Francie: Off to London

  “Oh, golly, but it will be fun to get back,” sighed Francie.

  “It’ll be fun having you back,” said Glenn emphatically. “It’s not the same without you. Say, though, you look fine, except for that gosh-awful outfit. Younger somehow.”

  “Is that good? I must be perfectly terrible to look at. Nothing done to my hair in weeks, and no makeup.”

  “You look okay,” he said heartily. “Say, do you know you’re beginning to talk sort of Englishy? You are, honestly. ‘Frightful dress,’” he said, mimicking her tone. “You’ll probably start a new style of speech in Jefferson.”

  Francie shrieked with laughter, conscious that Penny was watching her with indulgent amusement when she wasn’t chattering with Bob in the back seat of the car. It was easy to forget for the moment that they weren’t in America where there were no Miss Maitlands to return to, and no Cinderella-like rush to be home on time.

  When they reached the beach it was necessary to drive a little farther than they had expected, in order to find a café open. It was still rather early in the season and most of the places were closed and boarded up, but at last they found a teashop that would serve them, and there they sat for a long time, eating stale cakes and ice cream, and drinking tea.

  “This is terrible stuff,” said Glenn, looking at his plate with disfavor. “Do they feed you like this everywhere in England?”

  “Now don’t start talking about double malteds,” said Penny warningly. “It’s an old joke here, the way you Americans begin to long for your soda fountains. Francie’s a little better than she was, but for a while she was a great trial to all of us.”

  “That’s what I say,” added Bob. He spoke with deadly seriousness. “You ought to take things the way you find them in foreign countries, Glenn. What will these people think of us if we go criticizing everything about them just because it’s not like home?”

  “Hear, hear,” said Francie, applauding. “Shame on you, Glenn!”

  Bob looked puzzled by their laughter until Penny explained: “We’re only pulling your leg. I lived in America myself, so I don’t really mind a little harmless yearning for a chocolate soda.”

  “To tell the truth, it’s all a lot better than we’d been led to expect. I thought I’d be really hungry by this time,” said Glenn.

  “Oh no, it’s not so bad. There’s food enough to eat. Only it’s stodgy, most of the time, and pretty much the same every day,” said Francie, “and naturally people who keep house get tired of planning and contriving. You see it’s like being poor all the time, with no hope of it getting any better, at least not for a long while. When you’re poor in America you’ve always got the saving hope that tomorrow you just might, miraculously, strike it rich. Nobody in England feels like that.”

  “There aren’t any miracles in England, eh?” asked Bob. “I see. I don’t know as I’d like that. How do most of you feel about it?”

  Penny, to whom he addressed his question, said, “We’ve never believed as much in miracles as Americans do. I suppose we feel we’ve got to pull through, that’s all. We’ve always done it and we feel we ought to keep on trying.”

  “Kind of a grim outlook,” said Glenn soberly. “Take it all in all, I guess Europe’s no picnic. That’s about the size of it.”

  All four young people were grave and silent for a little. Penny suddenly noted the café clock and exclaimed in dismay. “Francie! Do look at the time. We’ll never be back in Farham in time for that bus!”

  Francie’s hand fluttered to her mouth in alarm. Already it was nearly five o’clock. They all looked at each other, wondering what they should do about the predicament.

  “I could get you back to the school, but it’s bound to be a little late,” suggested Glenn. “Would anyone notice?”

  “We’d be half an hour late. They’d be sure to notice,” said Francie. “Wait a minute, let me think.” She covered her eyes with her hands and sat as if in a trance, while the others respectfully waited. “I know,” she said at last, taking her hands down. “I’ll manage. Just leave it to me.”

  Penny looked dubious, but said nothing while Francie asked the waitress where she could find a telephone. There was a public one, said the waitress, in a little booth just down the beach and across the road. Francie collected loose change from the boys and hurried out the door purposefully.

  “What’s she going to do?” asked Glenn.

  “I don’t know,” said Penny in worried tones. “I hope she’s not getting in too deep.”

  “But you’ll get into trouble too, won’t you?” Bob asked.

  “Oh well …” Her voice trailed off. The boys looked at her in respectful silence, but they had no idea of how deeply terrified she was. Penny had too much self-control for that.

  Francie returned after a little while and nodded in a reassuring manner at her friend. “It’s all right for the moment,” she said, picking up another cake. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “How did you fix it? What did you say?” asked Penny tensely.

  “Oh, I talked to Ella.” Ella was the maid. “I didn’t have to say much, fortunately, because the girl at the switchboard didn’t tell them at the other end where I was calling from. You know they sometimes do; she just asked if that was the Fair-fields number, and said, ‘Wait a minute,’ and said to me, ‘Fourpence please,’ and I think Ella’s too dumb to notice that fourpence is too much for a strictly local call.”

  “Yes,” said Penny, “but just what did you say? You didn’t lie, did you?”

  “Of course I didn’t lie,” said Francie, with indignation in her tones. “I only didn’t tell the whole truth. I said we were awfully sorry but we’d missed the bus, and would she tell somebody, please, and we’d get some supper and be along later.”

  Penny didn’t speak until Bob said, “Do you think you can get by with that?”

  “No,” Penny said, “I don’t think so. There’s going to be a row.”

  “I must say, you’re awfully calm about it.” He looked curiously at her pale face.

  “Sufficient unto the day,” said Francie, waving a macaroon in the air. “The thing is, I’m so awfully fed up I don’t much care, and Penny feels the same way for reasons of her own. Do you know, they tried to stop me seeing you boys at all?”

  “No fooling!” Glenn had to hear the whole story then, and Francie retailed it with enthusiasm.

  “So you see, I’ve burned my boats, or if I haven’t it doesn’t really make the slightest difference,” she finished recklessly. “I couldn’t care less.”

  “What about Penny, though?” demanded Bob. “She’s got more to lose, it seems to me. We’re not her old friends from America.”

  They looked expectantly at the English girl, who only shook her head.

  “Penny’s backing me up,” insisted Francie. “Still, maybe we’d better be more careful from now on, and get home pretty early.”

  A spin in the country, perhaps a stop somewhere for a sandwich, and back to school before nine o’clock would give them plenty of time to prepare for what would certainly be an ordeal of explanations, they decided. “Though if we just say we took a car back,” said Francie, “they may not probe further. I should think it most unlikely they’d make too much fuss; we’re big girls now, even in their estimation. Oh, never mind. Let’s forget about it now and just have fun.”

  Penny swallowed hard and attempted to take this advice.

  It had been a most exciting and enjoyable evening, in spite of the worry which even the impenitent Francie could not quite banish from her mind. They had driven far and fast, had eaten a surprisingly good dinner at a wayside hotel, and had been busy since, the girls telling the boys a wealth of things about England. They had chattered until their throats were dry. Now with an early moon making the fields silver, they drove slowly along the deserted road, talking in low tones.

  “It’s been a wonderful start to my trip, seeing you like this, Francie,” said Glenn with a sigh. “Gosh, I wish you could com
e on with us to France. I can’t tell you what a difference it makes to Jefferson, not having you there.”

  This was most gratifying. Francie said, “Don’t think it hasn’t made a difference to me too. I could have howled sometimes, I was so homesick for the gang.”

  “Honest? I didn’t know how you might be feeling after all this time. Those boys you talked about in your letter to Ruth—Mark and Peter—didn’t they make you forget all about us?”

  “Oh no, Glenn, never for a minute. They’re cute enough, but I’m not used to English boys, I guess. And anyway I haven’t had much chance to get acquainted. It’s different over here.”

  “Well, I’m mighty glad to find you haven’t changed that way.”

  “What do you mean, that way?” she asked with a flicker of interest. “Have I changed any way at all?”

  “Gosh, yes,” said Glenn readily. “You’re a lot different. You look younger, and you’re keener on things, and not so, well, so spoiled. I guess what I mean is that you’re a lot nicer to me!”

  “That’s because I’m so glad to see somebody from home!”

  “Poor kid,” said Glenn.

  It took a little while for these words and their true significance to soak into Francie’s brain. When they did she suddenly sat up to attention. “Did you say poor kid? Why?” she demanded.

  “Why?” repeated Glenn. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’ve been feeling awfully sorry for you. It’s only natural. We’re all sorry for you, back at Jefferson.”

  “But why should you be sorry for me? This I don’t like.”

  “Well, gee, haven’t you been awfully unhappy? You sounded it. You kept writing letters …” His voice trailed off.

  “I have not been unhappy,” said Francie in clear tones. “I love England, as a matter of fact.”

  Glenn turned to look at her incredulously. “Go on! You couldn’t. Stuck away in that crummy school—”

  “And what’s the matter with Fairfields? It’s a very good school and I’m happy there. Sure, they don’t always look at things my way and I don’t see things in theirs, but it’s a very nice gang of girls, Glenn, and don’t you forget it. Why, they’re worth any number of the kids at home, in lots of ways. I can’t tell you all about it straight off …” Nor could she, she reflected. It would take hours and perhaps more words than she knew to explain Jennifer’s sturdy independence, the honest friendship of Wendy or Marcie, the sincerity of all of them. They had good sense, those girls, and they were kind. At least, all except Jennifer were kind, and she had other qualities. “They’re tough,” said Francie aloud. “Lots tougher than we are. And better sports, as far as I can see. I know that’s a soppy expression but it’s what I mean. I mean, it’s not easy to tell in America what people are like, is it? Things are so easy there. Here, you can see right away … But I didn’t mean to make a speech, Glenn. I only wanted you to understand, I like England.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I’m having a swell time,” said Glenn. “Say—” he lowered his voice, his head leaning toward her as he drove very slowly—“is Penny enjoying herself, do you think?”

  “Oh yes. She’s having a wonderful time. Why?”

  “I just wondered. She’s a nice kid, isn’t she? Anyway Bob thinks so. I guess he’s fallen for her. Is there anybody here she’s keen on? He asked me to find out, back there where we had dinner.”

  “I shouldn’t think so. Penny’s set on her work more than anything, and right now her head’s full of plans for the future. Her stepfather is absolutely the worst—listen and I’ll tell you.”

  In conspiratorial whispers she confided to Glenn the particulars of Penny’s family troubles.

  The car idled along a seaside road. Now and then someone sounded a warning horn and went sweeping past them in the dark, but traffic was not heavy. In the back seat, the other young people were talking animatedly of certain famous stage productions they had witnessed in New York.

  “To think Penny and I should be having a double date here in the heart of England!” murmured Francie dreamily. “Who would have expected this when I woke up this morning?”

  “I hate to be a spoilsport,” said Penny at last, “but we’ve got to go back now, Francie, if we ever expect to get in at all. They lock the doors when it’s time to turn out the lights.” She spoke with determined cheerfulness, though inside she was quaking.

  “Yes, I know.” Francie moved reluctantly from her comfortable position against Glenn’s shoulder. They had been watching the moonlight on the sea for some time.

  “It’s true, Glenn, we’ll have to get going.”

  “Oh, gee,” said Glenn. “Well, it’s been nice while it lasted, and I’m sure glad you were both willing to take the chance.”

  They drove rapidly now along the road toward Fairfields, the setting moon making their shadows grotesquely long on the white road. Francie struck a match to look at her watch. They would make it, she decided, just in good time. They would put on their hats, carry the butter-muslin parcel, and simply stroll through the front door, trusting to luck and good nature to carry them past the first awkward moments. It might be best to get out of the car a fairly good distance from the gates, of course, and not to talk loud to the boys, just in case someone was out in the grounds, snooping.…

  The car sneezed, faltered, recovered, and then with a more noticeable sneeze came to a halt.

  “What have you done to her?” demanded Bob, peering over the back of the seat.

  “Nothing I shouldn’t have,” said Glenn indignantly. “What do you think? Here, let me turn on the light … Empty! Didn’t you fill her up at Kingston the way I told you?”

  “Nope. Don’t you remember, the filling station was closed?”

  Glenn groaned. “Of all the boneheaded stunts,” he said. “To run out of gas on our first day!”

  “Oh, my goodness,” said Francie. “What do we do now?” Penny only gasped. She had known it all along, she told herself. Something like this was bound to happen, by all the laws of retribution.

  “Find a filling station, I guess,” Glenn said. “One of us will have to walk along and trust to luck it won’t be too far away. How far back did we pass one, does anybody remember?”

  “I haven’t seen a station since we left the place where we ate,” said Penny flatly. “It’s not so easy to find them here in the country, you know. Oh dear, what a mess!”

  “One of the boys will have to thumb a ride, that’s all,” said Francie.

  “Yes, but what with? There hasn’t been a car along here for the past half hour,” Bob reminded her. “I think I’ll get out and start walking ahead, and take my chances.”

  Bob got started and the others settled back to wait. There was nothing else to do, they agreed. Penny was too well disciplined to speak of the first thought in her mind: the galloping minutes, and the nemesis that waited for them at Fairfields if they should be late. Even the light-hearted Francie was depressed. It was hard to talk cheerfully as they waited for Bob to come back.

  Time went on and on. At first there was a little hope, then after a while there wasn’t any. The doors at Fairfields would be locked. Francie squinted at her watch; she thought she could see Penny trying to look at hers, though neither of them said anything.

  “Where can Bob have gone to?” asked Glenn in peevish tones. “He’s been away an hour. What does he think he’s doing?”

  Penny said, “He won’t find it too easy, you know. Nowadays there isn’t much pleasure motoring, because there’s such a small ration, and people buy their petrol in tiny amounts—three gallons at a time or even less.”

  Glenn whistled. “Then naturally they don’t keep a lot on hand. Is that it?”

  “That’s it. Some of the stations are simply closed down for good. And the others even if they’re open in the daytime might be locked up after tea. Just now we’re not a very go-ahead nation, Glenn.”

  “Well, but … Then what do you think he’s going to do?”

  “If he ge
ts a lift anywhere,” Francie contributed, “he’ll have to telephone some big garage where they’d be keeping a man on the premises all night, and I expect that’s what he’s doing, waiting for a relief car. They allow hire-cars and that sort of thing, fortunately. He’ll be getting a car like that to bring him back.

  “That’s dandy. But what is going to happen to you kids?”

  “Time,” said Francie, “will tell.”

  It seemed very late when they heard the car coming, and saw a glow around the curve of the road. It was a shock to Francie when she looked at her watch to see that it was only nine-thirty. Nine-thirty! Sometimes in Jefferson they would only just be starting out to a dance at the Country Club by that time. Yet for Fairfields it was really terribly late.

  The thought of Fairfields sent a premonitory chill down her back. She exchanged a long, sober look with Penny, and then the hire-car arrived, and there was Bob bustling out of it with a petrol can.

  After that they hurried in a silence that might almost be called grim. Glenn handed over coupons and money, and told Bob to get into the car, while the hire-car driver poured the gasoline into their tank. “Pretty soft for us, I guess he’s thinking,” said Glenn as the driver went off. “We get practically all the gasoline we want, and yet you who live here—”

  “Well, that’s the way they want it, or they wouldn’t do it,” said Francie. “Come on, Glenn, less philosophy and more action. Let’s get going. Penny and I have got a lot more to go through tonight, don’t forget.”

  “It’s a shame,” said Bob. “Would it help any if we came in with you and tried to explain to this she-dragon?”

  “It would not,” said Penny flatly. “The best thing you can do is get away before the fireworks start.”

  “But it seems so cowardly!”

  “You can stand by if you like,” said Francie. “Give us the name of your hotel, and if we’re still alive tomorrow morning, and if there’s time before you start off on your travels, we’ll let you know how things turn out. Otherwise we’ll write you in Paris. Won’t we, Penny?”