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Authors: Noel Streatfeild

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BOOK: White Boots
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“This is my friend George Johnson, Harriet's father,” Uncle David explained, “and this is Mrs Johnson, Harriet's mother. How do you do, Harriet? You and I haven't met before, but I've heard a lot about you.”

Aunt Claudia was too carried away by the glory of the evening to see anybody as clearly as usual, but not so carried away but that some part of her mind said to her that Olivia, though obviously poor, was charming in every way, that David's school friend George seemed presentable, and that Harriet looked better dressed than when she had last seen her, though the colour chosen for her was unfortunate, and that it was curious that somebody who obviously knew how to wear clothes, even if she had not got any nice ones, should dress her daughter in that shade of pink, which was obviously wrong for her colouring. Because she was feeling pleased with everyone and everything, Aunt Claudia was in the mood to say nice things, and as she looked at the Johnsons the suggestion made by Uncle David at Christmas came back to her. She smiled kindly at Harriet.

“I hear this child has not been going to school since her illness. It might be possible for her to have lessons with Lalla. Of course nothing can be arranged in a hurry, naturally everything planned for Lalla has to have great thought, but perhaps I might give you a ring sometime, and you would come to tea to discuss it.”

The idea of Harriet doing lessons with Lalla was so new to the Johnsons that they stared at Aunt Claudia in silence. Then Olivia rose as usual to the occasion.

“What a lovely idea, but of course it would want thinking over.”

As soon as she was back in her seat Harriet put her hand into her mother's.

“Mummy! Do you think she meant it? Lessons with Lalla and Goldie every day? Wouldn't that be simply gorgeous!”

Lalla's success at the skating gala made Lalla less nice to have as a friend than she had been. Lalla had what is called a vivid personality, which was the part of her that made her remembered and stand out from other skaters. Because she had this the skating correspondents of the newspapers had noticed her, and wrote about her in their papers, and photographers took photographs of her. If Nana and Miss Goldthorpe could have had their way Lalla would never have read about herself in the papers, or looked at the photographs, but Aunt Claudia thought reading about herself and looking at pictures of herself would stimulate Lalla to further efforts. Many days she had her down to the drawing room after tea and read her press notices out loud to her.

“Little Lalla Moore, Cyril Moore's daughter, is a skater of remarkable promise, of whom we should hear more.” “Little Lalla Moore, the daughter of figure skater Cyril Moore, for whom a great future is predicted, won all hearts,” and in the
Sunday papers, under pictures, “A young skating star.” “A winsome child skater.” “A pretty little queen of the ice.”

The more press cuttings Aunt Claudia read or showed to Lalla the more prancey, and difficult to deal with, Nana and Miss Goldthorpe found her. It was difficult to get her back from what Nana called “Being above herself”. Aunt Claudia wanted her to be above herself. Wilson, the cook, and Helen, the housemaid, did not mind her being above herself. They cut out photographs of her, and stuck them up in their bedrooms, in their sitting room, and on the kitchen mantelpiece, and liked it when she came in and told them all about the gala.

Harriet tried not to side with Nana and Miss Goldthorpe against Lalla, but she did wish she would stop being grand. Lalla was always inclined to tell Harriet to do things for her, but after the gala she treated her rather as though she existed for no other purpose than to wait on her.

“Don't you give in to her, dear,” said Nana. “The way she goes on you'd think you were no more than a heathen slave that she'd bought. You want to say no to her sharp and plain, same as I do.”

Miss Goldthorpe said:

“I do hope Mrs King will soon come to a decision about your doing lessons with Lalla, Harriet dear. It's going to be good for Lalla to have someone to work with, and you must not give in to her, she needs a friend who doesn't give in.”

Nana's and Miss Goldthorpe's great supporter in putting Lalla back to being an ordinary girl who skated rather nicely
was Max Lindblom. He spoke to Nana most seriously about her.

“It is not good that Lalla is shown these press cuttings. She thinks now she is so clever she need not work, but I tell you that she must work harder than ever before if she is to pass the test for her silver medal in May. I cannot make her concentrate on her brackets.”

To Nana a bracket was something hung on a wall, on which ornaments stood, but she was accustomed to Lalla and Max using words which meant nothing to her.

“I'll speak to her about it, Mr Lindblom. She's been a bit of a madam lately, but it should be passing off soon. Children are apt to get above themselves occasionally, but I'll tell her plainly that you're not pleased, and she's to think of those brackets, or we'll have to be bracketing her.”

Lalla was not the only member of the household to get above herself after the skating gala; Aunt Claudia was above herself too. Often she thought about that night, about the way the manager at the rink had received her, the applause, and the admiration and envy of her friends, of sitting watching the rest of the entertainment with Lalla's bouquet on her knee, and people whispering about her; pointing her out and saying who she was, of leaving the rink, and the strangers who came up and said nice things. It was a new sort of world to her, and she wanted the same excitement to happen again very soon. She went to Mr Matthews. Mr Matthews had been having a bit of trouble with
his duodenal ulcer, but when he heard that Aunt Claudia wanted to see him, he swallowed two dyspepsia tablets with a little milk, and went out to meet her, trying to look like a man who did not know what a troubled inside was. He brought Aunt Claudia into his office and sat her in his best armchair, and told her how pleased he was to see her, and how proud he was of the success Lalla had made at his gala. Aunt Claudia leant forward.

“It's about that I've come to see you. I think an experience like that is good for Lalla. You won't believe it, but there have been times when I've felt, not exactly a lack of enthusiasm, but a lack of ambition. Now I see why. The child needed a taste of success and applause.”

Mr Matthews looked at Aunt Claudia politely, but inside he was surprised. He was used to skating mothers, pushing forward their own little darlings, and if another child was given a chance that their child did not have, making a fuss, but he had not placed Lalla's aunt as the type. He had looked upon her as a strict guardian, who saw in Lalla a child who might follow in her father's footsteps and become a fine skater, and who was prepared to spend a great deal of money to achieve this. An Aunt Claudia who wanted Lalla made a show of, giving public performances, was a new idea to him, but he was a businessman and quickly saw two things. One, that it would bring credit on his rink if Lalla were allowed occasionally to appear for charity, and the other that Max Lindblom must not be told what was planned. Mr Matthews picked up any gossip that was round his
rink as if he were a vacuum cleaner picking up dust; that Max thought Lalla's skating success had gone to her head was gossip that had blown in from every quarter. He drew a diary towards him.

“There will not be many important events before the season ends, but there are two, at which I should be glad if you would allow Lalla to perform. One is in London, and one away. Of course you will have no trouble with the arrangements, the hotel bookings for the away date will be made by the management of the rink concerned.”

Aunt Claudia had a vision of herself, Lalla, and Nana walking into a large and expensive hotel, herself being pointed out as Mrs King with her niece, the little skating star. She saw herself returning in the evening, carrying Lalla's flowers, and allowing her fellow guests to crowd round her and congratulate her. She told Mr Matthews that she thought they could manage the two dates, and she would see about Lalla's frocks right away.

“I must plan quite a skating wardrobe for her before the winter season starts.”

Mr Matthews put his fingertips together and asked cautiously if Mrs King had discussed these additional public appearances with Max Lindblom.

Aunt Claudia felt Mr Matthews was not asking from idle curiosity, so she said “no”, and asked why.

Mr Matthews pressed his fingers more tightly together than ever, and hoped he was being tactful.

“Skating instructors are apt to think that only work on the figures for the tests is advisable before a test. With her silver test in May I think you may find Max Lindblom difficult to deal with.”

Aunt Claudia, having decided that public appearances were good for Lalla and knowing they were good for herself, was not prepared to let Max Lindblom spoil things. She gave the sort of laugh that means “who cares?”.

“Then I shan't tell him; I think I know what's good for Lalla, and I'm sure you do.”

After Aunt Claudia had gone Mr Matthews telephoned to the managers of the two rinks which were having charity performances about Lalla. After that he sat down meaning to get on with some other work, but the thought of his talk with Aunt Claudia kept interrupting him, and quite suddenly he said something out loud which surprised him very much, because it was “poor little kid”.

When Max Lindblom heard that Lalla was going down to the south coast to skate at a charity gala he was very angry indeed. It happened to be a day when Miss Goldthorpe was at the rink, so she heard all that Max thought about it. Except when she was talking to Harriet, Miss Goldthorpe filled up her time at the rink with her favourite occupation, reciting Shakespeare in her head. She was a great lover of Shakespeare's plays, and could recite them for hours on end and never repeat herself once. That particular day she was with Henry V. She was saying to herself
“O For a Muse of fire” and imagining the rink had turned into “this wooden O” and that she was breathing the casque-filled air that did affright at Agincourt, when Max sat down beside her and spoke rapidly in her ear. Miss Goldthorpe took her time to come back from Agincourt and missed the first part of what he was saying. When she could give him her attention she found that about Lalla he and she had ideas in common.

“That one exhibition, yes. I had thought it was good for Lalla, I myself suggested it. But it was not good. Now she is the great star, she knows everything.‘Do not bother me, Max, I'll do those silly old brackets in plenty of time for my test.' But I tell you,” and here Max thumped his chest, “that she will not do them unless she works and works. There is not time for her to go away skating, and if she does she'll be even more difficult to train. Applause goes to her head like the glass of wine. This must not be.”

Miss Goldthorpe looked at Max, and thought what a pity it was that such fire and earnestness should be wasted on so poor a cause as skating.

“I'm sure you are right, Mr Lindblom, but you are wasting your energy being angry with me. I have nothing whatsoever to do with Lalla's skating. I educate her.”

Max became even more frenzied.

“Then you know how I feel. You must go to this aunt, and you must say Lalla may not perform in skating galas because it interrupts her education.”

Miss Goldthorpe looked again at Max. What a pity that such agile legs should not be allied to an equally agile brain. Clearly this young man's brain was not only not agile but scarcely a brain at all, else why, having met Aunt Claudia, should he suppose that she, or anybody else, could tell her what Lalla might or might not do? Such volubility wasted on such mistaken thinking made Miss Goldthorpe sad. She patted Max's knee.

“Keep calm. Now think. You know Mrs King will not be told what is best for Lalla, she is the only one who knows. If you or I or anybody else tried to argue with her all that would happen would be that we should cease to teach Lalla. I have on many occasions given notice to schools at which I have taught, but so far no one has given notice to me, and I don't intend that they should. Partly because I should dislike the sensation, and partly because I'm fond of Lalla.”

Max put his head in his hands.

“Then all is finished.”

Miss Goldthorpe felt sorry for him, for he seemed to her pathetic and no older than Lalla. She spoke briskly as she would to a child who was upset.

“Nonsense. Now take your head out of your hands and listen to me. You can't prevent Mrs King allowing Lalla to skate at charity performances however regrettable it may be, but you can do something to help Lalla. Her old nurse says that Lalla has got above herself, and that describes it exactly. Now the remedy I
suggest is the company of another child. Mrs King is already half-wedded to the idea of Harriet spending the day with Lalla and doing lessons with her. If you, quite on your own, would suggest that Harriet would be a help to Lalla's career I think the affair could be settled. There's nothing so good for a spoilt child as the company of another child of her own age.”

Max raised his head and looked at the rink. It was the few minutes that Lalla gave to Harriet before her practice and lesson with Max. Lalla was watching Harriet struggling with what Max's eye recognised as forward outside threes, and Miss Goldthorpe supposed was the sort of playing about which would end by Harriet falling on the ice. As Max watched the two children he began to look less distraught, then after a bit, the sort of cheerful that people look when they are thinking about something they like to think about.

BOOK: White Boots
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