White Boots

by Noel Streatfeild

  To her surprise Lalla found that putting stones round the garden with Alec was fun. She had not thought it could be fun grubbing for stones in damp earth, but it was when there was someone to do it with. So when Alec said that the difficulty was going to be getting the bed looked after, watered and weeded and all that, Lalla found herself offering to help.

  “I think Uncle David could get Aunt Claudia to let you come and give me gardening lessons. We could call it that. Aunt Claudia thinks gardening good for me, it’s being out of doors and exercise both at once. But when you can’t come I won’t mind watering sometimes.”

  Toby looked at her over his spectacles.

  “It would be a very good thing if you took up gardening. It’s always a mistake to count on just one thing. It’ll be all right if you are a skating star,” he put enormous weight on the word “are”, “but if you’re not you might be very glad to get a job in Alec’s market garden.”

  Lalla, safe in the knowledge of how well she had passed her inter-silver test, looked at him with scorn.

  “It’s no good talking like that,Toby, my boy. Here’s someone who is almost a champion. If you don’t believe me you’d better come and see my exhibition, it’s two weeks from Wednesday.”

  Chapter Nine

  SKATING GALA

  UNCLE DAVID HAD partly suggested to Aunt Claudia his and Miss Goldthorpe’s plan for Lalla and Harriet. He knew that with Aunt Claudia it was a good idea to suggest something and then let the suggestion simmer. This idea took a lot of simmering, for Aunt Claudia could not put her mind seriously to anything until Lalla’s exhibition was over. The nearer it got to the skating gala day the more excited she got. She made all her friends take seats, and found herself looking forward to the night more than she had looked forward to anything for ages. Her friends said, “Dear little Lalla, of course we’ll take seats, especially if it’s for charity.” Aunt Claudia let them think that Lalla was just a dear little child giving her first skating exhibition; it would be such a moment when the friends saw what Lalla’s skating was really like. Already in imagination she could hear the buzz of admiring remarks and congratulations which would shower on her. She listened to Uncle David’s idea and brushed it aside. It might be a good plan, she didn’t know, she would see what everybody said; if it was thought helpful for Lalla she might consider it. She would not go further than that.

  Uncle David had wanted a good moment for George and Olivia to meet Aunt Claudia. He knew it would be a failure if Aunt Claudia met them in their own house, because she was the kind of person who expected houses to be large and grand. He thought the skating exhibition would be his opportunity, so he bought three good seats fairly near Aunt Claudia’s and sent them to George, with a letter. In the letter he said he did not imagine this sort of thing was much in George’s line, but he would be glad if he and Olivia would bring Harriet, because it would be an opportunity for the two families to meet.

  Olivia never bothered very much about clothes; she always managed to look nice, so she took dressing for the skating gala quite casually, but not Harriet. The moment she saw the tickets she fussed.

  “Mummy, what shall we wear?”

  Olivia was busy at the time and answered vaguely.

  “Our thick coats I suppose, it’ll be cold, darling.”

  Harriet saw that her mother had not appreciated the importance of the occasion.

  “But, Mummy, it’s fur coats and fur boots. Lalla told me so. She said that Aunt Claudia had said on the telephone to somebody just a smart warm dress under a fur coat, and, of course, fur boots.”

  Olivia laughed.

  “I’ve not got a fur coat, darling, and neither have you, and we’ve no smart, warm dresses, and we’ve not got fur boots, so I’m afraid we’ll have to watch Lalla in our ordinary winter clothes, with a rug over our knees to keep us warm.”

  Harriet confided in Nana.

  “Mr King has sent Daddy the poshest seats, and he wants Mummy and him to meet Aunt Claudia, and that would mean me too. Lalla says people wear fur coats and fur boots to things like that, but Mummy and me haven’t those.”

  Nana was as usual knitting. She made soothing, clucking sounds, but her mind was on the problem. It was very important how people looked when they met Aunt Claudia.

  “Anything your mother wears is sure to look nice, dear, she’s one of the sort who looks dressed no matter what they wear.” She paused and knitted half a row. While she knitted she thought about Harriet. Harriet’s winter coat was in Nana’s opinion only fit for the dustbin; it was navy blue and it fitted her before she was ill. Now it was too loose, much too short in length and, worse still, much too short in the arms. It had too a saggy hang about the pockets, and there were worn patches where the material had a whitish look. If Harriet took the coat off Nana was sure she would be wearing her brown velvet. If possible, in Nana’s view, the velvet was worse than the coat. The coat was just plain and shabby, but the velvet should have been smart. If there was one thing Nana could not abide it was clothes that had once been smart and now were shabby. “There’s a pink coat Lalla has grown out of; it’s nice in the length but she’s a bit square in the shoulders for it. It would fit you nicely, dear.”

  “But wouldn’t Aunt Claudia know it was Lalla’s?”

  “No. You see, Lalla’s got so many things. Besides, even if she’d notice it in the ordinary way, she never would on a night like that. You ask your mother if you can borrow it, and if she says yes I’ll bring it along and an extra warm sweater of Lalla’s to wear with it. It’s a spring coat really, and not thick enough without something warm under, and you want warm knickers, the ice strikes up very cold, you don’t want to catch a chill.”

  The night of the skating gala every seat at the rink was taken. It was an annual event, in aid of local charities, and was always a big occasion. All types of skating celebrities gave exhibitions: professionals, championship soloists and pairs, champion figure skaters and champion dancing pairs. As well there was usually an exhibition by promising local children. Sometimes it was a skating ballet arranged for a lot of children, sometimes it was a pair of children ice dancers, and now and again it was a solo exhibition.

  Lalla, as her father’s daughter, and an unusually promising child, was given a star place on the bill. She was to come last in the first half before the interval. Nothing that could contribute to Aunt Claudia’s approval of the evening had been forgotten. Mr Matthews met her in the entrance and gave her a beautiful bow, and told her how proud she was going to be of Lalla in a loud enough voice for all the people coming in to turn round and look at Aunt Claudia. He himself took her and Uncle David to their seats, which were the best placed at the rink, and stayed a few moments saying polite things. When he had gone Aunt Claudia looked round, and found her friends were trying to attract her attention by waving their programmes. One of the many things that pleased her most about the evening was that Uncle David had not only agreed to come but came willingly. This had been a great surprise. Willingly to a skating gala! He who said about watching skating, “I’m blessed if I’m going to pay to have cold feet!” She thought how good-looking he was, and guessed how envious everyone must be of her; such a handsome husband and a niece the star child of the evening. She did not know that Uncle David being there was part of a scheme and that while Aunt Claudia was waving to her friends he was waving to George and Olivia.

  “Is that your friend David King?” Olivia asked.

  George nodded.

  “Not a friend, really, you know. Surprised he remembered me.”

  Harriet, feeling very grand in Lalla’s nice-fitting pink coat and snug in her pink jersey, pulled at her mother’s arm.

  “The lady beside him is Lalla’s Aunt Claudia.”

  Olivia was going to say that nobody could suppose the grand lady in mink was anybody but Lalla’s Aunt Claudia, when she looked at Harriet. Pink was not her colour, poor pet, it did not go with reddish hair and rather a pale face, Harriet was getting on splendidl
y, but she still had too much eyes for the rest of her. She was so proud in her pink coat, and so in awe of Aunt Claudia, whom presently they had to meet, that Olivia knew it was not the moment to speak jokingly.

  “Isn’t she grand, but no grander than you look, darling. I shall feel as though I ought to curtsey when you two are speaking to each other.”

  The performers in the gala waited for their entrances on the small rink, so that they could warm and limber up before they went on. Nana had a seat reserved for her at the end of the rink next to Miss Goldthorpe, but she was not going to use it until Lalla went on. In the meantime she sat and watched her, holding her white ermine coat on her knee. Nana did not really hold with what she called “making a show” of Lalla. A little private theatricals was nice for a shy child, but Lalla was not shy and did not need bringing forward, so she was being kept up past her bedtime for no purpose, so Nana was a little disapproving. But as she watched Lalla practising the disapproving feeling wore off and she felt a little proud. Lalla was wearing a white ballet dress, with a bodice of white satin, and net and tarlatan skirts which glittered with silver stars. On her head, in place of the bonnets she usually wore, was a small cap of diamanté, which held her curls in place. Nana saw that the grown-up skaters watched Lalla with pleased faces, thinking how sweet she looked, which she did, the pretty lamb. Nana still disapproved of dieting her, but Lalla did not seem any the worse for it, and now that she was dressed in her ballet dress, she thought, with that tight satin bodice, it was a good thing she didn’t stick out in front as she had done a week or two back. Aunt Claudia had succeeded in buying a pair of the most beautiful nylon tights. When Nana had first seen them she had been most sniffy about them.

  “Nylon tights! Lot of foolishness, catch her death. She should be wearing her white wool same as usual.”

  Lalla had giggled.

  “Silly Nana! I couldn’t have worn wool anyway, with a ballet dress, it would have to have been bare legs. Nobody could wear wool tights with a ballet dress.”

  Now that Lalla had the tights on Nana saw that she was lucky to have them. Many of the skaters had bare legs, and very cold Nana thought it looked, giving a nasty bluish tinge to the skin. If a child had to do a foolish thing like stripping to go on the ice in midwinter, then it was better to wear nylon than nothing at all. One thing she had seen to, and it comforted her to know that she had seen to it, Lalla was wearing good wool next to the skin, wool knitted by herself. She did not hold with ice, nasty, damp stuff, but she defied any ice to give a chill to a child who wore wool knitted by herself next to the skin.

  Max Lindblom had arranged a programme for Lalla to fit into a specially orchestrated mixture of music from When the Rainbow Ends. A few bars were played before her entrance, then, as she skimmed on to the ice, she was picked out by a frosted spotlight. The fairy music and Lalla’s fairylike appearance, and the magic quality of the cold, blue light on the ice, was enchanting; her entrance got a spontaneous burst of applause.

  Lalla had not felt nervous before she came on; she enjoyed free skating and was happy performing the routine Max had arranged for her. It included most of the jumps she liked best and, as well, spread-eagling, which she adored. She was enchanted at receiving a round of applause, smiled gaily and settled down to enjoy herself. The programme Max had chosen was not difficult, and no knowledgeable person would be fooled into thinking that it was; equally the knowledgeable preferred seeing children performing a programme well within their range. What was noticeable about Lalla was her gaiety; that she was finding every minute of her exhibition fun bubbled out of her and made the audience think it was fun too. When, at the end, she skimmed down the rink in an arabesque, her arms outstretched and curtseyed to the best seats, which really meant curtseying to Aunt Claudia, the audience not only clapped but they cheered. Lalla had to take six calls, and on the sixth Mr Matthews, very nervously because he was not wearing skates and was afraid of falling down, came on the ice and presented her with an enormous bouquet of pink carnations.

  Olivia turned to Harriet, her eyes very bright and her cheeks very pink with pleasure.

  “Darling! How lovely Lalla is! The pet can skate, can’t she?”

  Harriet glowed; being Lalla’s friend was almost as grand as being Lalla.

  “And she can do much more glorious things than that, terribly difficult things that lots of people who’ve learnt skating for years and years can’t do.”

  George lit a cigarette. He was watching Uncle David with Aunt Claudia. He turned to Olivia.

  “I doubt whether King will be able to make that introduction. Look at the aunt.”They all looked.

  Aunt Claudia was in a dream-come-true world. She had always known that Lalla could skate, always known that she would be a star, but this was the first time she had felt what it was like to own Lalla. Years ago she had found it made her important that she was Cyril Moore’s sister, and she had liked the feeling, and had missed it when he was drowned. But being Cyril Moore’s sister was a mere nothing to being Lalla’s aunt and guardian. Everybody that she knew and lots that she did not, flocked round her saying all the nicest things, and the nicer the things they said the grander Aunt Claudia felt. It was only just as the interval ended that Uncle David managed to introduce the Johnsons. By this time a smile had become part of Aunt Claudia’s face, and a rich graciousness so much part of her voice that it was almost as if she were talking with a piece of cream out of a chocolate bar lying on her tongue.

  “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 p
romise, 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.”