk of your being sufficiently good a player to play for your country and join the ranks of those who, however good their play, have brought disrepute on the British Isles by their manners on the court and off it.’

  ‘But——’ Nicky interrupted.

  ‘It’s all I have to say.’ Dr. Heath took up his cup again. ‘The next time I see the slightest hint of bad manners from you on any court, your playing is finished. You understand?’

  Nicky nodded. She pulled out her chair and sat down at the table. She looked round. She saw that all the others were a mixture of sorry for her and pleased that she had won. She helped herself to a piece of bread and butter. She took a bite. Then she grinned at her father.

  ‘Miss N. Heath, the pocket star, is very grieved. It won’t occur again.’

  Nicky shot through that summer in a blaze of glory. The mere sight of her brought despair into the hearts of other junior competitors. She picked up so many cups that she had to throw away her musical instruments. The caterpillars had to live on top of the cups. Soon her eleven animals would have to move, she was getting so crushed for space. Susan said that if it was to make room for cups she did not mind lending the top of her bookshelf. But she was not lending space while eleven animals (that a girl of almost fourteen was too old to have anyway) were using it, not to mention a lot of caterpillars messing up the place. When the animals were all given away, she said, and the caterpillars given up, she would see what she could do.

  Although nobody said so, all the family were full of hope that Nicky might do well in the Junior Hard Court Championship that Christmas. It was not to be supposed that she would win it—she was several years younger than any holder had ever been—but she had been a finalist in the Junior County Championship and she had picked up a lot of pots that summer, and her play had improved. She might manage to get into the semi-final round, which at her age would be remarkable and fill them all with pride.

  Nicky herself never said a word about her chances. She never did discuss them. For one thing, none of the family knew about the feeling she got when an audience was with her. A feeling of being lit up inside, able to do anything, of being carried beyond herself.

  Nicky was not the only interest in the Junior Hard Court Championship, for they all entered. David startled everybody. He knocked out a boy of about sixteen in the first round. He played abominably in his second match.

  ‘Just as well,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Two rounds are quite enough for me with my play coming on.’ He was singing in a children’s play in aid of charity at the end of the holidays.

  Susan and Jim startled themselves and everybody else by not being knocked out of the mixed doubles until the semi-final round. They were both a bit embarrassed. They thought they had gone rather beyond themselves and were causing too much attention. They were quite glad when the match was over and they could slink away out of sight. All being red-headed and relations of Nicky’s made them, they considered, far too noticeable anyway.

  Nicky was only entered for the singles. She was on the top of her form and played her way through steadily. Her family came and watched every match. They pretended not to care, but of course they were bursting with pride really.

  After the semi-final round, which Nicky won, Jeffrey Miller came over to Dr. Heath.

  ‘Exciting for you, producing a player like that. Has the makings of the best woman we’ve bred in this country. Makes me nervous, though, when they’re good so young. Afraid it may be just a flash of genius; that she’ll outgrow it.’

  Dr. Heath nodded.

  ‘We’re doing what we can to prevent that, by laying a very solid foundation of training.’

  ‘Incredibly advanced for something that size. Odd to see a baby use her brains like that. It’s going to be a wonderful thing for the country if your Nicolette keeps on as she is now. America has had her Alice Marble, and France her Lenglen. I’d like to see us with an unbeatable woman.’ He moved off. ‘Well, here’s to the day when she is old enough for Wimbledon. I’m taking bets on her myself.’

  After he had gone they all went down to the hall to wait for Nicky. At that moment Pinny came dashing through the club door.

  ‘Oh, doctor, a telegram! It came over the telephone. I thought it less upsetting to come myself than to ring you up. Your father has had an accident. The dog-cart bolted. They say, would you go there at once.’

  Dr. Heath looked at his watch.

  ‘I don’t believe there’s a train. I’d better go by car.’

  Mrs. Heath nodded.

  ‘Just stop at the house for a second while we pack some things.’

  He looked down at her, surprised.

  ‘We? You don’t want to come?’

  She looked at him exactly as she looked at the children when they talked nonsense.

  ‘Of course I’m coming.’ She turned to Susan. ‘Susan, dear, find Nicky and tell her we’ve had to go. I expect she’d like all of you to wait and walk back with her.’

  Nicky, with her hair sticking to her forehead, had just had a shower. She was beginning to change. Susan told her what had happened.

  ‘Goodness!’ Nicky’s eyes filled with tears. ‘How awful! Do you suppose he’s bad? I mean, is he going to die?’

  ‘I don’t expect so,’ Susan said as firmly as she could, although she felt the gravest misgivings inside. ‘Dad will telephone to-night, I expect, and let us know.’

  Nicky gave her a push.

  ‘Well, go on! See that you make him promise to telephone. None of you wait for me. I’m awfully hot. I don’t want to hurry. I’m going to have tea here. I’ll come home presently.’

  Nicky finished changing. She had tea with her late opponent. Then she decided to walk ho
me. She thought about grandfather. She did hope he was not badly hurt. It would be the most miserable thing if he was. She turned gloomily into their road. Then she stopped. Round the corner came a man pushing a barrow. At the end of the barrow were balloons and those paper things that spin round. As he came nearer she could see that on the barrow were jam-jars, some old clothes, and three umbrellas. It was at the umbrellas that Nicky stared. She hurried up the road towards the barrow. She stood in front of the man.

  ‘Do you remember me?’

  ‘No, miss.’ The man stopped his barrow. ‘Can’t say as I do.’

  ‘I remember you very well,’ Nicky said sternly, ‘and a very nasty memory it is. You are the man who gave me one and a penny for all the umbrellas in the umbrella-stand. Four there were. They were worth an awful lot really.’

  ‘Were they now?’ The man scratched his head. ‘Four umbrellas, did you say? When was this, miss? I can’t bring it to mind.’

  ‘Years and years ago,’ said Nicky. ‘When I was little.’

  ‘Oh!’ The man shook his head. ‘Years and years ago. Never ’arbour a grievance. That’s what I said to the copper what come poking his nose round my shop. “What are you lookin’ for?” I said. “There’s nothing here what shouldn’t be.” “If there isn’t,” he says to me, “it’ll be about the first time.” So I holds up a finger at him. “Young man,” I says, “that’s ’arbouring a grievance, that is.”’

  Nicky looked at him in disgust.

  ‘You’d have harboured a grievance if you’d been me. Do you know that I had no birthday presents from my father and mother for two years? And no Christmas presents for two years? Instead, they kept putting an umbrella back in the stand.’

  ‘Did they now?’ The man made shocked clicking noises. ‘Unfeeling, that was.’

  ‘And what was more,’ said Nicky, ‘it was in a good cause I wanted the money. It was for the tennis house.’

  ‘The tennis house?’ He looked puzzled.

  Nicky lolled against the barrow.

  ‘Oh, you wouldn’t know about that. It’s a house made of silver. It’s about this high.’ She held her hands apart to give a suggestion of the height. ‘It has a chimney that pulls down, and under it is a slot. We keep the house on the drawing-room mantelpiece and everybody puts everything into it they can. It’s to pay for the extra things for tennis. That’s why it’s called the tennis house. I owed it one and a penny when I saw you last, and you were mean enough only to give me that for four umbrellas.’

  The man gave her a warning look.

  ‘Now, now, no ’arbouring a grievance. That’s what we said. Have you got anything you want to sell to-day? I might give you a good price.’

  ‘If I had I wouldn’t sell it to you. If you’re cheated once, you expect to be cheated again. As a matter of fact I’m much too worried to-day to think of money. We’ve just had a telegram. Grandfather’s had an accident. Mother and father have gone off in the car to see how he is.’

  The man put on a grave expression as of somebody going to a funeral.

  ‘That’s bad. I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe a little ready would take your mind off your troubles.’

  ‘It wouldn’t,’ said Nicky. ‘Besides, as a matter of fact the tennis house is very full just now. There’s nearly six pounds in it. That’s because of our Christmas money, and some jumpers Pinny knitted, and some money daddy had from a grateful patient as a Christmas present.’

  ‘Six pounds!’ The man looked impressed. ‘My, that’s a lot of money! Well, I must be toddling.’ He picked up his barrow and pushed it slowly up the road.

  Nicky was cold from standing still. She ran the rest of the way home. The umbrella man stopped and put down his barrow. He turned to look after Nicky. He watched her open the gate of the house and disappear. Then he seemed to change his mind. He turned his barrow round. He pushed it back the way he had come. He stopped a moment outside the Heaths’ house. His face was thoughtful.

  The telephone call about grandfather came through while they were having supper. Annie was feeling very sorry for them all and had made them an especially nice supper, but none of them could eat it. The house felt miserable without their father and mother, and every time they thought about grandfather they got a sinking feeling inside. When the telephone bell rang, they all got up and ran to answer it. It was Jim who got there first. He picked up the receiver. The others stood round and listened.

  ‘Hallo, old man!’ Dr. Heath sounded quite cheerful. ‘Things are not so bad. Grandfather has broken his leg. We’ve got him into a nursing-home at Salisbury. He’s just been X-rayed. It’s not too bad a break. The first thing he asked about was how Nicky was doing in the match. He wants us to get back in time to see her play to-morrow. I can’t say for certain if we shall be able to do that. I must wait about to see if there are likely to be complications from the shock, but tell Nicky we shall do our best to be there.’

  ‘Do you mean,’ Jim asked, ‘that honestly grandfather is not really bad?’

  ‘Honestly. It’s a straightforward break. There’s no reason on earth why he shouldn’t be completely himself in a couple of months.’

  The three-minute time signal clicked across their conversation.

  ‘Good-bye, old man.’

  ‘Good-bye, dad.’

  They were all so glad to know that grandfather had only broken his leg and was not going to die that they changed their minds about eating supper. They ate up all there was, and then got Annie to give them some cold plum-pudding as well. After that they settled down to a game. They played until nine. Pinny came in every two minutes to say it was a disgrace and David ought to be in bed, but he said, if she held the cards that he did she wouldn’t even think of bed. However, at nine up he had to go, and a quarter of an hour later Nicky went too. Then at half-past Jim and Susan decided they were sleepy. By eleven everybody in the house was asleep.

  It was two o’clock in the morning when Jim heard the noise. He and David slept over the drawing-room. Some sound had woken him. He sat up. Whatever could it be? Was it Agag in the flower room? Had he barked? Then suddenly he grew stiff. There was the noise again. It was a window opening. Very quietly he got out of bed. He pulled on his dressing-gown. Somebody was certainly opening a window downstairs. He tied the cord round his waist and in doing so the tassel flicked across David’s face in the other bed. David grumbled. He moved. In a second Jim was leaning over him. He put his hand over his mouth.

  ‘Ssh! Don’t make a sound!’

  David sat up.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked sleepily.

  ‘Somebody is in the house,’ Jim explained. ‘They are opening the drawing-room window. I’m going down to see who it is.’

  ‘Oh, goo’ness!’ David got out of bed. At once he put on the manner he thought a detective should wear. He slithered into his dressing-gown so quietly that even Jim hardly heard him. ‘Ought we to disguise ourselves?’ he whispered.

  ‘Don’t be a fool,’ said Jim. ‘You had much better stop up here. No good a whole lot of us getting mixed up in it.’

  David crept over towards the door.

  ‘Don’t be a fool yourself,’ he retorted. ‘If there’s burglars do you think I’m going to miss them?’ He listened. ‘I do hope Agag hasn’t been drugged. I can’t think why he isn’t barking.’

  Jim did not bother to answer. He began very cautiously turning the handle of the door.

  It’s extraordinary how stairs that never have a sound in them in the daytime creak at night. Every stair made its moan. Jim and David slipped down into the hall.

  They walked on tiptoe to the drawing-room. They listened. At first they heard nothing. Then they heard a slight noise. It was as though someone were moving about inside and had run into a chair. Then there was a chink.

  David looked at Jim.

  ‘That’s the tennis house.’

  Jim leant down to him.

  ‘That means whoever it is is over by the mantelpiece. Do you think, if I open the
door, you could slip in first and turn on the lights? I want to make straight at him.’

  ‘Couldn’t you turn on the lights and me do the tackling?’ David suggested.

  Jim thought this idea not worth answering. He laid his hand on the door handle. He turned it softly.

  ‘Ready?’

  He flung the door open. David was on the lights in a second. For one moment they were blinded. Then they saw a man, in a mask and gloves, running for the window. In a moment Jim was after him. He dived at him and caught him by the knees. The man crashed to the floor on his face. The tennis house, which was in his hand, rolled away under a chair. David picked up a cushion off the sofa. He put it firmly on the man’s head and sat down on it.

  There is nothing more difficult to do than to get up when somebody is sitting on your head, especially when you are half suffocated by a cushion. Jim did not think it was an artistic way to treat a burglar, but it was a good idea, so he sat down on the small of the man’s back. It was not easy for either Jim or David to remain seated, as the man thrashed about cursing and trying to free himself.

  ‘My goo’ness!’ said David, tossing from side to side. ‘What do we do now? Do we sit here all night?’

  ‘I don’t think we can,’ Jim gasped.

  He was quite right, for at that moment the man reared up and threw David off him, then, the moment his head was free, he rolled over and seized hold of Jim. David looked round for the best thing with which to help. At Eastbourne he was being taught how to box. But all he had learnt at boxing was no good to him now, because the part of the man that he could reach as he and Jim rolled over and over was below the belt, and therefore outside his boxing instructions. Instead, he threw himself at one of the legs and held on to it with his teeth. The man let out a squawk, but David clung on.

  At that moment the door opened and Pinny came in. If Jim and David had not been so busy they would have laughed. Pinny had on a red flannel dressing-gown, her hair was done up in curling-pins, round her shoulders was a pink woolly shawl. She had taken out her artificial teeth for the night, so she did not speak very well.