Cindy Jones (8 page)

 

Cindy looked at the three dresses spread out on her bed.

There was a mauve pink in crumpled cotton with a wider and even more crumpled ruffle around the skirt and drooping shoulders; a bright blue nylon, patterned with bright pink butterflies; and a silky cotton in soft patterned gray. This was really the most passable of the three dresses, except it was spoiled by an ugly gathered neckline.

Cindy's resentment grew. She was going to have to wear one of the dresses if she wanted to go to the dinner-dance. Her father, already dressed and waiting for her, had steadily refused to do anything about a new dress for her.

“Mrs. Barry said you wouldn't go shopping with them, so you can wear one of the dresses Prunella kindly loaned you,” he had said.

Cindy sighed and pulled the pink and blue nylon dress over her head. Apart from the bows around the neck and the over-full gathered sleeves, it fit better than the others. She glared down at her brightly polished black lace-up shoes and went out to be inspected.

“I look like something to scare the birds with,” she grumbled.

“Nonsense,” her father said. “You look very nice in a dress. Are you ready?”

“I'll leave some food out in case the cats return. Horace must be at Miss Hopkins's place, but Pearl is missing as well.”

“There's no need to worry about them, Cindy. I dropped them into the kennel yesterday.” The professor checked his bow tie was straight.

“Dropped them into the kennel?”

“I can't have them upsetting Guinevere.”

“Mrs. Barry will have to get used to them anyway. Why put them into a cattery?”

The professor brushed at a dusty patch on his sleeve. The silence lengthened. A dreadful thought struck Cindy.

“You've had our beautiful cats destroyed?”

“Don't be silly, Cindy. The kennel assured me they would find them a good home.”

“They've already got a good home,” Cindy retorted. “Like I had before you decided to get married! What a pity you can't find a good home for me instead of having to pay out for boarding school.”

“It's all for the best, Cindy.”

“Whose best? How dare you muck up our lives by being so stupid?” The professor went red. “You ought to have more sense at your age,” Cindy kept on recklessly. “Marrying that two-faced man-eater. She doesn't care about you! She doesn't care about anyone except herself.”

The professor looked at his watch and jangled his car keys. “It's time to leave.”

“If you think so much of her, go without me,” Cindy yelled.

“Cindy!”

“Make your choice! It's her or me.”

The professor turned and left without answering. The front door slammed. Cindy heard the car start up and drive off with shocked disbelief. Her father had gone without her!

“Oh,” she wailed, and ran into her bedroom, buried her face into her pillow, and sobbed as loudly and noisily as Prunella.

After awhile, she wiped her eyes. She wasn't a crybaby like Prunella, and what good did it do to howl anyway? Her father was getting married tomorrow, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She stared at the patch of sky visible through her window. It was a clear night, and one-by-one the stars were brightening and deepening across the sky. The ache in her throat eased.

“Star light, star bright, grant this wish I wish tonight,” she chanted, as if it was a spell to remove her heartache.

She thought about all the things that she could do to Mrs. Barry if wishes really got granted. She could have her nailed up in a barrel and rolled down an endless hill — Mt Everest for choice. Or tied to an old fashioned ducking stool and ducked in a muddy pond until she drowned.

A knock on the front door interrupted this pleasant thought. It sounded again. Hooper gave a bored bark. Cindy pattered down the stairs to open the front door. Miss Hopkins, wearing a long sleeved gray blouse and a long black skirt that rustled as she moved, waited on the doorstep. She held a bad-tempered, bedraggled looking Horace.

“You've got him back for me,” Cindy said as she took the cat.

“Nonsense!” Miss Hopkins said. “He turned up at my place a little while ago. Aren't you feeding or grooming him lately, Cindy?”

“He must have escaped from the cattery,” Cindy said, hugging the comforting warmth of Horace tight against her.

Hooper barked again, a reproving sort of bark. A blue shadow streaked through the open door between them. It was Pearl, as bedraggled as Horace.

“She must have escaped, too,” Cindy said.

Pearl led the way in the kitchen and waited by the refrigerator. Cindy switched on the light, put down Horace, and filled the bowls with cat food. Both cats started eating.

“What are you doing home, Cindy?” Miss Hopkins had followed Cindy into the house.

“The professor went without me.” Cindy didn't feel up to explaining the choice she had given her father.

Hooper barked again. There was another knock on the door. Cindy opened it. There stood Jennifer, smiling, in a dress that shimmered blue and showed a lot of her golden-brown shoulders. A tall man with sun-streaked curly hair and a beard stood beside her. Jenny vaguely recognized him as a teacher who had left the school the previous year.

“This is my fiancé, Mike Williams,” Jennifer explained.

“Your fiancé?” Cindy was shocked.

Jennifer had had a fiancé in the background all the time! All the roses Cindy had sent were completely wasted.

“My new fiancé,” Jennifer said. “We saw the professor come in with the Barrys. Prunella said you were sick, so we came back to see how you were. You don't look sick enough to miss tonight.”

“Do you want to go to the dinner-dance?” Miss Hopkins asked.

The lump in Cindy's throat got bigger. She swallowed. Of course she wanted to go. Everyone was going to be there and all wearing new clothes.

“Wearing this?” she asked bitterly.

Three pairs of eyes examined the ordinary-looking pink-and-blue nylon dress with the black lace-up school shoes beneath.

“I have something that will be just right for Cindy,” Miss Hopkins said. “Mike can drive me home to get it.”

“Bring my make-up case in from the car, Mike,” Jennifer called, not sounding at all surprised at Miss Hopkins ordering her fiancé around. “I'll wash Cindy's hair and curl it.”

She grabbed the square case and bundled Cindy up to the bathroom. Five minutes later Cindy was staring at her ruthlessly washed hair being trimmed level.

“Thank goodness I've got my curling wand and hair drier in the case,” Jennifer said happily. “Your hair has got enough natural bounce in it to curl up nicely with a bit of help. We'll do your nails, and I'll make up your face.”

“I don't want to look like Constance or Frazzle.”

“You won't even look as if you're wearing make-up,” Jennifer promised.

“What's my father going to say when I turn up?” Cindy fretted.

“Maybe he won't recognize you when I've finished,” Jennifer said with a chuckle. “Now be quiet while I get to work.”

About half an hour later Hooper barked. Miss Hopkins and Mike were back again.

“Am I allowed to come up?” Mike asked.

“No,” Jennifer called down the stairs. “Did Miss Hopkins find what she wanted?”

“Indeed she did.” Miss Hopkins rustled into Cindy's bedroom carrying a large cardboard box. She opened the lid. Inside were parcels wrapped in white tissue paper. Miss Hopkins started unwrapping.

“These should fit,” she said gruffly, as she handed over silver strap sandals.

“Perfect,” Cindy gasped.

The sandals were low heeled enough to be comfortable. In them, her feet with pink-tipped toes peeping through, looked narrow and dainty.

“Out of that awful dress, Cindy,” Miss Hopkins ordered. She was lifting something silver and shimmering from the tissue paper. “This belonged to my mother in the days when she was a young girl. I kept re-sewing on the beads with fresh cotton all these years.” Her voice went very gruff. “Hoping it would get used again.”

Cindy slipped the dress carefully over her head. It was sleeveless and swung and shimmered in a cascade of crystal fringing as she moved. Jennifer unwrapped a small, silver, beaded bag and handed it to Cindy. Another box revealed a silver necklace.

“Just right for a dashing headband.” Jennifer fastened it around Cindy's hair.

Cindy looked at the reflection in the mirror. She looked like a tall, slender, silver princess. And Jennifer was right, the makeup didn't show. Her face just looked more vivid and alive, and her hair bounced and curled around her face, catching the light. She picked up the silver handbag.

“I look beautiful, don't I?” she exclaimed. “Wish I could dance, too.”

“What do you think you've been doing all these weeks at my classes?” Jennifer chuckled.

“Really!” Confidence and elation filled Cindy. She didn't feel a bit like ordinary Cindy Jones. She threw her arms around Miss Hopkins and hugged her. “Thanks, Miss Hopkins. You've been exactly like a fairy godmother.”

The twinkle in Miss Hopkins's eyes deepened. “Only your ordinary godmother, Cindy. Your mother was a very dear friend of mine.”

“No one told me,” Cindy gasped.

“One last thing, Cindy,” Miss Hopkins warned. “You enjoy yourself tonight, but stay away from your father's table and avoid Mrs. Barry. Remember, whatever you do, get home before him.”

“I promise.” The professor couldn't possibly recognize the vision in the bedroom mirror as his daughter, but Cindy intended to make sure she reached home ahead of him anyway.

“You sit with us,” Jennifer explained. “We're going to have a lot of fun at our table with Thumb and Carrots and their parents, Mrs. Plumstead, Jim, Gretta and her partner, and Mike and me.”

“Will we ever,” Cindy agreed as she walked down the stairs with Jennifer and Miss Hopkins.

Mike bowed very low when he saw her. “Come on, Princess. In an outfit like that you deserve to ride in the front seat of my carriage.”

Miss Hopkins and Jennifer squashed into the small back seat of the sports car. Cindy sat next to Mike. He started the car. The soft night breeze fanned Cindy's cheek as they moved off, blowing her hair out.

“Ooh,” Cindy sighed. “I know I'm going to enjoy every minute of tonight.”

 

The school hall was crowded and noisy. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. A dazzle of colored lights turned slowly above the dance area. The band thumped out music, and dancers twirled and bumped on the polished floor.

The smell of food perfumed the air, and there was the clink of dishes from the smorgasbord buffet. Miss Hopkins rustled off to the official table, and Cindy followed Jennifer and Mike.

“We're down at the unimportant corner,” Jennifer explained.

Their table was jammed against the wall at the shadowy end of the hall. Cindy saw Thumb and Carrots and their parents, Jim and Mrs. Plumstead, Gretta, and old George McLaren, her partner in the surgery. Everyone called pleased greetings and said how nice she looked.

“Let's dance!” Thumb suggested.

Cindy was only nervous for the first five seconds on the floor, and then she realized that dancing was easy. She danced in turn with Rork, Jeremy, Mike, Thumb's father, and Jim.

The other boys protested against Jim and Thumb monopolizing her, so she danced with them all. She ate a plate of cold chicken and salad, had two bowls of ice cream, which she washed down with lemonade, and kept on dancing.

Cindy saw Constance on the dance floor, wearing a clinging black dress and a discontented expression, and Prunella, every ruffle of her dress bouncing as she danced. They stared at her, nudged each other and whispered, but there was no recognition on their faces.

The professor danced with Gretta. He smiled absently at her.

“They make a nice couple, don't they?” Jim said.

Cindy looked at them again. They were dancing in an old-fashioned way, very close together. Gretta wore a gold-colored silk dress that flared out from her hips. She danced with her eyes closed. The professor had a relaxed look on his face as he steered her around the floor.

“Yes,” Cindy agreed thoughtfully. She had never thought of Gretta and her father as a couple, but of course they were ideally suited.

Mrs. Barry glided past, undulating in her form-fitting scarlet and silver striped dress. She was dancing with old George McLaren, who worked her arm up and down like a pump handle. She gave Cindy a critical stare before looking away in disinterest.

Something very odd was happening. Every single friend recognized Cindy, but apart from the people on her table, not one adult, or Prunella, Constance, or Frazzle, seemed to see her.

After the tables had been cleared, the band packed up and the speeches started. They were made by the headmaster, the president of the school association, and the chairman of the committee.

The headmaster then stood with Miss Hopkins beside him, and started reading out names. Jim walked up in a storm of applause and the headmaster shook his hand. Jim had been announced Dux of the school — topping everyone in both science and English.

Cindy's name was called. Everyone clapped. The professor accepted the prize on her behalf and apologized for her absence due to illness. There were more speeches, more prizes, and more applause, polite rather than enthusiastic.

“Time you weren't here, Cindy,” Miss Hopkins warned as she rustled past.

“We'll drive her home,” Mike offered.

“It's not far to walk,” Jim said. “Thumb and I will see her home.”

“And us,” Jeremy and Rork insisted.

Cindy waved a cheerful goodbye and walked home with her escorts. It was midnight when they reached her house. Hooper gave a welcoming bark, and the two cats streaked out from the shadows to greet them.

“The house looks really nice,” Jim said. “The workmen must have been really going to finish on time.”

Cindy's happiness seeped out of her. In the excitement of the evening, she had almost forgotten about the wedding. Mrs. Barry and her father were marrying in the big lounge room in the morning. The invitations had gone out and been accepted. There was going to be a buffet meal and champagne afterwards.

“Hey, Cindy?” Jeremy asked. “Is that the professor's car turning into the drive?”

“Cut through the side fence so he won't see you,” Cindy muttered and fled into the house, the cats at her heels.

She ran up the stairs to her bedroom, wriggled out of the dress, dropped it, the bag, and headband into the box, and pushed it beneath the bed. She slid under her bedclothes, still wearing the sandals, just as her father came up the stairs. There was a soft knock.

“You awake, Cindy?”

“Yes, Dad,” Cindy called. She remembered she was still wearing makeup and nail polish. “Don't turn the light on. It's too bright.”

The professor came in and sat on the side of her bed. He was a deeper shadow against the faint light from the window.

“I want to apologize for my behavior tonight, Cindy,” he said. “It was unforgivable of me to leave you home like that.”

“That's okay, Dad.”

“I kept worrying about you all night. There was a pretty girl there who reminded me of you, and I felt so guilty.”

“It doesn't matter, Dad.” Cindy decided she also felt a bit guilty herself.

“I was so embarrassed when your name was called. You topped your class, you know.”

“That's nice,” Cindy said cheerfully, almost as if it was news to her.

“I'm sorry I put the cats into the cattery without consulting you,” the professor continued. “It was highhanded of me. Perhaps when we get them back, we can keep them outside?”

Something rustled under the bed, as if the tissue paper was being trodden on. Cindy hoped the cats would stay hidden.

Her father seemed to be thinking aloud rather than talking to Cindy. “You are doing too well to change schools. I seem to have been too hasty in making decisions lately.”

Cindy almost held her breath. Had the professor realized he had made a mistake in deciding to get married?

“I don't think it was hasty of you to decide to get married,” Cindy prompted. “I've been a terrible cook and housekeeper anyway.”

“No. Cindy,” her father said in a slow, unhappy voice. “I have been selfish in expecting so much from you.” He stood up. “Try not to judge your father too harshly.”

Cindy felt her face get hot. She had been judging her father. He had been lonely since her mother had died all those years ago. It was quite a natural thing for him to have fallen into the clutches of Mrs. Barry.

“I'm sorry I have been so piggy about Mrs. Barry.” A wave of affection caused Cindy to grab at her father's hand. “I promise I will try to be as nice as anything to her from now on.”

“Thank you, Cindy.” He patted her hand. He sounded depressed rather than pleased. He went out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Cindy unbuckled her sandals and threw them under the bed. Both cats leaped into their accustomed places. Cindy lay awake for a while. She seemed to have a lot to think about.

She had discovered she had a godmother — dry old Miss Hopkins of all people, who definitely wasn't what she seemed. She had discovered she could dance and liked it. Also she had discovered that she didn't resent the professor's decision to remarry anymore, even if he was going to marry a meanie like Mrs. Barry.

Perhaps the professor had changed his mind. He sounded sad and depressed. Then again, if he had changed his mind, why hadn't he said so?

Cindy yawned. Her eyelids were getting heavy. Could her father change his mind at the actual ceremony? It was a nice thought to drift off to sleep with.