“You’ll have to try and straighten your legs a little, because then I can tow you.”
Harriet’s knees and ankles hadn’t been very good at standing straight on an ordinary floor since she had been ill, but in skates and boots it was terribly difficult. But Lalla had been skating for so long she could not see anything difficult about standing up on skates, and, because she did not find anything difficult about it, Harriet began to believe it could not be as difficult as it looked. Presently, Lalla, skating backwards, had towed her into the centre of the rink.
“There, now I’ll show you how to start. Put your feet apart.” With great difficulty Harriet got her feet into the sort of position that Lalla wanted. “Now lift them up. First your right foot. Put it down on the ice. Now your left foot. Now put it down.”
Nana, having asked Olivia’s permission to do so, had moved into the seat next to her. First of all they discussed Harriet’s illness and her leg muscles. Then Olivia said:
“Mr Matthews pointed out your child to us. I hear she’s been skating since she was a baby; you used to push her here in a perambulator, didn’t you?”
Nana laid her knitting in her lap. She could hear from Olivia’s tone she thought it odd teaching a baby to skate.
“So I did too, and I didn’t like it. I never have held with fancy upbringing for my children, and I never will.”
“But her father was a great skater, wasn’t he?”
“He was Cyril Moore. But maybe your father was a great preacher, ma’am, but that isn’t to say you want to spend all your life preaching.”
Olivia laughed.
“My father has a citrus estate in South Africa, and I’ve certainly never wanted to spend all my life growing oranges and lemons.”
“Nor would her father have wanted skating as a baby for Lalla. Bless him, he was a lovely gentleman and so was her mother a lovely lady.”
“What happened to them?”
“Well, he was the kind of gentleman that must always be doing something dangerous. He only had to see a board up saying ‘Don’t skate, danger’ and he was on the ice in a minute. That’s how he went, and poor Mrs Moore with him. Seems he was on a pond; they say there was a warning out the ice wouldn’t bear, but anyway they both popped through it, and were never seen alive again.”
“Oh, dear, what a sad story, and who is bringing little Lalla up?”
Nana’s voice took on a reserved tone.
“Her Aunt Claudia, her father’s only sister.”
“And she was the one who decided to make a skater of her?”
“It’s a memorial, so she says. Lalla wasn’t two years old the winter her parents popped through that thin ice. I’ll never forget it, Aunt Claudia moved into the house, and the very first thing she did was to have a glass case made for the skates and boots her father was drowned in. She put it up over my blessed lamb’s cot.‘With all respect ma’am,’ I said,‘I don’t think it’s wholesome, we don’t want her growing up to brood on what’s happened.’ And do you know what she said? ‘He’s to live again in Lalla, Nana, he was a wonderful skater, but Lalla is to be the greatest skater in the world.’”
Olivia, enthralled with the story, had forgotten about Harriet. She turned now to look at the two children.
“I don’t know whether she’s going to be the greatest skater in the world, but she certainly seems to be a wonderful teacher. Look at my Harriet.”
Nana was silent a moment watching the two children.
“We’ll call them back in a minute. Harriet shouldn’t be at it too long, not the first time. They say Lalla’s coming on wonderfully, she’s got her bronze medal, you know, and she isn’t quite ten.”
Olivia had no idea what a bronze medal was for but she could hear from Nana’s tone it was something important.
“Isn’t that splendid!”
“It’s a funny life for a child, and not what I expect in my nurseries. She has to do so much time on the ice every day, so she can’t go to school or anything like that; governesses and tutors she has as well, of course, as being coached here every day by Mr Lindblom.”
“It must cost a terrible lot of money.”
“Well, what with what her parents left her, and her Aunt Claudia marrying a rich man, there’s enough.”
“She has got a step-uncle, has she?”
Nana was knitting again; she smiled at the wool in a pleased way.
“Yes, indeed. Her Uncle David. Mr David King he is, and as nice a gentleman as you could wish to find, I couldn’t ask for better.”
Olivia was glad to hear that Lalla had a nice step-uncle because somehow, from the tone of Nana’s voice, she was not certain she would like her Aunt Claudia. However, it was not fair to make up her mind about somebody she had never met, and anyway probably Lalla enjoyed the skating.
“I expect the skating’s fun for her, even if she has to miss school and have governesses and tutors because of it.”
“She enjoys it well enough, bless her, I’m not saying she doesn’t, but it’s not what I would choose in a manner of speaking.” Nana got up. “I’m going to signal the children to come off the ice, for, if you don’t mind my mentioning it, your little Harriet has done more than enough for the time being; she better sit down beside me and have a glucose sweet the same as I give my Lalla.”
The moment she sat down Harriet found her legs were much more cotton-woolish than they had been before. They felt so tired she did not know where to put them, and kept wriggling about. Nana noticed this.
“You’ll get used to it, dearie, everybody’s legs get tired at first.”
Olivia looked anxiously at Harriet.
“Perhaps that had better be all for today, darling.”
Harriet was shocked at the suggestion.
“Mummy! Two whole shillings’ worth of hired boots and skates used up in quarter of an hour! We couldn’t, we simply couldn’t.”
“It can’t be helped if you’re tired, darling. It’s better to waste part of the two shillings than to wear the poor legs out altogether.” Olivia turned to Nana. “I’m sure you agree with me.”
Nana had a cosy way of speaking, as if while she was about nothing could ever go very wrong.
“That’s right, ma’am. More haste less speed, so I’ve always said in my nurseries.” She smiled at Harriet. “You sit down and have another glucose sweet and presently Lalla will take you on the ice for another five minutes. That’ll be enough for the first day.”
Lalla looked pleadingly at Nana.
“Could I, oh, could I stay and talk to Harriet, Nana?”
Nana looked up from her knitting.
“It’ll mean making the time up afterwards. You know Mr Lindblom said you was to work at your eight-foot one.”
Lalla laughed.
“One foot eight, Nana.” She turned to Harriet. “Nana never gets the name of the figures right.”
Nana was quite unmoved by this criticism.
“Nor any reason why I should, never having taken up ice skating nor having had the wish.”
“Harriet would never have taken up ice skating, nor had the wish either,” said Olivia, “if it hadn’t been for her legs. I believe two of my sons came here once, but that’s as near as the Johnsons have ever got to skating.”
Lalla was staring at Olivia with round eyes.
“Two of your sons! Has Harriet got brothers?” Harriet explained about Alec, Toby and Edward. Lalla sighed with envy. “Lucky, lucky you. Three brothers! Imagine, Nana! I’d rather have three brothers than anything else in the world.”
Nana turned her knitting round and started another row.
“No good wishing. If you were to have three brothers, you’d have to do without a lot of things you take for granted now.”
“I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t mind anything. You know, Harriet, it’s simply awful being only one, there’s nobody to play with.”
Olivia felt sorry for Lalla.
“Perhaps, Nana, you would bring her to the house s
ometime to play with Harriet and the boys; it isn’t a big house, and there are a lot of us in it, but we’d love to have her and you, too, of course.”
“Bigness isn’t everything,” said Nana. “Some day, if the time could be made, it would be a great treat.”
Harriet looked with respect at Lalla. Even when she had gone to school she had always had time to do things. She could not imagine a life when you had to make time to go out to tea. Lalla saw Harriet’s expression.
“It’s awful how little time I get. I do lessons in the morning, then there is a special class for dancing or fencing, then, directly after lunch, we come here and, with my lesson and the things I have to practise, I’m always here two hours and sometimes three. By the time I get home and have had tea it’s almost bedtime.”
Olivia thought this a very sad description of someone’s day who was not yet ten.
“There must be time for a game or something before bedtime, isn’t there? Don’t you play games with your aunt?”
Lalla looked surprised at the question.
“Oh no, she doesn’t play my sort of games. She goes out and plays bridge and things like that. When I see her we talk about skating, nothing else.”
“She’s very interested in how Lalla’s getting on,” Nana explained, “but Lalla and I have a nice time before she goes to bed, don’t we, dear? Sometimes we listen to the wireless, and sometimes, when Uncle David and Aunt Claudia are out, we go downstairs and look at that television.”
Olivia tried to think of something to say, but she couldn’t. It seemed to her a miserable description of Lalla’s evenings. Nana was a darling, but how much more fun it would be for Lalla if she could have somebody of her own age to play with. She was saved answering by Lalla.
“Are your legs better enough now to come on the rink, Harriet?”
Harriet stretched out first one leg and then the other to see how cotton-woolish they were. They were still a bit feeble, but she was not going to disgrace herself in front of Lalla by saying so. She tottered up on to her skates. Lalla held out her hands. “I’ll take you to the middle of the rink but this time you’ll have to lift up your feet by yourself, I’m not going to hold you. Don’t mind if you fall down, it doesn’t hurt much.”
Olivia watched Harriet’s unsteady progress to the middle of the rink.
“How lucky for her that she met Lalla. It would have taken her weeks to have got a few inches round the edge by herself. She’s terrified, poor child, but she won’t dare show it in front of Lalla.”
Nana went on knitting busily; her voice showed that she was not quite sure she ought to say what she was saying.
“When I get the chance I’ll have a word with Mrs King about Harriet, or maybe with Mr King, he’s the one for seeing things reasonably. It would be a wonderful thing for Lalla if you would allow Harriet to come back to tea sometimes after the skating. It would be such a treat for her to have someone to play with.”
“Harriet would love it, but I am afraid it is out of the question for some time yet. I’m afraid coming here and walking home will be about all she can manage. The extra walk to and from your house would be too much for her at present.”
“There wouldn’t be any walking. We’d send her home in the car. Mrs King drives her own nearly always, and Mr King his own, so the chauffeur’s got nothing to do except drive Lalla about in the little car.”
Olivia laughed.
“How very grand! I’m afraid I’ll never be able to ask you to our house. Three cars and a chauffeur! I’m certain Mrs King would have a fit if she saw how we lived.”
“Lot of foolishness. Harriet’s a nice little girl, and just the friend for Lalla. You leave it to me. Mrs King has her days, and I’ll pick a good one before I speak of Harriet to her or Mr King.”
Walking home Olivia asked Harriet how she had enjoyed skating. She noticed with happiness that Harriet was looking less like a daddy-long-legs than she had since her illness started.
“It was gorgeous, Mummy, but of course it was made gorgeous by Lalla. I do like her. I hope her Aunt Claudia will let me go to tea. Lalla’s afraid she won’t, and she’s certain she won’t let her come to tea with us.”
“You never know. Nana says she has her days, and she’s going to try telling her about you on one of her good days.”
Harriet said nothing for a moment. She was thinking about Lalla, Nana, and Aunt Claudia, and mixed up with thinking of them was thinking about telling her father, Alec, Toby and Edward about them. Suddenly she stood still.
“Mummy, mustn’t it be simply awful to be Lalla? Imagine going home every day with no one to talk to, except Nana, who knows what’s happened because she was there all the time. Wouldn’t you think to be only one like Lalla was the most awful thing that could happen to anybody?”
Olivia thought of the three cars and the chauffeur, and Lalla’s lovely clothes, and of the funny food they had to eat at home, and the shop that never paid. Then she thought of George and the boys, and the fun of hearing about Alec’s first day on the paper round, and how everybody would want to know about Harriet’s afternoon at the rink. Perhaps it was nicer to laugh till you were almost sick over the queer shop-leavings you had to eat, than to have the grandest dinner in the world served in lonely state to two people in a nursery. She squeezed Harriet’s hand.
“Awful. Poor Lalla, we must make a vow, Harriet. Aunt Claudia or no Aunt Claudia let’s make friends with Lalla.”
Chapter Four
LALLA’S HOUSE
LALLA’S HOUSE WAS the exact opposite of Harriet’s house. It was not far away, but in a much grander neighbourhood. It was a charming, low, white house lying back in a big garden, with sloping lawns leading down to the river. Where the lawn and the river joined there was a little landing stage, to which, in the summer, Lalla’s Uncle David kept his motor launch tied. Lalla’s rooms were at the top of the house. A big, low room looking over the river, which had been her nursery, was now her schoolroom, and another big room next to it, which had been her night nursery, was now her bedroom. As well there was a room for Nana and a bathroom. Her bedroom was the sort of bedroom that most girls of her age would like to have. The carpet was blue and the bedspread and curtains white with wreaths of pink roses tied with blue ribbons on them, and there was a frill of the same material round her dressing-table. The only ugly thing in the room was the glass case over her bed in which the skates and boots in which her father was drowned were kept. The nicest skating boots in the world are not ornamental, and these, although they had been polished, looked as though someone had been drowned in them, for the black leather had got a brownish-green look. Underneath the case was a plaque which Aunt Claudia had put up. It had the name of Lalla’s father on it, the date on which he was born, and the date on which he was drowned, and underneath that he was the world’s champion figure skater. Above the case Aunt Claudia had put some words from the Bible: “Go, and do thou likewise.” This made people smile for it sounded rather as if Aunt Claudia meant Lalla to be drowned. Lalla did not care whether anybody smiled at the glass case or not, for she thought it idiotic keeping old skates and boots in the glass case, and knew from what Nana had told her that her father and mother would have thought it idiotic; in fact she was sure everybody thought it idiotic except Aunt Claudia.
The schoolroom, which Lalla sometimes forgot to call the schoolroom and called the nursery, was another very pretty room. It had a blue carpet and blue walls, lemon-yellow curtains and lemon-yellow seats to the chairs, and cushions to the window seats. It still had proper nursery things like Lalla’s rocking-horse and dolls’ house, and a toy cupboard simply bulging with toys, but as well it had low bookcases, full of books, pretty china ornaments, good pictures and a wireless set. The only things which did not go with the room were on a shelf which ran all down one wall; this was full of the silver trophies that her father had won. It is a very nice thing to win silver trophies, but a great many of them all together do not look pretty; the only time Lalla lik
ed the trophies was at Christmas, because then she filled them with holly, and they looked gay. Although every trophy and medal had her father’s name on it, where he had won it, what for, and the date on which it had been won, Aunt Claudia was afraid Lalla might forget to read the inscriptions, which was sensible of her because Lalla certainly would not have read them, so underneath the whole length of the shelf was a quotation from Sir Walter Scott altered by Aunt Claudia to fit a girl by changing “his” and “him” into “her”. “Her square-turn’d joints and strength of limb, Show’d her no carpet knight so trim, But in close fight a champion grim.” When Aunt Claudia came to the nursery she would sometimes read the lines out loud in a very grand acting way. She hoped hearing them said like that would inspire Lalla to further effort, but all it did was to make Lalla decide that she would never read any book by Sir Walter Scott. Sometimes Lalla and Nana had a little joke about the verse; Lalla would jump out of her bed or her bath and fling herself on Nana saying “Her square-turn’d joints and strength of limb” and then she would butt Nana with her head and say “That butt never came from a carpet knight, did it?”
On the day that Lalla met Harriet she and Nana had an exceptionally gay tea. Nana had let Lalla do what she loved doing, which was kneeling by the fire making her own toast, instead of having it sent up hot and buttered from the kitchen, which meant the top slice had hardly any butter on it because it had run through to the bottom one. They talked about Harriet and the rink, Lalla in an excited way and Nana rather cautiously. Lalla laughed at Nana and said she was being “mimsy-pimsy” and asked if it was because she didn’t like the Johnsons. Nana shook her head.
“I liked them very much, dear; Mrs Johnson’s a real lady, as anyone can see, and little Harriet, for all she’s so shabby, has been brought up as a little lady should. But I don’t want you to go fixing your heart on having her here. You know what it is, your Aunt Claudia has got strict ideas of who you should know, and I don’t think, if she was to see Harriet, she would think she was your sort, not having the money to live as you do.” Nana could see this was going to make Lalla angry, so she added:“Now don’t answer back, dear, you know I’m speaking sense. I don’t think it matters about what money a person has, no more than you do, but your aunt’s your guardian, and she sets great store by money, and you know you’ve been brought up never to want for anything, so you must be a good girl and not mind too much if you’re not allowed to have Harriet here.”